#also the thought of Dazai being responsible for another human being is amusing to me

[dvzaiosamu]

Bubble Tea while watching TV — soukoku.

University/Colleges Chuuya and Dazai :3 They're roommates and live together in a dorm. Dazai being the lazy mf that annoys Chuuya for fun and Chuuya is a simple man that lives tranquility, minding his own buissness, trying his best to avoid Dazai's stupid antics.

About: Chuuya and Dazai are going to watch a TV film while drinking bubble tea, and that's it, it's going to be fluff and their silly interactions.

Dusk was falling quickly; The orange, yellowish colors were reflected in the sky, some flying seagulls emitting their characteristic noises from their throats. There was a moon although night had not yet fallen, and it was strange, since the moon must always appear once the sun sets, the moon reflects the light of the Sun enough to be seen at all times, that is why it usually appears during the day or at dusk.

A few more hours and night would fall. Bright stars will appear, small dots in the black sky, the moon will also appear in one of its phases, weakly illuminating the asphalt streets.

Chuuya Nakahara, bored with waiting for his partner, Dazai Osamu, collapses on the couch, falling flat on his face, a sigh leaving his mouth as he turns to look at the white ceiling. At that moment he was wearing a fossil gray shirt and raven black shorts, a plain outfit to be in his bedroom, it would be unusual for other people who are unaware of the ginger-haired young man's personal details, since Chuuya almost always dresses fashionable and designer clothing with good quality.

Chuuya has his black-cased cell phone next to him and chooses to think for a few moments if he should really call Dazai, but what a stupid idea! He would never call his stupid partner just for something so simple, only if it was something crucially important or… he was just drunk. Chuuya puts his hand to his head and rubs his temples, with a grunt, still not knowing if he should pay attention to his already eminent anger, but he stops to think: Is it really worth getting angry over something so insignificant?

He takes his cell phone and looks for Dazai's contact, which he has saved as "Blue Mackerel", a slight smile appears on his lips, oh what a funny nickname, who would have thought that of all the nicknames that a human being can give another, Chuuya would choose the name of a fish.

His finger presses the call button, and immediately there is no immediate response, the repetitive sound of a toot…toot… with interspersed pauses fills the deafening silence of the room.

Finally, Dazai answers.

"Hello, shorty? Did you miss me?" Osamu's irritatingly mocking voice makes Chuuya question himself why he decided to call him in the first place.

"No, not at all, you think you're very special, believe me you're not," Chuuya responds in a firm tone, looking at the ceiling while holding his cell phone to his ear. "I just wanted to see where the hell you were, it's been a while and you still haven't come with the two fucking bubble teas I ordered."

"You know, I'm no servant, Chuuya," his voice drops flat, and a bored tone makes its presence known. "I'm on my way, don't worry so much... I'm just getting into the elevator."

Then he will arrive in less than three minutes, what almost zero relief on Chuuya's face.

Nakahara hangs up and drops his cell phone on the couch.

It wasn't going take long for Dazai to arrive, and Chuuya didn't think it was that bad either, since the series they were going to watch hadn't started yet, there were still ten minutes left, for now there were only advertisements and boring things that only stupid people would watch and actually enjoy.

Knock Knock..

That sound makes Chuuya stand up and sit on the couch, looking slightly defiant before shouting,

"Are you telling me you didn't take the keys to open the door, you idiot?"

"Stop blaming me and open the door! It's winter cold here in the hallway!" is heard on the other side of the door.

Chuuya sighs and with an amused smile he gets up to open the door, finding Dazai's pouty face with a worried expression. "Really... I should have left you out here freezing, I mean, who goes out in shorts, a baggy t-shirt and a coat? If it weren't for the fact that I need that drink because of my appetite, I wouldn't let you in."

"You're so cruel... You hurt my poor feelings, it's not my fault you made me go out like that and didn't even let me change," he complains, gently pushing Chuuya out of the way, taking off his shoes off and leaving them at the entrance. Chuuya frowns.

"You're so whiny," Chuuya replies, rolling his eyes. "Leave the drinks on the table and hurry up if you want to watch the fucking show."

Chuuya closes the door behind him and sits on the couch while he watches as Dazai leaves the bag with the two drinks on the table in front of the television and in a few moments he takes them out of the bag and leaves them on the table, throwing away the plastic bag. He then takes off his beige coat and places it on the coat rack, stretching slightly before flopping down on the couch.

Nakahara then checks the time on his phone. It's six minutes until the series starts, with a small yawn he puts his phone aside to grab his puppy-print blanket and wrap it around himself, and Dazai grimaces.

"Do you really use that thing? They're dogs," he keeps that disgusted face until Chuuya glares at him.

"Do you have a problem with them?"

"Many!"

Chuuya sighs. "Then freeze to death."

"Sometimes you really make me do horrible things," Frowning, he covers himself with the same blanket, sharing it.

The ginger-haired smirks. "Funny."

And that's when Chuuya wants to drink his drink to stab it with the sharp plastic straw and start drinking when Dazai leans sharply towards him to hug him and give him many smooches that Chuuya tries to avoid with his hands while frowning.

"What the fuck do you want... Let go of me," the ginger-haired man complains, raising his hands to his face and avoiding Dazai's affectionate attacks. "You've reached your kiss limit in the morning..."

"Let me show you my love, don't be a bad dog," trying to fight Chuuya's insistence on not being kissed, he lifts him back to his original position and simply rests his head on Chuuya's shoulder with a whine, giving up.

With a long sigh, Chuuya, still frowning, decides to kiss him on the head and then gently caress his already messy hair. "You're such a pain in the ass."

Dazai's embrace tightens, and Chuuya removes Dazai's hands from his torso this time, before finally managing to grab his still-cold drink and stick the straw into it, without difficulty or causing disaster. Seeing that the series has already started, but he had to wait for the intro to finish, he silently takes a sip, enjoying the taste almost casually.

It's Dazai's turn, he grabs his drink, with a smile he stabs it with the straw, although he splashes a few drops on both of his and Chuuya's face. Chuuya glances at him from the corner of his eye, glaring, and Dazai first wipes the sweet liquid off his face, glancing at Chuuya before reaching out to lick one of the drops, making Chuuya feel disgusted.

"You're fucking disgusting."

"But you love me," taking advantage of the approach, he gently kisses Chuuya's lips, before smirking.

"Actually hate you," he corrects.

"Rude much, lying won't fool anyone."

In response, he receives a glare from the shorter one and an audible sigh.

Chuuya's eyes stare at the series that had just started with a girl and her long-haired chihuahua, Chuuya's eyes light up slightly as he smiles. He goes back to drinking his drink.

"Hey, look, that's you!" Dazai points his finger at the screen, mockingly.

"Fuck you..." he curses under his breath.

Even after Dazai's unnecessary comments, Chuuya tries to enjoy the series even with an annoying man by his side.

Just when the young man thinks he's going to have a moment of calm without Dazai interrupting his viewing, a sound snaps him out of his mind.

Slurp.

Dazai slurps his drink loudly.

"Are you fucking kidding me..." Chuuya grumbles, a molest tone on his voice as he puts his free hand on his forehead.

"What's wrong?" Dazai asks, innocently.

"You're the wrong. God damnit, can't you just dip the damn straw deeper instead of bearly touch the liquid with that stupid straw? You are interrupting my favorite series," he complains.

"Good to know," Osamu smiles and, even though he doesn't seem to care about making noise, he still unconsciously sinks the straw to the bottom, eating some tapioca balls in the process.

Minutes pass and everything seems to relax, no sound other than the one that comes out of the episode is heard. For Chuuya it was very entertaining, although for Dazai it was more boring than watching a snail move, in fact he was the one who had finished his bubble tea first, leaving it empty, there was not even a ball of tapioca, he simply left it on the table while he boredly struggled not to fall asleep right there.

More minutes passed like this, until there was not much more time left until the episode of that series ended. The ginger-haired man watched attentively, not paying attention to the fact that he had a sleeping beauty asleep next to him. Chuuya didn't really care if Dazai was watching the episode or not, he just wanted to see how young Molly took care of her little dog.

Just as the credits of the episode rolled, Chuuya had already finished his drink, leaving it next to Dazai's, and with a yawn he rubbed one of his eyes, turning to see and find Dazai sleeping about to fall on top of him.

It was to be hoped that Dazai wasn't completely asleep, otherwise there would have no other explanation for this, a Dazai who had just slid on top of Chuuya. With a sigh, he has no choice but to tolerate and him and his hands clinging to his waist, wrapping his arms around him in a warm embrace that Chuuya found not pleasant at all.

Still, he also can't shake the warm feeling inside his heart that perhaps forces him to not be so rude to Dazai. Chuuya decides to move so he's lying down and somehow forces Dazai to curl up next to him, still holding him possessively. With sleepy eyes, he decides to hug Dazai back and kiss him on the forehead with tenderness. "Good night... Dazai."

And for sure Chuuya would be in denial when he wakes up that he ever kissed Dazai's forehead.

The night envolpes the two of them with the warmth of their bodies.

I don't know if I did right Dazai's and Chuuya's relationship slightly accurate... You guys tell me.

[yo-anna0315]

Soukoku and a kiddo HCs

Some of this might refer to my own OC rather than just any kid, but anyway Dazai is still with the ADA, Chuuya is either the mafia boss or still an exec under Mori.

Chuuya has a fondness for stray kids and Dazai is impartial to orphans because of Odasaku, but neither of them plan on having kids or adopting because wow they have hectic lives and they themselves are very chaotic.

They’re also doing this new thing called can we have a functional relationship with each other?  This includes Chuuya not turning to alcoholic tendencies every time he gets overwhelmed and Dazai not attempting to actively kill himself without going to Chuuya or someone else first, and the both of them trying to open up and trust each other more outside of combat.  

Chuuya is probably walking home to one of his safehouses late at night, and some street kid comes and pickpockets him.  And GETS AWAY with it.  Chuuya is just shocked because excuse??? Some runt just came and picked his pocket???  He’s more amazed that someone would dare to pick his pocket and succeed rather than be annoyed.  Well damn.  The kid didn’t take anything important, just a bit of pocket change so Chuuya doesn’t care.  But he’s impressed.  

Dazai finds out when Chuuya mentions it over dinner and he’s DYING of laughter.  He wants to meet this kid.

“Chibi got mugged!”  “I didn’t get mugged, you asshole!  I just said they stole some pocket change!”  “Ah, Chibikko’s losing his touch.  “You bastard!”

So Dazai does what Dazai does best and finds the kid without Chuuya even telling him a single thing.  

“All I do is check the security cam footage you have around the safehouse, but that must be too big for your sheepdog brain to handle.”

The kid is a little snappy at first because who the fuck is this bandaged wearing idiot asking if they stole something.  They live on the STREETS, what DON’T they steal?  And then it clicks that they stole from a Port Mafia Executive.  And Not just ANY PM Exec, they stole from the Gravity Manipulator.  

The kid: “haha I’m in danger”

Dazai catches them and brings them back to Chuuya’s apartment and the kid is freaking out because oh my god, I’m going to lose my hand for stealing.  Or worse!  And Dazai is just so happy, what an asshole

“Chibi!”  “What do you want, asshole?”  “Look!”  “Did you KIDNAP a fucking child!”  “No, this is kid who stole from you, remember?  The one who mugged you and stole your cash!”  “You kidnapped a child.”

At this point the kid is in hysterics because why is he so happy?  What’s going on?  Are they going to die???  And then Chuuya, always the one with manners, is like I’m sorry my asshole boyfriend kidnapped you, can I make it up to you with dinner and a shower?

They’re not going to turn down free gifts, but they are extremely on edge.  But Chuuya is a great cook and his shower is luxurious because he knows how to treat himself right (unlike a certain mackerel).  

So the kid takes a shower first because hot water is utterly delightful and should never be wasted, they have two bowls of ramen and rice with nori sheets because hunger.  Chuuya is appreciative because at least someone appreciates the hard work he puts into his food.  Dazai is secretly relieved because he won’t have to eat the leftovers and he can just eat canned crab without feeling guilty.

Dinner and a shower turns into a night on the lounge in the study in safety and comfort, which turns into breakfast in the morning, which turns into dinner every few months and the cycle repeats until Dazai spills sake on the lounge and insists that the kid move into the spare bedroom for the night.

This kid is like okay wtf.  Chuuya is exasperated, Dazai is scheming.  Chuuya makes them have a sit down conversation because he’s trying to be better and the kid doesn’t need more dysfunction in their life.  They extend an open invitation for the kid to come by whenever they want.

“Or you could just stay, it’s not like we’re not used to you at this point.  And you haven’t run away screaming from us so we haven’t messed up yet.”  “Dazai… what the fuck.” 

Dazai and Chuuya agree to keep the kid away from the mafia, mostly Mori because Mori could use the kid as leverage over both Chuuya and Dazai and thas no bueno.  (If Chuuya’s the mafia boss then he’ll probably keep the kid away from the mafia, unless they want in then he’ll sit down with them and have a talk to make sure they know what they’re getting into).  So, Dazai gets a little shadow that just kind of loiters around the ADA.

Dazai trades completed paperwork for tutoring lessons from Kunikida when he has time, Yosano teaches them anatomy and basic first aid, Atsushi, Ranpo, Tanizaki, Naomi and Kenji get a new friend.  Fukuzawa sometimes spends time enlightening the kid about politics and strategy and history, or watches over the kid when Dazai has to work on a case.  

Kouyou finds out about the kid on accident and whisks the kid away to teach them etiquette and class and spoils them with shopping.  Despite her loyalty to Mori, her fondness of Chuuya keeps her from outing the kid to the Boss.

At home, Chuuya teaches the kid martial arts and if they have an ability then Chuuya and Dazai team up to coach the kid through developing their power whatever it may be.  Dazai also teaches the kid how to pick locks and psychology, like how to read body language, how to lie, how to get the truth from someone.

I feel like the kid wouldn’t completely abandon the streets, so they go visit old friends and bring left overs or snacks or water bottles to their friends still on the street.  

Even though they don’t need to, the kid has connections through other street orphans so they can relay information to Dazai and Chuuya.  

“There’s been this group trying to take over one of the ports, but we can’t find any intel on where their base is located or who they are.”  “Oh, you mean the group of people taking shelter in one of the abandoned warehouses?  They’re so rude.”

“The killer escaped, but they aren’t sure how.”  “If you go down this alleyway, you can sneak over the wall.  It’s hard, but once you figure out how to get over, it’s really easy to lose people.”

Dazai and Chuuya have a push and pull type of relationship.  It’s balanced for the most part because they trust each other and know each other well, but sometimes it tips too much like when Dazai gets flighty and suicidal and refuses to tell anyone or when Chuuya starts falling back on alcohol, then it’s a little rocky.  But I feel like having someone else to provide and care for and receive help and appreciation helps them to balance out.

I really like this headcanon because I’m a sucker for found families and Soukoku deserves to be happy dammit. 

[yokelish]

Rhetorical.

This is not easy-peasy-lemon-squizzy. This is difficult-fucking-difficult. 

I hate myself for the person I am because my first reaction was “that’s a drag, I don’t remember much of the manga already”. But then I remembered complex human relationships is nyom-nyom-nyom. And so fell in love with working on it more and more as I went. So here you go, @gogolparadise​

Unfortunately, I am one of those people who doesn’t blame Ango for Oda’s death. My blaming scale looks more like this: Gide, Oda, Mori, everyone else. I blame Oda for Oda’s death, mostly. And there’s no denial about who shot Odasaku in the first place. But Ango isn’t blameless. He done fuck up.

I won’t write how and when Dazai sabotaged the airbag, I am sure even he wouldn’t know it either. P L O T. The scene between Ango and Dazai unfolded differently in manga and anime. And I like manga’s version better. I rarely use Japanese respectful suffixes like “san” and “kun”, but here….it’s sorta important.

✏ Fandom: Bungou Stray Dogs ✏ Characters: Dazai Osamu, Ango Sakaguchi  ✏ Word count: 2,166 ✏ Warnings: none? 

Rhetorical.

He couldn’t deny the fact that having a gun in his hand felt distantly pleasant. The power and control that came with the weight in his hand would add more pleasure to it. But the weapon was oddly light compared to his memories of handling one. It wasn’t loaded. A good decision: a smart and safe decision. If Dazai couldn’t trust himself, he could trust in the distrust people have for him. And no one would know that better than someone he once called a friend. The two loyal guard dogs wouldn’t be able to stop him if that’s what he wanted. The resting blade against his neck only sharpened that tiny thrill coursing through his veins. It was bringing up old memories of having his life on the line every other day. The sound of raining shots, the lightning bolt shine of it, the heat of the muzzle afterwards. And the lingering smell of gunpowder. Unloading the gun was the smartest decision his once-friend had ever made. Because Dazai also couldn’t deny the fact that when it was aimed at the back of Ango’s head, it felt invigorating.

“What on earth made you think…” Dazai asked calmly. “…that I had forgiven you?” He didn’t regret asking. The question didn’t need to be answered. There was no need to have a conversation about that part of history. After all, there was too much to forgive, and Dazai didn’t even start on it. But asking had to clearly state where they stand.

“I was the one who cleaned your record when you fled the Mafia. If anything, you are the one who owes me,” Ango replied, unfazed by the threat, and even sounding a little exasperated.

“Alright.” Dazai easily dropped the threat, the aim of the gun, the feeling coursing through his veins. “The gun isn’t loaded. You knew I’d do that.”

A hand was offered to collect the empty weapon. “I am glad you catch on so quickly.” The man in glasses offered a calm, collected smile, with a little amusement traced in the lines of his face. Dazai would roll his eyes at this if the man wasn’t so obviously looking. Credit given where its due, Ango wasn’t slow on the uptake — always deceitfully sharp. But Dazai didn’t appreciate proximity or eye-contact. Least of all he wanted to grow an appreciation for Ango’s quick thinking, stoic and neutral approach, and overall efficiency. He remembered the man from the past too vividly, and separating those images was harder than it should have been. Liar. Traitor.

“If we are not rekindling our old friendship,” Sakaguchi spoke again, more hesitantly this time. “…What do you want?”

How eloquent and bold it was to say that there was something to rekindle between them. When a torch goes out, you look for a fire to light it again. You don’t wet the cloth and chop up the wooden stick. And you sure do not let the torch burn to ashes. If so, there was nothing to rekindle.

With his back to Ango, Dazai allowed himself to smile. The half-masks he knew how to transform and switch seamlessly. His goals were for him to know. Ango would find out soon enough. The bandaged man shifted his smile into a childish grin. “Oooh…” He patted the roof of the car. “You government men drive fine cars, eh?”

The government man graced him with an unamused stare. A sharp look of a man who didn’t want his car touched in such manner. Pity, really, that should be the least of his worries. Government men drive fine cars, but there are many fine cars in this world.

Ex-Mafia rested his elbow on the car if only to gauge a reaction out of the man he once made a mistake to call friend. “Care to go for a drive?” Dazai didn’t regret asking. The question didn’t need to be answered.

Fine cars indeed… For what those government men got those fancy cars Dazai could only guess. “It’s your job to keep those skill-oriented crimes in check, isn’t it? You mustn’t shirk your duty like that.” He spoke leisurely, enjoying, savouring. There was something sickeningly amusing in the ease of the situation. The tension that was visibly lacking in the air. Ango’s safe driving befitting of a good citizen. The calm Dazai couldn’t help but feel. He almost felt guilty about it, too. The calm that comes with the knowledge of what’s to come. And yet, by all canons of the world, it should not be as easy as breathing.

“We have been keeping tabs on the Guild as well,” Ango finally gave a reply fitting for a government man. A limited, careful answer.

Dazai’s interest was piqued by the narrowness of such words. “You knew…and you simply let them be? Do I have that right?” He knew he did. The question didn’t need to be answered. But he didn’t regret asking, he savoured it without guilt.

“Unlike you, Dazai-kun, I believe in an honest day’s work,” Sakaguchi answered evenly, never taking his eyes off the road. “Do you even know what kind of kind of group the Guild is?”

Dazai could guess that this feeling inside him was glee. There was nothing compared to the feeling of knowing and seeing through the deceit of others even if that deceit was a delusion for one’s self. He cared little for the games the government played, he just despised them. He cared not for the power the Guild possessed, he just wanted to beat it.

“Oh my, wait a moment,” the bandaged man said. “This discussion is taking a strange turn.”

“This is politics, Dazai-kun.”

That’s an exceptionally fine carpet word for lies, deception, manipulation, power play and the like. Perhaps, it was a matter of perception, the things one believes in. If perception can stop you from seeing the world upside-down, if it can grant you the vividness of colours and appreciation for abstract, then it surely must be able to install a belief in the greater good.

“…to grant immunity to their members…”

Like Ango believing in an honest day’s work. Or Atsushi believing in his own worthlessness or that saving people will justify his existence. Like Kunikida upholding his ideals stronger than any other man alive.

“…truly, above the law…”

Perhaps, it was all about the installed moral compass within a person. The lines one draws to walk a straight path. Those constructed margins of morality that should never be crossed lest the world changes its meaning or loses it completely. Dazai’s compass had been broken for the longest time, he could admit that much. There were too many bold strokes beyond the margins: crosses, stains, incomprehensible lines made in indifference and irresponsibility.

“…they’re surveilling our little conference even now…”

But, truly, how morally superior is the government handling the bizarre world of skill-users compared to the Mafia? He couldn’t be the one to judge and tell. He couldn’t understand.

“Dazai-kun, start running away. Now.” The urgency in Ango’s voice brought him back to the oncoming reality. Whatever emotions were hidden behind the glasses, Dazai couldn’t press into his memory. The mind was too preoccupied. He pressed back into the seat — a response of his body to the upcoming and unavoidable danger. The thought of dying had never once scared him, but pain, broken bones, and the like — loathed.

“Run, and tell your agents that danger will find them soon —” It didn’t matter what the answer was. There was no need for it.

If there were indeed parallel worlds — an infinite number of possibilities of the current one — then it could be different. In another world, perhaps, it could be different. They could have never met and, thus, never had their past shared. Two perfect strangers to each other — two parallels never meeting. In a different world where the events unfolded differently, where they still met, became friends and met in a bar with, preferably, a similar menu. In a world where he didn’t die, they could remain forever as they were back then. Dazai would feed them his terrible tofu and talks about suicide. They could eat and drink together while sharing nonsensical stories. There would be no guilt or regret. But that would have to be a different world.

In this world, Sakaguchi Ango, a government agent, successfully infiltrated Port Mafia and then Mimic. In this world, Sakaguchi survived in the Mafia and climbed the ranks. In this world, he had successfully pretended to be a friend to Dazai Osamu, youngest Executive in history, and Sakunosuke Oda, the lowest of the ranks. He done so not out of necessity but because he could. In this world, Sakunosuke Oda was dead, killed in confrontation with Mimic. Ango’s betrayal of the Mafia didn’t matter in the least. After all, Dazai had done so too: even he wasn’t such a hypocrite. In this world what mattered was the death of a man who didn’t get to write his novel. In this world, Dazai Osamu wasn’t a better man to forgive. In this world, ex-Mafia held grudges despite knowing the regret of another.

If he were in a different world and was a different human being, he would understand the necessity for the flowers when visiting a hospital. But he wasn’t, and he didn’t really understand it. Nonetheless, he had done it. A man who believes in honest day’s work deserved that much, at least.

“Why, hello there, Ango!” Dazai’s chirpy voice carried through the ward. “How are you doing?” With a bouquet and a basket of consumable goods as visiting protocol dictates. And a bright friendly smile, of course. “Well, you look lovely,” Dazai lied effortlessly, seamlessly. He had done so not out of necessity but because he could. “I have a fine story for you!”

It was in the very same bar where the three of them met that he witnessed it: regret. Sakaguchi Ango, a government agent who infiltrated Port Mafia and climbed the ranks, expressed regret. Perhaps, that alone was the thing that steadied the Executive’s hand. That, and Odasaku’s presence. Unfortunately, there was no more Odasaku to steady the bandaged Executive’s hand. Only the words of a friend now gone to guide this ex-mafioso.

It was much later that Dazai truly saw the guilt behind the round glasses. It’s much easier to recognize guilt in others when experienced. He couldn’t tell if it was cleverly hidden from others or if Ango had hid from himself.

“Thirty-five count murderer?” the bedbound man asked, unsurprised. Dazai was a visitor but he sure wasn’t a good one after eating from the basket. According to him, that’s what he planned. According to everyone else who could be in the room to pass judgement: selfish, inconsiderate, and even mocking. He didn’t do it out of necessity but because he could.

“Murder is murder,” Sakaguchi stated simply. Dazai remained a patient listener despite how easy it would be to probe at wounds unhealed, to uncap the bottled regret, to stir their shared but erased past. He knew full well what murder was. So did Ango. But the thing about murder and death is that it often was accompanied with guilt. And guilt was a disobedient spirit: it didn’t follow you because you murdered, it followed because it could. For all that Ango did, for all the lies and treacherous moves, Dazai knew one thing for sure: in the moment it mattered most he had nothing to offer Odasaku to cling to. In that vital moment all he could offer were pitiful words that wouldn’t even convince a child. If he had to live with the guilt of it, he would.

“…if you seek other help…I’d be glad to do that.”

“Is that so?” Dazai asked, getting up from the chair. That was all he needed to hear. The task was accomplished. “Well, I’ll be back.”

“Dazai-kun.”

That stalled him at the doorway.

“I am accepting your offer of treatment in exchange for support. So just tell me one more thing.” Sakaguchi Ango was deceptively sharp as ever and just as calm. “When we were struck by that mystery vehicle, the airbag on my side alone failed to inflate. Would you happen to know the reason?”

Just as Ango doesn’t put his regret and guilt out on display, Dazai, too, had trick to hide his darkness. If guilt was a disobedient spirit, then darkness was a parasite set on self-destruction.

Oh, he hoped to make his once-friend regret the question. For it would be easy to hide the smile with his back to Ango. It would be equally as easy to switch one smile for another. But there was no need for that. Whatever it was he hid, the other would soon find out. Dazai allowed himself to smile with sincere darkness of his mind and offer it to the man who betrayed him. There was no need for an answer.

[yellowcanna]

Two Sides, Same Coin

Summary: Since the beginning of Quirks, Yokohama has announced independence from Japan and closed itself from the rest of the world.

To this day and age, no one knows what lies within the city of Yokohama—or that was what the public was made to believe. In reality, Yokohama has long fallen into the control of the world’s largest criminal organization known as the Port Mafia.

Follow Class 1-A as their principal organized a field trip to Yokohama! In their short trip there, they must change their perspectives and learn exactly what it means to be justice and what it means to be villains.

Rating: T

Genre: Crossover, hint of shounen-ai (boy love)

Pairing: Contains mild Soukoku (Dazai x Chuuya) and Shin Soukoku (Akutagawa x Atsushi) if you squint

Author: Canna / Yellow Canna

Available on AO3!!

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CHAPTER 12

TWILIGHT DOOR (DAY 3: TUESDAY)

This story has been beta'd by Momentary_Flight

It was a typical Tuesday afternoon in Yokohama.

The sky was clear, prompting people to come out and enjoy the sunlight before winter comes.

Two housewives were walking down the sidewalk with groceries in their hands when they stopped at the sight of a young boy coming up to them.

“Hello!” The boy greeted with a warm smile, nearly causing the two women to swoon at the adorable freckled child. “If you have any trouble, please visit the Armed Detective Agency!”

He held out flyers which the two women took before bidding him farewell and continuing on their days.

After they left, Midoriya looked down at the stack of flyers in his hand and sighed. At the rate he was going, it would take forever to hand them all out.

“What do you have there, lad?” A voice asked from behind, causing Midoriya to quickly turn around with another flyer ready in his hand, stretched out to the speaker.

"I'm from the Armed Detective Agency! If you have any trouble, please visit the Agency and we will help you with your request!" He spoke out the standard greeting he had been using for the past three hours.

“Oh?” The man accepted the flyer.

It was then that Midoriya lifted his head to take a good look at this man and was immediately stunned. The man was not Japanese. The blond hair, blue eyes, and his obvious western facial structure immediately gave him away. However, despite being surrounded by Asians, he seemed completely at ease, wearing a creamy yellow suit and trousers with multiple shopping bags on each of his arms.

“The Armed Detective Agency flyer?” The blond man hummed, eyes twinkling in curiosity as he stared at the flyer with great interest. “Interesting! I didn’t know they used flyers for promotions as well!”

Midoriya’s mouth opened, but no words came out. A foreigner in a city that’s been sealed off for centuries? According to everything he’s learned since entering Yokohama, that wasn’t possible, unless…

“Tell me, young lad, how is the Agency?" The man suddenly asked, turning to Midoriya.

“They’re doing well…?” Midoriya replied unsurely—wary even. The first thought that came to his mind was Lucy. He remembered the older girl mentioning that she had come into Yokohama with her old companions…could he be one of them? But if this man was…then wasn’t he a terrorist?!

“Do you know the Armed Detective Agency?” Midoriya asked carefully.

“Well now, I don’t believe anyone who lives in Yokohama hasn't heard of them,” the man laughed. “But if you’re asking on a more personal level, then yes, I do know them. So tell me, how is it working at their place?”

“It’s uh…it's good.” Midoriya nodded slowly, silently wishing for this man to leave. He really wasn’t sure what else he was supposed to say.

“I see! And are you enjoying your time here in Yokohama?”

“Yes, I—” Midoriya lost his voice as he realized just what this man had asked. He must be wearing a look of horror right now, since the man began to laugh after taking in his expression.

“Why so shocked? You were quite the center of attention at the Sports Festival!” He said loudly, gaining brief looks from the people passing by.

Midoriya’s jaw dropped.

How could he have forgotten?! The people here have access to the outside channels!

Then…

What point was there in hiding their identities at all?! Considering their encounters with the locals so far…their covers had already been blown three times now!

Loud laughter boomed into the boy’s eardrums, startling him as he looked up to see the man…well…laughing. At him.

Midoriya flushed in embarrassment, wondering just what face he had made to have the other laugh like that.

“Allow me to tell you something, young lad!” The man chuckled as he patted Midoriya on the shoulder. “If you want to tell apart Altered Humans and Old Humans, look at their hands. Altered Humans generally have larger hands.”

Altered Human?

This was a term Midoriya had never heard before. Was this referring to them? During his stay, whenever the outside world was mentioned, everyone just referred to it as outside, or outsider for the people living outside.

They’ve never used any terms like this…

“Francis-sama!”

Midoriya turned to see a woman with light brown hair running up to them.

“Ah, Louisa-kun! Perfect timing!” The man beamed. “Come along! The bargain sale is going to begin in six minutes!”

“B-bargain?!” The girl paled, but the blond-haired man didn't even wait for her response and was already charging off like a wild bull. The girl frantically ran after him, and the two of them soon disappeared from the boy’s sight.

Midoriya blinked, not sure what exactly happened. However, if he saw correctly, that girl just now wasn’t Japanese either. Who are they? Could they really be terrorists?

But what kind of terrorist would rush off like that to a bargain sale?!

Midoriya felt like he would get a headache if he kept on thinking. Everything around here was just too weird for him to understand…

“Deku-kun!” Midoriya looked up to see Uraraka and Asui waving at him as they walked over.

“Uraraka-san, Tsuyu-san,” he greeted.

“Are you done handing out the flyers?” Uraraka asked cheerfully.

“No…I still have a lot to go,” Midoriya laughed weakly while scratching the back of his head. “Are you two done with your jobs?” 

“Yep!” Uraraka pumped her fist into the air. “Door to door delivery is pretty easy since it’s all apartments here! Let me help you, Deku-kun!”

“Ah, no, that’s alright!” Deku said, clutching the flyers tighter. After all, he can’t make someone else help him with his work.

“It’s fine, gero,” Asui insisted, “the sooner we finish, the sooner we can go back—”

“HEY!”

Midoriya jumped at the familiar voice booming across the street. Everyone around them stopped and turned to see a group of teenagers on the other side of the road.

“Oh dear, another gang fight,” a woman behind Midoriya muttered to her male companion. “Should we call the police?”

“Kacchan?!” Midoriya cried.

On the other end of the street stood three boys looking around eighteen and dressed in the shaggiest clothes Midoriya had ever seen. And standing before those three boys was none other than Bakugou and Kirishima.

There were flyers scattered all around the two, and Bakugou looked beyond pissed.

“Pick them up, you fuckers!” Bakugou snarled at the thugs.

The thugs took a glance at the flyers scattered over the ground before they burst into laughter. That rubbed Bakugou the wrong way as, the next moment, the blond shoved his stack of flyers to Kirishima and stomped up to the gangsters. Kirishima grabbed his shoulder to stop him, but Bakugou shrugged him off.

“PICK. THEM. UP!”

“Hah?” The thug at the front used his pinky to dig into his ear and started scratching. “What’s it to you, poster boy?”

“What did you call me?!” 

“What? Are your ears stuffed with earwax, punk?” The thug sneered, pulling out his pinky and rolling what seemed to be earwax between his fingers before flicking it at Bakugou. While he had dodged the filth, the action further enraged him.

This was bad!

Midoriya could tell he was about to explode!

“Going around handing out lame ass posters, you must be a mama’s boy!” Another yelled mockingly.

“Don’t go crying to your moms once I beat your ass into the ground!” Bakugou roared with a murderous smile as his hands rolled into fists.

The thugs laughed as they began to approach Bakugou. Both sides looked like they were seriously about to get into a fight in the middle of the street!

“Bakugou! Just ignore these people!” Kirishima couldn’t care about the flyers anymore. He dumped them aside and ran up to hook both of his arms under Bakugou’s to restrain him. 

“FUCKING LET GO!”

“What’s wrong, mama’s boy? Weren’t you gonna teach us a lesson?” The thugs seemed extremely amused by Bakugou being restrained like that and continued to throw snide remarks to further fuel the flames.

“We have to stop him!” Midoriya gasped, dropping his flyers as he broke into a run with Uraraka and Asui following behind. They ran to the crossing, impatiently waiting for the light to turn red, before darting across the street and towards Bakugou and Kirishima.

At the same time, Iida also came charging out from around the corner behind Bakugou with Todoroki and Yaoyorozu—also having heard Bakugou’s loud voice.

“Calm down, Kacchan!”

“Bakugou-kun! Stop that this instant!”

“Bakugou, man, cut it out!!”

“FUCK OFF! I’M GOING TO KILL THEM!”

And that was how they all found themselves in the office half an hour later, kneeling on the green tile floor as they listened to Kunikida’s long lecture.

The rest of the students—at least the ones that were deemed too unique to go outside—were glancing over to the detention area every now and then. They were scattered around the office, helping out the staff with organizing documents and photocopying files.

Aizawa and Toshinori were sitting on the couch as they looked over to the kids in the group. Toshinori just sighed, looking as if he had a headache, while Aizawa looked like he was going to burst the veins in his dried-up eyes.

“I never asked to hand out those damn flyers!” Bakugou finally couldn’t hold it in anymore and talked back to the man.

“Oh? Then you prefer sorting out the documents?” Kunikida pointed to a stack of documents that were currently being sorted out by Kouda and Ojiro.

Bakugou opened his mouth, obviously wanting to continue arguing, but Aizawa had had enough.

“Enough, Bakugou!” His raven hair was floating upwards, revealing those bloodshot eyes glaring down at his student. Bakugou snapped his mouth shut, but the defiant look in his eyes was clear for everyone to see.

It was obvious that Bakugou did not think he did anything wrong. In many ways, the students that had witnessed the scene didn’t think Bakugou had done much wrong either. Sure he was in the wrong for trying to initiate a fight, but other than that he did nothing wrong in standing up for his friend.

“I’m sorry!” Kirishima bowed deeply, gaining the attention of their teachers and Kunikida. “It was my fault! Bakugou was just defending me! Those guys—”

“This isn’t about how this matter started.” Kunikida cut the redhead off. “The fact is that you,” glared at Bakugou, “attempted to start a fight in the middle of the street. I don’t know how Japan handles these kinds of situations, but here in Yokohama, that alone warrants you to spend the night in the nearest police station.”

All the students stared at Kunikida in shock, even the ones that were working.

Was it that serious?

Back in Japan, fights like those were a common occurrence, especially among teenagers. The most that would happen when they got caught was the police calling their parents to give them a stern talking to.

With one look at Bakugou’s eyes, Kunikida snapped his notebook shut and tucked it away with great care. 

“All of you, come with me,” he said to everyone in the office.

The U.A students looked at each other before setting aside their work and following Kunikida out.

Toshinori stood up as he and Aizawa prepared to follow them outside, only to be stopped by Ranpo who was sitting on his desk while munching on a rice cracker.

“Just leave it to Kunikida-kun,” the young detective said. “He has a soft spot for kids. He won’t be too hard on them.”

“But—” Toshinori looked like he wanted to argued, but decided against it. They had agreed to let the Armed Detective Agency look over their students, after all. While Aizawa was still a bit concerned and wanted to follow, he knew that as well and sat down. If they were going to stay for a week, then it’s best to cooperate with the Armed Detective Agency.

Kunikida led the group of teenagers down the long stairs and exited through the back door of the building, coming to a small parking lot with no one in sight. There weren’t even any cars parked.

The kids were looking around, confused as to why the blond had brought them here, when Kunikida turned around.

“Come at me.”

“…Huh?”

They all just stood there, staring at Kunikida.

“I’m telling you all to come at me as you would in a real fight—without the activation of your Quirks,” Kunikida clarified, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“A fight?!” Kaminari gasped.

“What, have you never been in a fight?” Kunikida questioned.

“No, we have, but…” Yaoyorozu was hesitant. After all, how were any of them supposed to fight without their Quirks?

“What are you all standing there for?” Bakugou, who had been holding back his rage for the last couple hours, finally found an outlet. He smirked as he smashed his fists together. “Just surround him and beat him up!”

“Is this a street brawl?” Sato muttered. It was meant to be rhetorical, but the moment he spoke, everyone froze.

No…this is a street brawl!

“Yeah! Let’s do this!” Kirishima joined in, excited. “Real men should only talk with their fists!”

“We’re not men though…” Jirou muttered with a small shudder. Are they seriously going to fight barehanded? How were they even going to do that?!

Sure they have combat experience and had even encountered Villains before…but this…this felt different from anything they've gone through. Something about this just felt more raw, more…primal.

After all, in the age of Quirks, something like a brawl that involves only bare fists and no Quirk exists only in old textbooks. Nowadays, fights—be it for entertainment or otherwise—all involved Quirks in one way or the other. Something like a simple fist fight doesn’t exist anymore.

"I'm very busy," Kunikida said as he glanced down at his watch. "So if none of you are going to come at me, I will go to you.”

Suddenly, the blond man came running at them. The first to react were the people that have some skills in fighting barehanded—people such as Bakugou, Kirishima, Midoriya, Shouji, Sato, Ojiro and even Uraraka.

The rest of the class became an immediate mess. They staggered back, accidentally bumping into one another and, at that moment, forgot all the training they've gone through in the face of  the restrictions on their Quirks.

Bakugou was the first to charge out, meeting Kunikida and throwing a first at his face. Unfortunately for him, Kunikida swiftly grabbed him by the wrist and threw the boy over his shoulder. The entire process had happened within a split second and, what’s more, Kunikida didn’t even slow down in the slightest. He didn’t even look back after tossing Bakugou away and kept running towards the group.

“That move…!” Uraraka gaped, recognizing it from her internship.

Kirishima and Sato both jumped out to strike, the redhead coming at Kunikida from the left while Sato took the right. Kunikida quickly paused in his steps. He crouched down, arms crossed in front of him before his palms thrust out—slamming the boys right beneath their chins. The force almost made the two of them black out, losing control of their limbs as they wobbled on their feet before dropping onto the ground.

Next up was Ojiro.

Ojiro was the only one that had any real and extensive practice in close combat. He managed to throw two kicks at the adult…though both attacks were blocked. When he tried to throw in a third kick, Kunikida grabbed him by the ankle and, with a spin, he swept Ojiro off his foot before throwing him into Shouji, knocking the two of them down.

While Kunikida’s attention has yet to move on from Ojiro, Midoriya tried to use this chance to tackle the man from behind. But without the power of his Quirk, he was as powerless as the rest of his classmates and went down with a fist to his gut. The boy collapsed over Ojiro and Shouji while Kunikida darted for Uraraka.

The girl tried to grab his arm to throw him over like what he had done to Bakugou. She had succeeded in grabbing onto him, but Kunikida easily broke free of her grip with a twist of his arm. With a simple push and a kick to the back of her knee, she stumbled and fell onto the ground.

If Ojiro’s attack was on the level of an amateur, then needless to say Uraraka was way below that. Despite knowing how to use the technique, Uraraka was much too inexperienced to execute it on a real martial artist. There was no possible way the technique she had only practiced for a single week could be used on an experienced martial artist who had practiced for years.

The rest of the students went down in a matter of seconds. None of them were even given the chance to even strike at the man. Before they could even lift their hands, their world was already flipped upside-down.

“Gyaaaaa!” The last student remaining was none other than Mineta.

The petite boy was lifted in the air by the back of his shirt, screaming, punching, and kicking, yet his short limbs were nowhere near reaching Kunikida. His image right now looked like a wet cat hissing and baring its nonexistent fangs and claws.

The man seemed to be pondering what to do with this last one when he took a step to the side, dodging the fist that came flying at him from behind.

Tossing Mineta aside, Kunikida grabbed Bakugou’s forearm. Instead of throwing him over his shoulder like before, he spun Bakugou around and easily pinned him down onto the ground. Bakugou immediately tried to get up, but he found that he couldn’t with one hand twisted behind his back and the weight of the adult sitting on top of him.

“Thirty-four seconds,” Kunikida said as he glanced down at his watch.

Yes, the fight had only taken a little over half a minute. Most of the students went down in just a second. The one who held on the longest was Ojiro due to the slight advantage over his classmates.

This was with Kunikida holding his strength back and going easy on the students. Despite how he may have seemed a bit too rough with some over others, the children were all unscathed. None of the damage he did would last more than a couple of seconds.

By now, all the students were getting up—even Kirishima and Sato were coming out of their momentary shock.

“You’re all weak.” Kunikida stated bluntly. "Perhaps it is due to your world being focused on Quirks that you've all grown to rely on them and neglect an actual workout. Of the twenty of you, only two have properly learned how to fight. Yet the fighting moves that you know are only basic movements that severely lack training.”

After that, the man looked down at Bakugou, tightening his grip on the boy’s arm when he attempted to struggle.

“Get off!” Bakugou snarled, humiliated at being pinned down for so long. Damn it! If only he could use his Quirk, then this guy would—

“Right now, you’re thinking that if only you could use your Quirk, you could easily throw me off, aren't you?" Kunikida asked, narrowing his eyes at Bakugou who was glaring up at him. “If I use my Ability, you will all be dead. Have you thought about that?”

That caused the boy’s struggling to stop as everyone stared at Kunikida. It's almost as if they just remembered that the entire Armed Detective Agency was made up of Ability users, and Kunikida was one of them.

“Kunikida-san, what is your Ability?” Midoriya asked, unable to hide his curiosity.

Kunikida reached into his shirt to pull out the notebook all of them were way too familiar with.

“My Ability allows me to manifest anything I write in my notebook.” Kunikida explained. "So long as the object I write is no larger than the size of the notebook."

“How is that going to beat us?!” Bakugou yelled out what everyone was thinking. 

Kunikida’s Ability did indeed sound amazing, but if it’s limited to the size of his notebook, what could he do?

“Guns, bombs, gas, poison…” Kunikida listed out all the dangerous weapons he could create in just that notebook. "Human bodies are more vulnerable than you think. Don't assume that you're unbeatable just because of your Quirks. Here in Yokohama, we don't just battle with our Abilities. You may be considered elite in your world, but your explosive powers don’t mean a thing here. You will only get your whole class killed if you continue this reckless behavior.”

With that, Kunikida released Bakugou’s sore arm and stood up. He straightened his clothes before looking to the rest of the kids.

“I’m sure you all haven’t forgotten your encounter with Lucy Maud Montgomery.” Kunikida reminded them. “The lady came from a strong organization, but she is neither a fighter nor is her Ability made to fight. Up until now, none of you have witnessed the extent of what an Ability can do nor do you understand the power of what an offensive Ability is capable of. In the world of Ability users, only the strong can afford to be arrogant.”

The man paused, allowing them to absorb everything he said before continuing.

“Remember this: if you want to live, never pick a fight with someone in Yokohama. Any of them could turn out to be an Ability user. Even if they aren’t, there is a high chance that they belong to a gang. The next time you run into trouble, call the police like what any ordinary person would do, understand?"

The students nodded slowly, all of them wearing lost or dumbfounded expressions. Seeing them like this, Kunikida heaved out a small sigh. He wouldn’t expect these children to understand in a single day anyways.

He opened his notebook and wrote something down. Then with great pain, he ripped the page out and handed it to the nearest student, who happened to be Aoyama.

“Your work today is finished. This is the location of the Chinatown in Yokohama, go there to clear your heads. Just remember to return to your dorms before curfew.”

With that, Kunikida walked away, heading back into the building and leaving the kids outside.

For a moment, none of them spoke.

They just looked at one another, then to the piece of paper with Kunikida’s hand-drawn map.

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥

“Woah!!! Look at that!!” Hagakure jumped up and down as the group of twenty students stood in front of the gate to Yokohama’s Chinatown.

They stared at the huge Chinese styled gate and all the different stores beyond it. The style of the entire street looked so different from the rest of the city, it was as if they were going to walk into a completely different world.

“Hmm…they have exquisite style~” Aoyama said approvingly while striking a pose.

“This is freakin’ awesome!” Kirishima gasped.

"I-it's amazing," Koda said in awe.

“Gero!” Asui agreed.

“I wonder how big it is!” Uraraka squealed. “I can’t even see the end!”

“Tch…it's alright," Bakugou muttered, but the way he stared at the huge gate intensely said otherwise.

“This would have been a perfect place for a group pic!” Ashido sighed in disappointment.

“I’ve…I’ve never been to a Chinatown before…!” Yaoyorzu was literally shaking. Anyone could tell just how hard she was trying to suppress her excitement.

“I’ve never been to one either.” Midoriya agreed, also barely containing his joy. Todoroki, who stood beside him, nodded, showing how it was also his first time.

“Do you guys smell that?” Sato swallowed his saliva with his stomach already growling. 

“Hey! We could get tons of souvenirs from this place!” Sero suggested. “As long as it doesn’t say it’s from Yokohama, we should be able to bring home!”

"I have a feeling this street will look even better within the darkness," Tokoyami noted.

“Cute girls in Chinese outfits!” Mineta shouted and did a high-five with Kaminari.

“It’s certainly rare to see such traditional settings nowadays.” Shoji admired, taking in the structure of the street.

"Well, yeah...our lifestyles right now are heavily influenced by the West. It's rare to see something so traditional," Ojiro nodded.

"Maybe I should have exchanged a bit more money," Jirou said unsurely as she checked her wallet. 

“Everyone!” Iida called, standing in front of the group to gather their attention. “Since Chinatown seems really crowded, it would be better for us to move in smaller groups! We’ll split up according to our dorms since there’s only one phone per room! It is three o’clock right now, so let’s meet up back here in front of this gate at six o’clock sharp!”

With that, they split up into their groups and ventured into Yokohama’s Chinatown. The countless stalls and stores in the street almost made them dizzy as they stared at so many things that they’ve never even seen before.

There were buns made to resemble cute animals and different types of steam buns on a skewer! Despite being a closed-off city, the food and the flavors offered were extremely authentic.

There were a lot of souvenir shops, which was odd considering the lack of tourism, yet the locals flocked to them regardless. There was even a souvenir shop selling only panda merchandise!

There were huge, elaborate Chinese temples and also a side street that mimicked Hong Kong!

As the sky slowly darkened behind a thick covering of clouds, more and more people came swarming in. It wasn’t long before the kids found themselves swept away by the incoming crowd. An hour before the meetup, every store within Chinatown lit up, giving the street a festive feel to it. Tokoyami had been right in saying that this street would look better after dark.

It was already almost time to meet up when the scattered students remembered and began trying to find the gate…only to find out that there were multiple gates to Chinatown.

They tried asking for directions, but soon realized that they have no idea how to explain which entrance they came from since they didn’t know any of the street names.

It was at that moment that they heard a loud drum and the sound of firecrackers.

When they followed the sound, they found that a Lion Dance was going on. As part of  Yokohama Chinatown tradition, tonight was one of the nights during which a Lion Dance would be performed. As they gathered to watch, they met up with their classmates one after another. It was a funny coincidence when they discovered that the performance was taking place near the gate all of them had been frantically looking for.

Everyone chattered in excitement, telling each other where they’ve been and what they’ve bought. They walked out of Chinatown together, each of them with a bag hanging from their arm and steaming hot food in their hands.

It didn’t matter which souvenir shops they went into. After making purchases, they were all given a large reusable bag free of charge once asked if they have any bags to carry it. Despite having gone into different stores, the reusable bags they were given were all the same with the image of the Chinatown printed on it.

They didn't notice before, but after meeting up and seeing everyone else's bags, they understood now. These weren't given to them out of the kindness of the workers; this was simply part of Chinatown's policy.

“Hey Bakugou, what did you get?” Kirishima called out to Bakugou, wanting to take a peek at the other boy’s bag only for Bakugou to push his face away.

“None of your business!” Bakugou hollered.

“Ah! This is sooo cute!” Hagakure squealed as she hugged a fluffy panda doll Yaoyorozu had gotten.

"Hagakure-san's collection is adorable as well!" The pony-tailed girl exclaimed over the other's entire bag of plush dolls.

“This egg tart is amazing!" Sato licked his lips as he savoured the last tart in his hand.

“Deku-kun! What did you get?” Uraraka asked as she hopped over to Midoriya’s side. “N-not that you have to tell me! I’m just curious is all!” She stuttered and quickly backed away a bit when she realized she was asking something personal.

"I got these," Midoriya replied happily, not even noticing the girl’s odd behavior as he showed Uraraka his bag. There were t-shirts, snacks, and all kinds of souvenir items from different stores. It was like looking into the typical bag of a tourist.

"Listen up everyone!" Mineta suddenly shouted.

Everyone turned to Kaminari and Mineta who were both standing there proudly with their hands on their hips. Ojiro was standing behind the two with his face buried in his hand like he couldn’t bother anymore.

“We have a very important announcement to make!” Kaminari exclaimed. “Since you’ve all eaten, no one’s hungry, right?”

“Well…yeah?” Ashido looked down to the half-eaten steam bun in her hand.

“Then let’s keep exploring!” Mineta insisted.

“Back to Chinatown?” Sero looked back to the gate they had walked out from.

“No, dude!” Kaminari laughed. “Mineta and I found this great place when asking around the locals! We should all go there!"

“Okay?” Jiro arched a brow, eyeing the two suspiciously. “And? Where is this place?”

“It’s a surprise! Come on guys, let’s go!”

With that, the petite boy and the blond hurried off. Everyone followed hesitantly. While they didn't trust these two not to bring them to some weird place, it wasn’t like they had anything better to do.

As Kaminari said, they’ve been eating all kinds of food and were pretty full.

It wouldn’t hurt to further explore the city. After all, what could possibly go wrong?

Trailing behind the group, Ojiro heaved out a long sigh.

The walk took about an hour.

None of them had minded. All of them were interested in taking in the different styles of the building and the people here. No matter how much they looked at the Old Humans, they couldn’t help but feel fascinated. It was still odd to them at how these people were all born with the exact same body structures.

It was then that Midoriya recounted the weird encounter with the foreigner he had this morning. Due to everything that had happened, he had forgotten until now. Everyone listened, each giving their own thoughts, yet no one could be sure who that strange man could be. What caught their attention, though, was the man’s explanation of their different hand sizes.

They began looking at the Old Humans around them and compared their hand sizes. To their surprise, the man was right. Their hands were bigger than these Old Humans’.

No, not just their hands. It was more like their bones were just thicker and wider, resulting in their hands being larger. The size difference wasn’t significant enough for any of them to notice if they hadn’t been told, yet now that they did realize it, it became plainly obvious. At this discovery, everyone began trying to compare their own hand size with anyone that passed by them.

This went on for until they began to notice fewer and fewer people as they walked. Eventually, there was not a single soul in sight and the sky was already darkening. When they walked by the narrow alleyways, the students swallowed nervously upon seeing wild dogs sitting in the shadow staring at them.

“Kaminari-kun, Mineta-kun, how far is this place?” Iida questioned.

“It should be around here!” Kaminari answered, looking at a small piece of paper with yet another hand-drawn map.

“There!” Mineta pointed to a building a couple blocks away. “A plain building with a black door!”

And by plain, he really meant plain.

It was just a simple building made of red bricks. There were no decorations, no graffiti, no signs…nothing. Not even a window. There was nothing but a metallic black door that was rusted on the sides.

The two boys ran over with the rest following behind. Since Mineta got to the door first, he tried to push it open only to find that the door wasn’t even budging!

“It’s locked?!” He gasped in horror as Kaminari came up behind him.

“That can’t be! Those people said it’ll be open tonight.” The blond instinctively looked for a handle, thinking that perhaps they were supposed to pull it, only to find that there was no handle on this door.

"I think it's just heavy," Yaoyorozu said as she placed her palm against the door and feel the cold texture of the metal. “It seems like this door is made purely of iron.”

“Which means…” Jirou trailed off as she gave Mineta a pointed look.

“W-what?! It’s not my fault that my body is small!” Mineta shrilled defensively as Kirishima stepped forward and placed his hands against the door. With a hard push, the door opened without too much trouble

The moment the door opened the sound of music that was trapped behind the door escaped and reached the children's ears. This made them curious about what the place was as they walked inside one after the other.

The door didn't stay open long. Just as Aoyama was walking through, the door slammed shut. Had Shouji not pulled him out of the way in time, he would have been caught in the doorway.

“Seriously, what—!" Aoyama’s complaint was cut off as lights flickered across them, followed by the roaring sound of cheers.

Everyone stood there, completely shocked at the people walking around, bobbing to the music, and waiters carrying trays of alcohol.

“T-t-t-t-t-this is?!” Iida spluttered as another flash of light swept by them. “WE’RE GOING BACK! THIS INSTANT!”

“Come on!” Kaminari whined. "This is once in a lifetime!"

“IT’S ILLEGAL!! WE CAN’T BE IN A N-NIGHTCLUB!” And then, Iida turned to Ojiro who had been quiet the entire trip. “Ojiro-kun!”

“Sorry, they made me not tell you guys.” Ojiro groaned. He knew things would turn out this way.

“It’s not illegal!” Mineta argued. “Remember what that guy said? We’re sixteen! It’s perfectly legal in Yokohama!”

It took a moment for the others to remember that weird man they’ve met in the spider lily field.

“Yeah! We even asked around to make sure we’re legal!” Kaminari pipped in. "People here come to age at sixteen, so we’re all adults here!"

“No, we are not!” Iida rebuked. “We’re leaving!”

“We can even drink alcohol!” Mineta added. “Beer! Wine! Sake! Come on! Don’t tell me none of you ever thought of trying it!”

That successfully pipped their classmates’ interest.

Be it boys or girls, all of them had at least wanted to try drinking alcohol once…well, except Iida.

"Do you think any of us will be swayed by something like that?!” Iida huffed with his arms crossed over his chest. He had a rightful look on his face as he turned to his fellow classmates, only for his jaw to drop when more than half of them were unable to meet his eyes.

“You guys!” The class president uttered in disbelief.

“I mean…if we’re legal…” Sero began as he scratched the side of his cheek.

Before Iida could say anything else, the hard sound of electric guitar echoed throughout the club. It happened only for a moment before the sound disappeared along with the music that had been previously playing. However, despite the sudden silence, excited screams of people began to echo throughout the club.

“What’s going on?!” Aoyama yelped.

The guitar sound came again, then stopped.

The crowds were going wild as they cheered.

Curious, the students decided to walk deeper into the club.

No one paid them any mind or even spared them a glance. The guitar sound came back, stopped for a split second before returning. Instead of coming to another pause like before, it went on, soon accompanied by the heavy sounds of drums.

They soon stopped at a handrail made with dark iron like the door to the club. Beyond this handrail, at a level lower than where they stood, was a huge dance floor crowded with people. They were all screaming and waving their hands into the air as colourful spotlights flickered across them.

“Over there!” Jirou gasped, eyes sparkling as a euphonious voice began to sing to the music.

“The beating sounds high

To an irreplaceable resonance

Incompletion upon incompletion

Moving towards the approaching abyss

Woah oh oh~!”

There, on the over side of the dance floor, was a stage.

There was a group of five people on the stage, four of them playing different instruments and one figure standing in the center with spotlight shining down at him from different angles, causing his shadows to stretch across the stage.

The singer was a slender man wearing a black with fedora with a red ribbon and wavy pumpkin orange hair brushed over his shoulder.

“Today as a virtual image

The visible scene bright red

I wanted to create it.

An improved self

Something's missing

Something I want to grasp!”

As the man sang, his hands that were covered in red fingerless gloves slid up to cradle the vintage microphone, pulling it closer to his lips. The red nail paint on his fingers created a strong contrast with the cold metallic glint of the mic.

“The instant I look into the mirror

All I expect is my pathetic face

Yet somehow, I still hope that I stand dignified

Living in continuous instants

But there's no such thing as impartial time

So that one moment is crazy

Aim for the light Deadly Drive!”

On the man's neck was a sparkling silver choker with a silver ring and black leather edge—identical in style to the belt he wore loosely on his hips. He wore duo tank tops, the outer tank top being white with black leopard prints while the one underneath was maroon red. A black leather jacket pooled around his elbows and showed off the lean muscles underneath the fair skin of his shoulders.

“Traces of it remain

The vestiges of tears

It burns faintly

The dappled sunlight of life

It merely spills over the melody of sorrow

I have no prayers on my left wrist

I'm fine disappearing like this

I just want to go to the end of the universe!”

The students’ hearts were beating faster and faster, as if their heartbeat was attempting to match the beat of the music and become one with it. None of them even realized how they became lost in a trance from the man's music and the strong aura being expelled from his body as he sang.

When they stared into the man’s icy blue eyes, it was as if their souls were sucked into them—unable and unwilling to pull themselves free. At this moment, they wanted nothing but to drown in that beautiful voice and the powerful music taking over their entire being.

The singer ripped the mic off the mic stand and kicked it aside. The wire of the mic flew up into the air from the violent pull, twirling around the man as if the two were engaged in a graceful dance. He brought the mic up to his lips as if to place a delicate lover’s kiss to it.

“The restraint in not kissing is akin to

The flowers concealing paradise

If the scars still hurt

Then break the chains and go forth

Yet the shadows left behind do not move

In disappointment, remember

Victory that brings forth truth and love!”

He reached a hand out towards the crowd.

It was a gesture that looked like a gentleman offering to take a lady’s hand, but the man’s fingers curled inward as his open hand curled up into a tight fist as he sang out the final part of the song.

“Prosperous immorality

Towards a darkness more beautiful than: Deadly Drive

Aim for a worthy light

Stray Dogs!”

The crowd roared.

Screams, claps, whistles…the massive jumble of noises snapped the teens back to reality. Affected by the atmosphere and truly having enjoyed the performance, they all were clapping and cheering for the singer as well.

“See?! I told you guys this is an awesome place!” Kaminari crowed to his classmates over the noise. Even Iida couldn’t find any more excuses to say no considering how he was just as into the song as the rest of them.

Class 1-A waited for the man to continue singing, but the redhead just tossed the mic to another person before jumping off the stage and vanishing into the wild crowds. While disappointed, they decided to look for a place where they could all sit down.

The club was way bigger than they had initially thought when they looked at the plain building from the outside. From what they could see, there were three levels to this club. The ground level, which is where they were at, the lower level consisting of the dance floor and stage, and the upper level.

As curious as some of them were, none of them could get close to the glass staircase, as it was guarded by two men in black suits. It was obvious that they were the security here, so they concluded that the upper level must be for VIPs. They couldn’t see anything due to the glass railing reflecting the light from the dance floor, but whoever’s up there must be important.

There weren’t any tables large enough to fit twenty people, so the group found three booths in the corner of the club. Since this corner was further away from the dance floor and the bar, there were very few people that would come over.

“Don’t you guys think that singer was super handsome?!” Ashido was beaming as the girls discussed the singer on the stage. “And that voice of his was so smooth! I’ve never heard anything like it!!”

“Did you hear how he hit those high notes?” Jirou praised, heart still hammering from the music.

“I did!” Uraraka was almost bouncing in her seat, unable to contain her excitement. “I wish we had something to record it on, it was so good!”

“Hey, let’s go to the dance floor later to see if he’s going to sing again!” Hagakure suggested.

“That’s a good idea!” Asui agreed happily.

“Yes!” Yaoyorozu nodded as well.

“Tch…guys with handsome faces should all die," Mineta mumbled while chewing the fingernail of his thumb.

The rest of the guys, on the other hand, were all absorbed by the drink menu.

“Hey, look, doesn’t this one look awesome?” Sero asked, flipping his menu around to show the others the picture of a cocktail. The vibrant colourful drinks greatly appealed to them and soon everyone agreed to try out the cocktails instead of the classic alcohols.

When Midoriya flipped to the cocktail page, he couldn’t help but be impressed by all the beautiful pictures. These cocktails came in all sorts of colours and glasses. Each one of them was decorated so beautifully that it's practically art, not a drink.

“It doesn’t say the price, it could be expensive.” Shoji frowned, not seeing the price written anywhere on the page.

“It should be fine! This is a once in a lifetime chance!” Kaminari reminded him. “We’re all just getting one drink so it shouldn’t hurt!”

"That is a very dangerous thought.” Tokoyami sweat-dropped, unable to understand the blond’s logic.

“Everyone, please feel at ease to order! I’ve brought enough money so if you don’t have enough, I can cover for you!” Yaoyorozu called from her table, immediately erasing the worries of money.

“YAO-MOMO!!” Ashido and Kaminari cheered.

“Thank you, I’ll definitely pay you back!” Jirou said gracefully as she looked down at her flattened wallet. She really should have brought more money.

With the cost now out of the way, everyone began to look over their menu earnestly.

“There are a lot of options though, what are you guys getting?” Sato questioned as he looked around the table.

“I’ve decided!” Hagakure’s gloved hand pointed at the drink she chose. “Isn’t this pretty? Doesn’t it look like it’s sparkling?!”

“The Sakura Martini!” Yaoyorozu smiled. “That’s a beautiful choice, Hagakure-san! For me, I think I’ll try the Sake Blossom.”

“That one sounds really elegant!” Uraraka gushed. “I think I’ll get the Peach Fuzz!”

“Hmm…the Tangerine Ginger Sake Sangria," Jirou said as she eyed the orange and leafy drink.

“Gero! I like the Matcha highball.” Asui smiled happily.

“You guys already decided?!” Kirishima gaped at the girls’ speed.

“Yep!” Ashido smirked proudly. “I’m going with the Raspberry Sake Tea! Don’t tell me you guys haven’t decided yet!”

“Of course we did!” Bakugou snapped before a nasty smirk appeared over his lips. “I’m taking the Sake Bomb!”

“Sake Bomb?!”

Everyone looked at a certain picture of a tiny cup being balanced by two chopsticks over a glass. Be it the name or the picture…wasn't this dangerous?! And moreover, that's not even juice anymore! It’s just one type of alcohol going into another type of alcohol!

“Alright!” Kirishima announced. “I don’t know what any of these are but I’m going for the Red Eye!”

“You just chose that because of the name and colour!” Sero snorted before deciding his own as well. “I’ll get the Umetini!”

“Cassis Grape!” Mineta didn’t even need to think to decide on his drink.

“Then the Lychee Martini for me!” Kaminari snapped his finger.

“Fuzzy Navel looks pretty good," Ojiro said.

“Mango Margarita for me!” Sato decided.

“Doesn’t the Samurai Caeser look perfect for me?” Aoyama hummed as he flipped his hair.

“I’ll have the Ginza Mary," Shouji stated.

“I…I want to try the Lemon Drop," Koda said shyly.

“Hmm…I suppose I’ll take the Sake Mojito.” Tokoyami said after a while of looking.

“Japanese Sling.” Iida decided firmly.

“Then…Shochu Melon Citrus.” Midoriya finally decided after some hard thinking.

“Pfft, what a pussy!” Baukgou cackled at the green-haired boy’s choice of drink.

“…Sake.”

“EH?!” Everyone, even the girls, turned to look at Todoroki who had his head down and his eye still on the drink menu.

“Dude, why are you only getting sake?!” Kaminari all but screamed as if Todoroki had done something that greatly offended him.

“…I can’t really decide.” Todoroki replied honestly. He blinked up in confusion, not sure why everyone was staring at him as if he had grown another head.

“Are you stupid?” Bakugou roared, snatching his drink menu to take a glance before slapping it down onto the table. "Just get the Umeshu, that looks perfect for you!"

“I see…thank you, Bakugou.” Todoroki thanked the hot head so sincerely that it made veins pop all over Bakugou.

“I’m fucking insulting you, you stupid half and half! Don’t thank me! It’s gross!”

“Pfft, that sounds like the line of some tsundere!” Kaminari snorted, only for his shirt to be grabbed with Bakugou just that close to beating him up. Fortunately for him, a person came up to interrupt them.

“Excuse me.”

Everyone gawked at the man in a waiter uniform who had just…appeared.

“Would you like me to get those orders right now?”

All of the kids stared blankly, unable to react yet. When did this person get here? How long had he been here?

“Just long enough to hear all of your orders. Please do not worry.” The waiter replied professionally as if somehow reading their thoughts.

“Would you like me to order them?” He inquired politely.

Midoriya noticed how this man wasn’t even holding a notepad or anything to record their order. It can’t be that he memorized all of their drinks…can it?

“Ah, yes—” Iida began, only to be interrupted by a loud shout.

“Hey! You kids over there!”

The U.A students all but jumped.

For a moment, they thought they were caught, but then remembered that they’re allowed to be here. They weren’t breaking any laws, so there’s no need to be scared. Despite trying to convince themselves so, they still couldn’t help but feel guilty.

They turned to the source of the call and their jaws nearly hit the floor at the sight of a familiar redhead walking up to them.

“I-it’s him!” Hagakure was barely containing her squeal as she shook Ashido who was sitting beside her.

There, standing in front of them, was the singer that they had seen on the stage just minutes ago. He looked exactly the same, except his leather jacket was hung around his shoulders instead of wearing it like he had done on the stage. This allowed the teens to see the silver handcuff on his left wrist that had been hidden when he had the jacket on.

Instantly, all of them remembered that strange man that had lied to them about using handcuffs as wedding rings. They quickly shook that weird memory out of their heads. This was a nightclub, maybe it’s a style here?

What was it called?

Punk fashion?

“Since when were kids allowed into a club?” The man spoke in his deep, husky voice as he approached them, blue eyes gleaming in the dim lighting.

◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥

“This is the place?” The man asked as he slowly walked out of the dark alley and stopped before the building with the black, metallic door.

“According to the information we’ve gathered, this is the club that he will be in.” A voice spoke from the mass of dark purple fog. “I suggest you rethink your plan, Shigaraki Tomura. It is too risky for us to—”

“Did I ask for your opinion, Kurogiri?” The man snapped at the person standing by his side, successfully silencing the other.

“Hey, can we go in now? I’m seriously bored~!”

One by one, people began to walk out of the alley, joining the two men in the middle of the street.

“Are you stupid, we need to approach with caution!" The green-skinned lizardman hissed to the girl with ash-blonde hair that had just declared her boredom.

“Spinner is right!” A man in tight bodysuit had his arms crossed, nodding to his companion's words before his attitude completely flipped. “To hell with that, let’s just charge in and show ‘em who’s boss!”

The raven-haired man beside him didn't say a word and just stared at the plain-looking building.

“These Yokohama citizens are all really good looking~” The muscular redhead hummed. “I wonder if there’ll be handsome guys in the club!”

“Shall we, Shigaraki?” Asked the man with a mask covering his face and a magician's hat.

Dry lips cracked open in a large smirk as blood-red eyes focused intensely on that black door.

“Yeah.”

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[misstinfoilhat]

The Boy in the Belfry Pt. 9, a Bungo Stray Dogs fic.

Õgai Mori, a former doctor and now the boss of the Port Mafia, was seated by his grand mahogany desk in his office. By his side, stood Elise, a young girl in a pretty red dress and the manifestation of his ability.

His eyes were focused on a faint stain on the polished wood after a coffee cup had been sat there without a coster on the unnecessarily expensive desk. It wasn't that it bothered him. If he could choose, it wouldn't be there, but right now, it was somewhere to concentrate his gaze while he thought through the events that had occurred the last few days.

Somehow, that incompetent old man had made his way into his office, two days ago. He was sure he had rid himself of that pest over ten years ago.

He had left him to bleed out on his own altar after a very unfortunate accident with his Glock the same day he had taken in his half-dead son. So clumsy of him.

Something inside his mind had snapped at the sight of the young body falling through the air. After he had decided that he wanted the boy, he already thought of him as his and the preacher had no right to damage anything of his.

Before leaving the HQ, he had every intention of paying the preacher for the boy. When the old man delivered damaged goods- the old man had to pay instead. That was how it worked when doing business with the Port Mafia.

And after all this time, the preacher had returned. The preacher had returned to kill him. He was going to kill Mori and take Dazai back.

Mori had obviously laughed in the old man's face and told him that the Port Mafia didn't have a fucking return policy (and even if they did, he was too late. The kid was an expired ware).

He had been playing with the thought of offering him Elise, just to taunt him. But, he knew from the preacher's obvious self-hatred and the damages that had been done to his son's body, that the old man didn't lean that way.

He felt sick just thinking about it.

With that, his thoughts drifted back to the first time he treated Dazai. It was that same day. If the kid didn't survive, he swore that he would go back there and kill the preacher one more time (which he now knew he should have done anyway).

Even though Mori had known that a fall from that hight was not enough to ensure fatality, there was no way to know for sure when Dazai was so young and had suffered much physical abuse prior to his suicide attempt.

The blood loss was not compatible with the fall. Also, the head trauma didn't fit the way he had landed. Mori was there to witness when Dazai hit the ground, and he had clearly landed with his feet first. That wouldn't cause his skull to fracture. And it certainly wouldn't leave burn marks all over his abdomen, back, and neck.

The broken legs, pelvis, spine and elbow- yes. Maybe the shoulder too. 

But carvings of fucking bible verses into the skin was not common fucking injuries after failed suicide attempts- It was the cause of them.

When the prior boss had found out everything, he had ordered Mori to continue down the path that was started by the preacher.

He wanted the boy tortured to the point that pain was all he knew. Tortured to the point where pain and suffering were more familiar than love and comfort. To the point where the boy didn't know anything else.

The Boss wanted an unfeeling human weapon. So that's what Mori gave him.

Learning about the boy's ability to nullify all other abilities had been quite the bonus. Obviously, it was a bit annoying under his training when they had realized and their entire training plan had to be changed- but it proved to be very helpful never the less.

Also, it was his only mean of protection. They had taught him martial arts and self-defense, but his body was weak from malnourishment and frail from all the injuries he had sustained through his life.

So, they ran with it. If Dazai was going to be fragile, he had to learn to work with it, make it his strength- and he had.

And now, out of the blue- two days ago; that weak, stupid and useless preacher was standing in front of this very coffee-stained desk, demanding to get back Mori's single greatest creation- and, disappointment.

The man who had started it all.

'The man whos powers worked on Dazai', he had realized. With everything that had happened while trying to save Dazai's life, making sure he was even able to walk again and then starting the training and realizing that the boy had that ability- Mori had never even realized that Dazai had been the victim of his father's ability for all of those years.

That was why the preacher had gotten Mori's attention that day. The only reason Mori had not killed him right then and there. Obviously, Mori was not going to ask the preacher about it yet, that would make him think he had the upper hand.

He would see this through. After all, they did have a common interest.

Either, Dazai needed to be on their side, or, they needed him to be dead. ///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Chuuya looked at the full tray of food that had been pushed aside from Dazai's bed.

“Do you eat?”

Chuuya looked suspiciously at Dazai in the hospital bed. His body had always been frail, but sometimes it looked weaker than others. Thinner.

“You just can't help yourself, can you, carrot top?” Dazai spat back, more amused than annoyed.

Chuuya shot back a stare he hoped might prove lethal.

“I've seen chicken legs with more fat on them than you.”

Dazai reached his tongue out. He slumped down on the bed and pouted.

“The hospital food is... Squishy.” “Squishy?”

“Yeah.”

Chuuya didn't look completely satisfied with that explanation.

“Come on chibi, it's a perfectly good word,” Dazai said determinedly.

Chuuya rolled his eyes. “No, and please stop calling me that!”

“What, chibi? Come on, you're 22 years old. You have to realize that you're not still growing, chibi.”

Chuuya's cheeks were puffed and flustered with anger.

“See? Just like your cheeks are right now, chibi! Squishy!” Dazai sang happily, reaching out to deflate them with his index fingers, just as there was a knock on the door.

Both of them immediately looked to the door on high alert.

It slowly opened, revealing a man with long gray hair.

“President,” Dazai exclaimed innocently and retracted his hands.

Fukuzawa looked suspiciously at the redhead seated at the bedside and approached.

Chuuya was clearly uncomfortable but got up and wearily reached out a hand to greet the ADA president anyway.

“My name is chib... Fuck! My name is Chuuya! I'm fucking Nakahara Chuuya,” he exclaimed as his cheeks turned crimson red and he mumbled curses under his breath while sitting down in the chair in complete disgrace, hanging his head low and covering his face with a gloved hand.

Dazai's grin was wide and victorious.

“I know who you are, Nakahara Chuuya,” Fukuzawa said sternly, mostly to establish dominance, before shifting his attention back to Dazai.

“I'd like to speak to you, in private,” he added, glaring back at the Port Mafia executive.

Chuuya scoffed, trying to recover from the embarrassment, and folded his arms.

“Great, I have more important things to attend to, than to prevent stickman over here from going fully hangman on our asses anyway,” he shrugged, getting up and giving a short wave while walking to the door.

“See you soon, Strawberry Shortcake!” Dazai waved back.

Four of five fingers folded from Chuuya's wave right before he slammed the door shut.

“Redheads are always so feisty,” Dazai smirked at his superior. Fukuzawa shook his head in disapproval, before settling on the uncomfortable plastic chair.

Dazai sighed at the lack of response, “So, Ranpo and Kunikida have been tattling?” he asked instead, unconsciously scratching his bandaged neck. As soon as he realized that the notion did not go unnoticed by Fukuzawa, he lowered his hand.

“Yes, they have told me about your feverish ramblings,” he stated, “and I have to admit, that I am concerned about you, Dazai.”

Dazai's smile didn't budge. “Sunday school, you know.”

“And what about the mentions of the Port Mafia boss, Mori?”

Dazai frowned and raised his shoulders, “He is a handsome man. I was never that great of a Sunday school student.”

Fukuzawa slapped his face with his palm. “You are so full of bull-”

“Language, boss,” Dazai scolded, acting shocked. "I have sensitive Sunday School ears."

Fukuzawa had never been closer to share Kunikida's desperate annoyance with Dazai. He got back to his feet and took a few laps around the room while trying not to lose his usually so mild temper.

“Dazai...” ///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

Dazai wished people would stop saying his name in that tone. As if he had done something wrong. For once in his life, he knew what he was doing was right.

Sure, they would probably not see it that way, but if they'd known... Nothing good would come from that. Which was another thing he couldn't tell them, which they also would probably disagree with.

After Fukuzawa had left, he had finally been left alone for the first time in over a week.

He let the bed lower so he could lay straight, his back thanking him and his head being less grateful. He let the dizziness settle while breathing deeply, easing the nausea that came with it.

Chuuya already knew too much, but hopefully, Mori didn't know that. In which case, Chuuya was safe(not that he cared or anything). All though, the slug would probably do something stupid anyway...

For the first time in several weeks, he allowed himself to try and make sense of this whole situation.

Mori had told him years ago that his father was killed when he was retrieved from the church. That was obviously not true.

Why was his father back? Where had he been and why the hell (language, Dazai) would he try and find him? He hadn't been of any use for that bastard since the day he first met the Port Mafia, which had been made perfectly clear that same night, before his first... attempt of relief. Of peace, salvation and, just... to be left alone.

'What is happening to me?' Dazai thought while looking out the window to his right. 'Am I finally truly losing my mind?'

No. That had already happened years ago. There was no mind left to lose.

Dazai chuckled at the thought. 'Very well then, no mind left to lose means that there is not much else left to lose...'

///////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////////

The next day, Kunikida got a call. He threw his phone violently on the floor after listening for about a minute. Scared, disbelieving and concerned eyes looked at the man, as he stomped out of the room, through the hallway and straight into Fukuzawa's office.

After a couple of minutes, Fukuzawa came out of the room, leaving Kunikida to calm down inside.

“I need everyone to be ready in10 minutes,” he declared. “Dazai is missing," a deep sigh followed as he muttered under his breath, "...again."

[verdelet]

Rating: General Audiences Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Category: Gen Fandom: 文豪ストレイドッグス | Bungou Stray Dogs Relationship: Dazai Osamu & Oda Sakunosuke (Bungou Stray Dogs) Characters: Dazai Osamu (Bungou Stray Dogs), Oda Sakunosuke (Bungou Stray Dogs) Additional Tags: not-a-date date, Fluff, No Angst, pre-relationship if you squint

Language: English Published: 2017-01-23 Words: 2024 Chapters: 1/1

Summary:

Dazai is, upon hindsight, an acquired taste. Oda doesn't mind though. Dazai's company is more than he's had in a long while, even if he can't figure out why Dazai meets him as often as he does.

It's not like Oda is complaining about the company. He wouldn't. He enjoys Dazai's company and the way Dazai seems to regress by at least five years when spending time with Oda. It's refreshing, and it gives Dazai the opportunity to actually act his age, though Oda thinks that sometimes Dazai isn't acting his age as much as he is simply catching up. He'd mentioned it once, out of curiosity, but Dazai had laughed and feigned wounds at the 'cruel' words. Oda had apologized, wondering if he'd touched on a raw topic, and the face Dazai had made at the time looked somewhere between amused and surprised. He digresses, however. The point is that Oda genuinely enjoys Dazai's company and the way Dazai is so very careful not to touch his skin for even a second so long as their location isn't absolutely secure. The way Dazai takes ages to order anything at a restaurant but always settles for the same crab dish. The way Dazai bounces from thought to idea to revelation so quickly Oda's surprised he doesn't get motion sickness, but always leaves room for Oda to offer some kind of input anyway. Still, he doesn't know what to make of the way Dazai is smiling at him right now, smirking actually, and leaning precariously over the chair that Oda finds himself getting ready to catch Dazai when he inevitably falls. The owner of the curry shop, to his credit, laughs and serves up Oda's usual lunch before heading upstairs to make sure the children aren't causing property damage (from the thumping Oda's been hearing every so often since he'd arrived, he's not going to hold his hopes up too high). "O-da-sa-ku~" There's something in the way Dazai says that nickname that he likes. The way it rolls off the other's tongue so easily, the way it sounds like affection at times, the way Dazai grins like he would make Oda carry him if not for the importance of not cancelling out the future-seeing Ability. “Yes?” He watches Dazai steal a bite of his curry, absently wondering why Dazai always steals a bite despite never being able to handle its spiciness. Dimly noting that he could stop Dazai from the inevitable burnt tongue but also realising that he doesn’t really want to because there’s something appealing about the way Dazai’s nose scrunches up as the younger man pulls a face at him. It’s cute, which is a term he’d never thought he’d use on anyone in the mafia. “Egh…” Dazai steals his water and drains most of it, still pulling a face. “Don’t you have a mission to complete today?” Oda takes his spoon back, unable to help smiling when he takes a bite and Dazai squints as though waiting for him to react to the spices. “Mmhmm. I’m on it right now.” Dazai frowns when Oda doesn’t react, but Oda just tilts his head in confusion. “Here?” For the life of him, he can’t imagine why the mafia would organise a mission in a curry shop important enough to send in an executive. Upstairs, there’s another heavy thump, and Oda also hopes that the shop structure is a lot stronger than it looks. “Yup! You know, Odasaku, it’s important for me to make sure my subordinates are working in an acceptable working environment,” Dazai explains, grinning and sitting sideways on the stool so he can kick his feet lightly at Oda’s. “But I’m not your subordinate,” Oda points out, because he might be in the lowest rank of the mafia, but that also means he isn’t tied to a particular division. “Ah, but you see, as an executive,” Dazai counters back, “The only ones who aren’t my subordinates are the other executives and the boss. So Odasaku, you’re technically my subordinate~” “I see.” It makes sense, he supposes. In the barest sense, he is technically under Dazai, even if he isn’t directly affiliated. Strange that Dazai would still consider him a subordinate, though. Few would. “So… your mission is to check on my working conditions?” “It is.” Dazai hooks an ankle around Oda’s, tugging as though to make Oda turn to face him but not hard enough for it to be an actual command. “It’s important to make sure my subordinate is happy with his working conditions. It wouldn’t do if they were being asked for too much, you know?” He doesn’t. “And you arranged for this mission… on my day off?” There seems to be a logic there that he can’t quite follow. Dazai doesn’t even look phased, which means the other knows it’s Oda’s day off (and it’s obvious because Oda’s spent all morning with the children as he always does when he can afford to). “Exactly.” Dazai nods as if to seal a deal Oda hadn’t been aware was being made. It’s followed by a slide that nearly has the stool Dazai’s on tipping over from the sheer weight imbalance, but Dazai plants a foot on the footrest of Oda’s stool to keep himself upright and leans forwards until he’s almost draped against Oda’s arm and shoulder. “So, Odasaku, what do you do on your days off?” "Nothing worth noting..." Oda can't say he knows where Dazai is going with this. Even when he does have work, it isn't as though the mafia has anything significant for him to do. Dazai doesn't seem the least bit perturbed by the lack of enthusiasm, only grinning crookedly and hooking an arm around Oda's own. He can imagine Dazai's commentary though, the little comments his friend would drop in regards to how Oda spends his day and well... It'd be sad to waste Dazai's time if the young man is willing to spend it with Oda. "Dazai, what do you do on your days off?" The question gets him a laugh, Dazai's grin apparent even without Oda looking.  "Mafia executives don't get days off, Odasaku," Dazai teases, as though it's common knowledge, "You know how it is." Oda doesn't. "No rest for the wicked, and all that."  "That sounds tiring," Oda answers dutifully, and Dazai's weight slumps against his arm in response.  "Exactly~ That's why I've decided to take the much less stressful job today and spend it on making sure my dear subordinate is doing well!" Dazai hums, clearly not about to change his mind, and Oda shrugs internally. If Dazai wants to treat today as the day off that he doesn't usually get, who's Oda to tell him otherwise? Still, it would be better to ensure Dazai at least enjoyed it, right?  "Okay," he says in the end, as though he'd been questioning whether Dazai should tag along in the first place. "Well... First of all, there's a movie that I've been considering watching for a while now, if you're interested?" It's not a lie, but he hadn't planned to actually watch it until now.  "Oh? That sounds like you're asking me out on a date, Odasaku," Dazai teases, and Oda pauses to think on that for a moment. It doesn't sound as though Dazai is opposed to the notion of being on a date with him, but it's not like he wants to give the wrong impression either... "If that's how you'd like to see it," he says, and it really is as simple as that.

"Humans really are strange... Would someone really go to such lengths just for the sake of another person?" It's natural, the way Oda finds himself half a step behind Dazai. Most of the younger man's expression hidden by the angle as well as the bandages that never seem to come off. He's not sure what sort of expression Dazai carries when the statement is made, but he's also learnt by now that the physical features rarely convey Dazai's true emotions. "You didn't enjoy it?" Oda watches Dazai out of the corner of his eye. Dazai pauses, barely for even a second, but it's enough for Oda's stride to catch up, and they fall into step side by side. It's not that much easier to see Dazai's face, but Oda appreciates the gesture.  "It was decent," Dazai concedes, hands tucked neatly into his pockets. To their left, Yokohama's lake glistens with the colour of sunset, brilliant orange melting into blue melting into black. Following the brick-lined path brings them past various couples leaned against the railing, all caught up in their own little world. To their right, past the shrubs that act as a separator, Oda can hear children laughing as they chase each other around the field, the occasional bark of dogs meeting in play.  "I'll look for a better movie next time, then." For some reason, that makes Dazai laugh, and Oda turns to him in question.  "Your tastes are just fine, Odasaku," Dazai says, then frowns a little. "Though I have to ask: Where exactly are we going?"  "Ah... A seafood restaurant opened up recently, and I thought it'd be more fun to try it out since I had someone with me." Also not a lie, but he thinks Dazai knows it isn't the whole truth. It isn't a reason why Oda had parked the car on one end of the park, after all, and why they're walking to the restaurant instead of driving there. Fortunately, Dazai doesn't seem to mind - there's a smile Oda can catch the edges of, and if his companion had had any complaints, he's certain Dazai would have brought them up.  With a laugh, Dazai skips a few steps ahead and spins around, treading backwards with ease even as Oda glances around to make sure he isn't about to bump into anyone. "You know, when I said that this was a date, I didn't actually mean it~"  He's grinning and reaching out to pull Oda closer by the coat lapel, and Oda follows the motion until they're almost chest to chest.  "If you don't want it to be a date, it doesn't have to be," Oda reminds him. Had Dazai not enjoyed the day? It'd be disappointing, but Oda supposes it isn't surprising... It's not as though he's very good at being decent company- "What do you want today to be, Odasaku?" Dazai's finger trails up his chest, running over each button but stopping just short of where his collar parts to show the dip of his collarbone. Even now, Dazai's careful to avoid skin-to-skin contact, and Oda can't help but appreciate the little gesture regardless of its practical uses.  "I just wanted you to enjoy today." Facing Dazai like this, Oda can watch his friend's expression shift slightly. "It would have been boring for you if you'd just followed me around on errands, so I wanted to spend time with you instead... But if you'd prefer to stop here, we can-" The smile Oda's so used to seeing slips, just for a fraction of a second, before it's back and melting into something much softer.  "I'd like to have dinner with you, Odasaku," Dazai murmurs, and his hand falls back down to catch Oda's sleeve, tugging just slightly. "Since you've been such a wonderful subordinate lately, I'll even treat you myself~"  "Dazai, you don't have to," Oda points out. He may not be paid as much as an executive, but Oda's always been good at saving money and he can afford this much at the very least. "Ah, but what if I want to?" There's a laugh dancing just below those words. Oda can hear it as clear as day, and considers resisting for all of a second before tilting his head in submission.  "Then I'd appreciate the gesture," he answers. Dazai hums, something victorious in the steps his friend takes until Oda carefully pulls on a sleeve so Dazai doesn't end up walking in the wrong direction. Overhead, the streetlights are starting to flicker to life, the sky a purple-blue kaleidoscope of colours speckled with the silver glitter of stars. All around, Yokohama hums with the life of its citizens. For Oda, just for tonight, he need only focus on Dazai, and he's willing to admit that he quite likes it that way.