Work Text:
There was a painting of a man in grey in Japan. The artist is unknown, only with a signature of; "D.O." on the lower right corner of the painting. No one knows where it came from, it was just displayed in the art exhibit one day, five years ago.
Upon research by a few people, there was an account with the same signature that posts of other paintings with the grey man. People were in awe at the sheer beauty of the paintings that it soon became well known.
The first painting, hanged on the exhibit was named as; "太陽" [The Sun], the grey man—skin, hair and eyes being various shades of grey—was laying down on the fields, surrounded by yellow sunflowers, with the grass colored in the lightest blue there is. His expression calm and content as the sun shined bright behind him.
The man was colorless in a field of bright yellows and blues, yet despite that, he seemed to be the warmest in the painting. Everyone was in awe with the clever use of colors. And soon after, the grey man was soon famous and familiar to people, especially to those studying art.
The artist's works consisted of only the grey man in various other poses and colors. With the feeling being the same as the first one, colorful yet the main attraction lacks color.
There were several discussion forums talking about the symbolism behind the colors and the story behind the paintings, but with no confirmation from the artist themselves, they can only speculate.
A popular theory made by a french artist who was a big fan of D.O. had shared a French novel with a similar story under the name of, "Les rêves sont les malheurs d'un homme" [Dreams are a man's woes], published three years ago. The story told of lovers only meeting in dreams, with them lacking color while the world reeked of it. It was a short novel, but it told enough.
People had talked of the similarities and the connection between the two artists. Some said it's connected while some claimed it's merely a coincidence.
In the end, no one will know of the truth if the artists themselves do not give confirmation.
"Live your life, Osamu. I'm not worth the sacrifice."
Dazai gasped as he bolted up from his bed, fist clutching at his chest as he struggled to breathe. He didn't know how long he spent there, Chuuya's last words echoing through his head.
It was unfair, how Dazai was so affected by a man who wasn't even real. A few laughs slips out of his mouth from the absurdity of it all. This was his routine, waking up from a restless sleep with no dreams, crying and laughing over his memories with a man he met on his dreams, a man who wasn't even real but the only one who cared enough to love him.
It was absurd.
His bones creaked as he stands up, heading straight for his painting station. He doesn't even bother to eat or drink. The only thing in his mind is to finish the paintings. He intended to finish and publish 7 of them, 6 of which he's already done with in under five months. With the speed he's going, he'll finish the last one by the end of the next evening.
His stomach rumbles in hunger, he does not remember when he last ate, nor does he intend to satiate the hunger, the only thing in his mind is to paint, paint, paint.
He can't afford to forget the dreams, he can't forget Chuuya. Even if it's the last thing he does. So he continues, as if his life depends on it. He does nothing but paint, and as he finishes the painting, as he puts the last stroke, as he stands—he collapses.
He lands on the floor with a loud 'thump', skin sickly pale, thin from hunger—from not eating for weeks,—eyes dark from a lack of sleep. He was a dead man walking, with the desire to finish his painting holding his life until he finished.
He died. For a man who does not exist. And his body will rot for months. Until his brother will find him, rotting and being eaten by insects; His poor little Ryuunosuke will be the one to have to see him in that state and he was too dead to even feel sorry for him.
The paintings will stay in his house, until his father had to take them and give them away. The paintings will remain in existence, as it tells the story of a man drowning in his madness with no way out, chained there and bleeding, heart taken from his heart and squeezed till it popped. It will remain to be gawked at, with no one understanding that it was a plea for help.
He will be buried as a son and a brother, as Dazai Osamu and not as a madman too caught up in his delusions to live in reality.
No one will know of the state his body was in, no one but his brother. And Ryuunosuke will not tell a soul about what he saw, about what plague his nightmares.
No one will know that he was a dead man walking.