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Heart (härt) - Noun: Personality, Disposition.
You could never stand the weretiger- pathetic and yet standing where you wished and should. Something about him just rubbed you the wrong way. Something about him irked you- not just that he occupied a position undeserved, a position he did not understand. But something more.
The way he ran himself ragged for people who would never acknowledge him. Bleeding out for permission he needn't ask for from people who wouldn't give it. Willing to die on the off-chance that someone would tell him that his life had value.
He was kind because he was selfish. Selfless because he had something to gain. Gentle because he was designed to hurt- made to kill. Those contradictions irritated you.
It disappointed you, his personality.
It made you sick, honestly.
And yet that disposition seemed familiar, but you did not address it. It was pointless to think about. After all-
Knowing the weretiger's heart was not something needed in order to rip it out of him.
Heart (härt) - Noun: The emotional or moral nature as distinguished from the intellectual nature
You could never understand Mafia's dog- the way he killed so easily as if he would die without it (you think he might). The way violence was his only calling- a calling that he never seemed to miss. Every time you met, the smell of death followed him and it never made sense to you- how someone could feel so little, even if they were cruel.
You weren't even partially sure that the bloodied man even HAD emotions TO feel. You fought to live, but that did not mean you took life lightly- not in the slightest. Life held value to you. Every person had a soul and a life.
Every person had a heart.
Except him.
Which is why it surprised you when he let you borrow his strength for the first time. And then for the second time. For someone who hated you so much, he hated letting you lose to someone else so much more. And yet you could understand why.
So, you issued your challenge. You needed him to earn his right for combat.
You needed to see if he was truly heartless and what that heart was made of.
Heart (härt) - Noun: Courage or enthusiasm especially when maintained during a difficult situation
Your death is quick. You barely feel the blade but you certainly feel the blood. But only for a moment. But only for a second.
And in that second, you think back.
You came because Dazai told you to. You followed because he needed you to be his Eyes. You said you'd let that damned weretiger die.
But he knew you didn't mean it.
And he was right.
He was always right.
You'd always sort of hated that about him.
You'd known this fight was no longer in your favor- it had stopped the second that damned sword came out. No. That was a lie. Your favor had never existed in this fight- not so long as it was Fukuchi you were fighting.
So, you'd had to make a choice. One that determined how many deaths would be marked and how many bodies found. You'd just known that- however you chose -one of those bodies would be yours.
Sacrificing yourself for the weretiger is not something you truly ever thought you'd do- for many reasons -but you let your blood spill for him nonetheless. You forced him to flee- knowing he'd wouldn't understand why.
As much as your heart had protested- as much as it had wished to beat and beat and beat for just a few moments longer -your heart had known you would not listen. Your heart had known it had to steel itself in order to do what you needed to do. The courage to sacrifice for the weretiger you had wanted so desperately to kill.
And then your heart stopped.
And then your eyes opened.
Heart (härt) - Noun: One's innermost character, feelings, or inclinations
You'd never seen into someone's heart before- not like this.
Before the blade, you'd just been glad to see Akutagawa alive again- even if not quite himself as before but more himself than when you last saw him. You'd been afraid he was lost forever, your voice not reaching his ears, no matter how loud you cried or how strong your faith.
He was back and he was strong and you knew you couldn't let him die again. Even if it wasn't a true death. It was your turn to save him- to show him that you wanted him to stay.
And now here you stood, in the mires of his heart and it wasn't quite what you thought it would be. You watched him play out emotions you recognized in situations you recognized born of desire you recognized. And in this moment, you realized his heart was just as bruised as your own.
His heart was just as damaged and bound by a need intrinsic.
You let yourself walk through the alleys of his heart and his soul, letting his memories and experiences wash over you. His emotions, pure and entire.
His vengeance towards a world that never gave to him. His rage at a world that took from him. His hunger for purpose and for praise. His hatred for you and what you stood for. His anger. His pain. His desire.
His every beat of his heart.
A heartbeat you felt begin to resound with your own.
Heart (härt) - Noun: Love, Affection
You couldn't help but be angry- though who or what the emotion was directed at was unclear. You were angry at the Weretiger for being so stupid as to sacrifice himself. Angry at the being that killed him. Angry at the man who caused all this.
Angry at yourself for letting it happen and angry at yourself for needing his death to remember.
But you needed to fight because you refused to let his actions become null and void. So, you would continue to fight- as he would. You fought and you fought and you fought, feeling that familiar chill up your spine again. That feeling of death.
And yet.
And yet.
You don't think of the man you've spent your life trying to please, clawing for acknowledgement from until your fingers painted in red. You think of a fool so... foolish that he died for you of all people. A man who would rather die that let himself become a burden. A man who had called to you when you were lost in the prison of your own mind- reaching out no matter how much pain you caused him.
And you had heard him. Even if you could not respond, you had heard him because how could you not? His cries and his faith had not reached your ears but your soul which was so tethered to him and his at this point you were unsure where his started and yours began.
Death waiting once again, you do not see or hear Dazai. It is all Atsushi Nakajima.
He is your ordeal.
He is your greatest challenge.
He is your most infuriating ally.
He is so much more than words can truly describe.
More than just a person.
So, no matter the dimension, no matter the god- the Weretiger WOULD be returned to you and your side.
You reach forward again, your fight far from over, and you let it drive you. You let it guide your hand and your blade. It which has guided the both of you ever since the very first day you met. It which has driven you from the very start.
That which drives us to act, a mysterious thing called the Heart.