Chapter Text
You know the saying that goes "doesn't matter how great you are, there will always be a child who's better than you"? Well, Dazai has a first-hand experience and can state that it couldn't be more true.
You see, this brunet who's yet to graduate in college used to be very invested in music when younger. Since elementary school, he was always inexplicably drawn to various musical instruments - and was good in them - though he made better in some rather than others.
(A classical occurrence of an instrument that Dazai absolutely couldn't bring himself to play and ended up being the first of his defeats was the cello, in which Fyodor Dostoevsky was infinitely better than him - as much as it irks him to admit).
You must know the drill, especially if you've ever been called the "gifted child": you discover that you're very good in something, likes to do it in the beginning, but ends up being weighed down with way too many expectations of the people around you who somehow thinks you're the absolute best and can't afford to fail.
Key word, you're a child.
So our gifted-child-turned-burnout-adult in turn is Dazai Osamu, who is a college student graduating in laws and is at a moment's notice to give up in his music passion completely and throw away (or rather sell, because he's not stupid) his last instrument: The Violin.
If you're an observant reader, you most definitely noticed the air of importance the violin carries within itself. Well, brace yourself, dear reader, because there's indeed quite the story about this violin.
(Hence why it's the only instrument that survived Dazai's wrath when he decided he's had enough of being the good child).
For this, we need to go back in time to the early High School of our subject. Dazai, despite being an extrovert, was never one to make friends, much less friends of his age, finding it better to hang around people close to his guardian (such as little Elise, who's been keeping him company ever since he's come into Mori's care) or sticking to older students, albeit never making a move to befriend them.
That was, until Nakahara Chuuya came crashing into his life.
(As in, literally, the guy came crashing down the cenery of a school spectacle. That was one of the few things at the time that managed to make Dazai laugh).
I'll use the opportunity to warn you in advance: from now on we'll be moving to Dazai's favourite topic, so beware - it's gonna be long.
See, reader-san, Chuuya was truly a sight to beckon with. Fiery auburn hair, loyal to his fierce personality, matched with piercing heterochromatic eyes in blue and brown and a flawless fashion sense made the petite male an hypnotizing individual.
While the looks got people's attention, the personality was the determinator between hate and love: you'd either be wary of him, disaproving of his straightforwardness, smart mouth and blatant expression of his opinions, positive or not, or find yourself captivated by such force of will and presence of spirit that made a point of not simply watch idly as life passed over him.
Suffice to say, Dazai settled in the second category.
In those hetic years, just stray of childhood, his so called "dog" (a kinda unfair nickname if the brunet was honest, since he hate dogs but not the ginger) was like the Sun: a constant source of heat and light that - despite having ups and downs as days pass - will always be there.
(And if the simple remind of his existence made the taller one of the two of them consider giving life a chance and his smile had a way of melting through the numb cold of Dazai's chest, then it was no one's business).
They fought like dogs most of the time (Chuuya often complained about how the other have an awful knack of making dog metaphors when around him), but would undoubtedly have each other's backs when worse comes to worst, and that's honestly all someone needs sometimes.
All in all, their duo ensured a good amount of chaos during school years and forged a companionship that would follow them for years to come, even though they would follow different paths when in College.
(Chuya was currently graduating in Physics, which never failed to amuse Dazai, since the ginger spent most of his time studying on how to break the laws of physics or at the very least bend it to his will.
One of his best memories was when the shorty made a fire hurricane for a school project. Surprisingly, it didn't end in arson, much to the brunet's dismay, but it was still amusing anyways).
One among the many ways Dazai was impacted by Chuuya was regarding his musical experience. He played a toon of instruments and that was no secret, but it still took him by surprise when the shorter teenager sneaked into the auditorium to listen to him playing when he was practicing.
And since the ginger was a box of surprises - most of them positive -, Dazai really shouldn't have found it baffling when Chuuya pulled a violin as a birthday gift for him. When questioned, he shrugged and said that he was in need of a bit of classical music, so the brunet was going to give it to him.
As such, Dazai learned how to play The Violin.
Contrary to all expectations, he decided to keep his playing to himself and Chuuya, and actually dedicated himself in learning the art of the instrument thoroughly, enjoying the time it took him to master it and the way the ginger seemed elated every time he saw the gift being put to use.
Despite everything going seamlessly smoothly, some (to read: a lot of) things happened, bad things, and Dazai found himself going through his emo phase, which would end up leading him to the infamous burnout.
This might seem like a too vague description, but blame Dazai for that, reader-san. After all, he's the one who's information you're receiving and the job of a narrator is to relate only what the informant find relevant relating.
Such as the fact that he broke and set fire to basically all of his instruments except for The Violin, only to regret his impulsive decision bitterly after realising that he could've used the money of selling them to pay his studies.
Anyways.
Just as he's done with himself some years ago, he was under the impression that no one would miss his violin should he dispose of it. Who would even want him to play it? Chuuya certainly wouldn't anymore, he thought.
Still, he couldn't simply get rid of something that was a gift from his chibi, especially taking into consideration how difficult it had been, at the time, for the other to save enough money to buy him a good enough violin.
(That's not even taking into consideration how Chuuya personally painted and personalized the instrument to fit Dazai's taste perfectly).
So yeah, Dazai was in quite the predicament.
And so, he decided to deal with it like the adult he was: he ignored the problem until the pang of his heart became unbearable and he was forced to take action in a way or another.
If only he could just reach out to Chuuya, like in the old times, and ask for advice or simply make sure whether he still liked his playing or not. Because in all honesty, should the very person who's the reason for the importance of the violin not give a damn about it at all, then it'd be as good as nothing.