Loving Dazai

A BRUSH OF PAINT

Seated in one of the leather booths, Dazai stared at the floor, absent-minded. There were two strippers hanging by the pole, their movements deliberate and sensual. They reached out to each other and laughed. Their hips swaying, exuding slow-burning allure.

The music thumped through the walls of the private room, a low, steady beat that vibrated in the air. Dim neon lights flickered. The club belonged to Kato—a front, a meeting place for the underworld.

Across from him, Detective Laird leaned back, an arm casually slung over the back of the seat, a smirk playing at his lips as he watched girl’s dance.

"You really don’t seem like the type to enjoy a place like this," Laird mused, eyeing Dazai’s face. "Shame. You could use some fun."

Dazai took a slow sip from his cup of whiskey, looked at Laird and shrugged his shoulders, he tipped his glass and drowned the whole whiskey. Laird was one of those detectives in the narcotics that leeched and leeched to get what they want. The disadvantage of having to work with him was that he always wanted more than was offered and the advantage was that he was pretty damn good at his job.

Laird chuckled, shaking his head. "Suit yourself."

One of the strippers—a striking brunette with legs that seemed to go on forever— left the stage and walked to Laird. She trailed a teasing finger along the detective’s shoulder. He let out an exaggerated sigh, then roughly pulled the girl onto his lap and kissed her roughly. He released her lips and looked at Dazai who was wearing a bored expression "See, that’s the problem with you," he continued. "Always too serious." Then he looked at the brunette “Can I f**k this one?”

“Suit yourself.” Dazai leaned forward and dropped his empty glass on the table. "Let’s get to the point."

“She got big tits.”

“Laird”

Laird’s smirk didn’t waver, but his posture shifted slightly. "Fine. New policies. More heat on the streets. The higher-ups are pressing for results. They want something big to make a statement. And if they don’t get it? They’ll start digging deeper."

Dazai exhaled slowly “I see but that is no news. So, where do you stand in all of this?"

"Right where I always stand," Laird said, tilting his head. "On the side that pays me. But if I’m going to keep feeding you information, I might need... a little extra incentive. Consider it hazard pay."

Dazai studied him for a long moment and chuckled "Aren’t you being…a little bit greedy?"

Laird laughed, but it was forced. "I just like to be prepared. If things don’t go as planned, I don’t want to be the one caught in any crossfire."

"Then don’t be." Dazai said.

Laird played with the strippers hardened n*****s "Always the cryptic one. Fine. Just know that when things get messy, I expect some insurance on my end."

Dazai didn’t respond. Instead, he poured more whiskey into his glass.

Laird assessed Dazai, shitty Bastard. He then let out a small laugh. "Alright, alright. I’ll tell you uh… whatever, I will keep you posted."

Dazai pushed himself up from the sofa, grabbed his drink and headed toward the exit of the private room. Laird sat still for a moment, his mind already sorting through the implications of the conversation. After Dazai left, he then sighed “Bullshit.” he took a sip from his glass before pouring the rest on the stripper’s breast. “How deep can you take me?”

Dazai stepped out of the private room, his mind still occupied with the conversation that had just taken place. As he moved toward the exit, the smoky air swirled around him, a familiar figure blocked his path. Sienna stood there, her lips curling into a knowing smirk. She was tall, with dark waves cascading over her bare shoulders, and her skin glowed under the neon lights.

"Leaving so soon?" she purred, tilting her head. She walked to him and fingers trailed up his forearm, a teasing touch that lingered longer than necessary. "You never stay long."

Dazai glanced at her, he knew Sienna had taken an interest in him—her subtle glances, the way she always seemed to be around when he was here. So, he f****d her. It wasn't unusual for her to approach him But not tonight. He had things to do.

"Got things to do." he said simply.

She stepped closer, closing the distance between them. "You work too much," she murmured, her breath warm against his skin. "Stay. Let me take your mind off things. Just for a night."

Dazai exhaled slowly, amusement flickering in his dark eyes. "Tempting. But not tonight."

Sienna rolled her eyes, tracing a finger down the front of his coat "You always say that. Maybe one day I'll stop asking. I still think of you…. you know, the other night. I crave you every now and then."

Dazai stepped aside and walked past her “Not tonight,” he said without looking back, he pulled out his phone and dialed Kato as he walked to his car.

Back at his apartment, the warmth of the space contrasted the cold night outside. He tossed his jacket onto the couch and moved straight to the kitchen. Pulling out a container of leftovers, he placed it in the microwave. The soft hum filling the otherwise quiet apartment.

As he waited, he ran a hand through his hair, exhaling slowly. The meeting had gone as expected, but dealing with power-hungry cops was always an annoyance.

He warmed up some pizza and, once it was done, he rinsed off the dish, stripped off his shirt, and headed to the bathroom.

A hot shower did little to wash away the weight of the night, but it was enough to clear his head. After drying off and throwing on a pair of shorts, he moved toward the large canvas set up in the corner of his bedroom.

He picked up a brush, dipping it into a deep shade of blue, and began to paint. Each stroke was deliberate—an outlet for thoughts he never spoke aloud. Minutes turned to hours. The apartment was silent except for the soft scrape of the brush against the canvas. He was immersed.

By the time he stepped back to examine his work, the night had stretched into the early hours of the morning. He sighed, rolling his shoulders. The painting was incomplete, much like everything else in his life.

But that was fine.

Tomorrow was another day, another game to play.