#Dazai is there because….I can’t seem to stop drawing him no matter what

[saltedbiscuiit]

Short hair Chuuya

[dreamkidddream]

So far of reading your writing, I really love it! :)) May I request Kunikida, Dazai and Ranpo having an younger member of the agency being a sort of subordinate of them but acts a lot like a younger sibling to them? She's just really pure hearted and soft and really looks up to them so she likes helping them out a lot. Just some fluff because my boys deserve all love and affection

Awww thank you so much for the compliment!! This request is so cute, and yes, all the boys deserve all the love and affection that is possible cause they go through too much 😭 Anon requested this as platonic, and reader is gender neutral. Also, I wasn’t too sure what the age should be, so I went with Kyoka’s age, which is 14. Hope you enjoy!

TW: Mentions of suicide in Dazai’s part, but nothing too heavy or specific is mentioned. It does get kinda sad though, but it has a happy ending. Also, slight spoiler for season 2/Dark Era Arc, but nothing too major

Young ADA Member Acting like a Younger Sibling to: Kunikida, Dazai, and Ranpo

Kunikida

Okay, so when you first started at the office, people (specifically Naomi and Junichiro) were nervous when you got paired up with Kunikida. And Kunikida isn’t a bad man by any means, but he can be very, very, very strict

And how well do rules stick with kids/younger people? Exactly. It just sounded like a bomb waiting to explode

And you look so soft and so sweet! What if he made you cry?!

Which Naomi threatened to draw blood if he did

Even Kunikida himself was nervous. This was not written in his notebook to be a glorified babysitter!

But the President insisted, putting faith into you that you’ll be a great addition to the team and that he can lead you on the right path and not into trouble like some people he won’t mention (Dazai)

That was all that he needed to hear, and he took those words very serious. He won’t let the President down, and he wasn’t going to let you down either. You guys were gonna give it your all, whether you were ready to or not

But, to everyone’s surprise (really his) you both adapted well. You treated him with respect, said yes sir, no sir, tidied up both of your desks (which were right next to each other), you even tried to abide by his stern schedule without any complaints

You were a great help on missions too, you didn’t recklessly throw yourself into danger, and you made sure to look out for citizens to keep them safe and out of danger

And that wasn’t it, oh no

You made sure to bring him snacks (atleast the ones that he said were ideal), made sure that he was keeping hydrated and not tensed up all the time (working in this office will do that to you), and to make his workload as light as possible

After seeing him go off on Dazai for the 1000th time and getting wound up over a case that wasn’t getting any leads, you saw how stressed and frustrated he was getting. Mumbling to himself about how could he “replace the President if he couldn’t do this right”So you tapped on your shoulder, with one goal in mind: To comfort him

When you tapped his shoulder, he turned and yelled, “WHAT NOW?!”, right into your face

Time stood still as everyone froze, shocked. Even Kunikida himself after he saw it was you.

He felt immediately guilty, about to apologize for losing his cool when you began speaking

“Mr. Kunikida, please don’t stress too much. It’s not good for your heart! And don’t let this one thing stop you! You’re a great leader, and someone that I look up to. I wouldn’t be where I was at now without you! So please don’t doubt yourself, because we don’t, especially me! You’re my role model, Mr. Kunikida. Please, don’t ever forget that.”

After that, it was like a flip switched in him

“(Y/N), come here and walk very slowly.”

You did so with no hesitation, but you were curious

“Your shoe is untied. Here, let me tie it for you. It wouldn’t be ideal if you get injured because of a lousy shoelace. It wouldn’t be ideal if you got injured at all.”

“(Y/N), we have lunch scheduled at exactly 12:15. They’re also serving your favorite today, so we can’t be late, understand?”

“Yes sir!”, you said with a smile

“(Y/N), let’s go. It’s getting dark and if you still want to see that dreaded light show, we have to leave in 20 seconds to make it! I don’t want to see you sad or hear you complain if we miss it.”

“Coming sir! Just finishing up some work for tomorrow-“

“I already have it written in my notebook on when it will be done, so we can go.”

“Here you go Mr. Kunikida, I already typed up and printed out the reports for later on!”

“Thanks kid. And you don’t have to keep calling me Mister okay? Kunikida is fine.”

Dead silent in the office

KUNIKIDA is letting someone way younger than him just call him KUNIKIDA? Not MR.KUNIKIDA???

Everyone is, realistically, shook

But as time went on, they understood why

He came to look after you as his own

The entire ADA would have never thought the day would come (it wasn’t even in the notebook!) where he would care for a kid like his little sibling but here it was, right in front of their faces

But they weren’t complaining at all. You seemed to make his day a little brighter, and he wasn’t as uptight as much (but don’t be mistaken he was still Kunikida, just at an 8 instead of a whole 10)

After that mini pep talk that fateful day, he made it his duty to be a good role model for you. To always set a good example, both in and out the office.

He wouldn’t fail you, and he would be damned if he let anything happen to you

You’re a good kid, and you only deserve the best. And he was gonna be the best role model (and brother) for you

Dazai

Aw man, he was..conflicted to say the least

Listen, it’s not like he hates kids or teens, but it’s just extra responsibilities to watch over them. And he already slacks off enough to begin with, so is this really a good idea sticking a 14 year-old with him?

And lowkey, the way that he treated Akutagawa is still heavy on his mind, and he doesn’t want a repeat

But the President made it so, and Kunikida was ready to attack if he even thought about denying the order. Plus, it could be like another Atsushi around (another person to pass work off too) so that was a win!

And another person to annoy Kunikida too

You looked so pure and innocent. Are you sure that you’re in the right place? 

He genuinely thought you were a lost kid when you came up to him the first time lmao

Geez, you even sound sweet too! How has this world not damage or corrupt you yet?

“Hi Mr. Dazai! It’s nice to meet you. I hope that we can make a great team, and that I’m here to help if you need anything!”

“Nice to meet you too. And now that you mention it, these reports have been giving me a hard time...”

Not gonna lie, he did take advantage of your help. You offered, so why not? He thought you were gonna get sick of it soon and start complaining, but nope

You took his reports and did it with no hesitation every time. And you always handed it to him with a bright smile. On top of that, you always cleaned up his area and behind him, you did any leftover work that he ignored forgot to do so that he wouldn’t get yelled at, and tried to bring him small snacks and even packed a whole lunch for him when you noticed that he didn’t eat a lot

He even started to feel pretty bad and he was getting disapproving looks from his fellow detectives (even Kenji, and he never frowns)

So he started to take back and *GASP* actually do his work?!

But you stopped him, and told him that he should, “Take it easy! You work hard enough as it is saving the city. It’s no problem doing these reports, and I want to help you in any way I can, Mr. Dazai.”

“(Y/N), don’t worry, I can do them. And remember it’s just Dazai, calling me Mister makes me feel old like Kunikida-”

“I HEARD THAT!” 

And it seemed like you really cared for his wellbeing, especially when you had to accompany him on missions

Well, it just so happen that while you were going with Atsushi to find Dazai to start a mission, you both found him

Hanging upside down, sinking to the bottom of the lake

You rushed into the water immediately, pulling him out and onto the ground while Atsushi was just standing there in disbelief

Atsushi is so done with his shit

“Dazai, can you hear me?! Dazai?! Atsushi, I gotta give him CPR I don’t think he’s-”

“(Y/N) don’t worry he’s okay! This isn’t his first time he’s done this, and probably not the last.”

“W-what do you mean?”

Oh

Oh

You didn’t know about Dazai’s suicide methods? Did he not tell you or talk about it in front of you? Atsushi would have been somewhat proud of him if this whole situation didn’t happen, but here we are

“Geez, guess this method isn’t for me. It seems like someone is bound to always inter- hm, (Y/N)? What are doing out of the office? What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

You hugged his chest tightly, not caring that he was practically soaked down to the bone

“Please stop, Dazai! Why are you doing this? Why are you trying to leave everyone?! Why are you trying to leave ME?!”

That got his attention

“Your life is important, Dazai, too important to try and end it on your own terms! You’re special to me, I look up to you. You’re smart, funny, and you help everyone out in your own special way. If you weren’t here anymore, everyone would be so lost...I would be so lost..,I-I-I wouldn’t know what to do-”

“(Y/N)-”

You looked up, eyes red and puffy with tears rolling down your cheeks, but filled with determination

“I promise you that I will make sure you know how much you matter to everyone. I swear on my life that I will.”

Okay, so you know how you were helpful/adorable before? On a scale of 1-10, you were definitely at an 11. But Dazai felt like you were at a 20

At first, he thought that you weren’t being genuine. You were just a young kid who didn’t know any better and was just trying to do your job, in sickeningly, oversweet way. I mean, who would really care about him with his horrid past? He was convinced that you were just naïve, and that the world would swallow you whole when it gets the chance. And it made him feel pity for you

But you proved him wrong

You weren’t just some ignorant child. You were in this agency working alongside him for a reason. And you reminded him of that everyday when he saw you working, handling the cases, taking actions on missions, all the while being kindhearted through and through 

You especially went out of way for him, and it was both a warm and scary feeling. People that he ended up caring for shared an undeserving fate, and he blamed himself for it constantly. So he tried to keep his distance, for your safety. You still had a life to live, and he didn’t want to ruin that for you.

But it was kinda hard to when you work together, and with you constantly being under his wing trying to show him the good in life and the difference that he made, he couldn’t help but admit it

You proved him wrong, and not a lot of people can say that. 

You went out of your way to make sure that everyone was okay, mentally and physically. He didn’t want to admit it, but you made the office (and his life) a little bit more bearable when you were around. You’re a good kid. And it was so fun to rope you and sometimes Atsushi into his schemes lmao y’all can be so gullible sometimes

Unfortunately, he still planned to leave this world, but he tried not to talk about it in front of or around you, and his number of attempts did dwindle, so that was a good thing

“Hey (Y/N), let’s grab something to eat, I would be a terrible person if I let my dear little baby assistant go hungry.”

“Dazai, if you’re hungry, you can just say that. I don’t mind finishing this later. It’s good to eat when you need to, and your health is #1 priority!”

He couldn’t take back his past and the way he abused Akutagawa, but he could certainly make sure that he doesn’t make the same mistakes

And that would start with being a decent role model for you. He won’t exactly be a “model citizen”, but he will always do the right thing. He’s turned over a new leaf by turning to the light, and while his methods aren’t always legal, he won’t stray from it again

And he won’t let you stray either

Ranpo

He was not a happy camper at all, let me tell you

Hello, do you know who he is?? He’s the greatest detective in the world! Why would the President think he need a sidekick?! He saw you working under him as an insult. Were they trying to say that he wasn’t good enough on his own?!

You weren’t exactly welcome with open arms, but that was okay! You were a complete stranger to him, but you were hoping that would change overtime

And Fukuzawa offered to praise him if he took you in so he stopped pouting momentarily

“Hi Mr. Ranpo! I’ve heard great things about you, and I hope that we can get along!”

“Well, of course you’ve heard great things about me, I’m the greatest detective in the world! It would be a crime if you didn’t hear about me.”

It was a rocky start between you guys to say the least. Not only was he lazy with the work he already had (I mean, it was too easy for him), but you were always willing to complete it (which you did, when you realized that maybe he was too tired or had other important things to worry about)

Who are you trying to fool, this man was just being lazy 

But you either didn’t realize it or you just purposely ignored it to get it done for the sake of the agency. Bless your pure heart for putting up with that poutyface 

Despite that, you handled everything with positivity and pride. When discussing cases (even though he would solve it in under a minute), you already had the reports ready to go, took notes for him, and you even tidied up his desk (which really consisted of his snack pile)

And you were starting to grow on him. You were like his mini cheerleader/#1 fan. His ego was going through the roof

On missions, it was a piece of cake for him, duh! With his ability, Super Deduction, it was always easy. And you were in the background, in awe with everything going on. He wanted to say he was surprised, but he would be lying. It would be a downright lie if you said you weren’t impressed with his ability and with him in general.

You repeatedly praised him, and he always gave you the same response: 

“World’s greatest detective, remember?”

The one thing that would cause him to see you in a new light, was when he got lost. You remembered Kunikida mentioning that he wasn’t the best at navigating the train system

He really said that Ranpo didn’t even know how to read the schedule, and that someone had to always walk with him to make sure he was going to the right places. 

He just wanted to go back to the office to his beloved snacks, when this happened. He wasn’t stupid by any means, but it was a waste to use his ability on something trivial as this-

“Mr. Ranpo! Wait for me!”

Just as he knew, you were running late meeting him

“Hey (Y/N) what took you so long?! My beloved snacks are calling for me back at the agency, and I need to answer-”

“Don’t worry, I packed you some!”

“Yeah, I already knew that since that’s the reason you’re late. And before you ask, you look out of breath, the receipt is still crumpled in your hand, and I see some crumbs from something you already ate on your clothes.”

Huh. Was it that obvious? You guess so...

Or maybe Ranpo really is the world’s greatest detective!

“I know, I know. I’m the best, no need to tell-”‘

“Mr. Ranpo, you deserve all the praise that you get. You’re someone I want to be like when I get older.”

“Hm?”, there you go praising him again, but you were crying

“I feel like people don’t take you seriously like they should, Just because you don't fight like the others doesn’t mean that you’re not a valuable asset to the group! And I wish people saw you like how I do! You’re my inspiration to do my best everyday. And I know that I can’t be the best detective, but I want to be as strong and intelligent and brave just like you so I can save people and be a motivating hero like you!”

He’s silent, and your words are sinking in. You’re wiping away your tears, the start of an apology on the tip of your tongue, when he suddenly put his hand on top of your head

He’s staring right at you, glasses on and green eyes open for you to see

“You’re already on your way there (Y/N). That I know. And I’m never wrong with my deductions, let alone when using my ability.”

The flood gates have OPENED 

You know that he doesn’t technically have an ability, but that doesn’t stop you from accepting his words and finding them as the truth. If Ranpo said it, he meant it. He was the world’s greatest detective, and you didn’t have any doubt in him

“Now let’s go, it’s going to start raining and I don’t want us to be hungry and drenched. Plus, Kunikida is totally freaking out and thinking that we’re both lost and in some criminal’s hideout right now.”

After that fateful day, the dynamic shifted between you two. Instead of you just doing the work, he pushed it off on someone else so he could explain to you about the different cases he had to solve, and other detective matters

Really he was just bragging and having you both slack off, but it didn’t matter you guys were still having fun

It even got to a point where he shared some snacks with you from his sacred snack pile

BOY WAS THAT THE TALK OF THE OFFICE 

All in all, while he knew that you couldn’t be the greatest detective (that was his title after all), he would help you get to your goal regardless. Not that you would need a lot of extra help, he was watching over you after all, and you already have a good head on your shoulders along with the heart of a hero

Every Sherlock needs a Watson, and he deducted that it wasn’t too bad having you by his side

[who-ever-said-i-was-nice]

OH MY GOD THOSE LEO SHORTS WERE PERFECTION!!!!!! 😍😍😍 a bouquet of potatoes loooooool I was HOWLING 😂😂😂 your Leonardo is so on point I literally cannot - this is exactly how I picture him! Thank you so much you beautiful human 😊❤ I'm so so sorry but I love your writing so much can I make another request? the suitors comforting an mc whose social anxiety flares up while they're out in town/having a panic attack? If you don't feel like it or aren't comfortable with it that's 100% alright 💖

I’m sooooooooo sorry for making you wait this long. i feel like I’m going o be apologizing for all eternity. I am really happy you like my work. ahahhhaha I try. XD Anyhoooo of course I will make this. I can honestly write about anything, if I’m writing ,even if the thought would bother me in real life, it seems so much more acceptable. idk is it just me. Maybe it’s because I get to control the events. Yeah so I will stop wasting your time and I will get into it. Also I would like to say that I have never had a panic attack. I’m writing this from the information I got from my friends who had experienced this. So if this is not accurate pls don’t come for me.

Warnings: Panic attacks pretty self-explanatory since it’s in the asks but I’ll put it here just in case

Comte

So you were walking with are friendly neighborhood gentleman

it was pretty ok since most of the road was pretty empty

but when you turned the corner you suddenly found yourself in the most crowded road there could possibly be

you kept brushing shoulders with random people and you felt like everything was closing onto you

you breathing sped up and yet no matter how much air you breathed in it felt like your lungs where hollow

you staggered and leaned into Comte

he noticed you where in distress and immediately pulled you aside

he sat on a bench and pulled you into his lap

he gently stroked your hair and whispered soothing words in your ear until you calmed down

The next ones are in the following location: a very, very crowded street, during a festival

Leonardo

You were just about half way into your outing when Leo noticed you where acting a bit strange

He quickly caught on when you started breathing rapidly tho

Internally he’s like oh shit oh shit but he’s actually super chill about it

Like Comte he will pull you aside and sit you down on a bench 

He however, places his two hands right next to you, blocking the view and caging you in between his arms

He smiles down at you softly and caresses your hair until your breathing becomes regular again 

Arthur

Ahahahahahahhahahhaha he’s dead

When he sees you he immediately knows

I mean he’s a doctor, come on

He pulls you aside as quickly as humanly or vampirely possible

He will twirl you into an empty alley and pull you into a tight hug, while peppering your face with kisses

He will whisper sweet nothings into your ear and will tell you that everything will be alright

He holds you like this for a long time and even after you’re ok he doesn’t want to let you go

Theo

Poor boy almost had a heart attack

He will immediately notice

He’s not sure exactly what’s going on but that does not stop him from pulling you away to a quiet part of the street and hugging you saying something like “It’s alright Y/N. I got you.”

He used you name OH MAH GAWD

No I’m kidding sort of

He will hold you close with your ear pressed up against his chest, allowing you to hear his heartbeat 

After you calm down he’ll kiss the top of your head chuckling “ My silly little Hondjie”

Vincent

Heart attack nr.2

He will immediately pull you aside and will ask you what’s wrong

And that would be cute and all

If you could actually answer

Poor boy has no idea what the heck is going on

In the end he will hug you and start to cry and beg you to stay with him

When you recover and realize that the love of your life, this sweet baby angel little boy is crying, you instantly feel guilty

You explain to him that it’s ok and this happens sometimes when there is a big crowd

This little bean thought you were dying

He will get it once you explain it to him tho

Dazai

He knew what’s going on

He scooped you up and took you to a quiet corner and squatted down in front of you patting your head gently and smiling reassuringly

He places your hand on his heart and whispers

“ Can you feel that Y/n? That heart beats for you. Let it sooth you in your time of need.”

Smooth motherfucker 

You calm down and you look at his still smiling face

Even though he smiles you can still see the worry in his eyes

He pulls you close

“Are you feeling better Toshiko-san?”

Mozart

This boi…... nope nope nope

He can’t handle this

As soon as he sees you hyperventilating he panics as well

On the inside

On the outside he seems super calm about it

He leads you away from the crowd and sits you down on a bench

He rests your head on his shoulder and starts humming a soft melody 

His angelic voice calms you down and you look up at him and give him a grateful smile

He returns it and takes your hand in his and you just sit there in a comfortable silence

Isaac

Unlike Mozart this baby would be losing it

He has no idea what’s happening

He quickly pulls you aside

He’s awkwardly patting your back and praying you’ll be ok

When you calm down he will pull you into a tight hug and tell you never to scare him like this again

Since then the two of you have never been seen on an overcrowded street

Not that Isaac minds

Jean

When he notices he scoops you up and hurries to a secluded area

He lets you lean against a wall but your knees buckle and you slide to the ground

He kneels before you and cups your cheek staring at you intently

You slowly start to calm down and Jean is hesitant at first, but then a pulls you into a hug letting your head rest right above his heart

When you calm down completely and try to get up since you have to keep going Jean refuses to let you go

You scared the ever loving daylights out of him

So you two end up sitting there and honestly it turned out to be much better this way

Napoleon

He immediately notices that something is off

He looks down at you, huddling into his side, and realizes what’s going on

He picks you up bridal style and runs for the nearest deserted area

Once he’s there he drops down to the ground and hugs you close, rocking you slightly

Slowly you start to calm down

You look up at the former emperor and you are surprised to see tears glistening in his eyes

He never wants to see you hurt and seeing you like this made him feel terrible and like the worst lover ever

He pulls you even closer

“ I swore to protect you nunuche, I’m sorry.”

You’re quite shocked 

You cradle is cheek and the give him a sweet kiss reassuring him that it is not his fault

Sebastian

Being from the 21st century he is sort of  familiar with the symptoms of a panic attack

So when he notices the change in your behaviour, he knows

He gently guides you to the side of the road and sits you down on a bench 

He sits next to you and holds your hands drawing soothing circles on them

when you calm down you look at him gratefully

and he

FLICKS YOUR FOREHEAD

But then he kisses you so I guess it wasn’t that bad after all

William

He is ready to stab whoever upset you

Then he realizes he would probably need to annihilate an entire street worth of people and ain’t nobody got time for that

He takes your hand and leads you to an empty bench far away from the crowded street

He strokes your hair and whispers sweet words in your ear

You calm down and he gives you a charming smile

You practically throw yourself at him and hug him tight while thanking him

That little gesture made him the happiest made on earth     

[soukokuwu]

can i get uhhhh university au with dazai yeah okay

➥ genre: fluff, university!au

➥ pairing: dazai x reader

➥ synopsis: it’s your final year of university, and the infamous suicidal bastard has just returned.

➥ warning: mentions of suicide — it’s dazai

➥ word count: 2.1k

➥ a/n: sorry this took a while prod but here’s to me hoping you like this take on a university au ✨ only the second au i’ve done (apart from grim reaper dazai) but i hope it’s okay!!

Take a chance

Mumbles stir in the lecture hall as a tall, lanky man with brown hair and bandaged arms stroll in. You look past your friend’s head to see the infamous male take his time to get seated, far in the back corner away from everyone else. He’s awfully laid back for someone who’s half an hour late for class. But why wouldn’t he be? He’s —

“Dazai Osamu.”

Attendance after being away from school for a few months: taken.

You watch as he leans back in his seat, barely even listening to the lecture. His hands fumble in his awfully dirty brown satchel for something, and seconds later his fingers are thumbing on the pages of a book with a bright red cover.

The Complete Guide to Suicide.

What a name for a book. Not that you‘re surprised. Is that where he got the inspiration for his suicide attempt? That is what he is famous for. His failed suicide attempt a few months back. It got the whole school in an uproar. Nobody even knew what exactly happened, but all that anyone knew was that paramedics were spotted outside his house. And given how he’s always had bandages wrapped around nearly his entire body, everyone just assumed it was self-harm.

You never understood why nearly every girl swooned over him when he said the same thing to each one of them. That Dazai was always basking in the limelight, always sat in the most visible part of the room. That Dazai never caught your attention.

But this Dazai does. And as his gaze shifts from his book to you; you know in that moment — you catch his too.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Attraction is a weird thing.

You spend the next few weeks simply observing him whenever he’s near. It’s intriguing — he’s intriguing. His change in behaviour, especially, is what piqued your interest. Why would an infamous casanova, who was already suicidal before, tone down his behaviour after an actual attempt? Is it enlightenment?

“Do you want to tell me what’s on your mind or should I coax it out of you?”

The smooth, velvety voice floats to your ears, startling you. You didn’t realise you had been staring in his direction for far too long. You gulp, looking around you. Anything sounds loud in the deathly silence of the library.

Dazai sits himself next to you and his eyes gloss over the book nestled between your palms. “Do you have an interest in photography?” he asks as he swiftly grabs the book from your hands and scans the pages. It’s a beginner’s guide to photography; you’d been meaning to try — that’s why you joined the photography club even though it’s your senior year.

“What does it matter to you?” you whisper back, shooting him a glare and attempting to get your book back. Dazai pulls it further away from you though, and he seems amused by your puzzled reaction.

That day he spends pestering you about what you like — for what reason, you have no idea. But you are flattered, somehow, and you entertain him. You don’t push it though, you don’t ask him what you’ve always been asking in your mind. It’s a touchy subject, and he’s surely aware of your curiosity, but even so you don’t say a thing.

It is the least you can do — to see Dazai for who he is, instead of what he’s done. Surely he’s gotten bored of that already.

And that is why Dazai stays with you for the rest of the day. You are vastly different than the others, and he hasn’t figured out why, but he figures it’s at least worth it to try.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

A photograph can capture powerful things, but there’s something it can never picture.

Click.

Dazai Osamu looks beautiful in picture, but the things he makes you feel — that’s the real treasure you hold dear, the thing that a photo can never capture. No, he isn’t your boyfriend — could you even call him your friend? You know next to nothing personal about him. Yet.

There are days when he’d sit next to you in lectures, much to the surprise of everyone else. Your friends knew to leave you two be — Dazai isn’t awfully friendly with anyone else. In fact, he rarely even spoke to anyone apart from you. It isn’t nearly as special as everyone makes it out to be though, they don’t know that your conversations mainly centre around the unimportant small talks. It isn’t anything lovey-dovey — and why did your heart sink a little thinking of that?

Other days you barely speak; just two acquaintances passing by each other in the hallways in exchanged silence. Those days you find yourself wanting to reach out — but there’s an unspoken fear that stops you.

“Hey, quit dreaming, my belladonna,” Dazai hums, smirking once he sees he’s caught your attention.

“Who’re you calling yours?” you snap back, positioning your right eye behind the camera lens and another ‘click!’ sounds in the empty classroom.

As you continue taking photographs of your muse, you can’t help but notice the way the bandages are wrapped around his arms more sloppily today than they were usually. You swallow the lump in your throat as the lens zoom in on his wrist, a seemingly fresh scar visible between the gaps in the bandages. You shift the focus onto his neck this time, and you see another scar there. You try not to make it too obvious that you are hovering the focus on them, but he knows anyway. Dazai always knows.

Click.

And then you have a realisation. As you straighten your posture and look up at him properly, your heart leaps when you catch that smile on his face. It isn’t a normal typical, happy smile. It’s much sadder, much... hollower than that. It’s nothing sinister, just helpless in a way. You’ve seen sad smiles before, but none quite as meaningful as his.

“You wanted me to see?” you ask, despite every muscle in your mouth begging you not to.

Neither you nor Dazai liked to get attached to anyone, but you’re about to make the both of you cross that line. Dazai knows that. And he lets you continue anyway. In fact, he dares you.

“Ask me.”

Do you dare?

“Why—” you bite your tongue, but then you peer at his inviting eyes, and feel a little more encouraged. “Why did you do it?”

“Do what?” His voice isn’t teasing, he isn’t trying to toy with you. Dazai knows there is a lot you wish to know about him, and he’s curious to know what’s been hanging on your mind the most.

It’s the same as everyone else’s answer, although when it comes from you, Dazai is most likely to see through how genuine it is. You don’t ask from mere nosiness. You care. And so he tells you while you continue to photograph him — everything that built up to that moment he used a razor to draw a deep vertical gash up his forearm, everything that contributed to that decision, that cry of defeat.

You try not to cry from just hearing his story, you didn’t want him to feel that you pitied him. Although maybe a part of you did, after all, why else would you crying then? But Dazai sees the way your fingers tremble, the camera following with.

“I can stop,” he offers. But you instantly shake your head. You want to hear about him, you want him to be able to tell his story to at least someone, even if it’s someone like you — someone who can barely do a thing.

But you can’t be more wrong, and you don’t realise it yet. Because you’re the first person he chooses to let in, and is reciprocating well, accepting him for who he is — someone beyond the scars, although they seem to be the main focus of your project. But he smiles as he sees you write up the title for it at the end of the day.

The things that make you beautiful.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

They say it’s possible to miss a moment while you’re still living it — that it’s bittersweet. And they were right. That’s how you felt after that day, in the empty classroom with him, about your entire senior year.

“When the school year ends I’m going abroad, there are some things I need to deal with.”

His words echo in your mind on a loop. Dazai didn’t have to explain anything further, you understood perfectly. The gentle tone of suppressed sadness you can never forget. He’s trying not to sound it, but you can still tell that whatever’s hurt him still does. That, though, he doesn’t hide from you.

The final school year goes without a hitch — your grades are up, a considerable thanks to Dazai for teaching you nearly everything. He’s highly intelligent for someone who looks like they put nearly no effort into school. He knows even about subjects that he doesn’t take.

Dazai is probably the only reason why your senior year goes better than you expected it to. Your photography project ended up beautiful. There isn’t a thing about Dazai in your pictures that is out of place. The lighting, the shot, the composition — you were satisfied with it all. But you never turned it in. You chose to hand in another less significant project.

Some things you just have to keep them close in your heart; some things are better kept private, intimate.

Some moments make you feel like time is at a standstill — for you, they‘re usually the ones that you treasure most. Like the way his arms casually brush against yours as the two of you walk out of school together, the way he puts his arm around your shoulders when you bug him for a picture together, or even the way he accidentally falls asleep on your shoulder on the bus ride home. It’s these small things that tug on your heartstrings.

But time waits for no one. And graduation day came faster than you expected. Dazai is missing that day, and you find yourself anxious. Did he do something to himself? Or did something happen to him along the way? You find out he never opted to participate in the ceremony at all though, through your friends no less. Why didn’t he tell you?

You can’t manage to stop fidgeting as you wait in line to receive your degree on stage. It’s obvious to everyone but you — and then you get a text.

Stop being so nervous, belladonna, you look gorgeous today.

You try to look around for him in the crowd, but everyone looks like minuscule dots on a canvas; you can’t see clearly.

I’ll meet you after it ends, I’m so proud of you.

And he does. He walks towards you with a bouquet of flowers in his hand, but you just charge toward him and throw your arms around him, with Dazai twirling you on the spot once you do. You feel like you can’t be any happier until your eyes catch the suitcase he’s trudged along beside him.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

It takes absence to value presence.

That’s how you’ll feel after he enters through those doors to the departure area, you’re sure of it. That’s why you’re sheepishly holding on to his sleeve like a child. A silent question you pose to him: do you really have to go?

And the answer lay in his apologetic smile.

“I planned on leaving while you were at the graduation ceremony, but I pushed my flight back.”

You furrow your brows as you meet his gaze. It takes you back to the first time he laid eyes on you from across the lecture hall.

“Why?”

“I wanted to see my beautiful belladonna graduate,” Dazai replies coolly, tousling your hair gently. But you both know there’s more to it than that. There’s one other thing, one other reason he wanted to leave while you were occupied: Dazai Osamu is horrible at goodbyes. It’s why he tried to kill himself only when his roommates weren’t home too. And yet he’s willing to try for you.

This is one moment you wish would last forever. You didn’t want to have to say goodbye. Is this farewell? Would you ever see him again? You didn’t even dare to ask, you’re too afraid of the answer.

But you find the answer as he turns to head for the gate. The way he lightly presses a kiss on the top of your head, the way his heart pounds erratically against your chest as he hugs you goodbye, the way he doesn’t tell you a sayonara, and in the way only Dazai knows how.

There are many things that are left unspoken between you and Dazai. And as you wave goodbye and watch him disappear in the crowd, you have the utmost confidence that one day the fog will clear and everything will fall into place, that your one day of clarity will come.

And that one day you will meet Dazai Osamu once again.

tags: @yokelish @gogolparadise @fyowyn-writes

[bandaged-writer]

Hi! Can I request some falling in love headcanons for Dazai and Mori (seperately) with a fem reader? What would take for them to love someone? How will they react when they realise that they do? Thank you!

I hope you’ll enjoy it! <3

Warnings: mentions of suicide, because it’s Dazai

Dazai Osamu

➤ Dazai said it himself that he likes all women, therefore he doesn’t exactly have a type when it comes to appearance. What’s more important to him are your intentions, the way you think, what makes you tick – everything that makes up the constellation of your mind.

➤ Someone who’s genuinely kind would probably draw his attention the most, similar to Oda and Atsushi who Dazai also feels drawn to. Kindness is easy to read and has no ulterior motive other than making people feel appreciated or to spread some positivity in such a negative world. It’s so interesting for him, because Dazai was probably raised by Mori for the majority of his life and was taught to always find some kind of profit or gain something from the person opposite of him. But you? You don‘t want anything but a simple thank you, although these words are of no use to anyone.

➤ Please, care about him and for him. Dazai has probably never received the care a normal child or teenager usually experiences and even as an adult, everyone is so used to Dazai being reckless that no one actually cares if he disappears, drowining in the river, etc. It’s easy to catch him off-guard when you scold him for another suicide attempt and tell him that he does mean something to you, ask if he’s recently changed his bandages or just bring him something from the Uzumaki coffee shop below the Agency. Dazai will definitely appreciate it, although he doesn’t understand why exactly you react so differently compared to everyone else.

➤ Talking of not understanding other people: You don’t have to understand his train of thought or his plans for missions, he doesn’t expect you to. But you have to put your entire trust in Dazai even if his strategy sounds like pure suicide.

➤ Realizes he’s falling for you when he stops asking you for a lovers‘ suicide. Yes, Dazai is still hung up on the idea of committing a pure, cheerful and energetic suicide that doesn’t bother anyone and preferably with a pretty lady by his side. But you’ve told him about your hopes, dreams, past and said all these factors with such pure trust that Dazai can’t find it in him to let you die. He’s responsible for a lot of crimes and tragedies, but he doesn’t think he could stand the responsibilty of having taken away everything you are. And so, his request stops. Towards any woman, for that matter. Why should he flirt with anyone when his heart was already drawn to someone else?

➤ Dazai doesn’t say anything about his feelings right away, though. He analyzes if you perhaps feel the same way about him by watching you a bit more intently, learning your body language and sees if your gaze towards him is any different, if your touch lingers longer than before, if you blush around him or whenever his name is dropped in a conversation.

➤ Possibility of falling into denial. He used to be a mafia executive, is a man with the blood of many on his hands and committed countless of crimes in the past. Not only that, but Odasaku did tell Dazai that there was nothing which could fill that lonely hole in his heart, so why should you be able to change that? Could you change it at all? Odasaku was an incredibly perceptive man who was the first person to understand Dazai, so why should Oda be wrong about his last words? Dazai denies himself of the possibilty of letting you into his life.

➤ Whines Kunikida’s ear off of wanting to date you, but giving ridiculous reasons why he can’t bring himself to do it. “If you complain about wanting to court [Name] one more time, I’ll sew that mouth of yours shut so you’ll never get to do it at all.“

➤ “Kunikida, I can still write it.“

➤ If he falls into denial, you need to confront him about it and do not let Dazai joke it off. You noticed that something about Dazai was off when he stopped his flirting attempts or quit shoving his reports to someone else and did them himself though slowly and with still some dramatic whining. When you don’t let him off the hook, Dazai will eventually spill the beans.

➤ “Spit it out, what’s wrong with you? I promise I won’t tell anyone.“

➤ “You, my belladonna, are giving me such an incredibly hard time by making me want to take you out on a lovely date, but what kind of mere man could dare to court a beauty of your caliber?!“

➤ Despite Dazai’s theatrical act, you know it’s his way of being somewhat vulnerable and confess your feelings as well. It’s at that moment when Dazai drops the dramatic facade and properly asks you out with a soft smile on his face, seeing the chance of the lonely hole in his heart slowly being filled.

Mori Ougai

➤ Is definitely attracted to someone who has her own head, knows what she wants and carry through with her words. Mori has no interest in someone who he can use like a doll whenever he wants, but wants someone who can think and dares to talk back to him, make suggestions on how to run the mafia and bring good arguments on why certain things should be changed, why supplier xy could harm the mafia, etc.

➤ Mori quickly takes a liking to someone with rational thinking, but also questions it, searches for several solutions to a problem and choose the one with the least casualties and the most profit. It takes some self-reflection and courage to disregard your usual way of thinking and admit that maybe the solution you don’t like is the most optimal one. It shows that you’re capable of putting your own ego or even desires aside for the sake of something bigger.

➤ You have to be loyal to the bone. No questions asked.

➤ Grows a soft spot for you when you play with Elise and she actually gets along with you. Mori is an absolute sucker for Elise laughing and being happy, so whenever the girl laughs because of you while drawing or playing some game while he’s busy with paperwork, Mori admits that you must be an interesting person. After all, Elise doesn’t pay everyone much mind or ignores their presence. However, Elise seems to really enjoy your presence.

➤ Falling for someone is something curious. Feelings develop before one can notice they grew, and so Mori sees you in his office more often and finds your presence to be surprisingly pleasant. Instead of talking about the mafia’s business, the conversation becomes more personal and you let him in on your private life, not thinking too much of it.

➤ Conversations vary between the two of you. It can be something as trivial as Mori complaining about his coffee tasting funny to more philosophical questions such as why people are born without their consent, why death is important, why people are so humane although the brain is built like a computer filled with data. It keeps Mori’s brain going and he likes the change of pace of not having to talk in a business way all the time.

➤ Mori’s out shopping with Elise and finds himself stopping at a sun dress for women, not girls. It catches Elise’s attention and she immediately knows what’s up. She personally witnesses how much time Mori spends with you and how he stopped using you as a mere pawn for his chess games. “Are you seriously thinking about another woman while I’m here?!“

➤ “Elise, it’s not like that, I swear!“ Mori tries to defend himself, but she caught him redhanded.

➤ He has never seen you wearing a dress, so Mori is curious to find out how the article of clothing would suit you and the more he dwells on the thought, the more he realizes he’s falling for you. Usually, only Elise was on his mind during their shopping trips, but now someone else interfers with that routine and he doesn’t mind it too much. Mori does feel sorry for Elise though. He had planned on buying her so much, yet here he was, thinking about getting you something as well.

➤ Unlike Dazai, Mori doesn’t himself of a relationship, although he knows it could tarnish your image at the mafia. He’s well aware of women being accused of sleeping their way up tot he top, although they have to work twice as hard as men to get the position they aim for. Naturally, he doesn’t want it to happen to you. How dare someone speak such vulgar assumptions about his [Name]?

➤ “By the way, I got you a dress when I was shopping with Elise.“

➤ “You WHAT?!“

➤ You still try the dress on and Mori finds himself wanting to buy you more, wanting to spoil you like Elise and wanting to see the rare blush on your cheeks. But that sight was only for his sight to see!

➤ “You should wear that dress for our date.“

➤ “This would sound more convincing if you didn’t say it with such a straight face, but I’m definitely not refusing.“

[shoyouth]

So I live live live for domestic hcs. Could you do the Ikevamp boys who have kids with Mc and how’d they’d be as a father? Keep up the good work!!

this is the cutest thing!! Thank you for the request and I loved writing this so much :(

napoleon ; He treats the children very similarly to the kids he teaches with Issac; he thinks it’s very important to instill morals and discipline into them—he was an emperor after all, he wants his children to be good, self-assured people. But Napoleon is still very teasing and playful, the kind to mess up his children’s hair and confuse his children into thinking he’s scolding them when he’s really just joking. Overall a very good dad, very good at balancing care, play, and discipline.

arthur ; Okay It’s kind of canon that he’s good with kids from his route, but he loves playing with your kids. Still gets kind of emotional that it’s your guy’s kids and your children will always be confused why he gets tears in his eyes. Will 100% stop writing whenever his kids want his attention and it may even lead to some discipline issues in the future. Also I am writing it into canon that he loves to read books to your children at night, ESP Sherlock Holmes because they asked about his writing and it made his heart swell in his chest.

mozart ; He tries to keep up a professional persona even around his kids in an attempt to raise them properly, but when in private (or around the closer mansion residents) he’ll allow himself to indulge in petting their head, briefly playing their games, talking to them in a gentle tone. I think he would adore teaching his children how to play an instrument, and I think you would urge your child to as well because it would allow them to get closer in a way mozart is very comfortable and touched.

leonardo ; Gosh, one of the best dads there could be!! Esp when your children are young, you will search the whole mansion only to find them napping together. Will naturally begin to teach his children different skills: painting, tinkering, astronomy, anatomy—his children will follow in his footsteps of being a jack of all trades. He will treat all of their drawings as masterpieces, and he will pin their art to the wall because he’s so proud. He’d had family pictures everywhere and he’s just such a family man; he’s so happy to simply spend a life with you, to live a little, and so he cherishes you all with his very soul.

vincent ; Such a loving father!!! Will legit be unable to discipline your children, quite frankly, so that will have to be your job, but his personality will probably rub off on them and they’ll sometimes be perfect little angels. He will always give them hugs and kisses and reassuring words, and he will make sure they know to treat others kindly and that emotions/crying isn’t weak. Will end up raising his children right without even meaning to because he just cares about them so much. His children will be very very close to him and he makes sure they know they’re always welcome, no matter how old they get.

theo ; An amazing father, it’s just a feeling. Maybe it’s because he always made jokes about treating you like a dog, but children do need training, oddly similarly to dogs. Therefore his discipline is godly; he’s not very harsh, but he is firm. He is such a sucker for your children and everything in him is telling him to give in, but he’s strong and he knows how to balance when to give in and when to be strict. Does not let your kid be a brat/throw tantrums, or he will put them in time out. If they are good though, he makes sure they know he’s proud and he will treat them to ice cream and cuddles in private. Just such a great father I can’t explain it.

issac ; He hasn’t had a family before nor any indication of how to take care of a child, but he tries. He does want to be a good dad, one his child will respect and love, but he isn’t a natural like Napoleon or Leonardo. He will work hard to be a good dad, but he would love to teach his child math and science if they show interest. He will ramble and grow excited to teach, all awkwardness and shyness out the window as your child becomes his partner; he’d set up the telescope for your child to look through or set up diagrams to show. He will love being a dad once he feels ready.

dazai ; Will teach your child how to be a good troublemaker and how to get out of trouble, I am so sorry. And though he may seem too unorthodox to raise a child, he actually would make a good parent. He will never act serious so no one knows his true motives, but his reasons are that if he lets your child have the freedom to do what they choose, they’ll develop their own morals and learn their own limits, therefore making them responsible on their own. Doesn’t like to restrict your child though he wants them to be safe, but he wants his child to have a good childhood. His children will come to him for advice in the future, and he’ll end up being friends with his children as well.

jean ; He was relatively young when he died the first time, so I think he would be quite stiff with a child at first. It still hasn’t sunk out that he has a kid, one that will look up to him and he’ll care for. I think he’d feel guilty being a vampire, thinking he can’t be a good father as one. Once you got it through his head that he can, Jean would be good at it. Similar to Napoleon, he will want to train his child into being noble and he will care in his own way, though back pats may be a tad awkward until he gets used to showing affection.

comte ; Spoiled. All your children will be downright spoiled. No expense is too much for him, from a beautiful music box to a pony. But he also teaches responsibility. We know comte has some hidden-scary-anger, so I believe he could be quite stern when necessary, and if his children begin to act like brats, he puts them right in their place and tells them that even though he can buy them things, it’s up to them to keep it in working condition/treat it well/not have it taken away. He makes for a good father.

sebastian ; Quite a strict father because he does have to keep up the image of a good butler, but all of the residents consistently tell him to take it easy because they’re happy for him. Will work even harder to finish quick to be with you and your child, but he is touched by the residents’ words and he will sometimes relent and let his child follow him around the mansion while he does chores. Legit one of the happiest to have a child, and would quite literally do anything for your child; he is so soft for them.

shakespeare ; This man...is so conflicted. He is so happy to have a child with you, to see them so happy—but he cannot wrap his head around the fact that he can be happy with your child, that he could be any good influence in their life. He wants to be able to lift them up, to gush to the child how much he loves him and tickle their sides, but something in him still tells him to keep his distance, to watch them grow from afar. It hurts you for sure to watch your lover think he is incapable of being a good father, but sometimes while the child is sleeping he’ll run his hands through their hair, and he will cry if the child approaches him first for anything.

[yanderepuck]

Okay so like I was thinking and how do you think the boys would react to the mysteries surrounding Vincent? Would he explain them?? Why did he really cut his ear off and how tf did he die?

OKAY.  SO I NEVER STOP TALKING ABOUT THIS.  I MADE A POST ABOUT IT 

SO BEFORE I GET INTO THIS

TW!!!!!! DEPRESSION AND SUICIDE!!!!!!

I’M GOING TO REPEAT QUITE A FEW THINGS FROM THE POST I LINKED BUT I’M ALSO GONNA GO MORE INTO DETAIL

First off, I want to say becoming a vampire probably stopped the attacks he had, no one really know what he had, but they called them attacks.  Yeah he’s a happy pure ray of sunshine, but he’s actually bipolar(manic-depressive) and still has schizophrenia.  However it isn’t as bad as it use to be.  However the only ones who are aware of this are Theo, Comte, and Sebas obviously.  Leonardo might know something is up with Vinc, but doesn’t know details, but he won’t pray unless if something happens. I imagine Will knows something is up with Vinc as well since they spend a lot of time alone together.

He pushed himself really hard and is really hard on himself, which is a reason why Theo is always working so hard to get his work displayed and noticed.  In his first life Vincent never got to see his work on display as far as i am aware of, so Theo tries to do that now because he knows how hard Vincent is on himself and wants him to know that people love his art and tries telling him how beautiful it is, not only because he is his brother, but because he has talent.

Theo is always very worried about his big brother.  He tires himself out everyday until he can barely stay awake.  This is because Vincent figured out that if he keeps himself busy, he won’t fall into a manic depression.  Just having a little bit of a break could lead to his mind wandering and going down some deep hole and triggering a depressive episode.  And just because he’s a vampire, doesn’t mean he can’t hurt himself.

Theo, Comte, Sebas, and maybe Leonardo are the only ones who actually know how he died (Dazai might know from his first life, that depends on wither or not he knows of him).  They are also aware of him being in a hospital multiple times for suicide attempts.  It’s not like they would ever talk about it, but it is in the back of their head in case if he ever does get into a manic depressive state, or if he even starts to have hallucinations again.

Now how does this tie in with Ikevamp lore???  Well Vinc was meant to be this perfect child, and was told that the first baby died, gave him the same name and had huge expectations, plus he’s the eldest, so there’s already high expectations there, now you add on to how horrid his parents were.  Yeah he came off as this smart intelligent kid, who just always seemed to be happy, but deep down he was depressed as all hell.  He would questions wither or not he’s good enough, what does he keep doing wrong, why don’t his parents love him.  All of that.  And yes he suppressed all of those negative emotions so that he believes that he doesn’t feel them, but that’s because when he comes out of a depressive episode, he doesn’t even remember it happening.  He can’t remember the last week or month, or even months where he was depressed and did nothing but lay in his room.

When this does happen, Vincent won’t even talk to Theo.  He covers his giant window so that his room is dark and will basically only lay on his couch.  Theo will try to get Vincent out of it but Vincent will put no effort into trying to dig himself out of that hole.  But no matter how long it lasts Theo will check up on him everyday to make sure he hasn’t done anything to hurt himself.  Theo and Sebastian might even go to the point of taking his paints out of his room while he’s asleep so that he doesn’t try eating it again to poison himself.  It is hard to even get him to eat, maybe once a day.

Vincent will be curled up on his couch, and Theo will come in and sit on the floor in front of him and try to talk to him, maybe lean his head on his back and he just prays that Vincent will say something back to him.  Sometimes it takes Theo everything he has not to loose it, something he just wants to yell and ask why he’s doing this, why won’t he talk to him, and things like that, but he knows it won’t help.  It’ll only make Vincent push Theo away more during this time.

He would still draw during this time.  He’d grab a sketch book and maybe charcoal or just a pencil and make these horrific drawings, it’s like those nightmare drawings people will make when their emotions are super strong, idk how else to describe it.  He might even draw things the hallucinations would say to him, or show him.  When he’s in this depressive episode, the hallucinations will start again.  Even when he isn’t in a depressive state he will get night terrors that will wake him up in a cold sweat in the middle of the night

He could go years without one of these episodes, so when it does happen it hits hard.  The other residents will point out that they haven’t see Vincent for a few days, maybe even a week by this point, but Theo will laugh it off and tell them that with the painting he is working on, he’s so invested into it that he can’t step away.  When he finally snaps out of it, he’s in the manic phase and full of energy, these few days after the depression is what causes him for forget everything that just happened.  It can take a month of a manic episode before things go back to normal.  Even if the residents ask Comte about it, Comte says that he doesn’t know anything about it, even though him and Theo are trying to figure out a way to get him out of it.

I stated earlier that Will probably knows that something is up with Vinc.  So when Will doesn’t hear or see him for a month or more he starts to get worried.  He loves inviting Vincent over and seeing his paintings and inviting him to his plays.  One time the depressive episode lasted nearly a whole year, and that’s when others started to question what was going on.  Will had sent letters to the mansion and never got a reply, Vincent never stopped by, and that isn’t like him, not at all.  So Will decides to stop by, at this point Vinc hasn’t been seen for nearly three months.  Of course Theo doesn’t want to tell Will what is going on and tell him that Vinc is fine and tries to close the door on him, but nope.  Will puts his foot in the door and tells Theo that he isn’t leaving until he sees Vincent.

It is also around this time that everyone else is wondering why they haven’t seen him.  They will see Brush roaming the halls, but they can’t recall the last time they saw Vincent taking his paints and canvas outside to paint.  Arthur would be the first to question, and he’d go directly to Theo.  Of course Theo won’t actually tell him what is going on.  It isn’t until Will shows up demanding to see Vincent that he knows for sure that it is something serious.

I imagine Will going to Vinc’s room, with Theo following him, trying to stop him.  But when Will goes to open Vinc’s door, it’s locked.  Which then Theo starts to internally freak out.  He didn’t check on Vincent this morning because he had something things he had to handle and then the time flew by.  Will is knocking on the door calling Vincent’s name but there’s no reply.  Soon Theo is externally freaking out.  He never locks his door, so he can only think of something horrible happening.

*DEEP BREATH*

Vinc tried killing himself but I won’t make you read that unless if you really want me to, cause I lowkey really want to write it

[our-wargame]

a train rolls down the east coast

Rating: T Tags: AU Canon Divergence, AU Soulmates, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Dark Era, I said I was going to fill the odazai tag and I aM GOing TO, Light Angst Word Count: 850 Status: Complete AO3

Summary:

The idea of someone, somewhere, complementing him, isn't just laughable. It's downright amusing. Dazai hopes to meet his soulmate soon.

Dazai's words are written on the inside of his right wrist, and so they're just hidden under the bandages winding up his arms. He rarely gives the soulmark itself any thought. Replacing old bandages with new does not require him consider the neatly printed words. Checking his pulse with a hard press of his thumb is not accompanied by thinking about soft lettering, soft like it was written by a gentle hand.

But. The idea is something else altogether. The idea that someone, somewhere, complements him, isn't just laughable. It's down right amusing. He hopes to meet his soulmate soon.

Some days, he catches himself scratching unconsciously at the mark. As if it could itch. And on other days, remembering it at all draws his lips to pull into a grin.

Ozaki glances at him. The car ride's smooth and quiet. The chauffeur avoids looking into the mirror and accidently meeting either of their gazes. Ozaki leans her head back against the headrest. "What is it?"

"Nothing," he hums. "Actually. Ane-san, what do yours say?"

"My-" She breaks off. Raises a brow at him. "My words?"

He grins still.

She sighs at him. Says, "'Nice to meet you, Ozaki- I'm charmed.'"

Dazai whistles. Smooth. He doesn't ask if she's met them. He likes Ane-san too much to get too personal. Still, he's a little curious. The soulmark usually isn't your soulmate's first words to you; they're just words your soulmate will say to you.

"What about yours?" She asks.

"Mine?" He smirks. "My soulmate says, 'You're an interesting one.'" A laugh bubbles out of him before he can stop it. "Who the hell talks like that?"

"You don't seem to mind."

He grins still. "What, my soulmate being a huge weirdo?" Ha. It'd be nice for things to be...livelier. "I hope they'll entertain me for ages!"

She rolls her eyes and exits the car gracefully when they get to the mission point. Dazai follows her out and immediately starts looking for crimson red, signifying somebody's motorcycle. He's going to rig the kickstand so the entire thing collapses. With any luck, it'll crush Chuuya to death.

That's the end of the conversation.

But. A month from then, he starts to develop the terrifying idea that he's met his soulmate, that he knows who it is. Accompanying this thought is a dull sense of surprise that they exist at all- it was easier to scorn and scoff when the figure was theoretical, was wisps of abstraction- when there was still a chance there was a mistake.

Because there can't be someone for him. It's just not- he doesn't- there just can't be.

A month into knowing Odasaku, he starts wondering if he could be wrong. Has to ask if he is, or just wishes he were.

"...wouldn't it be beautiful, Odasaku?"

And then Odasaku is looking at him. Odasaku is taking in his grin, taking in Dazai, taking Dazai in all his ridiculousness. Here and now in their little bar, everything seems so cozy, so lovely. Dazai grins on.

A tiny sigh, so much more affectionate than exasperated. A reply that's hardly an answer to the question:

"You're an interesting one."

Dazai's blood turns to ice. Then back to blood, scalding, boiling just underneath the surface of his skin, rushing through his arms, his neck, his ears, his cheeks- his fingers curl, draw into closed fists. Odasaku's gaze is so very warm.

Dazai thinks his face might be on fire. His wrist burns a little. He refuses to spare it a glance, refuses to leave Odasaku's expression. "You're..." Dazai swallows. "You're far more interesting than me, Odasaku."

Odasaku smiles a little. Dazai breathes.

"I've suspected it for a while." Odasaku admits.

Dazai tilts his head. Resting on the bar counter, Odasaku's left arm now slides a little closer. The back of his knuckles push his glass a little further from the edge. His opposite hand comes, catches on the edge of the sleeve and pulls back. The bar lighting might be dim but Odasaku and the soulmark are close enough to be seen. There, staring back at Dazai, are the words. You're far more interesting than me, Odasaku.

Of course. The nickname is what gives Dazai away. He briefly wonders how long Odasaku has really 'suspected' it but he supposes it doesn't matter, not really in the face of the rest of the information that has him reeling. Dazed. Uncertain.

"So. We're...we're soulmates." His voice sounds strained to his own ears.

Odasaku gives him a tiny nod. He's not smiling anymore, but he's not frowning either. He's just watching Dazai.

A part of Dazai thinks Odasaku thought he already knew (and maybe Dazai should have, should have known and shouldn't have pretended he didn't- as if it'd change anything)

"Is," Odasaku pauses. "Is that okay?"

It's an accident but Dazai laughs a little.

They don't get choices, they don't get to make decisions concerning themselves. But Odasaku is here, trying to give Dazai some semblance of freedom anyways. Odasaku is sincere. Odasaku is earnest. Odasaku is too kind.

This isn't amusing anymore. Dazai is terrified.

------

Author’s Note: the real reason odasaku doesn't bring up the fact they're soulmates is that he wanted to give dazai the chance to pretend they weren't, if that's what dazai wanted. he just wants dazai to be happy. on the other hand, i left interpretation for dazai a little more open, but it's really mostly self-deprecating "i can't give odasaku what he deserves". the rest of it is basically: odasaku already means so much to him. but what if he can't protect odasaku. if he can have a soulmate, then anything can happen. (tldr: shit just got real)

[xxxsoukokuxxx]

Painful memories

Characters: Ango Sakaguchi; Dazai Osamu; mentions of Odasaku in memories and such

Warnings: quite angsty, Dazai’s typical mentions of suicide

Notes: I got this idea from a post that @panisestgladio made, thank you. I’m working on requests, but I just wanted to get this out because it has been lingering in my head for a while now. Let’s get on with the fic.

____________________

Calming wind blows through Yokohama. A man dressed like a scholar with rounded glasses stood on a short staircase. He looked on in the distance being entranced by the sea. It seemed to sparkle like little diamonds. Green grass, green trees and green moss here and there. Grey tombstones contrasted the amount of green.

The man with the rounded glasses, named Ango Sakaguchi, adjusted them and started walking down the pebble colored stairs. He walks through a little forest of tombstones with different names on each of them. Names of people who have now joined the peacefulness of death.

He stops at one that reads “Oda Sakunoske” and stares at it for a minute in meaningful silence. He sighs and sits down on the soft grass with his knees in level with his chest. “It’s been a while hasn’t it? Odasaku.” he says into the vacant air as if he’s going to get a reply. But he knows he isn’t. 

“We had quite a lot of cases to document and file today, it surely was tiring.” he says with a voice full of exhaustion. He leans back on his hands and tilts his head up to look at the cerulean blue sky. A few clouds here and there. “...I know I’ve wronged you...but...I apologize for that. I know it’s unforgivable but I do wish to stay friends...even in death.”

“Do you use that bag to travel?” asks Odasaku, pointing to Ango’s briefcase.

“Yes, but it’s not for anything special. Cigarettes, an umbrella, and a few tools for self defense.” Ango opens his briefcase for Odasaku to see. “There’s also a camera for work.” 

“That’s it, let’s take a picture!” Dazai bursts out suddenly, “As a commemoration!”

"Commemorate what?” Odasaku asks

“To commemorate the three of us gathering here today? Or Ango’s return from his travels, successfully handling that bomb threat, whatever reason’s fine!”

“Yes, executive, sir.” Ango shrugs his shoulders, drawing out the black camera from his briefcase. It’s a vintage film camera. It’s already very old - the black paint is starting to peel at several parts.

“Take a handsome one.”

Ango laughs bitterly as he takes a photo of Dazai and Odasaku sitting beside one another. He takes another one of Odasaku himself. Odasaku then takes a perfect photo of Dazai placing his feet on the bar stools leaning back.

“Dazai, why the sudden urge to take photos?” asks Ango

“I don’t know. I just feel like if we don’t take a picture now, there won’t be another chance for us to leave behind evidence that we used to come here together,” Dazai smiles.

The last picture taken out was of all three of them sitting beside each other on the bar stools.

He’s brought back to reality by a sudden gush of wind. Ango blinks and stands up shakily from his daze, remembering the memories created at Bar Lupin. The place where the trio used to go drinking. He sighs again heavily, “Goodbye for now...Odasaku.” he says softly and takes his leave. “Dazai’s words...were like a prophecy.” he mutters underneath his breath.

_____________________

Ango occasionally visited Oda’s grave, sometimes out of guilt, sometimes out of loneliness. Each time he visited the cemetery a painful memory never failed to grace his tired mind. 

Sometimes he might have a little picnic with Odasaku or rather his grave. But the guilt never left him. 

___________________

It was dusk and the sea seemed to be swallowing the fallen sun. Lonely footsteps made their way through Yokohama cemetery. Ango was slouching a little as he got to Odasaku’s grave. Once there he sighed and sat down against the grey tombstone. His head plays melancholic tunes from the bar that the trio used to frequently visit.

“Hey Ango. Didn’t think you’d be here tonight.” says a daunting but somewhat cheery voice. Ango jolts forward in shock. He turns around to find a familiar brunette. He was so tired that day that he failed to notice that there was someone else visiting Odasaku’s grave. Someone who was apart of the trio.

“Dazai...I didn’t expect that you’d be here either this evening.” says Ango trying to keep a steady voice. “Yeah well I ran out of suicide methods to try for now, so I decided, why not visit an old friend of mine?”

Ango stiffens up a bit. “I’m not surprised that you’d be here though. After all, we were friends right?” says Dazai in a low voice. “Dazai...” “You didn’t think I’d forget did you?” 

“...I understand what I did was not right but in the end I was only doing my job.” Ango says sternly. “And that job was killing your...friend?” Dazai mocks him. Ango lowers his head and stares at the ground. Him and Dazai sit facing opposite ways with their backs to each other. “I know it’s useless trying to stay friends with you...but at least I can still have that with Odasaku...somewhat.” Ango whispers.

Dazai sighs heavily and gets up shoving his hands into his pockets. Ango looks up at him. “Yes, you’re right. At least he’s forgiving enough to forgive the person who lead him to his own demise.” Dazai deadpanned.

Ango doesn’t say anything. He can’t say anything. No matter how harsh it sounds...he knows it true. The truth hurts doesn’t it? He just watches Dazai stride nonchalantly out of the cemetery.

He recovers a little from what happened and takes out the photograph of all three of them at Bar Lupin from his pocket. It was gone old now but still kept in good condition. He narrows his eyes. The melancholic atmosphere drowns him.

If only he could turn back time and didn’t even meet them at all. Perhaps then it wouldn’t have hurt so much.

[ranposlittle]

hi, can i have a matchup? :0 i’m pan and nb (they/them), 5’5, and i’m black with light pink dyed hair and dark brown eyes. i looove to cosplay, draw, sing and dance, and idols like in love live are my biggest inspiration and biggest dream! i work hard at what i care about, and i’m also super goofy! i’ve never cussed (but don’t mind it!), get flustered super easily and can’t flirt well, but i’m still a hopeless romantic! my mbti type is enfp! thank you so much! 💕💕

❴🐰❵┊ I ship you with ➸ . . .

────── 「 𝙾𝚜𝚊𝚖𝚞 · 𝙳𝚊𝚣𝚊𝚒 」 ──────

You're not even in a bar or any place where flirting usually takes place but still, here you are — in the middle of a cosplay convention — getting shamelessly hit on by a beautiful stranger. He doesn't seem intoxicated nor under the influence of any drugs. As a matter of fact, as the richness of your brown eyes gaze at his own, his eyes are clear and even... glimmering. You took notice of everyone's eyes being on you as the stranger (who later introduced himself as Dazai) kneels on one knee, hand in yours like an old school Romeo, and your face immediately heated up beyond the boiling point. You stuttered at your words but eventually was able to agree on his proposed date before a tall blond man dragged your strange suitor away, leaving you to stand in the middle of the wreckage of the situation he caused. The whole ordeal felt like a dream to you, except for the crumpled paper in your hand with the man's name and number jotted down.

Despite numerous days have already passed since the fateful day, it still never fail to make you extremely flustered whenever you're reminded of it: whether it be by the teasing of your friends who witnessed the whole thing take place or the times you look at the piece of paper and contemplate whether to call him or not. But a long weekend approached fast, you were getting tired of staring at your ceiling and waiting for any of your friends' invitation to hang out. After the evening settled in with no such luck, the clumsy way the numbers are scribbled kept appearing in your mind.

You've always been drawn to embracing new ideas and approach things with curiosity because the free spirited ENFP is born to explore. You're in constant search of things that rings true to you and will unhesitatingly work hard for it. This is a chance for you to connect with another soul, you thought. It could be nothing but you also thought about the possibility of all of this having a deeper meaning. You took a deep breath. Gathering your unshakable conviction, you started dialing the number and press the call button before you could even talk yourself out of it. The voice of your doubts became louder and louder with each ring that goes unanswered. He picked up on the fifth ring, and without any prior questions about you, the first words out of his mouth was: “I was waiting for you. You certainly took your sweet time, beautiful.”

He was a big flirt, that you have confirmed after going on just a few dates with him. So he's always successful in making you a blushing mess whenever you are together; in public or in private. And if you attempt to flirt back (as good as you could at least), he'll just tease you even more until your words run dry. You guessed that making you flustered must be his love language.

Despite his antics though, Dazai does have deep feelings for you, it just came through time. Whenever he's with you, there's always a genuine smile on his face, and he just has a lot of fun. You're quite spontaneous and was even successful to pull a few surprises for him, which he greatly appreciates. His day is instantly better when you come to the Agency unannounced, a lunch in hand for the two of you to share. Sometimes, you'll just ask him to dress up because you already have tickets for that movie he once told you about. Dazai can see your commitment to him in small but significant things that you do; the way you never forget to greet him good morning no matter where you are, all the “I saw this and it reminded me of you” moments, even the way your thumb would brush against his whenever your hands are intertwined– he can feel your love all around him. He stopped saying his usual tag line about wanting to go in the afterlife with you a long time ago, because now, he's starting to see the world through your eyes, and it looks like a world that he actually wants to keep existing in.

Overall, I chose Dazai to be your match because I think your relationship will be filled with so much fun but at the same time, with so much love. Your relationship will not be boring and you'll be able to give each other the personal freedom you require. There will also be a lot of opportunities for you two to experiment and experience new things together (even in the bedroom, if you'd like). I also think that Dazai will see you as the cutest person he's ever been with. Aside from the fact that you've never cursed, your height difference is perfect for him. The fashionable color of your hair also adds to your charm. Even other people will find you to be such an adorable couple, freely goofing around with each other. You'll get a lot of compliments with Dazai because he can see how much you appreciate them. A hopeless romantic like you would have a good time with a flirt like Dazai. He will shower you with his affection, in words and in actions, and you'll do the same for him. No one will have a doubt on your love because even a blind would be able to know that you're just head over heels for each other. Because of that, rest assured that Dazai will be your number one fan. He'll be there in every cosplay event, every gig, with a camera in hand and shamelessly cheering you on. He would even often joke about how you should hire him as your own personal bodyguard once you're all famous. You would just laugh it off, but he really is serious about it. Dazai supports you with each one of your dreams and it would be his greatest pleasure to be by your side through it all.

▮ ❝ Hello there, glyxiebear~ Sorry to keep you waiting for so long, but here's your matchup! I hope you like it and please know that I'm also rooting for you! Don't stop working on your dreams and please don't forget me once you're a star (*,,˃ ᵕ ˂ )✰*｡ hehe I'm also an aspiring musician and I know how tough it is, but let's keep going and eventually we'll get there 💗 Take care! ❞

[patchwork-panda]

If A Moment Is All We Are (22/?)

AO3 link: here

“Hey, Kirako-san?”

I knocked quietly against the open doorway of the clerk room and poked my head into the room. Kirako was sitting by the window with her laptop open, clearly engrossed in shopping for a new collar for her cat, “Mii-chan,” and she jumped when I called her name a little louder.

“Kirako-san?”

“I’m working hard, I swear!” she shrieked, rapidly closing a bunch of windows all at once. “Don’t write me up!!”

“Relax, Kirako-san,” I laughed, “it’s just me. I’m not going to tell anyone what you were doing but if I were you...”

I looked around and lowered my voice to a whisper.

“I wouldn’t go with that fuchsia collar,” I said, grinning, “It’ll clash with the orange in Mii-chan’s fur.”

“You think?” Kirako groused as I nodded firmly.

She sighed.

“Still, I’m glad it’s just you, Kyou-chan,” she mumbled, putting her hand on her chest and leaning back in her chair. “Kunikida-san would have my head for sure if he caught me shopping during work hours. Do you need something from me?”

I nodded.

It had been almost a full day since the explosion at Yamazaki Shuji’s second apartment. As the firefighters continued to put out the flames, Kunikida and I went back to Katai’s place, retrieved a small handful of printouts and then immediately returned to the Agency. I decided to leave the black access card with Katai, in case he needed it for something else and Katai, for his part, agreed to call me back the minute he found something new, in exchange for nothing more than a simple grocery run.

“I don’t like to leave the house,” he’d mumbled quietly before burrowing back into his futon like a hibernating bear in a cave.

With Katai’s printouts to guide me, I spent the rest of yesterday afternoon trying to find anything else I could on the aliases “Tsushima Shuji” and “Yamazaki Shuji.” Unfortunately, I couldn’t find much beyond what Katai had already figured out. I ended up staying a full hour past the end of my shift, alternating between manically searching the internet and hitting my head against my desk in frustration until a very concerned Atsushi shook me and insisted I call it quits for the day.

But just when I thought I was going to be at a dead end, I remembered this morning that Kunikida and Dazai had been the ones to orchestrate Mrs. Yamazaki’s relocation. If they’d done it shortly after I’d first informed them of her upcoming murder, then they were sure to have documented their proceedings somewhere, as part of the paperwork they did when they finished a case—my case.

I’d run so fast to the clerk room that I’d nearly tripped on my way there.

So here I was, standing before Kirako, with my fingers crossed in my burgundy skirt pocket, hoping that she might have something for me.

“I’m looking for my case files.”

Kirako adjusted her glasses and squinted at me through her bright pink frames.

“But... you haven’t turned them in yet,” she said, sounding confused.

“No, not those,” I said, shaking my head. “The files Dazai-san and Kunikida-san turned in when they rescued me from Akutagawa at the art gallery.”

Kirako’s forest-green eyes widened.

“You want those?”

For a second, she looked uncomfortable.

“Uh. Kyou-chan... You sure you want those?” she asked again, staring doubtfully at me. “Most people generally avoid looking at their own case files... depending on who wrote the reports, they’re not always that flattering...”

“I’m sure,” I said firmly, “And I’m not after my own information, I’m trying to look into Yamazaki Tomie-san, my old neighbor.”

“Your old neighbor?” she asked, turning back to the computer and pulling up the filing software. “Are you just looking out of curiosity? Because this says she’s been relocated to Nagano.”

“Yeah, I know about that,” I admitted, “But is there anything else on her? Or her husband? Anything that Dazai-san or Kunikida-san might’ve filed around the time when I joined?”

“Let’s check...”

Kirako began typing but when she found what she was looking for, I heard a sound like a buzzer. I glanced over her shoulder at a grayed-out file. It looked a little like the hidden files Katai had dug up on Mr. Yamazaki yesterday.

“What’s that noise?” I asked curiously.

Kirako frowned.

“That’s weird,” she mumbled, clicking the mouse again. “It looks like the file is locked.”

“Locked?” I repeated incredulously, staring at the screen in shock. “But you’re the highest ranking clerk—you have access to everything! How could it be locked?”

“I don’t know,” Kirako said quietly, clicking through, “it’s probably some kind of error. Either that or whoever wrote it made it so that only they or President Fukuzawa could open it, which doesn’t happen too often...”

She shot me an apologetic look.

“We can ask IT to look into it but for now, I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

I slapped my hand over my face and groaned as Kirako clicked through a few more screens.

“You know,” she said, scrolling through what seemed to be a separate document, “from the looks of this bit here, Yamazaki Tomie-san might actually be in witness protection. If that’s the case, I’m not sure how much you’re going to be able to find on her here with us...”

She glanced up at me.

“Why are you looking into her right now?” she asked. Her features softened into a sympathetic smile. “Do you miss her, Kyou-chan? If you just want to talk to her, I’m sure it can wait.”

“I did think about reaching out yesterday,” I admitted, thinking back to my conversation with Kyouka and Atsushi about bento boxes, “but this has something to do with my current case. The company that hired me and Dazai-san thinks her husband stole a lot of money from them.”

Kirako’s eyes shot up into her bangs.

“Really? Well, if that’s the case, maybe you could try the police department? If he’s a known criminal, they might have something?”

I chewed my cheek.

“I don’t know if that’s such a good idea...”

If Mr. and Mrs. Yamazaki were in some kind of trouble with the Port Mafia or the criminal underworld, then asking the police could draw more unwanted attention to them. And even if that weren’t the case, if Mrs. Yamazaki was in witness protection, there’s no way someone like me, an employee of a private detective agency, would be allowed access to that kind of information, no matter how important Ranpo-san liked to say we were.

Not to mention, the last time I checked in with the police, I ended up being confronted by Akutagawa and nearly getting my legs chopped off...

“Wait...” I mumbled, suddenly remembering something. “Maybe Dazai-san has her information. He’s the one who told me she relocated, after all, maybe he has her phone number—”

“Whose number would I have?” a familiar tenor voice chirped from behind me.

I whirled.

“Dazai-san!”

For once, I was actually happy to see him and it must’ve shown on my face because the bandaged brunette brightened up instantly.

“Well, this is a pleasant surprise!” he declared, his chocolate-brown eyes sparkling as he regarded me. “Now why can’t you smile this sweetly for me every time I see you?”

“Do you happen to have Yamazaki Tomie-san’s phone number by any chance?” I asked, choosing to ignore his previous remark. “You know, my old neighbor?”

One of Dazai’s dark eyebrows quirked upwards into his messy bangs.

“No...? Why would I have that?” he asked blankly.

As usual, he wasn’t wearing his trench coat while he was in the office and he crossed his bandaged arms with a confused look on his face.

“She’s married. And a bit old for me, don’t you think?”

I resisted the urge to roll my eyes. Normally, I wouldn’t hesitate to call him out for being too flirty for his own good but right now, I needed something from him and it was probably wisest to stay on his good side.

“I just thought,” I said slowly, “that you might have it since you were the last person to come into contact with her after... the incident at the art gallery.”

“Ohhh, I see,” Dazai murmured, rubbing his chin. “You’re trying to check up on her, aren’t you? Well, sorry to disappoint you, Kusunoki-kun, but I don’t have it.”

I felt my shoulders droop in disappointment.

“But if you like...” Dazai offered, that impish grin sliding back onto his face, “I could help you track her down. In exchange for a small favor, of course.”

“You’re going to help me find her,” I said, smiling as pleasantly as possible, “because it’s relevant to our case. I went over to Katai-san’s yesterday and—”

“That’s right!” Dazai suddenly exclaimed, clapping his hands together in excitement, “How did everything go with Kunikida-kun yester—”

I slapped both my hands over his mouth to stop him from saying anything further and shot a horrified look over my shoulder at Kirako, who, thankfully, only looked confused.

“Dazai-san.”

There was an edge to my smile and without removing one of my hands from his mouth, I started pushing him out the door.

“Could I speak to you about our case? In private?”

Without waiting for him to answer, I pushed him right past the threshold and nodded politely to Kirako as we left. I didn’t take my hand off Dazai’s mouth (ugh, this felt so weird) until I’d pushed him into the conference room. This time, however, I didn’t lock the door.

“What are you doing?!” I snapped, all patience exhausted. “Why would you bring up Kunikida-san in front of Kirako-san?! I thought you said you wouldn’t tell anyone!”

“I wasn’t going to!” Dazai claimed, looking affronted, “I just wanted to know what you found out at Katai’s place.”

As I eyed him suspiciously, Dazai put up both hands in a gesture of surrender.

“Well, it turns out, Tsushima Shuji and Yamazaki Shuji are the same person,” I told him. “Katai managed to get into the company employee files and I recognized the ID photo he pulled up. It looks like it was taken a few decades ago, around the time Shuji-san and Tomie-san got married. They must’ve moved here from Nagano when Tanaka Investments hired him.”

“So he’s been working at the company this whole time,” Dazai mumbled, tapping his chin. “Interesting.”

“What about you, Dazai-san?” I asked, putting a hand on my hip. “I didn’t see you all afternoon yesterday—”

“Oh?”

Dazai suddenly perked up, taking his hand off his chin.

“Did you miss me, my sweet—?”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” I cut him off, slapping away his hands before he could put them somewhere I’d make him regret. “I’m asking you what you found yesterday while I was talking to Katai-san. He said he was going to try to trace everything he could of Yamazaki Shuji today and that he’d call me once he’d finished but I’d like to hear what you found.”

I crossed my arms and fixed him with a suspicious look.

“You said you were going out to talk to some information brokers yesterday, didn’t you? Don’t tell me you actually stayed at my desk all day, huffing my markers or something? And no—”

I jabbed a finger in his face like he was a misbehaving dog. Dazai had suddenly looked a little too excited at the prospect of digging through my desk for Sharpies.

“I’m not going to let you do that,” I stressed. “For one, it’s not going to kill you, just get you high as a kite, and two, you’ll dry them out and then I won’t be able to use them any more.”

I crossed my arms as Dazai wilted visibly and let out a heavy sigh.

“I’m not going to go through your desk,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his bandaged neck. “Not for markers, anyway. But you’re right, that’s not important. We should talk about what I learned about Shuji-san.”

He pulled out a chair for me and gestured for me to sit.

Making a mental note to move anything even remotely toxic out of my desk and into my locker, I also let out a heavy sigh and sat.

“So my information corroborates yours,” Dazai said, pulling out his own chair and scooting noisily against the tiles until he was squished up right next to me in the large, empty conference room.

He took out a set of papers from inside his black vest and put them down on the long table in front of us.

“Yamazaki Shuji does appear to be our target’s real name. He grew up in Nagano, where he met his wife, Tomie-san, then relocated with her to Yokohama when Tanaka Investments scouted him. Over the years, he rose up through the ranks until he became one of their most senior accountants and account managers.”

Dazai placed another document on the table.

“According to these records, Shuji-san took a lot of business trips abroad and was rarely at the company. His last visit to the company headquarters took place about a month ago.”

“Wait a second,” I said, shifting the set of papers on the table. “Katai-san says Shuji-san seems to have disappeared off the face of the Earth a month ago, but his card was used to get building access two nights ago—the night before the bombing.”

I glanced up at Dazai.

“That means someone used his card to get into the building—probably to set the bomb that nearly got us yesterday.”

Dazai nodded.

“I assume you saw the dead bird in the trash can?” he asked, leaning one bandaged arm on the table as he looked at me, his striped shirt sleeve scuffing up one set of the documents.

“I did,” I replied, trying to shove his arm off the papers but he wouldn’t budge. I gave up. “President Tanaka must’ve tightened security because he’s afraid someone’s after him. And given there was that bombing at Shuji-san’s second apartment, I can’t blame him.”

Dazai raised an eyebrow.

“‘Second’ apartment?” he asked, “Why do you call it that?”

“Because,” I said, surprised.

He hadn’t figured it out?

“His first apartment is the one he shared with his wife, down the hall where I lived.”

Dazai grew quiet. He seemed to be scrutinizing me very carefully and for just a moment, the look in his bright brown eyes appeared to be one of pity. At once, I frowned.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Kusunoki,” Dazai began.

He tapped his fingers against the table as he studied me.

“Let me ask you a question. It’s a philosophical question but, please, humor me for a second.”

“What?” I asked, taken aback. “A philosophy question? Now?”

Dazai nodded and at the look in his eyes, I was struck silent.

I’d seen the expression in those clear brown eyes once before, the night I was rescued from the gallery. It was the same look Dazai had given me when I was holding that glass shard to my own neck... like he was seeing something in me that I didn’t want to see in myself...

The brightly lit room suddenly felt warm and stuffy. My heart began to race.

“...What is it?”

“It’s from an old book I read once,” Dazai said, still staring deep into my eyes, “Let’s say for nine years, I had an apple. I believed it was a goodly apple but after possessing it for those nine years and one day, I discover that it is rotten to its core.”

He lowered his gaze momentarily, his thick, dark bangs dropping just a little over his eyes.

“Had been the whole time, actually, even though I had not been aware of it,” he said, smiling softly to no one in particular.

I could barely breathe.

“Would it be fair to say then,” Dazai continued, glancing back up at me, “that I had possessed for nine years, a goodly apple?”

“I...”

I looked away.

“I’m not sure I understand the question.”

“I think you do.”

And with that, Dazai gently laid one large, half bandaged hand over mine. My heart stopped as the weight of his hand settled against it.

“Answer my question, Kusunoki,” he said gently. “Did I, for those nine years, possess a goodly apple?”

His fingers closed around mine.

“Dazai...?”

I felt a lump forming in my throat as I stared back into his deep brown eyes.

Was he really asking about an apple...?

I could tell Dazai was waiting patiently for my answer, so with some difficulty, I swallowed and opened my mouth to speak. I couldn’t bring myself to move my hand out from under his.

“I think...” I replied slowly, “that it was. A goodly apple that is. You spent nine good years with it, didn’t you? And it brought you joy.”

“Joy?” Dazai asked, his dark brows drawing together momentarily in thought.

“Yes.”

I studied his face as I answered.

“They say time heals all wounds. I’m sure you will always remember the moment you found out about the rotten core, but as time passes, the pain will start to fade and you’ll be left with the memories of those nine good years instead. And if it’s the nine years you remember best, then...”

I smiled and Dazai’s dark eyes widened just a fraction. His hand twitched where it lay over mine.

“Yes. It was a goodly apple.”

“Kyou...” Dazai breathed.

For a moment, neither of us spoke. Dazai was staring at me as if he had never properly seen my face before and I felt my face warm under the intensity of his stare. And in that moment, the curtains behind his dark eyes seemed to lift... and I found myself once again seeing a side of Dazai that I’d only caught fleeting glimpses of before...

It was the same Dazai who pulled away from me yesterday morning, when I’d reached back to place my hand over his.

And the same lonely Dazai who’d walked me home that cold, spring night...

... and asked me to join him in double suicide.

I couldn’t breathe.

“Hey... Dazai?”

I bit my lip.

“Are you okay? Why did you ask me this question?”

At once, Dazai smiled. The curtains came down like a steel door and his mask snapped back into place. It all happened so quickly that I was left wondering what I had just seen—and if I had actually seen anything at all.

Dazai’s smile softened and he slowly leaned in.

“I’m fine,” he whispered sweetly, giving my hand a light, affectionate squeeze. “But is that your final answer, Kyou-chan? Do you really believe in the healing power of time so strongly?”

“I—I do,” I stammered, my heart suddenly beating faster than before as his eyes seemed to darken. “I mean, of course I do. Why—”

My voice caught in my throat and I cleared it lightly to try to stop the words from sticking.

“Why wouldn’t I?” I asked, “when my own Ability allows me to see the future?”

Dimly, I thought back to Saeki Mei from the convenience store, the woman who had been kidnapped during my first case. I thought about how I’d seen a vision of her in the summer, through the old manager’s eyes. Mei would be laughing and jogging and wearing new blonde highlights in her pitch-black hair when she returned in July. And Mei would be back. The manager had assured me of this.

“I’ve seen it,” I said at last, staring back into his eyes. “I’ve seen people heal.”

“That’s good,” Dazai said quietly, still watching me with that inscrutable look in his eyes. He started leaning in close. “Good to hear...”

“Um, Dazai...?” I whispered, my heart beating so loud I was sure he could hear it too. “Sh-shouldn’t we go back to talking about the case...?”

“Case?” Dazai repeated absentmindedly.

The sound of someone knocking on the conference room door drew my attention and Dazai and I looked up as one as Tanizaki Junichiro poked his head into the room.

“Oh, there you are, Kusunoki-san,” he said.

I saw his eyes shift towards the table, where Dazai’s hand still lay over mine and at once, I shifted and pulled my hand back. Dazai, however, hadn’t moved.

“I was looking for you,” Tanizaki continued, opening the door further and stepping fully into the room.

He jerked a thumb behind him towards the direction of the main lobby.

“I was wondering if you wouldn’t mind cleaning up the area around your desk a little. We’re expecting some deliveries this afternoon and Kunikida-san asked us to keep the main office space clear for it...”

He glanced at the set of printouts spread out across the table.

“Unless, of course, you’re discussing a case and you’re busy? I can come back later, you know.”

“No, it’s okay!” I said, jumping to attention the instant Kunikida’s name crossed Tanizaki’s lips. “I can help. Unless...”

I shot an annoyed glance at Dazai, who quickly stifled an audible snicker behind one half-bandaged hand.

“...we need to do this now?”

“No, it can wait,” Dazai said, the ghost of his laughter still visible in the smile on his face.

He pulled out a handheld gaming console from somewhere underneath the desk and started up some sort of game, ignoring me as I frowned at him.

So that’s why he chose to sit here—he must’ve taped all sorts of weird toys and things under the table so he wouldn’t get bored during conferences.

It wasn’t necessarily because he was trying to get close to me...

“Uh, Kusunoki-san?” Tanizaki prompted me, “You still coming?”

“Yeah!” I replied, not understanding where the strange sense of disappointment was coming from. I turned to look at Dazai, who was now sitting with his feet on the table, almost scuffing the printouts, fully immersed in playing his game.

“Guess I’ll get going then?”

Without looking up at me, Dazai nodded. He pursed his lips in concentration and continued madly pushing at the buttons on his console.

“Yeah, sure, go,” he said in between spurts of frantic button mashing. “Let’s pick this back up when I’ve beaten this second boss—I mean, when you’re done out there.”

Victory music blasted from the speakers and Dazai let out a raucous cheer. He put down the device for just a second and winked.

“Go impress Kunikida-kun.”

“You—!”

I bit back my retort as I saw the look of confusion on Tanizaki’s face. I slapped a hand over my face and sighed.

“Never mind. See you later, Dazai-san.”

“Ciao!”

Rolling my eyes, I followed Tanizaki out the door as the sounds of video game music resumed playing.

“Oh, and Kusunoki-kun?”

I turned back slightly at the sound of Dazai’s voice.

“Yes?”

I heard fight music playing over the speakers of Dazai’s gaming console. He met my gaze and smiled.

“There’s no need to worry about Yamazaki Tomie-san. I checked in on her nephew a few days ago and she��s doing well. She said to tell you ‘hi.’”

I brought my hand up to my mouth.

“Dazai-san...!”

He actually went and checked on her?

“Thank you,” I said, smiling warmly at him. “That’s... surprisingly sweet of you.”

“I can be full of surprises,” Dazai quipped, grinning cheekily. “Have fun!”

And with that, he went back to his game. Still smiling, I let the door close behind me, the tinny sounds of electronic bells and whistles disappearing as the conference room sealed itself once more.

***

“So what kind of deliveries are we expecting today?” I asked as Tanizaki shuffled about the empty main office with a simple broom and dustpan in his hands.

It was relatively early in the afternoon but it seemed everyone was out. Everyone except for me, Tanizaki, Dazai, and Kirako, anyway. Kunikida had apparently left Tanizaki in charge of the main office area (his sister was out running shopping errands for the office) and Kirako in charge of the clerks while a few of the detectives accompanied President Fukuzawa to escort a foreign diplomat around Yokohama. Because Dazai and I were working on a relatively big case, we were allowed to remain. Everyone else, it seemed, was out working in the field. I paused my own sweeping to glance over at Kyouka’s desk, which had been refurbished and delivered yesterday, just before I started this case with Dazai.

“Is someone else getting an improved desk?”

“No, but we’re getting some new equipment,” Tanizaki replied, sweeping towards the main door. “First thing coming this afternoon is a fancy new printer, the kind with the copier built in. Haruno-san’s been asking for it for months and Kunikida-san finally caved.”

“Ah.” I smiled. “Good for her.”

I might not have been with the Agency long, but even a couple of weeks was enough for me to find out how difficult it was to get Kunikida to spend money. That man watched the budget like accounting was his second job... which it probably was, I realized with a silent grimace.

If I was doing the math correctly (I might not be, I still remembered that overblown math lesson Kunikida gave me after I passed my Entrance Exam), the overall costs from my Entrance Exam still might not have been recovered yet. Not by me alone, anyway.

“By the way, how did everything go yesterday?” Tanizaki asked with a friendly smile.

“Dazai’s lying!!” I exclaimed in a rush, squeezing my broom handle so tightly in my hands that it nearly bent. “I don’t know what you heard but it’s not true! It was all professional, I swear!!”

Tanizaki blinked at me in confusion, then slowly and steadily started backing away.

“Uhh, okay,” he said slowly, putting his broom up defensively, the way one might when facing a dangerous animal, “I didn’t hear anything in particular, just that you met with Katai-san and you needed to talk to him about your case?”

“Oh,” I breathed out, instantly settling down. “Oh, right. Yeah, everything went fine.”

Hoping it would put Tanizaki at ease, I laughed a little.

“Katai-san is an interesting person, isn’t he?” I said, resuming my sweeping. “I heard he used to work for the Agency, years ago and it seems the only person he really keeps in touch with is Kunikida-san. Have you met Katai-san, Tanizaki-kun?”

At once, Tanizaki’s face darkened and I actually flinched when I saw the murderous look in his red-tinted eyes.

“Yeah, I have,” the redhead growled, nearly snapping his broom in half as he recalled some offensive incident. “I’d heard he gets really weird around girls but I’ll never forget the shit he pulled around Naomi. The way he stared at her...”

His grip tightened on his broom handle and this time, it was my turn to back away from Tanizaki as he trailed off and fumed in silence. Yosano had warned me never to ask any questions about the Tanizaki siblings’ relationship and I thought it best to take her advice. Two weeks in the Agency was more than enough for me to guess...

“I-it’s lucky I wasn’t exactly Katai-san’s type, then huh?” I tried to joke.

Although Katai had thought I was Kunikida’s...

Just thinking about it made my face burn so I looked away and continued sweeping.

“Yeah, that’s good,” Tanizaki mumbled, making his way towards the trash can by the client booth.

He set his broom against the stained glass paneling and opened up the lid

“So you’re making progress on your case, then?” Tanizaki asked as I nodded and joined him by the trash bin. “That’s good. It seems like a tough one. Tougher still since you’re working with Dazai-san. I mean.”

He elbowed me slightly and laughed.

“Speaking of men who get weird around girls, am I right?”

Tanizaki continued chuckling to himself as I emptied my dustbin into the trash but I couldn’t bring myself to return the laugh.

Dazai was definitely the worst kind of flirt but there was something about him back there, something different from his usual antics. Nobody had ever looked at me the way Dazai had just now... like he was trying—really trying—to get to know me. Like he was utterly fascinated by me...

And that he really liked what he saw...

I put down the dustbin and broom and stared into the trash, at the ashes from the fire Dazai had set yesterday.

Why had he asked me that question...? He clearly hadn’t been asking me about a literal apple but why did Dazai want to ask about my worldview so suddenly? And why did he seem so surprised by my answer?

So genuinely surprised... and pleased?

I bit my lip as I thought about the way his hand had rested against mine and how I hadn’t moved away.

I hadn’t moved away because I didn’t want to...

Why?

Why does my heart beat so fast when he looks at me like that...?

Why does his smile make me want to stop and stare at him for hours on end?

I closed my eyes and tried to put the thoughts out of my head but no sooner had I done so than a memory floated back to me—the memory of the day I’d met Dazai—the way he’d smiled when he handed me my drawing, the way his eyes had sparkled when he’d caught me staring...

I put my hand up to my face and covered my eyes.

Why can’t I stop thinking about him all of a sudden?

The only man I liked was Kunikida... and only Kunikida...

Right...?

“Kusunoki-san?” Tanizaki asked, sounding confused and slightly concerned when I suddenly and violently twitched, as if I were falling asleep on my feet and abruptly woke back up.

He leaned over to peer into the trash with me.

“What are you looking at? Oh.”

He wrinkled his nose and sighed when he saw the charred ring of residue in the metal bin.

“The fire, huh? Yeah it’s a good thing you weren’t here when Dazai did that. I swear to God, all hell broke loose right before lunch yesterday. Kunikida basically lost it—you should’ve heard him yelling and screaming—”

“Should I take this outside and wash it?” I asked, pointing to the can but Tanizaki was already shaking his head.

“Nah, you don’t need to. We can ask the building janitor to take care of it. Then again...”

He studied my face, looking slightly concerned.

“If you need a breath of fresh air,” he said, “we could always just make a quick trip to the larger bins out back. I’ll take these. Why don’t you go to the shredders by the printer and see what you can get?”

Nodding furiously, I hurried off towards the printers—only to trip on the very trash can I’d just offered to clean up. I fell to the ground with an undignified squawk of surprise, spilling ashes and scraps of paper everywhere as the trash can rolled away on its side. I leaped to my feet.

“Sorry!” I exclaimed, scrambling to clean up the mess I’d just made. “Let me get this—”

“That’s fine, but you don’t have to use your hands!” Tanizaki cried, looking frantic and now more worried than ever. “Kusunoki, what’s going on? Are you feeling okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I insisted, picking up scraps of paper and flinging them into the trash, completely disregarding Tanizaki’s protests. “This was my fault so I’ll...”

I trailed off as my eyes landed on a name on one of the larger scraps of paper. The corner was burned and there were dried chunks of fire extinguisher foam on the black ink of the text, but I could still make out the words.

It was an autopsy report, forwarded to the Armed Detective Agency by request of one of the detectives looking into an open case.

The name of the victim: Yamazaki Tomie.

And the detective who had requested the report...

Dazai Osamu.

[leonawriter]

To Watch The Parade

Read it on AO3

Fandom: Bungo Stray Dogs

Characters: Chuuya, Dazai, others mentioned.

Summary: Chuuya always feels a pull, a flutter of something between fear and longing as the parade goes past each year, and this year is no different. Neither is Dazai's presence. 

But there are changes, this year.

Notes: Mostly canon youkai au. SKK implied.

...

Chuuya stands a distance away from the parade, dressed not in his sharp suit but a kimono that had last been worn for a summer festival, along with the mask he'd worn at New Year's. He leans forward a slight bit, hesitates, and shifts his feet.

It would be easy to go and join them. They all seem to be having fun, after all, and it wasn't as though there weren't people who looked like him - not exactly, but still, close enough that he wouldn't feel out of place - in among the people who didn't, and it was tempting. So tempting.

He could take a few steps, slip in, and pretend that he'd always been there. 

Tell himself that he would stay for only a while.

It would be so easy-

Which was why he couldn't, and he stayed where he was, watching them all march past with no idea where they were going.

"You could join them, you know," a voice says from behind him. He doesn't even bother turning around. "None of them would force you out of the life you've built for yourself. They'd understand. A lot of them lead perfectly normal human lives most of the time too, just like you do."

He continues to watch, and he isn't sure why his heart beats faster - if it's fear, or if it's excitement. 

It certainly is something, being caught between fear and longing.

"I can't," is all he says.

"Mm," his companion hums. "That's what you've said every other year I've found you here, ever since I realised what you did when the time for the Night Parade came around. I shared my secrets with you, and I even have said that I could ensure you had a better kimono to wear to the event. That one is fine for normal festivals, but for..."

"I said I can't, Dazai."

He's stopped pretending that he doesn't know who's joined him, as if there was any pretending of such a sort when it was Dazai, and he tears his eyes away from the parade to see Dazai staring down at him, inscrutable in his dark blue kimono.

Unlike Chuuya, he's not bothered with a mask. 

Also unlike Chuuya, Dazai sports two soft white ears pointing up toward the moon, and a number of white tails show through from under that kimono he's wearing.

Chuuya had freaked the hell out the first time he'd seen Dazai like this. They'd been sixteen, and Chuuya had been watching just like he had been earlier, and an almost-familiar figure had just raced out of the parade, seeming to flicker and shrink as he'd run, as if he'd been bigger or taller than he already was when with the demons, and closer to what Chuuya recognised when he grew further away from them. 

He'd thought Dazai was human, after all. Why shouldn't he? Ignoring the name of Dazai's ability, everything about him said that he was human, right from the way he was skeptical of gods and spirits, to the way he threw his temper around like the brat he was when Mori told him to do something he didn't want to do. And then there he was, right in front of him with fox ears and not just one, but nine fox tails, and Chuuya had wound up having a screaming match with him in the middle of the street.

He'd also not been able to get over that for several weeks. Dazai had suffered the full wrath of Chuuya's silence, and harder hits when they were training together, and Chuuya had let more and more things get through his defences, just shy of anything that'd catch Mori's attention as actually going too far.

He can't remember anymore what had made it so they'd talked to each other again. Maybe nothing did, and he just plain forgot why he'd been so mad, aside from the next year, when they were seventeen, he wasn't so shocked or angry seeing Dazai in the parade, or when Dazai snuck out of it to try and trick Chuuya into joining, saying that it was a prank afterwards.

The worst had been the four years between eighteen and twenty-two, when he hadn't dared watch, because he wasn't sure if Dazai would turn up, and he wasn't sure how he'd react, if he saw the traitor with the demons, wasn't sure if he'd march in there against everything he knew just to punch Dazai's lights out, or if the other demons would take offence at such a thing, or if... worst of all, maybe, if he'd just turn around and go home, because clearly Dazai was better off not being human at all, and not even trying to make an effort at it.

But now here they were again.

"...You know," Dazai starts again, sounding far less sure of himself this time, enough that Chuuya's caught off guard, "I'm thinking of inviting Atsushi-kun next year. I didn't think I should, this year, when everything is still so new for him, and he's still settling in... he might have easily forgotten where home was, because you're right. It is easy to forget. But I think that it would do him a world of good, once he's ready."

Chuuya snorts. 

In the distance, the wild music keeps playing. The sound of a hundred and more voices raised in jubilation and music and chaos.

"You never bothered asking me if I was ready."

He's more than a little bitter, about that. He can still remember how he'd been scared shitless the first time Dazai had tried dragging him in, after he'd heard all of the stories of people just going missing, and how just the other day Dazai had joked about making Chuuya disappear.

"Maybe I should have," Dazai admits, not looking at him, attention drawn back to the parade, though a single ear has cocked toward Chuuya, a piece of body language he almost wishes would stick around full time, because it's nice knowing he's got Dazai's attention and doesn't have to work for it, when he wants to have it. "But I was... I didn't even think of it. At the time, all I cared about was drawing you further in. I hadn't... been able to share this side of myself for... so many years."

Chuuya feels a shiver run through him, at the reminder, subtle though it had been, that Dazai wasn't actually the few months younger than him that the records said he was; or at least, perhaps Dazai Osamu was twenty-two years old and had been born roughly two months after him.

The kitsune standing next to him, though - who knew. Dazai had never told him exactly how old he was, always treating the question like some woman for whom age was some touchy subject. The first he'd even known was what he'd looked up online, which had suggested Dazai could have just been born as a white fox, but the number of them heavily suggested he'd lived at least centuries, if not... more.

He didn't act like it, at least. Which tended to be a relief. Dazai acted most of the time like he was as old as he said he was, no more and no less. He barely - if ever - even spoke about the idea of being older than that. He'd treated Chuuya coldly the first time he'd brought the idea of age up, in regards to legends, and Chuuya had been pissed off enough because of the double standard - Dazai knew things about him that he'd never told anyone else, but the moment he tried looking up shit that was public knowledge about kitsune, the moment he tried to ask, Dazai acted like he'd started reading his private diary with all his darkest secrets in.

"You're asking me again now, though," he says at long last with a resigned, more than a little frustrated sigh. 

Dazai tells him he should have been more patient, and yet there he is again, being the same as ever-

"I'm asking. That's all I'm doing. And offering. Because the offer is always open, just like it has been since I found you here when we were sixteen." Dazai's nails click against something, and he doesn't have to look to know that they're claws, and to be honest, it does sort of suit him. On days like these, he looks on the outside like Chuuya thinks he is on the inside. Sharp, dangerous, but also kind of fluffy and soft. He wonders what it says about Dazai that he's always been fluffy and soft as well as sharp and dangerous. "You know... if you accepted, I would go with you. I just wanted you to know that. I always would have gone with you, Chuuya. Even if it would have seemed like I'd left you, I still wouldn't have... tonight, too. I don't think you have anything to fear from the Night Parade, but... even so. I wouldn't let you be spirited away by anyone else."

His heart caught in his mouth at the confessions, the changes, the... everything, that was so different from the Dazai he had once known.

He forces himself to calm, to breathe, even though he sees one of the demons wave over to Dazai - to them - to come over, to join the fun.

"I... don't think... I don't know if I'm ready. If I'll ever be ready. That's why I just watch, Dazai. I appreciate it, I do - I really do. But I..."

"You're scared that if you join them, they'll call you by a name that you don't call your own," Dazai says simply.

Matter of fact.

The words - the first admission, the first confirmation of something he's kept hidden away for so long - are as much a punch to Chuuya's gut as seeing Dazai with silvery fox-features all those years ago had been.

"What, and you think they wouldn't? And what about if some demon decides they want Arahabaki back? What then? I don't even- what if that does something to me-"

"It wouldn't," Dazai says firmly, "and even if it could... no one would do that to you."

"And how do you know that?"

He's holding onto himself, now - arms around his own chest, and hyper-aware of the hat still resting on his head, even with the demon-mask resting on his face that Dazai seems to be able to see right through.

"Because," Dazai says. He hesitates. Chuuya can tell in the tension in the air and in Dazai's body, that it's a true hesitation, a moment of indecision. "Because," Dazai continues slowly, "no one calls me anything other than 'Dazai Osamu', either."

Chuuya blinks, and then feels all of the air leaving him at once. 

It's the first time he's ever heard Dazai willingly talk about any life before being Dazai, ever. And here he is, admitting that at one point, this hadn't been his name. That he'd been someone else. Known as someone else. That perhaps Chuuya could look in the history books and find someone with a different name, and they'd have Dazai's face looking back at him.

It's a sobering thought, the amount of trust - beyond even their normal - that such a piece of knowledge suggests. But at the same time, it's simply an extension of the invitation extended to him, and his mouth dries.

"I... thanks. I'm sorry. I just - maybe... I just need more time too, Dazai."

"That isn't a 'no', though."

He lets out a breathy laugh, which sounds stranger than even his normal speech, coming from under the mask.

He feels like he's walking on thin ice. Walking the edge of a tall building, with Dazai keeping pace with him, so that he might be touched and nullified at any moment, that sense of vertigo that only Dazai can give him.

"No, no, it's... not. I guess. I mean... maybe next year, Dazai."

He looks back at Dazai, only to see his partner smiling from ear to ear, with his eyes closed, just like a fox, and like this he can even see the sharp fangs in Dazai's mouth that are like a physical manifestation of all the harm the man can do with his words, but right now it just looks kind of... cute.

"Next year, then," Dazai says happily, still smiling.

"And what about you? You going back in, or...?"

Dazai shrugs. 

"It doesn't matter that much to me either way," he says. "The parade is fun, and everyone there enjoys having me, but... if Chuuya is here, then that's where I think I'll stay."

He loses the ability to breathe all over again, albeit for different reasons entirely.

Dazai will go back to the Agency in the morning, he knows that, and he'll probably act as though tonight never happened to most if not all of the people he works with, same as what happened when they both worked together in the mafia. Chuuya will go back home, and he'll wake up in the morning and go to work, and in general... life will go on. As normal.

If Chuuya is here, then that's where I think I'll stay, Dazai had said, though.

For two years, he'd avoided the parade entirely in large part just because he'd been afraid that hadn't been the case, and Dazai had just left, given up on being human at all, and the Dazai he next met would be more fox than not, would look different, older, stranger, and it haunted him in his dreams. This Dazai that no longer cared about humanity at all, and sometimes hadn't even recognised him.

And now - now, hearing those words... more than the first time they'd met in person again, more than seeing him as a human being, more than Corruption and knowing he could still trust and more than knowing Dazai was trying to be more human than he'd ever been in the mafia-

Something shifted.

Chuuya sighed.

For the first time, he felt comfortable just to watch the parade go by, without the indecision of whether he wanted to risk knowing whether he was too human to not be carried away by it, or not human enough. 

Instead, he's just happy to stay where he is.

...

AN: If you think I'm suggesting that "Tsushima Shuji" or any other name Dazai might have taken is effectively a deadname to him and has been ever since he became "Dazai Osamu" and he has distanced himself from that past life or lives, then you're absolutely right. By which, there is the implication of - as Chuuya figured - just how big of a deal even admitting one existed to Chuuya means to Dazai himself.

[shinsoukokuvalentine]

20?

(Well I watched the Steven Universe movie again today, so this Ruby/Sapphire sort of thing happened. In this AU, the Gems are differentiated by the color of their eyes, not their skin, for the ease of my visualization process. I’d encourage you to look up the gems referenced ^^)

20.  “I’ll protect you no matter what... even if it kills me.”

250/365: Universe

He hadn’t wanted to come. He saw what waited for him down there, down on that filthy planet ridden with rebels and lower life forms, and he wanted no part of it.

But Mori made it very clear what would happen if he refused.

“Are you defying orders, Hematite?” He had snapped from his throne. Ryuunosuke’s lip twitched.

“I have a name,” he grumbled under his breath, but he straightened his back, crossing his hands and wrists in salute over his chest. “I understand,” he said, louder.

It was either get shattered by Mori or at the hands of the rebels. One of those options was more honorable.

Higuchi, a glittering Peridot soldier, tried to encourage him.

“You’re being sent with a guard,” she murmured. “I’m sure you’ll be perfectly fine.”

Ryuunosuke’s brow furrowed as they traveled in the ship towards the rebel planet.

“You can’t see the future, Higuchi. I can.”

The Peridot frowned but said nothing else, silent as the doors behind them slid open.

“My Hematite?” A small voice called. “We’ll be landing shortly.”

With a sigh, Ryuu rose from his seat. His guard stands in the doorway, eyes shining with the colors of the gem embedded in his palm, too much hope in his face; the perfect picture of a Gem that had never seen a battlefield.

And something about him drew Ryuu in like a magnet.

Ryuu walked to him, keeping himself from stiffening when the guard customarily took his hand to escort him. 

“You seem tense, my Hematite,” said the Ametrine guard. “Would you like a fan? Or somewhere to lie down?”

Ryuunosuke shook his head. “I’m fine,” he muttered. The Ametrine only gave a small nod, silver hair catching the ship’s lights and glittering like his gem. Ryuu had to purposefully keep his eyes forward as he was escorted outside.

The planet’s sky stretched in a hazy gray above them. The occasional drop of something wet fell from the clouds, causing Ryuu to shiver whenever they landed on him.

“It’s okay,” the Ametrine said, a soft smile on his lips. “It’s called rain; it won’t hurt you.”

When Ryuu fixed him in a stern look, he frowned immediately and turned his head away.

“I-i was briefed on this planet before coming here,” he murmured an explanation. Ryuu gave a small sigh.

“I can see that it’s harmless,” he grumbled, “that doesn’t mean I have to like it.”

“Ah! My Hematite!” Kouyou beamed the second they enter the war tent. “The only one who can come up with a good strategy around here,” she added with scorn, tossing a glare at the other soldiers in the tent. Ryuu saluted her.

“My Carmine.”

“So?” Kouyou said, sitting down as Ryuu stepped closer, his hand still bound to the Ametrine. “What have you seen in your visions of the future?”

Ryuu nodded, standing over the map at the table. “The rebels will attack here and here,” he pointed at the map with one hand. “They’re disorganized, as their leader keeps mysteriously disappearing. Morale is low. Simple guerilla strategies will undo them.”

Kouyou laughed in her throne-like chair. “We’ll have this little rebellion crushed in the blink of an eye,” she purred. Ryuu frowned.

“Don’t be too sure.”

Kouyou paused. Eyes narrowing, she stared at him.

“What?”

Ryuu closed his eyes, knowing how untimely their arrival had been, knowing he could do nothing but grip the Ametrine’s hand tighter.

“They’re warping in to attack this camp,” he said.

Kouyou leaped from her seat.

“What?!” She shouted, but immediately, a scream rang from outside. Kouyou rushed out, along with her other soldiers, but Ryuu stood still. He wouldn’t run.

Ametrine suddenly yanked him forward, beginning to run, racing with him out the back of the tent.

“We have to get you to safety!” He shouted. But the clouds had descended, as Ryuu knew they would. Sounds of battle rang around them; the clashing of blades, the clanging of shields, the cries of war. Friend and foe blended together in the mist, forming only shadows.

The Ametrine froze, eyes darting around, chest heaving.

“W-where should we go?” He stammered. He whipped around to Ryuu, staring at him with panic in his innocent, wide eyes. “Look into the future and tell us where we should go!”

Ryuu didn’t point out that his guard shouldn’t be giving him orders. Instead, he shook his head.

“It’s pointless,” he muttered. The Ametrine paled.

“What do you mean?!” he shouted, grabbing Ryuu’s shoulders. “You can see everything, right? All the routes the future could take? In which one do we survive?!”

Ryuu closed his eyes again. The rain continued to fall, and he held his palm out to the sky to feel it drip onto his gem.

“In every path, you survive,” he murmured, “And in every path… I die.”

He felt the Ametrine freeze.

“... No,” the young Gem whispered. “No, no you can’t die! I’m protecting you!”

“It’s inevitable,” Ryuu said with a sigh. “You can’t prevent it.”

“Yes I CAN!” Screamed the Ametrine. Ryuu snapped his eyes open to see him, face twisted with grief, body shaking, hands gripping the lapels of Ryuu’s coat.

“I have to protect you! I’ll protect you no matter what, even if it kills me!” He cried. Ryuu couldn’t tell if the water dripping down his face was from the rain or tears. The Ametrine tries to catch his breath, hiccuping.

“Because, I-!”

He didn’t finish his own words. A sword sliced through the fog, down to Ryuu, sharp enough to shatter him. He closed his eyes to accept it, and everything up until that point flashed in the forefront of his memory. Time seemed to slow.

“Despite everything,” he thought to himself as his memories caught up with the present, “I’m glad I could meet you… Atsushi the Ametrine.”

But something happened that Ryuu never saw, in any of his visions. The Ametrine leaped forward, shoving Ryuu out of the sword’s way, sending them down to the ground.

And suddenly, the present and the future were - are - one.

Everything seems to spin. Ryuu isn’t sure what he feels, who he is, and Atsushi isn’t sure either. They know their names, but they aren’t their names anymore. They’re new.

He shakes. He stares up at the sky, blinking slowly. The gems on his palms seem to tingle. Atsushi speeds his breath up while Ryuu slows it down. He feels panicked and peaceful at the same time, somehow.

It takes a moment for him to realize that the sounds of the battle have stopped. He sits up, looking around, and every eye that he can see is on him.

“What?” He says in a voice he doesn’t recognize. He looks down at his hands, hands he knows are his, but they’re also his, but they’re also theirs.

“I’ve felt this before,” Atsushi says in the same voice as Ryuu. “But only with other Ametrine. Is this… Okay?”

Ryuu can immediately tell, from the looks the other Gems are giving them, that this is absolutely not okay.

“They’ve fused!” A repulsed voice shouts from the clearing fog.

His breath catches in their throat.

“I what?” He pants.

And they split apart, as quickly as they had formed. Atsushi coughs. Ryuu shakes. The crowd stares.

“Hematite,” Kouyou’s voice murmurs in horror, drawing near to them, a scowl on her face. “What have you done?”

Ryuu stares at her. He doesn’t know what’s going on; he’s never seen any of this in his visions. He doesn’t know what to do or where to go.

But a hand grabs his wrist. He whips his head up to see Atsushi stare down at him with wide eyes.

“Run,” he says.

Ryuu scrambles to his feet. They begin to run, shoving past flabbergasted Gems on their way to the warp pad.

“GET THEM!” Screams Kouyou, but in a heartbeat, they land on the pad’s crystal surface, and suddenly Kouyou’s voice is miles away.

When they arrive in the quiet of a faroff woods, they run again. They run until night falls, until stars stretch across the sky, until they rest on a hill and watch the planet’s single moon together.

They say nothing. When they do speak, they talk over each other, thoughts and words muddled together into apologizes and forgiveness and questions and reassurance.

And as if drawn in by the thrill of practicing something forbidden - or perhaps simply drawn in by the thrill of each other - they fuse again. They dance, and they fuse again, if just to feel being together again, to try and understand their own heart, each other’s heart, their one heart.

The rebel leader, Dazai, finds them days later. He promises that on Earth, you can be whoever you want to be.

“What’s your name?” he asks the fusion. They - he - gives a tiny smile. He knows his name, somehow, without question.

“I’m Moonstone,” he murmurs.

Ryuunosuke’s prediction had been right, but in a way he never could have seen. He had died.

And he had been born anew.

[soukokuwu]

"requests are closed??" that cannot stop me because i cant read!! ** URGENT ** power couple comfort needed asap chuuya is the diplomat for the inheritor of a newly departed yokohama media moguls empire who agrees to fold the power of the company to moricorp so long as chuuya agrees to a date yah i need this like stat plz

THE OTHER HALF.

✢ genre. fluff ✢ pairing. chuuya x reader ✢ synopsis. you’re going to inherit your father’s media empire, and mori wants in. his ticket? chuuya. ✢ author notes. an urgent request? you got it! in 2 days ehehe i just hope you like this <3

He stares at the pristine white on the walls of the lavishly decorated office corridors. It suits their reputation. Nothing fits the reigning media mogul of Yokohama like grandeur. He would normally express some sort of distaste for how much of these… beautifications are unnecessary, but Mori had already warned him: it is imperative to get on their good side. Political reasons, he added. As if the mafia doesn’t have enough political influence already.

Although why, of all people, he chose to send NAKAHARA CHUUYA as Port Mafia’s representative to head the meeting, Chuuya himself doesn’t know. A cold-blooded, hot-headed vessel of destruction.

Yes, very plausible, very sensible, he thinks.

Sarcasm. That was sarcasm.

Mori always had his reasons for every decision he made. Some are possibly very fucked up, but even Chuuya admits his manipulation tactics and puzzle-piecing skills rival that of Dazai’s. So he never questions his boss’s decisions. At least, not to his face. He just wonders what is hiding behind this certain choice (of making Chuuya go to the meeting, alone) and how twisted it could be.

Cruising through the halls makes him realise just how much he’d hate it if he was a normal human with a normal, boring desk job. The rooms he passes by, with their glass windows and deceiving transparency, are all full of people either typing away on their keyboards or speaking into phones with some sort of urgency. Yikes. No thanks, he would much rather work with violence and be on the frontlines than man a desk at a mediocre job with less-than-satisfactory pay.

The redhead guesses that they’re going to take him to the boardroom (which incidentally, he thinks, is quite an appropriate name for a meeting room — rigid, stiff, flat — full of smiles that are painted on and the chatter of mindless opinions crafted only to cater to the ones who matter. If that’s an indication of anything to come, Chuuya is already dreading it.) After all, they had scheduled a meeting for discussions with the director on future possibilities of working with the mafia.

Chuuya does admit though, it would be very useful to have the media on their side. Not only digital, but print as well. The possibility to spread propaganda and cover up crimes. This company has it, and Mori is hungry, eager to take over. (Or at least, to establish dominance over them.) Maybe that’s why he chose the gravity manipulator. To make them comply with the threat of crushing them with his brute force should they refuse. It’s harsh. Not that he would mind if it comes to that. There’s a certain satisfaction, a certain kick, he gets out of seeing everyone before him cower in fear.

Because it means he’s in control.

And Chuuya loves being in control. After all, he controls the very things that holds everyone in its grip — gravity.

Ironically, though. What he doesn’t have control over is his own feelings. Mostly unpleasant. A temper so fiery and an impulse so unexpected. Today, though, there is a turn of events. Because as he turns the corner to enter the boardroom, he spots a pair of eyes on him, observing him shrewdly.

No, it isn’t yours. But your father’s.

Wrinkled face wrinkles up even more as they eye him from head to toe, expressing obvious displeasure in the form of tuts and a deepening frown. Chuuya can just tell from how the man wears an expensive tailored suit — probably from a high end luxury brand that Chuuya can’t even pronounce properly — and how his tie is tightened so firmly against his neck that he probably always has a stick up his ass.

But a whiff of something… refreshing skips pass his nostrils and all the hostility from seeing the director disintegrates into — what is this? Chuuya can’t even tell, another irritating reminder he doesn’t understand his own emotions all that well.

And that, that is when he first lays eyes on you.

If you’re wondering, no, it’s not that cinematic moment where you walk in and he’s immediately blinded by the light you bring with you thanks to that invisible halo you carry on your head. Chuuya sees the world through anything but rose-tinted glasses. He is captivated by you though, somehow. Maybe it’s the way you stride in so confidently, with your blazer fitted against your body tightly — not too tight — you don’t want to give off ‘sexy’ vibes, do you? Not in the office. No, you just radiate some show of ‘proper’ and ‘togetherness’ that other ladies must be envious of. Or so it seems to him, at least. Then he wonders again, maybe it’s the way you so nonchalantly brush past him, your shoulder nudging against his, not a care in the world for who he is.

He thinks he’s got his reasoning, a feasible enough reason of why he’s intrigued — you’re young, you’re sexily sophisticated (he just knows you are), and to be a part of this meeting, you must have a sort of… power, so to say.

And then you just have to, don’t you? You just have to take a seat on that chair (in an angle that seems to cater perfectly to Chuuya), cross your legs just enough so your skirt rides up your thigh high enough to leave him wanting to see more, but not enough to be considered as a bold move of seduction. The kicker? That smirk you wear when you realise that he’s staring. He always hated that expression; the one that other people wear out of the satisfaction of their triumph. Especially when it’s against him. But then why does he think he can look at yours forever?

Not even five minutes into the ‘discussion’ and Chuuya already finds out you’re the director’s daughter, the one who would inherit the company very soon. (He fails to properly listen to the reason why because his focus starts to fixate on you, the surrounding all melding into one — the sights, the sounds.) To which you respond with batting your eyelashes at the redhead and wearing an innocent smile yet at the same time being shrouded in an air of… mystery.

The debate on just how much of the empire that Port Mafia would control in the future is not quite a negotiation. If they want to, then they can just force the director’s hand, maybe kidnap his daughter — Chuuya glances briefly toward you before focusing back on your father and the tablet (apparently the company made a sort of presentation that Chuuya can say he frankly doesn’t give a shit about) — but no. Even now, he thinks, he doesn’t want anyone to lay a hand on you. Besides, if your current behaviour is any indication, even if the mafia does come after you, you won’t be scared. You look just like the kind of person who always has something up her sleeve. You must take after your father.

“On that note, I will be leaving the final decision up to my wonderful young lady here.”

That manages to bring Chuuya back to his senses.

What? The old man is leaving such an important decision in his daughter’s hands?

Chuuya breathes in deeply. Stay level-headed. He’s got this, he tries to convince himself. Notwithstanding that he has made it this far only because of the training Kouyou’s given him on the art of appeasing old uncles and kissing their ass so that they give him what he wants.

Guess Mori isn’t as thorough as Chuuya thinks he is.

“Now, you can focus on me.”

Right on cue. As soon as the director leaves.

Look at that, he was right. You are confident. You are smug. You are observant. And annoyingly enough, you are in control. Because to do his job properly, he has to act like he’s wrapped around your finger. (He fails to realise he already is.)

Chuuya clenches his jaw, his brain failing to function in this pivotal moment, failing to filter any kind of acceptable responses. So he stays silent, mind going a thousand miles an hour just trying to form words, sentences, yet drawing a blank. And any normal person in your position would have spoken up by now, but you? You’re reeling in his inexplicability, silently. Observing him as though he’s an animal trapped in a glass cage for all to admire.

You lean back against your chair, the padded back bending backwards to support your weight. Your arms are crossed over your chest and the smirk has not left your face. If anything, it gets wider. Neither of you give in. You both keep your gaze locked on each other, and the silence grows on him. The comfort sneaks up on him. It’s weird. Is he dreaming it? Is he being delusional? Why is that he feels that with you, more is said through your silence than words? If so, being under your carefully appraising eye would be an honour.

Chuuya thinks, no no, he knows, he hears you muttering under your breath. He wants to retort, but words don’t find him. Only silence and stillness.

But it doesn’t last any second longer because you scoff in amusement and grab the paperwork regarding the partnership off the spot your father has left behind. Your eyes don’t leave his cerulean ones though. It’s almost as though you’re hyper-focused on him. Or is it the other way around? Maybe it’s mutual?

You do eventually break the stare though, to turn your back and walk out the door, but not before you stop at the edge, bidding goodbye with a lopsided smile and a “Park Hotel, 8pm, seventieth floor.”

Four hours seemed like a lot of time to prepare.

Seemed.

It isn’t.

Because now, at 7.56pm, Chuuya is still staring nervously at himself in the mirror of the hotel bathroom. A flurry of thoughts occupy his state of mind.

Is my tie okay? It’s not lopsided, is it? He thinks about your lopsided smile as he adjusts the black tie set against his red dress shirt. His black coat is replaced by a black fitted blazer. Then he wonders if you’re still in your work outfit.

Damn it, why can’t he get you out of his mind?

You’re a necessary ally, he thinks. That’s why, he convinces himself. Although, not really. If you are just another job, another person the Port Mafia needs to brainwash, then why is he so nervous about this date? His hands freeze in their motions as he questions himself.

Is this what it is? A date?

By 7.59pm he’s up on the seventieth floor, and the moment he steps out of the elevator, an usher tells him to follow. Wow. Having an already established media empire the moment you were born must have been a big bonus for you, hasn’t it? Chuuya imagines you’re spoiled; you’ve lived your whole life with the lavish luxury you currently stand to inherit now. But he gives you due credit. For your father to entrust the dealings of the Port Mafia to you, you must be very capable. Not that he has ever thought otherwise.

In the short hour that he had interacted with you earlier, he knows you’re anything but a bimbo. But you must have thought he was similar to one, huh? What with him being speechless over nothing.

Once he reaches the private room, he’s greeted by you already seated, right leg crossed over your left, fingers flipping through the menu, unfazed by his arrival. The door shuts behind him, and it’s back to this air of oppressed silence. Chuuya slowly glides over to his seat across from you, eating you up from your head down to your little tippy toes. You are less covered up now, your office suit giving way to a remarkably eye-catching black maxi, although he does admit, what catches his eye is that slit that runs up your thigh.

Now, now, you look sexy.

When he settles down, he notices the agreement from this afternoon sitting by the edge of the glass table, all complete save for his and your signatures. The numbers 70 and 30 briefly register in his head. The former, of course, rightfully belonging under you. He furrows his brows. That’s twenty percent lower than what Mori is expecting. How can he negotiate with you, then? What more can he bargain with?

But as he looks up from the document to you, you’re already observing him, wearing a flirty (with a side of smug, as he expects) smile on those lips of yours.

“There’s always a price to pay, Mr. Nakahara.”

Chuuya is slightly baffled. The other workers in your office are boring and own a one-track mind. But evidently you don’t belong in the same group as them.

Is this a game to you?

“Name it.” He does want to know what you’re seeking from him, and he knows he’s not nearly as witty enough to figure it out on his own.

You never give anything away easily though. Chuuya learned that much. Instead of giving answers you lean back on your seat, just as you did earlier, and revert your attention back to the menu.

“So, you are capable of speaking to women after all, huh?”

The rest of the dinner is filled with conversations that don’t pertain to what it should. Instead of discussing the deal, he gets sidetracked, oddly intrigued by what you personally find fascinating. Chuuya remembers that first wave of pleasant surprise wash across your face when he asks about what you like, what you do outside of work. You know, the common exchange. But it must slip his mind that you aren’t used to ‘clients’ taking an interest in you, as a person.

Neither of you realise the abrupt change in the tone of the evening. You both kind of just ease into it.

Chuuya memorises what you tell him; how you actually like what little time you have outside of work; how you talk about books as your escape, the way your favourite author’s name rolls off your tongue so easily even though it’s a foreign name. He notes how your eyes sparkle when he pays you a compliment about how your brain works instead of the usual comments you receive on your appearance. He also loves how you talk just that little bit faster when you’re excited about a topic.

But he also learns how your smile is forced when you talk about your family, or anything remotely related to your work. He notices how you bite your lip when you talk about barely having time to enjoy anything outside of work. And how until now you’ve been a slave to the company, having to learn and grind on knowledge about anything and everything that you need to know to run it. A shut-in with a twist, if he might label it.

Chuuya was wrong then, he realises. Your life has not been one of free rides; easy passes. It didn’t get easier because of who you are. It was the reverse. It got harder because more was expected out of you. Your life at home wasn’t any easier. Turns out your father was, and is still, a tyrant. You’ve never known to enjoy yourself.

“Until tonight.”

Only now does it dawn on Chuuya why you set this whole thing up in the first place. This way you get to have some time to enjoy yourself at a ‘date’ disguised as a business meeting, because then dear daddy won’t get mad at you now, will he? You’ve probably never experienced romance, have you? Given your tight schedules and overbearing parents. Chuuya must be your first.

He gets just slightly giddy thinking of that possibility.

And by the time your plates are cleared and the bill is paid (by your father, apparently, because you grinned and charged it to his credit card; Chuuya thinks it’s acceptable because from what he hears, the director doesn’t seem to be a very good man at all, why not charge it to the man?), he makes his mind up to really help you make full use of your night.

That’s how he finds himself ten minutes later with you standing on the edge of the neighbouring skyscraper, your fingers intertwined tightly with his. Your first exposure to his ability. ‘Holy shit’ were your exact words. Despite how you carry yourself in the office, it’s almost unbelievable how childlike you look now, admiring the sight before you. Losing all your childhood because of who you’re expected to be… Chuuya knows all too well what that feels like. Minus the bond that is family, of course. Although now, he guesses he can call the Port Mafia such.

“Forty.”

Chuuya arches a brow. “Forty?”

You press your lips together to suppress a grin, nodding at him. “Highest I can go for you, Mr. Nakahara.”

“My boss wants a half, though,” Chuuya grimaces in faux sheepishness. Of course Mori would be fine with a forty, but it’s fun having a back-and-forth with you. Or maybe this is his way of convincing himself this is nothing more than continuing a pleasant conversation.

There’s something in your reaction that gets him so curious. It’s how you grin yourself silly and can’t even manage to look him in the eye. Or the way you try to untangle your fingers, only to find Chuuya has gripped them even tighter. He doesn’t even have to ask for you to know what he’s thinking of.

“Fifty is for family only, sorry.”

He waltzes through the narrow corridors and carpeted floors like it’s home. It might as well be, he’s been here about as many times as he’s been to the Port Mafia headquarters in the same duration. It doesn’t look as tacky as it used to. Or is it just because he’s used to it? Or maybe the gradual changes all seem like nothing to him because he visits this place every single day.

Chuuya sighs. No matter, he’s got other things to worry about.

“No, forget about making your own notes. Negotiate. I want exclusivity on this.”

There it is. Your bossy, domineering voice.

He leans by the doorframe. Your subordinates all dub you the ‘boss from hell’. Personally he can’t see why. But then again, you’re an absolute angel to him. (He never gets tired of seeing the shock register on everyone’s faces when they see you be all lovey-dovey with him.)

Feels good. Being the exception.

When the conversation ends, you hang up the phone and turn over, finally noticing your boyfriend by the door. It’s like a switch turns in you; your hostility melts away and those deep downturned lines rotate into a smile. Even now, five years later, you still have a childlike innocence to you; he sees this right now by how you skip towards him like an elated dog seeing its owner is home.

Did he just compare you to a dog…? Out of all the things he likes, why did he — he mentally facepalms himself but shrugs it off. Like he’s said before, he has more pressing matters to think about.

It’s amazing to think how far you both have gotten. From being strictly business to unspoken feelings in a matter of hours, to where you guys are now. Frankly, he didn’t think it was possible for someone like him. He gravitates away and thinks back to the first time he stepped foot in here.

Huh, maybe Mori did know what he was doing after all. That man ended up being your matchmaker. Chuuya inwardly grimaces and shudders and the thought.

But you pull him back to earth.

Your arms snake around his neck and you hook your legs around his waist. Lucky you’re wearing a pantsuit today, because the last time you did that, i.e. yesterday, you were wearing a skirt and it rode up your thigh a little too high. Yeah, Chuuya wasn’t too happy when some of your male coworkers got to see a glimpse of your ass. But he can’t blame you, you were just that excited to see him. Something he finds remarkable given you’ve been together for four years.

“Didn’t think you’d come here this early,” you comment as you get down, your hands still round his neck. “What brings you by, Chuu? Or should I say, future boss of the Port Mafia?”

He gives you a peck on the lips. His nickname falling from your lips just sound so right. You’re right, he usually comes by after you both are done with work. That usually means 8pm onwards. (You both are pretty invested in your companies. Especially now so for Chuuya that he’s been announced a few days ago as the one to take over the mafia in the future.)

“Today I’m here for professional reasons, princess, to offer you a proposal,” Chuuya coos, a gloved thumb grazing over your cheek.

“Hmm?” You look up at him quizzically. “Okay, shoot.”

Chuuya grins at you, his eyes closing and forming into crescents. He opens them slowly as he presses his forehead against yours.

“I think it’s time for that fifty-fifty.”

✢ tags. @yokelish @gogolparadise @fyowyn-writes

[musicprincess655]

“Atsushi-kuuun~”

Atsushi has learned to know when a dangerous tone of voice is sent his way, and the way Dazai just called him is nothing but dangerous.

“Yes, Dazai-san?” Atsushi should’ve run instead of answering.

“You don’t happen to be busy this afternoon, do you?”

Atsushi looks desperately for support. Gin is nowhere to be seen, and Atsushi has to respect her skills, because just a moment ago, she’d been sitting right next to him. He looks to Akutagawa. One side of Akutagawa’s mouth quirks up, but he returns to his book. Traitor.

Atsushi is on his own.

“I’m not doing anything,” Atsushi admits.

“Perfect!” Dazai says, clapping his hands together. “You can come shopping with me and Chuuya.”

Atsushi has an immediate flashback to carrying things around for Yosano. Somehow, he already knows this will be a whole new kind of torture.

“Shopping?” Atsushi asks, laughing uncomfortably. “Shopping for what?”

“Gear, spare parts, anything else Chuuya decides we need while we’re out,” Dazai says, ticking off his fingers. “Clothes, maybe?”

“Nakajima could use new ones,” Chuuya agrees from across the room where he’s moving machine parts around, taking stock of what they have.

“What’s wrong with my clothes?” Atsushi asks, looking down at himself. He’s wearing the same button down-pants-suspenders combo he’s had since he was old enough to start dressing himself.

“Well, I personally don’t see much to complain about, but I can see how someone might,” Dazai says.

“There’s nothing wrong with my clothes!”

That earns him a reaction from both Chuuya and Akutagawa. Chuuya only shoots a pitying look over his shoulder, but Akutagawa snorts into his book.

“Akutagawa, you wear a cravat. You don’t get to make fun of how I dress.”

“You could use some more cold weather clothes,” Dazai cuts in before it can become an argument. “Winters can get harsh here. You don’t even have a proper coat.”

Dazai may have the semblance of a point.

Atsushi has spent plenty of time with Dazai in the months he’s lived here, and plenty of time with both of the Akutagawa siblings. The one member of the household he’s barely spent any time with is Chuuya.

That is partly by circumstance. The minimal work Atsushi does with smuggling only rarely overlaps Chuuya’s, which is largely networking with vendors and others in the West Block and muscle for particularly dangerous runs. They just don’t have much cause to work together, much less one on one.

It’s mostly by choice, though. Atsushi has been a little scared of Chuuya since they met and Chuuya was obviously not what he seemed. He’s heavier, denser than expected, and his strength makes itself known every time he moves. Chuuya could crush anyone with barely any effort, and it shows in how he carries himself. He’s intimidating, and Atsushi is sure that isn’t an accident.

Not that Atsushi thinks Chuuya would ever hurt him. Atsushi has never really examined that, actually. He just knows that Chuuya intimidates him in a way neither the Akutagawa siblings nor Dazai ever have.

“So! Are you coming?” Dazai asks. Atsushi doesn’t feel like he has much of a choice.

“Sure.”

Dazai walks between Atsushi and Chuuya all the way into town, past the shacks on the outside to the taller buildings closer to the center, until it looks less like a slum and more like a city fallen on hard times. Atsushi and Chuuya only pipe in every so often, and Dazai seems content to let them phone the conversation in.

“Oh wait!” Atsushi’s sudden burst of curiosity overwhelms the awkwardness he feels with both Dazai and Chuuya. “If you’re smugglers, why do you need to buy this stuff? Can’t you steal it yourselves?”

“If we’re lucky, usually,” Chuuya says. “That can be a little hit or miss, though, and for some gear, we’re looking for specific stuff. At this point, it’s easier to buy things we need than try to hunt them down ourselves.”

“Like what?”

“Gin thinks she’s almost got the gun figured out, so she needs some really specific parts,” Dazai says. “And replacement parts for the rats Akutagawa uses are finicky little pieces. They’re hard to find on our own.”

“Plus, we don’t usually steal clothes,” Chuuya follows up. “Not a hugely profitable item. But obviously we need them for ourselves.”

“Makes sense,” Atsushi nods.

“And that takes us to our first stop,” Dazai says. It’s a proper storefront this far into the West Block, and it’s almost comforting when the bell over the door chimes. It makes the place seem so normal, like it could be any store in a forgotten corner of No. 6. “If you see old man Hirotsu around, he’s usually happy to help. And he’s good at collecting the weird stuff. We’re looking for parts like this.”

Dazai hands Atsushi a paper with hand drawn pictures on it.

“These are really good,” Atsushi says.

“Akutagawa has some skills,” Dazai says. “The ones on top are for him, the ones on bottom are for Gin. If you find one, hold onto it and bring it to us.”

Dazai leaves Atsushi with the paper and disappears between stacks of merchandise. Atsushi looks at the drawings again. If these are for finicky parts for the Akutagawa siblings, they’re probably small. He’ll have his work cut out for him trying to sort through these stacks, without even a guarantee that there’s something to find.

Atsushi manages to find one of the parts for Gin tucked into an old set of drawers, but it would take him weeks to search this whole shop from top to bottom, and he thinks that might be the point.

He was hoping he’d be able to find a part for the rats, though. Rashomon has something wrong with his leg, and he’s walking funny now. Akutagawa can only really use the other two for runs to No. 6 now, keeping Rashomon close to someone if Akutagawa is going to keep an eye out for them. It’s a small issue, but Atsushi knows it’s frustrating Akutagawa. The rats are his whole thing, and if he loses one, he loses a set of eyes, and it makes his job that much harder.

He’s been tinkering anyway, staying up late and keeping a lamp burning so he can work. It’s enough to keep Rashomon from breaking down entirely, but just barely. The light had shone in Atsushi’s eyes last night, waking him up, and he’d rolled over in his blankets to watch Akutagawa work, fingers fast and far more nimble than they seemed when still. They had been entrancing, hypnotizing, and Atsushi had sat awake watching until Akutagawa growled in frustration and shut the light off.

Maybe that was a strange thing for Atsushi to have done. As far as he knows, Akutagawa never knew he was awake. Atsushi had deliberately kept himself still, trying not to attract attention, because he didn’t want Akutagawa to notice, didn’t want him to stop.

It’s little things like this that catch Atsushi’s eye now. Little proofs of Akutagawa’s life around killing and violence. The way he can repair delicate machinery, the way he can use the rats to see without seeing, to guide them. He claims it’s not a skill to be proud of, but Atsushi disagrees. It’s more of an art than anything else, and Akutagawa does it beautifully.

Ever since Atsushi had the thought that Akutagawa is beautiful, that he wants to live in a world where Akutagawa is by his side, he can’t stop noticing things. Like the way Akutagawa’s bangs have grown so long with Gin hiding the razor that they brush the tops of his eyes. Like the way he sits, leaned against one hand, looking nearly regal. Like the way his eyes soften late at night, far too late for any of them to be awake, bright silver in the low light, shimmering and light.

Atsushi has never noticed so many things about a person before. And if it was just a simple attraction, he thinks it would be easier to deal with. But the thing is, it’s not.

Because Atsushi didn’t start noticing these things until after he and Akutagawa became…something. Friends seems not quite right, not with the anger between them, not with the threats and the ultimatums. Not when they’ve hurt each other the way they both have.

But he and Akutagawa are something, and it means that Atsushi only knows what Akutagawa’s eyes look like when they’re tired because they were both up far too late, debating the merits of destroying No. 6, an argument that hadn’t ended up being much of anything because they both got too tired to pursue it. He knows the way Akutagawa sits because they can spend time together in peace, and they do. Atsushi spends more time alone with Akutagawa than with anyone else, and they haven’t had a real fight since before Atsushi issued his ultimatum. He notices the difference in Akutagawa’s hair length because he helps Gin hide the razor to keep Akutagawa from cutting it all off in a fit of temper.

Atsushi only started noticing Akutagawa because of who Akutagawa is. Anything Atsushi’s mind labels as beautiful is intrinsically tied to a memory they share. It’s still attraction, but it’s so much harder to parse this way, and Atsushi isn’t sure how to begin trying.

“Oh, Atsushi-kun, you found something?” Dazai asks. In his haze of thinking, Atsushi has wandered back over to Dazai and Chuuya.

“I think so,” Atsushi says, handing it over. “I’m not really sure what I’m supposed to be looking for.”

“We’ll send Akutagawa and Gin with you next time,” Dazai says. “If they know what they need, they can come find it themselves.”

“We got most of what we were looking for, though,” Chuuya says, holding up a bag. Atsushi can see a few knifes, a few belts, and some other various things he can’t identify without seeing them better. “Let’s just pay for what you found, and we’ll be on our way.”

The next store they visit is a clothing store, and Atsushi really should have known better than to think they were kidding about this. It wouldn’t make him uncomfortable, necessarily, except this is obviously about him, not Chuuya and Dazai, and to make matters worse, Dazai disappears once again with a call of Chuuya is better at this than me!

Which just leaves Atsushi, Chuuya, and a shopkeeper who can’t read the sudden tension.

“Hey, Nakajima.” Atsushi jumps, dropping the sweater he was half-heartedly examining. “Why are you scared of me?”

“I’m not…” Atsushi trails off as Chuuya raises an eyebrow. “You’re just…really strong?”

“That’s it?” Chuuya asks. He almost looks disappointed. “That’s all it takes to scare you?”

“No, but…”

Atsushi sighs as he tries to put into words the idea that Chuuya might have never threatened Atsushi, but sometimes, when Atsushi’s mind starts running away with itself, it doesn’t take much. Chuuya is built like a tank and sometimes when he stomps, it leaves a crater. Chuuya is just so loud, both his voice and his personality. Everything about him screams that he can take care of himself, and fuck anyone who tries to prove otherwise.

Then, of course, there’s the fact that they’ve almost never had a conversation. Everything Atsushi knows about him is from someone else. In Atsushi’s anxious mind, that’s enough to make Chuuya scary.

“You’d do anything to protect them, wouldn’t you?” Atsushi asks. He doesn’t have to say anything to let Chuuya know who he means.

Atsushi isn’t sure if he counts as part of the them.

“If you’re asking if I see you as a threat to my family, Nakajima, the answer is no,” Chuuya says. “You’d have done something already if you were going to. Besides, you care about them too. I’m willing to bet you’d do almost as much as me, if they were in danger.”

“That might be true,” Atsushi admits. Even though it was a rocky start, Dazai, Gin, and even Akutagawa count as family for him now. And he’s starting to think that should really expand to include Chuuya, too. “They can protect themselves, though.”

“I wonder sometimes about Akutagawa, but it’s not his fault Dazai’s the one that taught him to throw a punch,” Chuuya says. Atsushi snorts. “I guess Dazai did teach him something useful, though.”

“The rats?” Atsushi asks. “I though he learned that all on his own.”

“I was thinking more generally for a support role,” Chuuya says. “You’re good for him. You finally proved to him he doesn’t have to be strong to protect us. That’s good enough reason for you to stay as long as you like, as far as I’m concerned.”

“If you say so,” Atsushi says. It’s hard to be scared of someone who cares so openly about his family, especially since he seems to be considering adding Atsushi to that group just as much as Atsushi is considering the same for him.

Chuuya will not stop being loud just by existing, and Atsushi will not stop being anxious, but he doubts things like that have ever stopped either of them before.

“Alright, we should actually find you a coat,” Chuuya says, turning back to the piles of clothes in front of them. “Dazai wasn’t kidding about how hard winters can get. Find something lined with fur if you can.”

“What, so Akutagawa can call me Jinko again?”

“It had a nice ring to it.”

Atsushi huffs a laugh and starts to sort through, looking for anything likely. He’s about to make another comment to Chuuya when his hands fall on something white.

“Where did you get this?”

Atsushi can hear how his voice has changed, but he doesn’t stop, not even when Chuuya steps over cautiously, asking him what’s wrong.

“Did you find something you like?” the shopkeeper asks, not yet realizing the fury suddenly raging in Atsushi’s chest.

“Where did you get this?” he repeats, shoving the scarf out in front of him.

The same scarf Lucy always wears on her head.

It shouldn’t be something he recognizes on sight, but Lucy has always worn the same scarf, and Atsushi recognizes little touches of her embroidery on the edges, a touch of something pretty all her own.

“It’s just…” the shopkeeper looks at Chuuya for help. “Most of these are from the Correctional Facility in No. 6. They’re just thrown away, we don’t steal them from anyone.”

Atsushi’s mind whirls. He settles on a memory from yesterday. Akutagawa lying to him, the only time Atsushi knows for sure he was lying, and it was after Atsushi asked for news from the detective agency.

Akutagawa must have gotten a message about Lucy.

Atsushi drops the scarf, heading for the door.

“Oi, Nakajima, what are you-?”

“I have to go back to the bunker,” Atsushi says. His hands clench into fists. “I need to talk to Akutagawa.”

[misstinfoilhat]

Whumptober 2019 #16: Scars- Bungou Stray Dogs

This is part 2 of this ----

“How can you do this to yourself?” Kunikida asked, deep in shock. Obviously, Dazai had been hiding something under his bandages. Self-mutilation had always been a distinct possibility, but not in his wildest dreams had Kunikida ever thought that it would be this bad. Nobody should be able to hurt themselves to this extent.

It should not be humanly possible, but then again...

A chill went down Kunkida's spine as he realized for the first time how the name of Dazai's ability actually seemed to fit the distraught man in front of him, in some sick, distorted kind of way. 

Maybe the idea of being in possession of no longer human was what fueled him, manipulating his body and mind into enduring these horrible actions which any sound mind should be unable to commit against oneself.

A faint shake of the head was the only response he could get out of the lethargic man and Kunikida decided to let it be for now.

If he pushed him too hard, it would only end in disaster. Even if Dazai always seemed to worm his way back to life, into the same annoyingly carefree and chipper 'bandage-wasting-suicidal-maniac' (which somehow had become a term of endearment around the agency) he usually was- this situation right here, right now, felt different.

It was real and right in front of him and uncensored and absolutely heart-wrenching.

So Kunikida kept quiet and continued cleaning out the wounds, using strips or stitching them together before covering them with excessive amounts of gauze while his thoughts were spiraling out of control about the days leading up to this...

...which had been utterly uneventful. Nothing to warn them of what was to come at all.

They had been just like any other days, weeks or months, with Dazai doing slightly dangerous things around the office, declaring them as possible suicide methods while wearing a huge grin on his face. Or, shamelessly getting down on his knees in front of any woman in his proximity that he deemed worthy, begging them to commit double suicide with him.

Teasing, agonizing Kunikida to no end, abrupting his thoroughly planned out schedule just to get a reaction- which Kunikida always would give him.

Pretending that Ranpo wasn't fiercely competitive towards him- letting the abilityless (and just a bit clueless), but never the less genius, detective solve several puzzles Dazai himself likely had been able to figure out the second he had laid his eyes on them.

And the way Dazai was huddled up in the corner of the room like a ferocious animal when Kunikida had come in...

“Who did you think I was?” Kunikida finally asked carefully. Dazai bearly stirred.

“Hm?” Dazai hummed, still a long way from his bathroom in his mind. But, he finally seemed to be waking up from the hypnotic daze he had been trapped inside.

“When I came in... You seemed to think I was someone else.”

“Oh.”

Dazai was weary and pale, probably from blood loss and sleeplessness. Kunikida had just begun to sew shut yet another gash on his arm, but the stinging, throbbing sensations that radiated from the self-inflicted wounds exceded far beyond Kunikida's precise stitches.

“I- I'm not sure,” Dazai answered sincerely, winching a little as Kunikida tied the first stitch at the next laceration.

“Sorry,” Kunikida muttered quietly, but Dazai only waved it off as not a big deal.

“I think I was somewhere else, in my mind, I mean,” Dazai explained before he scoffed drearily. “When you let yourself in, I was looking for a weapon I haven't borne in 5 years.”

At that, Kunikida raised an interested eyebrow, but continued his work meticulously all the while, hoping that his cryptic partner might continue this rarety of opening up if he didn't interfere too much.

Of course, Dazai didn't, which wasn't too surprising considering that he was the same man who had managed to keep his past position as one of the most powerful (not to mention dangerous) people of the Japanese underworld a secret for years. A position he had reached when he was still just a teenager.

How this suicidal, manically depressed goofball could manage such a thing, was something Kunikida would never be able to truly comprehend. It was likely something none of them would ever understand- they would never know how a scrawny child with a death wish had ended up as an executive in one of the most feared gangs in the world.

The only person in possession of those answers was currently seated on a toilet seat in front of him, bleeding from countless lacerations reaching from his throat to the soles of his feet.

So, Kunikida decided that he couldn't pounder on that part of Dazai's past anymore. It was simply too bizarre, and even if Dazai clearly was very haunted, maybe focusing on who Dazai was now- not who he used to be, could somehow pull him out of this self-destructive apathy.

Or maybe it's not Kunikida who needs to stop thinking of Dazai as a monster.

Kunikida cleared his throat, catching Dazai's glassy eyes that had previously stared blindly into his lap.

“Dazai, I know I might be the last person you'd want to hear something like this from, but I'm going to say it anyway... You have to stop blaming yourself for... whatever it is that's tearing you apart. You need to stop living in the past and start looking forward to the future... The past is clearly eating you alive, but the future just might save you.”

Dazai only looked at him. For a long time, while a small, pained smile slowly tugged at the corner of his mouth. Dejected, he let his hair fall in front of his eyes, and something in his expression shifted.

“Of course, Kunikida-kun... I have to stop dwelling on the past and focus on the future. It all makes sense now,” he murmured in an eery whisper, bitterness, and animosity dripping off his tongue like blood from a blade.

Like the blood, dripping from Dazai's hands, arms, legs, feet, torso, hips, chest, neck... Kunikida was clearly over his head in gaping wounds.

“Dazai...” Kunikida started to say, but Dazai jerked his head back up. Exhausted yet fiercely focused, half-lidded eyes peered holes through Kunikida, almost startling the usually stoic man out of his kneeled stance in front of him, needle still between two pieces of flesh, ready to tie it back together.

“No, you're absolutely right. If I just stop thinking about it, it will all go away. I will win back my will to live. This aching, gnawing, harrowing emptiness that makes me utterly unable to feel a single thing except for unbearable guilt, will just disappear! The loved ones of those I've tortured and killed will finally be at peace! It won't matter that I've orphaned countless children and simultaneously been the sole reason that the only man that could've saved them was killed-” his voice broke off in an abrupt, pained choke.

Trying to brace himself, he inhaled a sharp shuddering breath. Carefully exhaling, everything shattered again and he was left heaving on the toilet seat, somewhere in between a sob and hyper-ventilating.

“Shit, Dazai... I didn't mean...” Kunikida quickly finished the stitch he had been working on and cut the thread. He backed up, giving the struggling man some space.

“...do you really want to know why I do this to myself?” Dazai asked venomously, crouched down on himself in a way that Kunikida couldn't decide reminiscent a hug or a straight-jacket.

“It's my punishment. These are all my sins. No matter how many scars that litter my body, it will never be enough...” His voice was shaking, fragile and small, struggling to bear.

“I can't keep count of them, just like I lost count of all the people I've hurt... how many families I've destroyed... So, I wear these scars on my sleeves as a constant reminder of what I've done, and it will never be enough... Not until it kills me.”

Kunikida wanted to say something, anything.

...but what was there to say, really? Kunikida knew a thing or two about regret, that much was true. Still, what Dazai had done... What good was a regretful sinner to anyone? Or a dead sinner, for argument's sake...

It wouldn't change the past. It wouldn't change his wrongdoings.

“At least, you're helping people now, Dazai. It won't cancel all the other things out, but it does count for something.”

“...do you know what the worst part is, Kunikida?” Dazai asked, seemingly ignoring the blonde's attempt of encouragement.

“...the worst part is, that... even if what you say is true...” 

He was unable to finish that sentence the way he intended.

Again, Dazai choked on his words. He cleared his throat, fighting back tears (because he didn't deserve to cry- didn't deserve to grieve or morn or feel fucking sorry for himself-) before he was able to force out in a pained whisper, “...it won't bring him back.”

Kunikida had come closer now, leaning down with his hands hovering insecurely over Dazai's battered body, wanting, but lacking the courage to place the comforting touch he so wanted to set on his partner's shoulder.

Suddenly, Dazai yanked his head back up. His expression was tight, and he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood. His irises seemed to wobble from unshed tears as he grabbed onto the taller man's shirt.

At the blink of an eye, literally, Dazai's body betrayed him. One tear fell, two tears fell, and finally, the flood gates opened.

Kunikida stared horrified, paralyzed by the rare sight. Dazai was showing real, unfiltered emotions.

Quickly, the idealist shook himself out of his stupified immobilization and pulled the trembling man in, locking his arms around him tightly.

Dazai cried silently. The only sound coming from him was an occasional shuddering heave for air, and Kunikida only tightened his grip around him, whispering repeatedly in his ear that it was okay.

------------------

Kunikida came around his car to help Dazai out. He had reluctantly agreed to use the crutches that Kunikida had found inside the closet in Dazai's bedroom, to ease the pressure on his newly stitched feet. It had been the strict condition for driving him out here instead of to the infirmary.

Dazai stood, heavily leaned on them and peered over the graveyard he had lead them to. Kunikida stood beside him, trying to follow his gaze, which guided him towards an old, weeping willow. Its branches leaned tiredly over a sole gravestone at the absolute edge of the site, with a beautiful outlook over the ocean.

Dazai started to hobble his way towards the tree, the snow dancing around him like angles in an ethereal snowball fight before Kunikida was able to shake himself out of his musings and hurried to catch up to his partner.

“Wait up,” he said, raising his voice slightly before catching up to him. Dazai really didn't need to slow down- the trail was icy and Dazai was clearly struggling to make his way, with the crutches slipping off the path now and then- leaving him looking unstable and clumsy.

But, he didn't look back. He soldiered forward, aimed intently at the modest gravestone under the beautiful tree.

Once there, Dazai let himself crumble to the ground in front of it, reaching inside his pocket and pulling out a lighter. Using his bare hands, he dug out a small lantern from under the snow, and re-lit the light inside of it.

It immediately illuminated their surroundings, giving their evocative spot in the dim graveyard a serene, celestial glow.

Kunikida curiously leaned over to read the writing on the stone. It said Oda Sakunosuke- born October 26th, died January 10th...

...oh.

Reading further, the engraving read in beautiful cursive, “Be on the side that saves people. If both sides are the same, become a good man. Save the weak, and protect the orphans.”

Suddenly, he understood the significance this man had had on Dazai's life.

“It was his last words,” Dazai said calmly, apparently noticing Kunikida reading. “He is the reason I left the Port Mafia, to spend my life in the light.”

Kunikida nodded, captivated by the moment.

“You truly cared about this man, didn't you?” Kunikida stated severely. Dazai gave him a curt nod and concentrated his attention back to the tomb.

“He was a good man,” Dazai confirmed solemnly.

“I'm sure.”

“He...” Dazai started to say, but cut himself off.

Kunikida kept standing behind, watching the wind tearing at his partner's clothes, ruffling his hair in the frigid winter-breeze.

“...yes,” Dazai finally continued. “He was... He was too good for this world.”

The snow shifted behind him. Kunikida lowered into the snow by Dazai's side.

Together, they sat there in comfortable silence, quietly honoring the man's life on the anniversary of his death.

The air was chilly, and Kunikida felt the snow soaking through his trousers, but he was going to keep sitting there for as long as Dazai needed.

After some time, Dazai reached into his pocket and took out a small flask. He opened it, muttering a quiet “Kenpai',” and poured out a small amount onto his friend's grave, before bringing it to his own lips, taking a sip. He passed it along to Kunikida- who was driving, but still accepted it. “Kenpai,” Kunikida repeated with a nod, gesturing towards the grave in a small toast.

The whiskey burned on its way down his throat, warming him up a little.

After their drink, Dazai was finally starting to get up, and Kunikida hurried to his feet to help him out. He handed the crutches over to him and turned to leave.

Dazai stayed back for a moment, smiling faintly at his friends final resting place.

“See you soon, Odasaku,” he murmured silently, bowing his head in respect before following Kunikida's lead.

Kunikida didn't want to think about what he might have meant by that.

Calmly, they walked back towards the car, side by side. Dazai still struggled a bit but was keeping Kunikida's pace never the less.

“Thank you,” Kunikida uttered suddenly, and stopped. Confused, Dazai tilted his head and peered back at him.

“For what?”

“For showing me this. I really appreciate it. I know it's... sacred.”

Dazai lowered his gaze for a moment, before a sad sort of smile appeared on his lips.

“Oda deserves for people to know what a great man he was. I should be better about that, huh?”

Kunikida shrugged. “Maybe so, but I think an even better way to honor his memory, is to stop disappearing for days and hurting yourself. I didn't know Sakunosaku-san, but if he's half the man you claim him to be, I'm sure he wouldn't want that for you.”

Considering this for a moment, Dazai nodded his agreement as if it was a thought that had never occurred to him before.

“Yeah, you're probably right...”

“None of us do,” Kunikida pressed on.

They had arrived back at the car now. Dazai got in, while Kunikida ushered the crutches in the back before getting into the driver's seat.

Longingly, Dazai stared out of the window as they pulled out from the parking lot in front of the graveyard, heading back towards the solitude and pressing atmosphere of the dormitories. 

Somehow, Dazai dreaded it, afraid that his head would spiral back into that dark space. He already envisioned ripping open the countless amount of stitches one by one, fixating the pain from his inside to the outside of his body- letting crimson liquid escape, reminding him of the many screams of his defenseless victims as he stomped their heads onto the pavement and-

“Don't.”

A hand was placed on top of his own, and he realized that he was subconsciously picking at his stitches over the bandages. Dazai blinked several times, surprised that he had let his mask slip.

Kunikida sighed audibly.

“I'm sorry,” Dazai muttered, parting his hands.

“Don't apologize, just... Just don't do that.”

Ashamed of himself, embarrassed about his slip-up, Dazai kept quiet for a long time. The silence in the car felt pressing and uncomfortable- and Kunikida racked his brain for something to say. He didn't want to leave Dazai alone with his thoughts for too long.

“...if you don’t, I'll tape oven mitts to your hands, like a toddler with chickenpox.”

Dazai snorted, willingly taking the bait. 

“Actually, picking at your stitches soften the skin and make it scar less,” Dazai proclaimed matter of factly.

Kunikida side-glanced at his bandaged partner, for once, understanding where this was going-

“You should probably write that down,” Dazai smirked knowingly, receiving a chuckle in response, and a light smack across the head.