...no. no you don't.

the cool evening breeze flowed around you, the ragged awning above fluttering like an agitated bird's wings, a distant wind chime rattling and clashing.

“how come you never tried that out?“, you asked; chewing on a tapioca pearl of your winter melon bubble tea, you leant against the dusty window of the vacated bookshop.

“good question,“ he replied, sipping some more of his honeydew-flavoured beverage. “probably because i work much and walk directly home when i'm done.“

you hummed deep in thought, then, wanting to prove a theory of yours, you continued inquiring.

“what about keeping a pet?“

“nope.“

“stargaze all night?“

“no.“

“skydiving?“

“only without a parachute.“

“bungee jumping maybe?“

“oh, i did that! without the rope of course; but before i could meet my sweet demise, an angry little munchkin saved me. okay, well, he kicked my ass afterwards, but still.“

you laughed out loud at the imagination of that and nearly spilled some of your tea; meeting dazai's gaze, he rolled his eyes and mocked your amusement.

“ha-ha,“ he echoed, finished his drink and gesticulated around with the cup. “i tell you, my grandchildren will feel that pain, i swear!“

“grandchildren?“, you wheezed out, wiped away a tear from your laughing; taking a deep breath, you added, “ 'didn't know you had family plans.“

he tilted his head at you, savoured the rest of his drink with an absolutely blank expression in his eyes, as if something like that had never dared to cross his mind.

oh, until now.

when he was done, the brunette turned to a nearby bin, threw the cup inside, and flashed you a smile, wide and unmoving.

that abnormal smile stretching across his face like the cheshire cat's, the corners of his mouth twitching as if he struggled to keep this charade up, his teeth bared and lips slightly parted.

it vanished as soon as it had appeared, being replaced with a sigh and dazai closing his eyes, shaking his head curtly.

“right,“ he answered. “i don't have any.“

it sounded more like he tried to reassure himselves, and he did a horrible job at that.

(maybe i don't know him as well as i thought i did.)

you broke the eerie, uncomfortable silence by nodding towards the shop, empty aside from cobwebs hanging between the racks and stacks of books piled everywhere the owners could find space.

“wanna go in there? i bet they've got some classics,“ you offered, winking at him to lift his spirits.

lift his spirits? why am i lifting his-

dazai huffed a laugh, stepped closer to the smudged door and peeked inside, all the while holding his hands up beside his eyes as if he carried imaginary binoculars with him.

it was adorable, actually. in that moment, he looked every bit the child he never got to be, excited and curious and so, so young.

“well then, y/n,“ he stated when he finished his examination, an euphoric glint in his - still, too dull - coffee brown eyes. “shall we go in, do trespassing, cause some ruckus?“

“wouldn't that be bad to our records?“, you questioned, already pulling out an antique hairpin you'd found somewhere, twirling it between your fingers with a wide grin.

dazai tsked, opened his mouth just as you did, and both of you spoke,

“well, they can't get worse than they already are.“