#i see kyouka falling off the train into the water...

[note-boom]

My favourite grasping at straws parallel is the one where I thought Kyouka falling off the train into the water to symbolise her breaking away from the PM was a great callback to the way Dazai likes falling off things and drowning and he's left the PM....

[knockyasocksoff2022]

The Train PT 2 - NAKAHARA

| 2,740 words |

I wonder if he'll listen.

Maybe.

Or maybe I'll find him hung from the ceiling by an exorbitantly priced necktie.

Maybe . . .

Dazai always has a way of surprising me. He's stubborn and acts like a buffoon and knows exactly how to for a person's deepest insecurities with his insults, yet somehow, when we're in the training room doing two-on-ones (they always pair us together) he gets his act together and it's like something out of a dream. A violent bloody dream. 

Fighting with him by my side and just fighting him in general gets my blood pumping. Fighting him makes me feel alive.

I guess when I kicked the wall I accidentally knocked some mechanism because a mirror slid out from behind the wardrobe.

In it, I see myself still wearing the clothes he gave me.

The clothes.

I had so expected him to laugh at me, to tell me that I must be so useless at fighting because I'm a girl or to gloat that he finally figured out why I'm so short but instead, I got this and I have no idea what the hell to think about it. The insults will come later, surely. There's no way I'm getting off this easy. I'll try to enjoy the peace, for now, but it's creeping me out.

I try not to think about it, and when I get it out of my head, another less pleasant thought enters. My chest hurts. Binders are widely available because a lot of the girls in career districts don't want the hassle during training, but I've always been secretive about getting mine and I know I've had this one for too long. Still, I like wearing it more than not.

I take a deep breath as a test. It hurts. That should not be happening.

Reluctantly, I give in. Slowly as I can, I unbutton the shirt, staring at my stomach for a moment, then I close my eyes and carefully remove the restrictive garment. An inadvertent sigh of relief escapes me. I feel better than I have all morning, and I know it'll go away as soon as I open my eyes. So I don't, I fumble around for the first shirt I find, a tee shirt, by the feel of it, and throw it on.

When I know I won't have to look at myself, I open my eyes. Other than my chest, I look much the same as usual. It's comforting, but my chest still aches. A horrid thought hits me. There's no way I can wear that thing to the games. If they'd even let me. I think they would, but I can't exert myself in that. I barely manage in training.

"Crap."

I let myself fall back onto the soft bed. When I land I notice a green call button. There's a booklet beside it. The first pages are food and drinks, but the last page has a list of medications. Basic things for fevers, headaches, and congestion. I press the button.

"Um, excuse me. Could I get some pain reliever . . . for back pain, please?"

"Of course, Miss Nakahara. Is just water fine, or would you like something else?"

I unclench my jaw, "Water is fine, thank you."

"Alright. Coming right up. Feel better ma'am."

I wince. He's already hung up, and I know there's no point in yelling anyway. I slam my hand down on the nightstand anyway.

Not even a minute later there's a knock. A man in a white uniform holds a tray with a single pill and a glass of water. I'm not even sure if he's the same one from the phone, but I snatch the tray, spilling some water and slam the door. He catches it with his hand so it shuts silently before he goes. I feel myself grinding my teeth again.

Whatever. Just ignore it. Just ignore it. Just ignore it. He's not trying to be rude, he's just never had two male tributes before. Legally, it isn't possible. Yet, here I am.

I swallow the pill dry.

It makes me a bit drowsy, but I fight it.

I would ask for some quality sketch paper (I bet they have it), but I don't feel like calling again, so I settle for defacing the books with sketches of Two with the single number two pencil that was on the desk. The grey quarries, the grey mines, the grey houses, the grey training room. All grey. Victor's village. Ane-san. Kyouka. 

By the time I finish, an announcement echoes through the train that it's lunchtime. I'm not sure how anyone could be hungry when we ate breakfast only two hours ago, but maybe it's in case someone abstained from breakfast. Or maybe it's just the excess I've always heard about being so common in the Capitol. Yeah, probably.

I don't want to leave my compartment. I don't want anyone to see me like this, but I might as well get used to it. The thought of my entire district, my friends, seeing me like this on national television makes me sick. I could ask Dazai for a jumper or something, but I'm not going to go and beg him for anything. I will not put myself at his or anyone else's feet. I'd like to put off his teasing for as long as possible. I'm a big boy. I can do it.

As it turns out, the dining car is almost empty, the only other person being our district escort. He munches on some type of sweet. I stare at him. He looks well-fed. He looks somewhat wealthy. He looks happy. He's a man who likes men and they let him be happy. He even has a boyfriend.

I used to think that maybe it would be okay. I used to think that maybe I could stay presenting as a female and find some nice guy, to marry, maybe even have children, but that was when being an adult seemed so far away, unreal. Before I turned 10, it became unbearable. I'd much rather be alone than suffocate myself in femininity. I tried. And I almost choked. I am never ever doing it again.

Jealousy burns within me. I can't hate him though, not for just existing. That would be like someone hating me just because I happen to like men but don't identify as a woman. I'm a big boy. I can be mature, even if it sends my blood boiling to do so. I can endure the pain. I've had worse. It's not his fault the districts are somewhat homophobic. It's not his fault we've been pushed so hard that homosexuality is forbidden in most districts and frowned upon in the ones where it is legal, just to keep the birth rates up. That blame can fall solely on Doestovsky's shoulders. God, I want to kill him!

Instead, I sit down, as far away from Edogawa as I can. He looks up, smiling. He has an eye smile. He's cute, and in shape despite the fact that whenever I see him he's eating sweets. I'm not sure how he does it. A medical procedure, maybe? His glossy messy black hair and male lolita outfit are charming. He's the kind of guy who's cute with the potential to be smoking hot. The cutesy aesthetic isn't my thing, but I can see the appeal.

The food looks so good that I can't resist, and I end up making a plate of roasted vegetables. Fresh in a way that nothing in Two is. The soil is rocky so it's hard to grow food and what we do grow always tastes dusty, like you're getting a bit of ground-up rock when you eat.

Nobody else comes for lunch.

I go back to my compartment and continue my minor vandalism.

I don't have much for dinner, but I force myself to eat something. No matter what kind of Arena they chuck us into, I'll have to work for food, so I may as well get what I can now. Thinking the same will be true for sleep, I change and go straight to bed after I'm done eating.

At 22:30, someone knocks on my door.

"Who is it?"

"Not Dazai," Edogawa says.

"Good. What's going on?"

"We get to the station in 30 minutes. There probably won't be too many cameras this late, but there's always some, so change if you want."

"Cool. . . . And, uh, where's Dazai."

"Sleeping."

"Sleeping?"

"Yeah, it is very late, after all."

" . . . Yeah."

I didn't think the guy slept at all. Back home, no matter when I decided to put in extra training, either before dawn or after dusk, he was always there. Always. Always running through his already perfect sequences and butchering the targets beyond repair. Always leaving an almost beautiful sort of disaster in his wake.

Edogawa's footsteps retreat elsewhere, and I hear distant voices. I think he's waking Fukuzawa. I search for an outfit to wear that won't require my too-small binder. I find a tee shirt, one of the ones Dazai gave me. 

Why is it so long?

I'm sure it fits that damn beanpole just fine, but what the hell is this? Whatever.

Huffing and still mostly asleep, I sort through the trousers, they all feel too formal for late at night. All that's left is a pair of girls' short trousers. They're black, made of a thick, but light, fabric, and I won't have to wear a belt.

Slowly I put them on. They're a lot shorter than I thought they would be, coming only to my lower thighs, and the shirt doesn't help. Normally I'd never even think of wearing something like this, but it's not like they don't look good, so fuck it I guess.

Through my blinds, I see Fukuzawa knocking and go to open the door. He chuckles at my outfit. I'm still about half asleep so I don't react.

"Dazai is probably asleep, wait here, I'll go get him. We'll all get off together."

"Sure."

I watch as he swipes a key and unlocks Dazai's door. I can't help being curious because I know that the Dazai I see isn't the real one. It's one of the many personalities he's adopted over the years and that just makes me want to pry him open and see what's underneath.

I stand a little behind Fukuzawa. Dazai seems to wake up as soon as we enter despite neither of us making any noise. He looks me up and down, with a smirk that seems different from his usual arrogant smirk. I have no idea what's going on inside his head, but his gaze seems to linger on my legs. Probably deciding whether or not I'll kill him if he makes a joke. I'm still debating it myself.

After a second he gets up, leading the way down the corridor. He's still fully dressed in a white shirt, black trousers, black dress shoes, and that black trench coat he's always wearing. The coat swishes behind him like a cape. 

We step out into the clear night air only greeted by five reporters. The sight of them makes me seethe. The entire scene is too calm, too erie and it sets me on edge.

Control yourself dammit. You are fine. I clench my fist at my side and it brushes against something. Dazai's hand, which hangs loosely at his side. He gives a look only someone who's known him for at least seven years is a smile. To most, he'd look fully awake, but I can see the hazy softness around the corners of his eyes. He still looks flat though, alive but dead. He's walking unusually close to me. I shrug it off. I need to focus on hiding my defiance before it gets someone I care about hurt.

I smirk at the nearest report, a man whose age I can't tell. Capitol people are like that, weirdly ageless. Dazai follows me, giving a careful grin meant to look careless. He looks like a hungry leopard. So much so, that for a moment I'm worried he'll go full cannibal and eat the woman in the red night dress.

The sick part of me that's still deep in my nightmares says that might be kind of hot. (Not because it's Dazai, not at all. No way! I just mean the full-on feral desperate mania of seeing a person dig their teeth into another human's flesh.) But I can wait until the games for cannibalism.

-

District Two's floor reminds me of that cave inside the waterful from a few games ago. A high mountain with a waterfall going down one of its faces. Two of the tributes turned on each other under the water. They drew their weapons at the same time and down their bodies fell, down, down, down into the river. Not a peaceful death. Dazai hates pain. I wonder how he will end it. Pills? A stolen gun? Drowning?

Now that we're alone, he looks around, his eyes sharpening, no longer kind (they're never kind), but analysing, missing nothing. When he looks at me though, all I can see is a sad broken boy. I know I'd hate him for thinking of me like that. Does he care at all what I think? Do I care if he does? I'm way too tired for questions like these.

Desperate to change the mood, I imitate a bat, using a blanket. I swear I see him smile as Fukuzawa drags him off. It's always been easier for us, to use our bodies to communicate rather than talking. (I swear I've read somewhere about pictures being more valuable than words, or was that actions? I'm not sure, but either works.)

Now I'm alone with Edogawa again.

"Well, whaddya think?" he asks it, but I can tell that he doesn't truly expect an answer.

"It feels like the quarries back home."

He smiles, "Cool! Well, if you're all settled. I've got to go. Ed and I are having a midnight picnic tonight! It's something of a tradition we have before the games."

"That's . . . nice." I want to say so much more, something much crueller, but what would that accomplish. It feels wrong to make someone like him cry.

"I know, there's supposed to be a meteor shower on Tuesday, you and Osamu should keep an eye out."

"Yeah . . ." I trail off uncertainly, "Oh, where's my room."

"Just there." he points to a small corridor I'd have almost missed.

"Thank you."

"Yup! I'll see you first thing tomorrow, bright and early!" He's all smiles as he turns to go. He looks so happy, so fulfilled that I have to ask.

"Hey!"

"Yeah?"

" . . ."

"I haven't got all night. Hurry up."

"Yeah, sorry, it's just, never mind."

He softens, "I am your escort. It is my job to make your stay comfortable and tell you what you need to know. Feel free to ask . . . anything."

I swallow, taking a deep breath. Just get your shit together and say it already. "When did you first realise you liked guys?"

"Oh? Is that all? Silly, Nakahara-kun! The truth is I've never thought about romance at all, or I didn't until I met Edgar in my last year of high school six years ago. He's the first one I've felt this way about. So when I was 17."

"You're sure you're . . ." I hesitate on the word. It feels foreign in my mouth, forbidden. "homosexual?"

"No, but I've never loved anyone else. And I know I love Edgar, so I don't really care."

"How did you know? That you liked him, I mean."

"Oh, I don't know. I just felt that he was one of the few people, if not the only one, who could truly understand me and entertain me. I found myself craving his company and missing him terribly when we were apart. We found ourselves staying over at each other's houses more and more often. I'm not exactly sure when it became 'official' but we both had a mutual realisation, I think and it just happened."

"That's . . . beautiful."

Edogawa giggles, turning on his heel, "Thank you, see you bright and early for the parade tomorrow!"

As he walks away I wonder why I even asked. Of course, his love story was perfect . . . and has absolutely no relevance to mine, because I'll never have one. And that's fine.

-

My room is huge, empty, and the bed is too soft so it takes me an hour to get back to sleep. I try not to think about tomorrow. Is Osamu asleep already? Is he dreading it too, or will the teasing finally come?

I'm trying not to gag when I finally close my eyes.

The Hunger Games | soukoku |

Dazai and Chuuya are from District 2. Fukuzawa is their mentor who never talks about his games. Ranpo is their District Escort. Dostovesky is the President. Nikolai is a Telvision show host. All is great in Panem. Why do you ask?

(This fic includes Trans female to male Chuuya. If you don't like it, just don't read it.)

[fifteenleads]

amīcitia

Chaos amidst order, like fire burning water itself.

All in all, a dire situation, Osamu muses. He means not to wax poetic, but there is a certain beauty, too, in sheer madness.

His grip on the floating plank tightens, willing his weakened biceps to work with him, even as the rest of his submerged body shakes in earnest in the freezing river water below. The dark clouds overhead thicken as lightning strikes the distant altar; the Hydraean is not pleased with Ryuunosuke, and the result of that displeasure is the destruction of Altissia.

While First Secretary Ango had promised protection for the Oracle for the Rite of the Summoning, he did not extend the same to the fallen Prince and his deplorable retinue, who will actually face the Trial and receive the Astral's blessing for it. It was an unfair deal Ryuu accepted, regardless— nothing else mattered to him, so long as his betrothed is kept safe.

A laughable sentiment— Ryuu never considers Lady Kouyou as anything but an estranged older sister, yet he remains utterly devoted to her, nonetheless. Their shared grief over the loss of Kyouka during the Siege of Tenebrae had bonded them in a twisted but tragic understanding to do everything it takes to survive.

It was the only principle Ryuu swore to live by as they embarked on their journey to reclaim Lucis from the Empire— his last order to them, in fact, before everything began and went to hell.

An order, it seems, he won’t be able to see through to the end, as Imperial soldiers stare him down, like vicious hunters to helpless game, trapped without any form of escape.

Osamu considers his limited options at this point— the most logical one would be to swim away, let himself get swept by the unnaturally strong current down the major canals into the open bay. Ango had mentioned something about boats in the briefing; maybe he could commandeer one of them and make his way to the altar post-haste. The other, more impulsive one, is to muster the little strength left in his thin, untrained arms, and teach these glorified lapdogs a lesson in humility for daring to underestimate a half-dead Crownsguard with only raw intellect and an uncanny secretarial experience to show for it.

To be fair, though, he did take combat training with Kunikida seriously— or, at least, as much as what was expected of him at bare minimum. Those lectures on ‘ideals’ and ‘expectations’ didn’t rub off him as much as they both would have wanted, but who needed physical prowess when he had aptitude for harnessing the King's magic?

That sentiment now bites him hard in the back, with the King long-dead and the Prince, too, now feared dead. ‘Don’t blame me when you’re all alone out there, Dazai.’

A small voice in his head tells him to just let go of the plank and let himself sink— a lot easier for everyone, by far.

Osamu levels his would-be executioners with an unnaturally serene gaze. With more than half of the city destroyed by Divine Wrath and the remainder plunged in utter chaos, it wouldn’t be surprising if a member of the Lucian Prince’s entourage winds up dead or permanently incapacitated at this point. Atsushi would probably sense it— he did always have the strongest affinity with the Armiger, probably more than its actual owner, Ryuu himself. Kunikida, who’s always had his back since they were children, would just know — theirs was an unconventional partnership, enough to overturn propriety and station twice over, and then some.

And Ryuunosuke— His Royal Highness, whom he is tasked to protect and mentor— Osamu feels genuine regret at the prospect of leaving his young charge to face the rest of his life alone, all because of a fleeting moment of cowardice. He had been looking forward to teasing Ryuu at his wedding as one of the royal groomsmen, too, but that certainly isn’t happening now.

He closes his eyes and lets go, one finger at a time. Everything around him slows down— the rumble of explosives, the clap of thunder, the sound of gunfire, then—

— the shrill of a drawn blade, followed by two thuds and a loud splash, and Osamu feels himself being pulled to safety and roughly thrown onto the pavement. He barely has time to process the dead soldiers beside him before he feels a strong kick to his gut.

“I’ve always heard that the brat Prince’s shady advisor is an impossible man, but I never expected him to be this much of a mess,” intones a cocky, nasal voice from above him. Osamu looks up at his unwilling savior by instinct, and instantly resists the temptation to laugh. It seems that the rumors about the High Commander of the Imperial Army being a Napoleon are actually quite accurate, after all.

Osamu immediately rises to his full height, dispensing with any courteous gestures right off the bat; his head bows and knee bends to no one else but his own Liege. “I suppose this is the part where I express my deepest gratitude for saving this worthless life, Lord Chuuya Kashimura Nakahara, High Commander of the Imperial Army of Niflheim, First Prince of the Imperial Province of Tenebrae, younger brother to Lady Kouyou Tokutarou Ozaki, Venerable Oracle of the Six.” He cocks his head to a side, as if to ask if he had missed anything.

The recitation of his full title elicits the desired effect, and Lord Chuuya comes at him with full force, roughly grabbing Osamu by his dress collar and yanking him down to his level. “Do not speak Sister’s name with that plummy voice of yours, Lucian scum. It is your royal brat’s selfishness and naivete that brought her into this whole mess.”

A mess which, until now, he still has yet to forgive, Osamu does not say, looking directly into those clear eyes, blue as the sky, yet burns brightly like fire. For a moment, he thinks he is looking into Lady Kouyou’s eyes, deep red as the sunset, yet calms gently like water. It is the only differing trait between the two half-siblings, as they share everything else like copies of each other, from the bright salmon of their hair to the sharp angle of their jaw, down to the unwavering pride with which they carried themselves as heirs to the Royal House of Tenebrae, even as they were abruptly orphaned, deposed, and held captive as political prisoners, acting in the interests of the Empire against their will.

Lord Chuuya, it seems, still retains that fire of rebellion within him, just as Lady Kouyou still holds the quiet spark of revolution close to her heart. It makes Osamu relieved, in all honesty— ‘He still holds you in high regard, Your Majesty.’

“What are you grinning about, Advisor?” The Crusading Prince spits out at him, his voice dropping several octaves as the grip on his collar tightens in all earnest. Osamu widens the space between his lips a little further in response, before finally deigning to reply, “Nothing at all, Your Highness. I am merely amused at how the Imperial Raiment hardly suits your frame at all.” There is no lie in this, either; the stiff, white robes marking one to be from the Empire are made to appear large and imposing— neither of which befits Lord Chuuya’s lithe form at all. Still, he manages to make it work, somehow, and make the outfit his own, in more ways than one.

There is a short silence as Lord Chuuya considers his words, before Osamu feels the tight sensation around his throat loosen and he remembers to breathe once more. “Enough of this farce. We merely waste time here,” the Prince huffs indignantly before brusquely turning in the other direction. “You are coming with me, Lucian Advisor. We find my Sister and that royal brat of yours.”

Lord Chuuya does not give Osamu time to assent, instead trudging ahead along the ruined walkway, angrily kicking the stones along the path. Osamu could sense palpable anger from his hunched form, and the growing urgency and desperation from beneath it. He is reminded of Kunikida’s forcefulness for a moment, and it makes him want to hold on to his life just a little longer for now.

‘You must survive,’ Ryuunosuke had told each of them, coal eyes burning with grief and rage as they watched Insomnia be consumed from the far outside, with no way back in. ‘Promise me.’

“As you wish, Your Highness.” Osamu puts his hands in his pockets, slowly moving forward until he falls into step with Lord Chuuya. Time, too, flows normally once more— the rush of the river current, the crackle of boots on gravel, the howling of a far-away tempest, then—

— a slight pause, followed by a deal to start a partnership, as unconventional as the last. A temporary truce, too, for so long as they have loved ones they cherish and wish to keep safe. “If we’re doing this properly, Your Highness, you might want to know your companion’s name as early as now, just so we can coordinate our attacks properly later, should the need arise.” Osamu follows with a smirk, for added measure— surely, someone who serves in the military should recognize the benefit of the practical suggestion.

Lord Chuuya merely raises an eyebrow incredulously. “What the hell are you talking about? Of course I know your name, Osamu Dazai,” he says in a much more relaxed tone, the sudden use of informal language momentarily throwing Osamu for a loop. A snort leaves his lips before he could stop himself, which soon blows into low, controlled chuckles as he turns away, clutching his sides with one hand and covering his mouth with the other.

Annoyance creeps into the Prince’s voice once more as he questions the sudden fit. “What’s so funny, Dazai?” It takes Osamu a full minute to calm down as he wipes tears of laughter from his eyes. “Nothing at all, Your Highness— or, should I call you Nakahara instead?” he offers, as if to return the unexpected courtesy granted him.

There is hesitation in Lord Chuuya’s stilted movements as he raises a hand to the back of his head, absentmindedly threading the long, red mane there, still dripping wet from the rescue earlier. “... Call me ‘Chuuya’,” he asks instead, looking away, a slight flush on his cheeks. “Only the Niffs call me Nakahara. It makes me feel… quite uncomfortable.”

‘Do forgive him his rudeness,’ Lady Kouyou had apologized for him long before. ‘He is actually quite a gentle child.’

Osamu smiles at the memory, noting all of these things in Chuuya and more. ‘Indeed, he is. You must be proud of him, Princess Kouyou.’

It was the most beautiful smile he had ever seen, befitting only her alone: ‘I indeed am.’

“Very well, Chuuya, since you doth insist so much,” Osamu complies, raising his tone to that of the plummy impersonation the Napoleon Prince hates so much, “but blame me not if I end up calling you names you might dislike. Consider yourself warned.”

The well-placed taunt elicits the desired effect, and Osamu merrily skips on ahead, effortlessly dodging Chuuya’s attempts to stick his daggers into his back. It’s a much easier feat than drowning himself, by far, and surviving seems a lot more bearable now.

Hope amidst despair, like sunlight dispelling the darkness.

All in all, a fortunate circumstance, Osamu muses. He means not to wax poetic, but there is a certain beauty, too, in subdued contentment.

[writing-radionoises]

attachment

ship: odazai, kunikidazai

genre: angst with a bittersweet ending

prompt: dazai slowly learns to deal with feelings

notes:  i actually got really pissed that people kept saying fake deep shit about soukoku and throwing just about everything odasaku did for dazai away so then i decided to. write this odasaku did not die just for yall to say chuuya is the reason dazai decided not to kill himself. also thank you to mushroom mother by pinocchiop for the inspiration

It was easy to categorize at first, Oda and Dazai's relationship.

Dazai had never had any attachments, and Odasaku wasn't going to change that.

He had never had any friends, lovers, parental figures, ect.

There was no point in having them, anyway, because in the end, they would die.

They always did.

Dazai would live and die as a Port Mafia executive, and the only ones to remember his name would be government officials.

And he was fine with that. He couldn't change it anyway.

At least, he was pretty sure he couldn't…

--

"Don't tell me you actually like that guy," Ango said while they sat at the bar, sipping at a rum and coke.

"Well, I don't know," Dazai answered, scratching at the bandage over his eye, "He makes me happy, though I suppose a friend could do that too… I don't think it matters anyway, it's not like we can really have any sort of relationship."

"You're a strange one, Dazai."

"I'm fully aware," answered Dazai as he passed his drink but the bartender, "Did you put cyanide in this like I asked?"

The bartender nods his head, "You ask every single time, no, I will not put cyanide in your drink."

Dazai sighed, taking the glass into his hand, "I guess that's fine… Ango, tell me something."

Ango looks back at Dazai, fixing his glasses, "Yes?"

"Would you care if I died?"

The bar falls silent as the brunette awaits Ango's response, watching him swirl the drink around in his hands.

"To be honest, I don't think so. You are a good friend, less of a friend and even more of a good silence filler. But, I don't think I value our relationship enough to really miss you."

Dazai's lips curve up into a slight smile.

"I thought you'd say that."

--

"Hey, Odasaku!"

The reddish-brown haired man turned around from his place in the parking lot, looking back at Dazai as he waved him down with his free hand. Dazai rushed up to him, struggling to keep his jacket on with one broken arm, but he managed.

His apprentice was rather rough with him during this last training session, not that Dazai minded.

He just wished Akutagawa would kill him already.

"Hey, I haven't seen you in awhile," Odasaku commented, "You need something?"

"No, I was just in the area and wanted to see you," Dazai responded, "I'm not interrupting you, am I?"

Odasaku nodded a no, "Not at all. I just got done visiting the orphans. Maybe we can go out? Talk a little bit?"

"... Like a date?" Replies the brunette hesitantly.

"In a way, yes."

Dazai smiled a bit, "I'd like that."

--

They ended up at a park, sitting by the water underneath a cherry tree, talking this and that.

Dazai just watched Oda intently, listening to him talk as the sun started to go down.

"... I think, if I were to get out of the mafia, I'd like to settle down. You know, like how couples do when they hit thirty or so. Get married, adopt some kids… Domestic things like that," Oda replied, "I'm not boring you, am I?"

Dazai nodded a no, "Not at all. I like hearing your thoughts, it's interesting."

Oda chuckles, "I am afraid you're the only one who thinks that."

"Well, other people aren't very smart, hm?"

"Maybe so."

The two fell silent, listening to the river rush by as Dazai turned his head away from Oda, and instead up towards the falling flowers of the cherry tree.

"Odasaku."

"Yes?"

"Would you care if I died?" Dazai asked.

"Of course," Odasaku answered without a second thought, "I'd care very much, you're very dear to me, Dazai."

"Are you… certain?" Dazai asked, a puzzled look on his face, "You aren't supposed to form attachments in the mafia…"

The last part was more of a reminder to himself than Odasaku.

"You can't let the mafia dictate your entire life, Dazai," the brunette replied, looking back at Dazai, "I know you were raised here with those beliefs, but there is much more out there, much more to experience. Don't be the mafia's pawn, be a person."

Be a person…

"Hm…" Dazai replied, looking down at his knees.

He'd think about it.

--

Oda is smiling as his head lays in Dazai's lap.

If it weren't for their current environment, Dazai could've forgotten he was even dead.

He runs his fingers through the other's red-brown hair.

It's so soft. So pretty.

He shouldn't have died so soon…

Dazai doesn't even realize the cold tears running down his cheek, the shivering of his body or the shaking of his hands.

"Odasaku…" Dazai manages to choke out, shortly after muttering thousands upon thousands of apologies.

This is why you don't get attached to people, is what Dazai's brain says, but it doesn't even matter.

Dazai is too busy mourning his fallen friend, his unrequited would-be lover.

There was so much more he wanted to do with him, so much he wanted to tell him.

Dazai wanted to leave the mafia with him, get married and adopt orphans and live happily ever after, like Odasaku had talked about so much.

Even if it would've made this moment more painful, he would've like to tell Odasaku he loved him…

… Become a good man.

That's what he said, isn't it? Dazai thought.

He began to dry his tears on his jacket.

Oda wasn't here to protect or take in orphans anymore… People like his pupil, Akutagawa, could easily just die on the street without people like Oda…

Oda isn't alive to leave the mafia, either, or settle down like he wanted…

I'll… do it for him. Dazai thought.

I'll do what he never got to do. Just for him.

--

"You look to be mourning," said an older man, his name is Fukuzawa, Dazai reminded himself.

"I am," Dazai answered from his place in front of a grave. Fukuzawa takes a seat beside him.

"Oda Sakunosuke?" He asked, and Dazai nodded, "A friend or a lover?"

"... It's complicated," Dazai replied.

"Would you feel better to explain?"

Dazai fell silent for a moment, then continuing, "I had never met someone I genuinely felt connected to until the moment I met Odasaku. It felt like having mushrooms grow all over me, being infected with feelings I couldn't process… I tried getting rid of them, time and time again, but they always came back… I didn't hate my feelings for Odasaku, I just knew it was a danger for both of us… When he died, I went back to having one singular emotion of sadness, like all the mushrooms just fell off. And then seeing other everyday people experience feelings and not having to worry about them made me… feel silly looking and pathetic. I never got to sort out my feelings for him or even tell him but everyone else… Nevermind, that's not a very kind thing to say… sorry…"

"That's okay," Fukuzawa says, "You haven't been showing up to the agency recently. Is this why?"

"Kind of. I just miss him dearly, even though it's been two years…"

"It's okay to miss someone, no matter how long ago they just your life, whether or be through death, a fight, or anything in between. You can still miss Sakunosuke twenty years from now, and it'll be perfectly valid, Dazai," Fukuzawa explained calmly, placing a hand on Dazai's back.

Dazai snickered, "You sound like the dad I never had."

"Perhaps I should be."

--

"... Kunikida is an amazing fiance, and I'm sure he'll be a great husband, too," Dazai said from his spot beside the grave, under a cherry tree.

"And Atsushi… he's like a son to me, you would have loved him. And Kyouka, too, she's so cute. You would've loved the whole agency…"

Dazai sighs, looking over to Odasaku's grave, with fresh roses placed by it.

"... I'm trying really hard to be a good person, Odasaku. It's hard… I'm trying to make things up with Akutagawa, but I just keep… fucking up…" Continued the brunette, "I've hurt him so much, and I just keep falling back into hurting him… but I'm trying. It's the thought that counts, right?"

Odasaku doesn't respond, not that Dazai expects him to. He knows his friend is long dead, but talking to him like this eases the pain.

"I haven't been thinking about killing myself as much, or at least, not in a serious way. I wouldn't say I'm happy to be alive but… At least I'm not upset that I'm alive…"

Dazai falls silent, standing up and moving in front of the grave, "I like to think you're proud of me, Odasaku. I hope that's true… Odasaku, I'll talk to you tomorrow..."

Dazai turns his back, beginning to walk away from the grave as he hums one last thing under his breath to Odasaku.

"I'm still in love with you, you know?"

[patchwork-panda]

If A Moment Is All We Are (34/?)

AO3 link HERE

S1 OP2

I let go of Dazai and scrambled to my feet.

What was that...? That ominous feeling?

“Kusunoki-san!”

I looked up to see Atsushi rushing towards me with a roll of paper towels in his hand.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his golden eyes wide.

“I’m fine, Atsushi-kun,” I mumbled, watching the ink from Kei’s suicide note run down the page and drip onto the floor. “Sorry for scaring you...”

“That’s okay! Here, let me help.”

As Atsushi and I began mopping up the mess, I glanced down at the remnants of the mug on the floor. It had landed directly on its side, at Dazai’s feet, and split open against the tiles. From this angle, it looked like a rectangle of stained white ceramic sticking out of the bright green flooring...

Kind of like Kei’s headstone sticking out of that patch of grass in the cemetery.

I frowned.

No, not like Kei’s. Kei’s grave hadn’t been so isolated; he, like countless others, had been buried in a neatly organized row that stretched all the way across the terraced hillside as far as the eye could see.

The mug sticking out of the ground looked more like...

A soft breeze from one of the open windows whispered through my hair and as I looked up to see which one it was, a thin ribbon of dull white floating in the air caught my eye.

“That’s a name I haven’t heard in a long time...”

Dazai blinked at me as I peered up at him.

He seemed completely unaware of the fact that one of the bandages around his wrist was slowly unraveling in the breeze.

“I wouldn’t mind telling you what I know... about that man...”

I stopped wiping at the tea on floor.

That’s right...

“Something on your mind,” Dazai asked, his brown eyes sparkling as they met mine, “Kusunoki-kun?”

The broken down mug looked a lot more like the single lonely grave that stood by itself under the shade of the tree on the hill.

The grave of “S. Oda.”

I slowly got to my feet.

“Dazai-san?”

“Yes?”

I paused for a moment as he looked at me expectantly.

“Do you remember when you pulled me out of the car, after Akutagawa attacked me?”

“How could I forget?” Dazai chuckled, tucking his hands into his pockets and leaning back against his own desk. “You let me pull you into my lap and you didn’t complain one bit—”

“That’s not what I want to talk about,” I said quickly, flushing slightly as a passing Tanizaki shot me an odd look. “I actually want to ask you about the thing you said just before I passed out.”

Dazai raised an eyebrow.

“Oh?”

He placed one hand on my desk and leaned in a little, suddenly looking at me with an unusual amount of interest.

“...Which thing?” he asked, his voice oddly dry.

“Y-you know,” I stammered, looking away from his unusually intense stare.

Unable to face him, I turned away and went back to cleaning up my desk area, my face suddenly much warmer than before as I finished wiping off the surface of my desk. I could still feel Dazai’s eyes on me as I waved goodbye to Atsushi, who was setting off for the client booth at a pretty brisk pace. And when I turned back around, I realized that Dazai hadn’t taken his eyes off me the entire time.

My legs suddenly felt weak.

It’s like he forgot that there was anyone else in the room with him...

I swallowed.

“Do you remember what you said?” I asked, wishing I could loosen the ribbon around my neck without Dazai noticing. “About the man Akutagawa mentioned?”

I paused for a moment.

“You know, Oda-san?”

Dazai stiffened.

Looks like I remembered correctly...

I watched as he shifted back a little, away from me, his coffee-brown eyes going dark.

He does know something...

“Oda-san, huh...” he mused, tilting his head to the side as he looked past me, through me, seemingly deep in thought.

“That’s right,” I pressed, confused by the abrupt change in atmosphere.

Atsushi had closed the window on his way out towards the client booth and although the wind was no longer blowing throughout the office, it suddenly felt much cooler by our shared work space than before.

“You seemed to know Akutagawa from before. And from the way you talked that day, it sounded like you knew something about ‘Oda-san,’ as well. Dazai-san...”

I stepped forward, trying to catch the tall brunette’s gaze as he suddenly took notice of the bandages unraveling around his wrist and began re-wrapping them once more.

“Do you think you could tell me what you know about Oda-san? Anything at all?”

“I could...” Dazai said slowly, his eyes still trained on his forearm as he continued bandaging it up.

He pursed his lips.

“Let me think for a minute.”

Cautiously, I waited in silence with bated breath until Dazai finished tucking his bandages in place and looked up at me at last.

He smiled.

“I guess I could tell you a thing or two about the man named Oda,” Dazai said, tucking his hands back into his pants pockets.

“If that’s what you really want.”

“It is,” I said in a rush. “Thank you so much—”

“But, Kusunoki-kun,” Dazai said, interrupting me.

Tilting his head to the side, he shot me a curious look.

“Why are you asking me about Oda-san all of a sudden? Did something happen during your case that reminded you of him?”

I faltered.

“Kind of,” I admitted, scratching my cheek. “You see, when I followed Professor Matsuyama yesterday, I ended up following him to a cemetery, on the other side of the bay.”

Dazai nodded.

“Go on.”

“And while I was there, I passed by this grave...”

“Uh-huh.”

Dazai’s gaze was steady.

“Keep going.”

I bit my lip.

“Right. There was this grave in the cemetery and it was marked ‘S. Oda.’ I was wondering...”

I trailed off.

The longer I spoke, the more ridiculous my question seemed. I was beginning to wonder if I should just give up and stop, but something about the way Dazai was looking at me made me think that I wasn’t as far off the mark as I thought I was.

I took a tiny breath in and asked.

“Dazai-san, is it possible that the man Akutagawa mentioned and the man buried on the hill are the same person?”

Dazai remained quiet.

“I mean,” I stammered, heat slowly blooming in my cheeks. “They’re—they’re both d-dead. Right?”

Silence reigned.

I heard a phone ringing for a moment in the background before Kyouka abruptly picked it up and answered it in her quiet, expressionless voice.

I looked away and flushed.

“I... I’m sorry,” I mumbled, covering my face in mortification. “Y-you’re right, that was stupid. The logic, it just—there’s so many people out there named Oda—!”

“I didn’t say anything,” Dazai said, sounding so calm that it only made me feel even more embarrassed.

I heard a clunk and glanced over just in time to see Dazai heave all of the electrical cables he’d collected before onto his chair. He dusted off his hands and looked up at me.

“How do you know the person buried on the hill is a man?” he asked.

My face feels so hot, I probably look like a tomato right now.

“I...”

I collapsed into my chair and let my burning face fall back into my hands.

“I don’t.”

“Ah, well then.”

And with that, Dazai grabbed a couple of the extension cables, stuck them in his vest and wandered off.

“If you don’t have any more questions for me,” he said, heading towards the inner hallway, where the locker room and break rooms were, “then I’ll get back to doing what I was doing.”

“Hey, wait!” I cried, scrambling to my feet.

I raced after him.

“Dazai-san, wait!!”

Cursing under my breath as I smacked into Tanizaki, I pushed him aside and ran out of the main office, chasing after that tall, bandaged form as he disappeared down the hallway.

“Dazai-san, where are you going?!”

My Oxfords squeaked noisily against the floor as I screeched to a halt just outside the break room. Dazai hadn’t bothered to turn the lights on when he’d gone in and it was only thanks to the sudden sparks from the miniature stove igniting that I was able to spot him standing inside. The bandaged brunette turned to me just as I stepped through the door and as he lifted the tea kettle onto the stove, I tried to turn on the lights, only to find that they were now broken.

I squinted at him through the gloom.

“What are you doing?”

“Making tea.”

And to demonstrate, he reached inside the uppermost cabinet and took out a small paper packet of black tea.

“Want some?” he asked, shaking the packet at me.

“No, thanks,” I mumbled, suddenly realizing with a stab of guilt that I hadn’t made him a cup earlier, even though I’d passed them around to everyone else.

It’s because he wasn’t in the room until just now...

But I’d made a cup for Kunikida and as I watched Dazai tear open the packet and lift out the teabag, I tried not to notice that the miniature thermos I’d set aside for the tall blonde detective was sitting right by the tea kettle. There was even a post-it note with Kunikida’s name on it...

Tearing my eyes away from the incriminating evidence, I tried to put a smile on my face and focused on Dazai.

“Um...”

“What is it, Kusunoki-kun?” he asked, glancing back up at me with a grin.

Although it seemed like he was completely unaware of the presence of the thermos, it was only a few centimeters away from his right hand. I chewed my lip.

“You have another question for me?” he asked, reaching right past it and pouring himself a cup of hot water.

I faltered.

“Uh...”

Did I?

Now that I think about it, why did I follow him all the way out here?

“N-not really,” I mumbled sheepishly, turning to go. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you...”

“Oh, Kusunoki-kun,” Dazai chuckled, dunking his tea sachet into the mug. “I could never think of you a bother. Please.”

He waved his re-bandaged hand casually in the air.

“If there’s something you want to ask me, go right ahead. I’m always available when there’s a cute girl in need of my services.”

“R-right,” I mumbled, noticing the way the extension cables in his vest shifted as he moved.

I paused in the middle of the room.

“Dazai-san. You’re... okay, right?”

I turned and glanced nervously at the cables once again.

“You’re not really planning to hang yourself in the break room, right?”

“Who said anything about hanging myself in here?” Dazai returned, letting his teabag fall fully into his cup.

He set the mug down onto the counter behind him.

“I couldn’t if I tried. One—”

He tugged out both of the cords in his vest and dangled them in front of me. The longer one didn’t even reach the bottom of his black vest.

“It’s like I said before: these cords are way too short for that. I couldn’t make a noose out of these if I tried. Two.”

He pointed one slim finger at the ceiling.

“No beams here. Meaning there’s nowhere to hang from.”

“I... I see...”

And as I followed his gesture up towards the ceiling to check, Dazai picked up his mug, took a long, slow sip of his tea and released a long and heavy sigh.

“Kusunoki...”

“Hm?”

I returned my gaze to Dazai, only to see the bandaged brunette staring quietly and contemplatively into his tea. Kunikida’s thermos was sitting right by his bandaged elbow and as Dazai leaned back a little further against the counter, I watched him push it back a little further against the wall.

“Why the sudden interest in suicide?” he asked, observing me from his place by the counter. “Does this have something to do with your case? You know, since one of the men you’re investigating killed himself all those years ago? Or perhaps...”

He raised the mug to his lips and took a slow, contemplative sip, his dark eyes fixed upon mine over the white porcelain rim.

I swallowed.

“Perhaps...?” I repeated.

Dazai lowered the mug, his eyes never quite leaving my face and without knowing why, I felt my pulse begin to race.

He smiled.

“Perhaps you actually followed me in here because you were worried about me?”

I inhaled sharply.

I...

“Just kidding,” Dazai chuckled.

He set his mug down on the counter and grinned.

“But you know, if you did follow me in here to talk about suicide methods,” he drawled, sauntering towards me with his hands in his pockets. “Then you definitely came to the right man.”

“That’s not what I—”

“Oh, the things I could teach you, Kusunoki-kun,” Dazai sighed, a faraway look appearing in his glittering brown eyes. “I could teach you everything you could want to know and more about committing a good, clean suicide. You know—!”

He stopped before me, his grin widening.

“The kind of things you couldn’t find with a quick internet search. Did you know that if you search for ‘ways to kill yourself’ on any search engine, it redirects you to—”

“—the national suicide prevention hotline.”

I dropped my gaze as an old memory, seemingly from another time, slowly resurfaced.

“Yeah,” I mumbled, staring down at the floor. “I know...”

A laptop open to a search engine in the middle of the night, the harsh blue glow of the brightly-lit screen filling up the room, flickering on the walls...

I pressed enter and in the blink of an eye, the screen changed from the search page to the results.

A long, drawn-out sigh streamed from between my lips and I pressed back and tried to word my question a little differently.

The search engine was refusing to give me what I wanted...

I closed my eyes and shivered.

“...Kusunoki-kun?”

Dazai’s voice was quiet, tinged with wonder.

I heard him take a step forward.

“What—”

“I should go,” I mumbled.

And without so much as a backwards glance, I turned around to leave once again.

“Wait.”

A hand closed around my wrist. I looked over my shoulder to see Dazai standing barely one step behind me, his long fingers encircling my wrist and his dark eyes wide.

I could see myself reflected in his eyes and as I slowly rotated on the spot to face him, I thought I saw something in his gaze—something that went beyond mere curiosity. One thin bandage began to unravel from around his neck and as he slowly drew a little bit closer, my breath stilled in my lungs.

I suddenly couldn’t breathe.

“Talk to me, Kyou.”

He pulled me towards him, the bandage loosening even further. I watched as it sagged downwards and slowly draped itself over the bright green jewel of his fancy bolo tie.

“Please.”

And as I drew closer to the handsome brunette, I couldn’t help but be reminded of Professor Matsuyama once again, the way he’d looked as he gazed down at his best friend’s grave, the image of his tall, dignified form slowly fading from view as he disappeared down the cemetery’s wide cobblestone path.

I chewed the inside of my cheek, my eyes never leaving Dazai’s.

I could just as easily picture him standing in the graveyard among the headstones as I could Professor Matsuyama. Dazai, with his half-bandaged hands tucked into his pockets, his sand-colored trench-coat billowing in the wind as he gazed straight ahead...

“Hey, Dazai...?”

I was just being paranoid, right...? There’s no way that Professor Matsuyama was similar to Dazai in that way as well... right?

“Yes?” Dazai whispered, his voice dry.

His face was so close to mine...

“What is it?”

I wet my lips.

“I—”

“There you are, Dazai!!”

I jumped as Kunikida’s voice suddenly echoed throughout the hallway. Turning towards the doorway, I looked up just in time to see the tall, blonde detective stomping into view, a handful of familiar white and gray extension cords clutched in one shaking fist.

“I don’t even want to know why every spare extension cord in this building is sitting in a pile on your desk,” Kunikida snarled, storming into the darkened room. “All I ask is that you put everything back exactly where you found it and that you apologize to every single person you’ve inconvenienced in your—”

He froze.

“Kusunoki?”

I stiffened as his gray-green eyes traveled from me to Dazai and finally, to the half-bandaged hand still wrapped tightly around my wrist.

His eyes widened and I felt Dazai’s fingers suddenly twitch.

“What...?”

“Kunikida.”

Dazai’s voice was quiet.

He dropped my wrist at once and stepped away.

Kunikida frowned. His blonde brows slowly knitted together.

“Why are you...?”

Without warning, the lights snapped back on and as I blinked several times to try to clear the stars from my eyes, I felt Dazai take another step back and away from me. When I could finally see again...

I realized that Dazai’s grin was once again back on his face.

Fixed in place as if it were a mask.

I stared.

“Kunikiiiida-kun!” Dazai exclaimed, grinning even more broadly than before. “Perfect timing. I was just looking for you!”

He stepped out from around me and began to move towards his partner.

“I actually wanted to talk to you about something!” he said, sticking his half-bandaged hands back into his pockets.

Kunikida remained silent.

He was still staring at me.

“Kunikida-san...”

I was suddenly at a loss for words. Guilt flooded into my face.

“I—”

“Kusunoki-kun!”

Spinning on his heel, Dazai turned around and bent down to face me, his grinning visage now a fair distance away from mine.

“I really hate to be rude,” he said, “but could you please leave? I need to talk to my partner in private.”

His grin somehow grew even wider.

“Now.”

“Huh?!” I exclaimed, balking. “Now?!”

“That’s what I said,” Dazai said, finally noticing that the bandage around his neck was coming loose. “I need to have a quick little chit-chat with Kunikiiiida-kun, so if you could please give us a few minutes...”

Bringing his half-bandaged hands up to his neck, he tucked the loose bandage back into place and began ushering me out the door.

“...that would be most appreciated.”

“Wait,” I gasped, trying to dig my heels in so I could resist being pushed out of the room.

But it was no use. I was too short and too light for it to work.

“Dazai-san, you never answered my—”

“Another time, Kusunoki-kun,” Dazai insisted, pushing me even further out of the room. “Another time, I promise. Now then, if you could please excuse us...!”

And with that, he placed both half bandaged hands on my back and shoved me into the hall.

“My partner and I need to talk.”

“Hey—!” I yelped.

Stumbling a little as I tried to stop moving forward, I spun back around, towards the entrance of the break room. I was hoping to get one final glimpse of Kunikida’s face before I was forced out for good, but as our eyes happened to meet at last, the tall blonde detective abruptly looked away.

I inhaled sharply.

“...Kunikida-san?”

Before I could figure out what the look in Kunikida’s eyes might mean, Dazai slammed the door shut on my face and I was left staring at a near-solid block of wood.

I suddenly felt cold.

“Kunikida-san...”

“Alright, talk to you later, Kusunoki-kun!” Dazai chirped, waving cheekily at me from the other side of the tiny window near the top of the door. “Good luck with the rest of your case!”

“Dazai—wait!” I cried, rushing forward and seizing the doorknob. “I said wait!!”

But it was too late.

I heard a click as Dazai abruptly locked the break room door from the inside and as I pounded on the door and struggled to turn the doorknob, I heard Dazai’s footsteps slowly receding as he walked further and further into the room.

“Come back!” I yelled, as that familiar head of curly brown hair disappeared from view. “Kunikida-san!! Dazai-san!!”

Furious and confused, I kicked at the door with all my might.

“Damn it!”

“What’s this about, Dazai?” Kunikida suddenly spoke up from the other side of the door.

He sounded tired and only slightly irritated.

“What do you want?”

“Aw, weren’t you listening, Kunikida-kun?” Dazai sighed, his voice shrinking as he walked even deeper into the room. “I said I wanted to talk to you in private!”

“About what?” Kunikida asked, sounding exasperated.

Grumbling and cursing under my breath, I was about to give up and walk away when I heard him speak again, this time his voice much lower than before.

“Is this about Kusunoki, again..?”

Huh?

I stopped rubbing my foot and stared at the door.

Wait. Kunikida and Dazai... were talking about me? And what did he mean “again?”

Glancing up one more time at the tiny break room window, I dropped to a crouch as fast as I could and pressed my ear against the door.

I tried to keep my breathing to a minimum.

“This is the second time this week,” Kunikida mumbled as I strained to pick out his words. “Why are we doing this?”

I slapped my hand over my mouth so I could better hold my breath.

It was already hard enough to hear Kunikida’s deep voice through the thick wood of the door, but when he dropped it even lower so he could speak quietly to Dazai like that, it was nearly impossible to figure out what he was saying.

I pressed my ear more tightly against the door, my heart beating wildly in my chest—

“Huh? Kyou-chan, what are you doing there?”

I squeaked and smacked my forehead against the door.

Clutching my head and groaning in pain, I turned and looked over my shoulder to see a very surprised Dr. Yosano staring at me as she paused halfway down the hall, her black bag clutched tightly in one hand.

“Yosano-sensei!”

I stopped rubbing my forehead at once and scrambled to my feet, taking great care to avoid standing near the window in the door.

“H-hey! How are you?”

“I’m fine,” Yosano said slowly, looking from me to the door and back.

She frowned.

“Were you listening in?”

“N-no,” I stuttered, shooting another furtive look at the door. “I was just—”

But as Yosano’s eyebrows slowly rose further up into her thick layer of bangs, I thought I heard the sound of footsteps coming from inside the break room heading towards the door.

Panicked, I took one last look at the break room door and ran.

***

“I see...”

I felt the phone slipping a little out of my hands as I spoke, my shoulders dropping in disappointment as I processed the response.

“Yes, I understand. Again, I’m really sorry for the inconvenience. Thank you so much.”

I hung up my desk phone with a heavy sigh.

Great.

I should’ve guessed the police department wouldn’t be able to fax me another copy of Kei’s suicide note so quickly. It was part of a police report that was decades-old and given how long it had taken the clerk to find it the first time, I shouldn’t be surprised that it would take a while to bring it back out again. The entire document must’ve gone right back into storage the moment I’d left and now that it was almost the end of the day, I’d have to wait until tomorrow morning to get another copy.

I groaned and let my forehead fall onto my desk with a soft thump.

After running into Yosano in the hallway, I’d decided to head back to my desk so I could at least pretend I was getting some work done, even if I was actually distracted by other things. But now that I was here and actually wanted to do some work...

I let out another long, drawn-out sigh and banged my head once against the desk, prompting Atsushi to look over at me in concern.

I couldn’t. Because I’d accidentally spilled tea all over the last lead I had.

Now what was I supposed to do?

Turning my head to the side, I stared at the small pile of cables that still lay on the surface of Dazai’s unoccupied desk.

Neither he nor Kunikida had yet to return from the break room. I hadn’t been back at my desk for that long, but it felt like Yosano had left the office some time ago and the minutes were starting to feel more like hours.

“Is this about Kusunoki, again...?”

I stiffened and sighed.

Dazai had been looking for Kunikida the evening I’d run into him in the hallway, too. Was he looking for his partner so they could talk about me back then, as well?

But why?

What was going on? Why were they talking about me in private, and in such serious voices too? Did this have something to do with Kunikida’s training sessions or mentoring me in general? Or maybe...

I chewed on my lip, staring at the mess of tangled gray cords sitting on Dazai’s desk.

Maybe this had something to do with my crush on Kunikida...

I shook my head.

No, that was crazy. Why would they be talking about something like that? But even as I considered the slim probability that it did, Dazai’s voice echoed back at me from weeks past...

“You want me not to tell anyone that you have a thing for Kunikida-kun, right?”

I could still see that casual smile on his face, hear the hint of amusement in his voice. If I closed my eyes, I could still feel his body heat as he drew closer and closer, backing me up against the door of the conference room with every word he spoke.

“Not a problem, Kyou-chan. I’m pretty good at keeping secrets, if I do say so myself...”

I squeezed my eyes shut.

He wouldn’t. He promised he wouldn’t.

My teeth sank into my lip and I tasted blood.

Dazai wouldn’t tell Kunikida my secret... would he?

“Um, excuse me...”

I sat up with a sharp snap and looked to my left in time to see a tall girl wearing a delivery uniform standing at my side.

“I have a package here for a... Detective Kusunoki Kyou,” she said, her thick brows knitting together as she glanced down at the package.

“For me?”

She nodded and presented me with an electronic clipboard.

“Yeah. Could you sign here?”

“Who’s it from...?” I asked hesitantly, taking the clipboard from her.

“A professor at the nearby university,” she said, shrugging. “I forget his name but he said he really wanted me to deliver it today, if possible.”

My eyes widened as she readjusted her cap and stared meaningfully at me and the clipboard in my hands.

“I figured I’d just do it since this building was my last stop of the day anyway. So do you think you could...?”

“R-right. Yeah, sure. Thanks for doing this.”

“Not a problem,” she replied, taking back the clipboard. “Have a nice day.”

And as she set the package down on my desk, I heard a hollow “clunk” as it met the wooden surface of my work station.

“Huh?”

Curious, I pulled it towards me and was surprised to find my business card taped to the center of the brown paper wrapping, along with a folded piece of lined notebook paper. I ripped both off of the package and unfolded the note.

“Nomura-kun accidentally left your card behind while he was at my house the other day,” it said, in elegant black script. “I thought I’d send it back to you along with a small thank you, for listening to my story at the cemetery and for keeping my secret.”

I stared at it.

Professor Matsuyama sent me a thank you present? After he’d caught me following him at Nomura’s insistence? Why would he do something like that...?

Setting the note down, I picked up the package and turned it over in my hands. It wasn’t a very large package, nor was it very heavy, and it looked like it had been rather hastily wrapped. The packaging was peeling from the outside in some places and as I picked at one of the pieces of tape holding it together, the brown paper ripped. Tearing the paper away from the rapidly deteriorating corner, I found myself looking at a small shoe box with a taped-down lid.

I shook it and something hollow began to roll around inside.

Well, it wasn’t ticking so it probably wasn’t a bomb...

Curiosity winning out at last, I opened the box and peeked inside.

“Huh?”

I reached in and lifted out a tiny plastic model of a globe on a faux brass stand. It was slightly dusty and the plastic map was yellowed with age but it was well cared for enough that I could still make out the names and borders of each individual country. I placed it on my desk and touched one finger against the map, spinning it on its axis. A thin layer of dust scattered onto my desk, coating the just-cleaned surface in a layer of pale yellowish-gray and as the globe spun to a stop at last, a streak of red on its surface caught my eye.

It was a single dotted line, made with a Sharpie or something similar, marking a route between Japan and England. When I looked more closely at the two ends of the line, I noticed a tiny red star drawn at the location where Yokohama should be and another one drawn right on the dot marked as London.

“Is that from a client?” Atsushi asked, glancing up across empty desks as Kyouka stood a little to get a better look at it.

“Sorta...” I mumbled, scratching my head. “It’s actually from the guy I’m supposed to be investigating. But why would he give me this...?”

“Did he leave a note?” Kyouka asked, her blue eyes focused on the globe.

It looked a little like she wanted to spin it, too...

“Yeah, he did. He said it was a thank you present, for listening to him talk that day. But I still don’t get why he would give me something like this.”

I picked up the globe and reexamined it.

It didn’t look very expensive, but clearly in a decent enough condition that it was probably an item with more sentimental than monetary value.

Wait a minute...

I swiveled it from one side to another, staring at the red line between Yokohama and London. It wasn’t a completely straight line. It was curved around the map in the same way that a flight path would be. And if I looked a little more closely at the star near Yokohama, there was a very tiny straight line that went from Yokohama to Tokyo.

My eyes widened.

In his suicide note, Kei had mentioned parting ways at the airport. Did Kei or Shin have plans to visit London before tragedy intervened?

I got to my feet and ran for the coat rack with my messenger bag on it.

“Eh? Kusunoki-san?” Atsushi called, swiveling around to look at me, along with Kyouka. “Where are you going?”

“Back to the university,” I explained, stuffing the globe into my bag as best I could. I buckled down the top of the bag and smushed it in further.

“I need to ask the professor some questions about this.”

***

Glancing at my phone one more time, I stuffed it back into my coat pocket and checked my surroundings to make sure I was going the right way.

Not wanting to lose my way like last time, I’d made sure to download a map of the campus while I was on the train earlier so I could get to the history department as quickly as possible. I had definitely been going the right way the first time I was here but without any people around to ask for directions, I probably would’ve ended up on the other side of campus before figuring out where I should actually be.

I could feel the globe smacking hollowly against the inside of my messenger bag as I moved past the tree-lined path, I found myself standing in the central clearing Natsuki had mentioned before. On my immediate right was a collection of buildings, neat and rectangular in shape, with rows of green-tinted glass windows facing the clearing and gleaming in the sun. Further ahead were even more buildings, towering over the trees in the far distance.

The commute hadn’t taken that long, but the sun was hanging lower in the sky than it had before and students and faculty alike were beginning to trickle out of the buildings and head out. I tucked my hands into my pockets as I walked through the crowd but I kept my head up and my eyes straight ahead, searching for the building Professor Matusyama was working in.

By the time I found it, the crowd had pretty much dispersed and I found myself walking into a quiet, tidy building that smelled of books and coffee. I made my way to the elevator and pushed the button.

“Excuse me, Miss,” a man called out to me from behind his desk. “I’m sorry but office hours have ended already. If you’re looking for one of the professors upstairs, you’re gonna have to send an email instead.”

“Oh, uh that’s okay,” I said quickly, “it’ll just be a minute. I promised to help Professor Matsuyama with something after hours and—”

“Oh, you’re one of Matsuyama’s students?” the man asked, his eyes instantly widening in surprise. “Oh geez, I hope you’re not here to dispute a grade or something because you’re gonna have a tough time doing that now that it’s after the fifth.”

I blinked at him.

“Huh?”

“I guess it’s not surprising the students didn’t get the email,” the man mumbled, more to himself than to me. He scratched his head. “But you’d think he’d at least tell his class—”

“Er, I’m sorry,” I interrupted, prompting the man to look back up at me, “but I’m not actually here to dispute a grade. I just need to talk to him for a second. Is he...”

I glanced at the elevator as it pinged, signaling its arrival.

“Is he not upstairs right now?”

“Kid,” the man stated, looking perplexed, “there’s no one on that floor any more. Didn’t you hear?”

I swallowed, an uneasy feeling twisting in my gut.

“Hear what...?”

“The whole department’s been downsized,” the man said, as the elevator doors opened on my right. “Professor Matsuyama was let go just this morning.”

S1 ED 1

[emeraldwaves]

Title: A Dragon’s Needs Pairing:  Todomomo Rating: E Word Count:  5,411 Read on Ao3 Summary:  

The more time she spends with Todoroki Shouto, Momo finds herself falling for the human. With the lunar eclipse right around the corner, she tries to keep emotions in check.

A birthday fic for @amaisenshi <3 I know how much you love this verse :3

The first time Todoroki Shouto kissed Momo it took her completely off guard.

They had been studying together, Momo going through and showing him various books and texts which highlighted the many cultures of her people. She had never met someone who was so interested in dragons.

Then again, she had never met a human before either. Still, no one else in their village had ever really taken an interest in dragon history before.

"So you see, magic has always been a part of us. An important part," she explained, gesturing excitedly to the books. Her wings fluttered, her tail swishing back and forth.

"I see," he said, his eyes glancing at the scales on her arms.

At first she had been a little embarrassed, not having the ability to hide her dragon scales, wings and tail... but Todoroki was fascinated by it. Over the first few days of their study sessions, she had grown to embrace it.

Her cheeks flushed and she turned her gaze to the book. "But perhaps we could find more information about humans in another book. I-I apologize, Todoroki," she bowed. "I-I got a little carried away."

"It's fine, Yaoyorozu," he said. "I enjoy hearing about it."

"Right! History is so fascinating. Things are so different from when dragons and humans used to work together," she sighed.

"I wish it hadn't stopped," he said, his voice much quieter than normal, his dual colored eyes staring at her dark ones.

She swallowed, taken by his expression. She had never expected a human to be so... beautiful?

"M-Me too," she stammered.

It was then he leaned forward and kissed her. His lips were soft against hers, and she let out a small squeak, shocked by the action. Her eyes fluttered shut and she applied pressure back, leaning into the kiss.

His hand had come up to her cheek, caressing her, his fingers brushing over the dark scales glistening on her face. His touch was like fire, burning deep inside of her, making her stomach churn. And yet, his finger cooled her skin, sending shivers down each vertebrae of her spine.

He pulled back slowly, his eyes staring at her lips. "I-I'm sorry, Yaoyorozu, I-I don't know what came over me-"

"N-No!" she said, waving her hand quickly. "I-I liked it."

"Okay. I wouldn't want to offend you," he admitted, his cheeks a gentle shade of red.

"No, it's really fine," she said.

And it was.

In fact, she wouldn't have minded if they did it again.

And that was the problem. Momo couldn't stop thinking about Todoroki kissing her.

In the days that followed, she wondered what his lips would feel like against hers, as if she had forgotten what had occurred only a few days prior. Occasionally, she would also wonder what his lips could feel like against her jaw or her neck. These were horribly perverse thoughts she had never had before.

Thoughts about a human no less.

Momo had never been one to care much about mating. Kyouka and Mina had found their mates in Denki and Eijirou, and they were all very much in love. Momo, however, much preferred to be reading and studying. Even during the mating season, she often strayed from the rest of the group.

It wasn't that she didn't have those emotions, but she would fight the urges down until the mating moon disappeared.

But now, with Todoroki, she was feeling those urges all the time. Mating season wasn't even close. And humans didn't have to worry about mating during the cycles of the moon, so he wasn’t affecting her. Not like that at least.

"Are you okay, Yaoyorozu?" Todoroki asked, peering at her over the book.

"Hm?" she squeaked, the book almost dropping out of her hands when she met his eyes. "I, uhm, I'm fine!"

"Your cheeks are red," he said, his fingers curling over the edge of the book. He placed his hand on the back of her head. "Are you sick? Wait... do dragons get sick?"

She slammed her eyes shut. If she thought about his hand touching her body it would only make things worse. "I-I'm not sick! I'm fine!" Scales popped up over her cheeks, her control on her magic slipping.

"Your scales," he whispered, brushing his fingers over her cheek. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I-I promise! I think I just... need some water!" she exclaimed, jumping up and slamming the book down. "Are you okay spending the rest of the day by yourself?" she asked, and he nodded, looking shocked by how quickly she moved. "I believe these books have everything you need to know about dragon fighting techniques, I'll be back soon!"

She dashed out of the library faster than she ever had, leaving Todoroki alone and flabbergasted.

Panting, she knew she had to keep these feelings to herself. Humans and dragons didn't mate.

Except... apparently they did. Or so Uraraka and Bakugou proved after they returned from their travels. They had bonded, and while that didn't always include mating, everyone could see how possessive Bakugou was with Uraraka.

"Is it normal?" Todoroki asked one day after Bakugou and Uraraka’s return. He carried a stack of books over to the table.

"Hm? Is what normal?" She pulled through notebooks of her own writing, desperate to find something. Todoroki had asked for more information on the magical bond, though not many texts existed about it. It truly was an ancient form of magic, and it was quite the feat that Bakugou and Uraraka had completed it. "The ritual?" she asked. "Not exactly, it's a dead form of magic, but if they were able to recreate it."

"No, humans and dragons being together romantically," he stated, staring directly at her.

She clutched a notebook to her chest, the wind practically knocked out of her with how blunt he had spoken. Momo didn't quite know how to respond. Was this a test? If she said no, would he assume he could never kiss her again. That wasn't what she wanted! Then again, if she said it was normal, he would most likely figure out she was lying...

Swallowing, she glanced to the side. "It's... hard to say. Given that... dragons have not had contact with humans for many decades and we have erased much of our history, we can't know what would have been normal." She tucked a piece of her hair behind her ear. "That being said, from what I've read and now witnessed, the magical bond is a very deep and intimate connection. It only makes sense it would lead to..." She trailed off, tapping her fingers against the surface of the desk. "Well," she muttered, "those types of things."

"I see," Todoroki said, pressing his finger to his lips, deep in thought.

"The ritual is such a risk, putting your magic on the line for another person. I believe it would require a great deal of trust," she continued, a small laugh slipping from her lips. "Admittedly, I'm surprised Bakugou was able to achieve that level of connection with anyone. He's very..."

"Harsh," Todoroki said, finishing her thought.

"Yes, a bit gruff," she nodded.

"I was relieved to find out not all dragons are like him," Todoroki admitted.

With a sigh, Momo shook her head. "Of course not! Bakugou is very extreme!" She laughed a bit more before clearing her throat. "A-Anyway, I apologize I can't answer your question better."

"You answered it just fine," he said, turning back to the book without saying anything more.

It was often difficult to understand Todoroki. At first, she thought it was a human thing, but Uraraka was so easy to get along with.

Todoroki simply confused her.

~~

And then she almost killed him.

It happened during the fight against Kaminari and Mineta. She'd been hit with a blast of lightning, right in her chest, sending her and Todoroki plummeting to the ground. Of course this was right after Todoroki said he trusted her.

After the battle was won and they returned to their village, Momo was ready to leave Todoroki to tend to his wounds and probably never talk to her again after almost killing him and draining him of his magic. Instead, he had grabbed her wrist and pulled her into a hug.

"T-Todoroki!" she gasped.

"Yaoyorozu," he whispered, pressing his nose against her neck. Her breath halted, hitching in her throat. She could feel every tickle of his breath against her warm skin. "Are you okay?"

"M-Me?" she asked. "I should be asking that of you!"

"What?" he asked, pulling back. He gripped her shoulders.

"My magic is returning and it has healing properties, the wound on my chest will heal in no time, but you are a human and I almost let you..." She trailed off; speaking the words out loud were far too painful.

"I'm fine, some bruises and scrapes, but I'm alive. You were the one injured. Maybe I could assist in healing you?"

"I-I," she stammered, her heart throbbing against her chest. "I could never ask that of you. You gave me so much of your magic, I promise I'll be just fine. I'm... I'm only sorry to have broken your trust."

"Broken my trust?" he asked, tilting his head to the side. He always did that when he truly didn't understand something.

"When I offered you a ride, you told me you trusted me and I broke that trust," she said.

"Yaoyorozu," he began, shaking his head, "you didn't break anything. I still trust you, even more so. You put your life on the line to keep us both safe. I only wish I’d had the means to protect you easier."

Her cheeks flushed at that, not expecting him to forgive her so quickly. She pressed her teeth into her bottom lip. "Maybe we could... train together," she suggested.

"I would love that."

The look on his face, the excitement twinkling in his eyes, it stirred within her. She wanted to train with him, and spend as much time as she could. She didn’t want to lose him, like she almost had. And that was when she realized she loved him.

~~

Training with Todoroki only made her crush on him even more difficult than it already was. It didn't help that the lunar eclipse was quickly approaching, especially given how close their bodies were while her and Todoroki were training.

He was fascinated by her dragon form, making it easy for her to transform in front of him and actually hone her magic skills. It was mutually beneficial and there was a part of her that wondered if someday they could complete the magical bond ritual.

Still, neither of them discussed what they were to each other. They often kissed after practice, usually when Todoroki walked her home. It was always a chaste and gentle kiss, and Momo often longed to deepen it. But perhaps short kisses goodnight were a part of human customs.

However, the moon's tug on her body was making it exceedingly more difficult for her to avoid the feelings they hadn't discussed. There was a part of her that knew communication was the solution to all her problems but something about it terrified her. What if she spoke to Todoroki and he wasn't interested in her at all? Maybe she had misread the situation.

"You seem on edge today, Momo," Todoroki said, as Momo stood in their training area, lost in thought. The two had found a small clearing in the woods, perfect for them to work on various training techniques and hone their magic.

"D-Do I?" she said, whipping her head around to look at him. She still wasn’t used to him using her first name either. It made her heart flutter in her chest. "I'm sorry," she admitted. "I, uhm, I have been a little all over the place." Lost in her head was a far more accurate statement, but she was trying to focus as best she could.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked, stepping toward her. He pressed the back of his hand against her forehead. His hand was cool on her skin and it sent sparks down her arms, her body tingling. This was not a good time for him to be touching her... "You feel a bit warm. Is that normal for dragons?"

"E-Eh?!" she gasped and immediately backed away. "I-I'm fine! I suppose dragons do run a little hot compared to humans," she lied.

"I've never noticed before," Todoroki said.

Momo swallowed. "Y-You know I... I do think I'm feeling a bit under the weather. I should get home-"

"I'll walk you-"

"NO!" she yelled, clutching her hands to her chest. "N-No... I mean, I, uhm... It's alright. I don't know if humans can catch diseases dragons catch... It's really fine!"

She backed away from him quickly, leaving him standing in the middle of the field, utterly confused.

When she arrived at her small hut, she yanked the door open and stepped inside, collapsing against the door as it shut behind her. She sighed, air expelling from her lungs.

"What do I do?" she lamented, sweat rolling down her brow.

Instead of doing anything productive, she began to pace around the room. She let her wings out, flapping restlessly against her back. Flying around sounded nice, but she was terrified to shift into her dragon form, worried her body would really lose control if she did. "This is so frustrating," she whispered.

The moon had always bothered her, but this was the first time she felt trapped in her own skin, like something needed to come out or she would explode.

There was a slight knock on her door and she jumped, not expecting the interruption.

"W-Who is it?" she called out, praying it wasn't Todoroki coming to check on her. She couldn't handle that right now.

"It's Kyouka. Can I come in?"

"Oh, of course!" she said, smoothing her hands over her clothes as she let her wings fold back into her body.

The door swung open and Kyouka immediately wrinkled her nose. "I guess that answers that question," she muttered.

"What question?"

Kyouka folded her arms over her chest. "Todoroki came to my place and asked me to check on you. He said you were acting strange and he thought you had fallen ill. He was really worried. But now I get it. You just want to mate with him."

Momo's entire body felt hot, Kyouka's words washing over her. She wrapped her arms around herself and sat down on the couch. "Oh Kyouka. It's horrible!"

Raising her eyebrow, Kyouka looked confused. "It is? Sorry I don't... get it," she snorted, walking to sit next to her best friend.

"It is!" Momo said, staring at her. "I keep trying to avoid it, but the closer and closer we get to the eclipse, the harder it gets."

Kyouka snorted, chuckling at her. "Well yeah, that's kind of how it works."

"I-I can't force this sort of thing on him. He's a human! He doesn't understand these things. It was easy for you and Denki," she whispered. "You both were attracted to each others' scents and-"

"Yeah we're both dragons so it was a little easier, but that doesn't mean Todoroki doesn't care about you or... want you like that," Kyouka muttered.

"What? I-I'm not sure he does," Momo sighed. "I mean we have kissed a few times, usually just good night when he walks me home-"

"Momo, the guy came rushing to my hut the second you left. He was terrified something was wrong with you, or that he had done something wrong," Kyouka said, shaking her head. "I know you've never had urges as strong as me or Mina, but maybe it was just because you were waiting to meet him."

She stared down at her hands. It did make a bit of sense. Maybe her body had never reacted to anything because the person she was meant to be with wasn't around. Todoroki's scent was a very appealing one to her, despite being muted. Humans didn't have the same strong smells dragons did.

"Maybe..." she whispered.

"I mean your scent is really strong right now and you seem restless. I think you should talk with him," Kyouka said. She placed her hand on her shoulder. "It will go well, and you'll feel better after," she smirked. "I can definitely promise you that."

Momo covered her face, trying to hide her blush. "But... he's a human and I'm a dragon and-" she stammered, her thoughts rushing through her brain so fast she felt overwhelmed.

"So?" Kyouka shrugged. "If you're trying to make up excuses, that's a bad one," she laughed. "Katsuki and Ochako are perfectly happy together."

"You're right," she sighed, her hands flopping into her lap. "You're right. There's nothing I can do to avoid this... is there?"

"Unless you really want to suffer during the eclipse... I don't think you can," Kyouka sighed.

"Alright," she whispered. "When he comes by in the morning, I'll talk with him."

"Good," Kyouka smiled. "I promise it'll be okay. I survived being with Denki."

Momo giggled. "I guess you're right." She leaned back against the couch, praying this conversation wouldn't be a disaster.

~~

The next morning, Todoroki arrived as he always did. Bright and early, knocking on her door so they could train or go to the library.

"Good morning, Momo. I hope I'm not disturbing you if you're resting. If you still aren't feeling well, we could skip today. I could bring you something to eat?" he asked from outside her door.

She swallowed, clutching her hands together. The eclipse was only a few days away and Kyouka was right, she couldn't avoid this any longer.

"One moment!" she called out. Rushing to the front, she opened the door and stared at Todoroki. He really was so handsome, his cheeks smooth and soft. His dual-colored eyes looked at her with such concern, and she resisted her urge to kiss him right then. "Do you mind coming in for a moment?"

He glanced around, looking confused momentarily but said, "I don't mind."

"Okay," she nodded, stepping to the side. Shutting the door behind him, she led him over to the couch, taking a seat. "I thought it would be best to explain... why I've been acting strange."

"Oh? Are you okay?" he asked. Reaching forward, he covered her hand with his. "If you need anything-"

"W-Well," she stammered, clearing her throat. "You see, the lunar eclipse is... very soon. For dragons, it is a... special time."

"Mating season," he said bluntly. "We've researched it." He stared at her blankly.

"Yes," she said. "And I am... a dragon."

"Yes- Ah. I see," he said, glancing to the floor, his cheeks flushed. "Then I take it you are... looking for someone." She was surprised how disappointed he looked. His hand curled around hers, squeezing gently. "I-I understand."

Did... he? Why did he look so sad? Was this awkward for him?

Momo sucked in a deep breath, trying not to let her thoughts spiral. Now wasn't the time for it.

"Well… uhm," she swallowed. "I'm sorry. This is probably so strange for you. I know it isn't a thing humans experience so if it seems like too much, I don't want to ask anything of you that could be odd-"

"Wait. Me?" he asked, his gaze widening as he stared at her.

Momo bit down on her lip and nodded. "Yes, you."

The grip around her hand tightened. "But..."

"I-I know, I know! I'm sorry! It's probably incredibly weird for you, isn't it?!" she breathed out. "I-I mean you're a human and I'm a dragon and this all-"

"Momo, please," he said, squeezing her hand as he leaned toward her. "I-I'm only surprised you meant me. I thought you were trying to tell me you needed to find a dragon to mate with, but... you're asking me?"

"A dragon? N-No!" She shook her head quickly. "Shouto... there's no one I have connected with like this. You understand me, you get excited to study with me and are so interested in our history and... all of that means so much to me," she breathed out. "There's no one else I would rather mate with... but... I was terrified of crossing a boundary of human customs."

He blinked. "You haven't crossed any boundaries and... I didn't know if you... wanted to be with a human."

"Of course I do!" she said, clutching his hand between hers. "You are the most interesting person I've ever met and... I-I mean your scent is very pleasing too. Despite being a human, you still have a very distinctive smell."

"I suppose that's a good thing then," he chuckled.

"It is! But... It's made training very difficult these past few days."

"Because of the moon?" he asked, clearly trying to understand the situation.

"Yes," she admitted, letting out a sigh. "If this is too much for you-"

He raised his hands up to her cheeks, cupping her face. "Momo," he began and her heart thrummed in her chest. "It's not too much. I want to... assist you."

It felt like she was about to melt out of his hands. Oh, she wanted that more than anything else. With a sigh, she nuzzled against his touch. "Are you sure?"

"I've never been more sure," he said, pulling her in for a kiss. She let out a soft whine, pressing her lips against his, desperate to finally be getting what she needed, what she kept fighting. "Tell me what you need."

"I-I just need you," she said, scales appearing on her cheeks. Wings flapped out behind her, her grip on her magic already slipping.

"Okay," he whispered, kissing her again. He held her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing over the scales on her cheeks.

This kiss was deeper, more passionate and he pressed his tongue into her mouth. She moaned, her fingers curling into his tunic. His breath was hot against hers, pulling her closer. She wanted this for so long, no, needed it. Her body trembled, sweat dripping down her neck. "Shouto," she whispered, pulling away from his lips.

"What?" he panted, leaning forward to peck her lips, his hands, sliding down to her hips. "Is... is this not-"

"No, it's perfect," she sighed, leaning in to kiss him again. "I've been wanting this for so long," she whispered, her fingers gently stroking his jaw.

"Me too," he said.

"Really?" she panted, moving closer to him.

"Yes," he said, his thumbs tracing circles around her hip. "I just... didn't know how if it was okay to... take things this far."

"You can... take them as far as you want," she whispered, her cheeks flushing. She had never been so forward with someone, especially in this way, but Todoroki was such a gentleman about it...

She really had found her mate, and she wanted nothing more than to be with him.

He gripped her hips and pulled her into his lap, and she gasped, spreading her legs to straddle him. His hand slipped around the back of her neck and pulled her down for another kiss, his tongue swiping across her lower lip. "Is this okay, Momo?" he breathed.

The sound of her name made her skin tingle.

"Shouto. I-I want to mate with you..." she said softly.

"I want that too," he mumbled, nibbling on her lip. He kissed her again, this time, his hands slipped under her shirt.

"Ah," she gasped, letting her head fall back. His fingers were a mixture of hot and cold against her skin. They tickled her stomach and cupped under her breasts, gently groping at her. "Shouto," she whimpered. This was what her body needed, craved.

He leaned forward and licked her neck, kissing up the side of it, pecking and nipping at her flesh. He pulled the shirt over her head and tossed it to the floor, still kissing and sucking on her neck. His tongue rolled against her skin and she only wanted more. More. More. More of his mouth and more of his hands touching her.

His thumbs brushed over her nipples and a jolt of pleasure shot up her spine. "Shouto!" she gasped.

"Good?"

"Yes," she breathed, her chest heaving toward him. Her panting deepened, and her wings fluttered as his fingers rolled over her hardening buds. He stroked her and tugged gently, her body ready to explode. Her hips moved against him involuntarily, rolling down against the bulge in his pants. She blushed, happy to know she wasn't the only one who was feeling this.

He trailed lower, his lips running along her collarbone. Momo's breathing grew shallow, her body desperate with anticipation the lower he moved. He kissed softly at the upper curve of her breast, and he scooped under it. Flicking his tongue out, he lapped at her tit before wrapping his mouth around her nipple completely.

Burying her hands into his hair, she pressed him closed to her, letting him suck and lick at her nipple. It felt good, his tongue rolling against her, wetting her skin.

He sucked on harder, swirling his tongue around her bud. The pleasure was almost painful, making her itch for more. Her core burned deep inside of her and she wanted him to touch her lower.

"S-Shouto, I need..." she whined, her body heating up the longer he played with her breasts. He swapped to her other, sucking on her nipple while his finger rolled over her other.

"What?" he breathed. His breath was hot against her chest, making her shiver. "Tell me. Anything you need."

"Lower," she choked out.

He nodded, slipping his hand into the waist of her skirt. He touched at the small curve of her stomach, moving his hand between her legs. The tip of his finger brushed against her clit and she trembled, spreading her legs even more for him. She ached to feel him inside and when he moved lower to push a finger inside of her, she let out a breathy moan. "Please..." she begged, rolling her hips down.

Looking up at her as he continued to suckle on her chest, he pressed his finger deep inside of her. She couldn't help the way her body began to thrust down, trying to push his finger in deeper. Her clit brushed against his palm and she moaned loudly. "S-Shouto. More," she begged.

It didn't take long for him to add a second finger, and soon after, a third. He rolled his palm up against her clit, letting her hump down against his hand. Her walls clenched around his fingers and she was so close to reaching her peak. Between his fingers, and his wet mouth around her breasts, she could barely take it. "Shouto, I-I want you to... mate me," she mumbled, panting heavily.

He let go of her breast with a pop, licking his lips. He lapped at her nipple once more. "Are you sure?" he asked, slowing the movement of his fingers.

"I need you..." she nodded.

"Alright," he whispered. He pulled his fingers from her and she moved back, slipping out of her skirt and under garments. She was so desperate for him, her body's needs taking over her mind. She didn't have time to process being naked in front of him.

She watched him kick his pants off, his cock hard against his body. She swallowed, blushing at the sight. She thought it would be odd, but she knew she wanted it inside of her... to be connected to Todoroki in a way they hadn't before. She wanted him to be her mate.

"Are you sure?" he asked once more, when she straddled him again.

She nodded, and he gripped himself, stroking up and down a few times. A hiss slipped between his lips and she lifted herself up, her hand pressing against her shoulder. He lined his tip up with her entrance, and her body shook, her wings fluttering again.

Slowly, she began to lower herself down onto him, her walls stretching as she took his cock. "Ngh..." she moaned, her head falling forward. "Oh gosh..."

"T-Too much?" he asked, stroking her cheek. He was panting, his own cheeks flushed as he twitched up toward her.

She sat on him, his cock completely buried inside of her. "N-No," she moaned. "I-I just... need a moment." Her walls throbbed around him, her body feeling so full. She hadn't expected this to feel so good, to be exactly what she needed. His hands gripped her waist, holding her in place, his thumbs touching at her hip bones.

"Me too," he admitted, sighing a few times to steady himself. His hips jerked up a few times and she let out a squeak. A moan rumbled in Todoroki's throat and Momo took a deep breath, pulling herself up only to push back down. The way his cock brushed against her walls was enough to make her body shake.

She wanted to do it again.

She pulled up and sat back down again, Todoroki's hips thrusting to meet her when she did. She gasped, her pace picking up the more times she did it. She could barely control herself, her mind screaming at her for more.

Momo moaned, bouncing faster, her knees pressing into her couch. Her breasts flopped in front of her and Todoroki's hands moved from her waist to grope her bouncing tits. He leaned forward, wrapping his mouth around one, his tongue rapidly flicking over it.

It only made Momo want to move faster, chasing the pleasure rising in her core. She bounced down and began to roll her hips while on his cock.

"A-ah... ngh... Momo," he gasped, bringing his hands around to grope at her ass instead. She panted, leaning forward while Todoroki stroked over her smooth cheeks. She lifted her ass and brought it back down, the angle making it easy for her to thrust down against his cock.

"Hah, hah, S-Shouto," she whimpered, slamming her ass down against his thighs, the sound of their skin slapping together echoed in the air.

He gripped her ass, helping her move and he let his head fall back against the couch. "Hgn... Momo... I-I can't hold on much longer."

"I-I don't think I can either," she whined. She reached up to position her hands on his shoulders and she rolled her hips forward, bouncing up and down on his cock.

"Momo!" he grunted, lurching forward, his finish shooting into her. His body twitched as he came hard inside. Groaning, he brought his fingers back to her clit, rubbing at her wet nub.

"Oh, gosh," she moaned, letting her head fall back, her body still bouncing on his cock as she rode out her orgasm. Her walls clenched around him and her legs shook, her slick rushing out of her and coating his cock. "Shouto!" she whined, the waves of pleasure releasing from her tense body.

She panted, coming down from the pleasing throbbing in her body. Her hands gripped tightly at his shoulders and she leaned down to kiss him shakily, her lips pecking at his.

"Did it help?" he asked softly.

"Yes," she breathed out. "I feel... so much more relaxed." Her eyes fluttered shut, a pleasant sigh escaping her lips. She kept straddling him, leaning forward to rest against his shoulder, her body completely spent.

His hands trailed up her back, caressing over the base of her wing. "I'm glad. You are... incredible."

"I-I don't know about that," she muttered, still feeling a bit shy about the whole thing, despite having mated with him.

"You are, my mate," he purred, leaning in to kiss her.

Her cheeks flushed, hearing him call her that made her want to soar around the room. Her stomach churned and she could've done it all again. She had a feeling the eclipse was going to be better than she originally thought, if it was anything like this.

"Thank you, my mate," she whispered, kissing him back. "We, uhm, might have to do this again, especially close to the eclipse."

He chuckled, cupping her cheek. His thumb brushed over the scales on her face. "I will do whatever you need."

She smiled, leaning in to rub her nose against his. "I'm so lucky," she whispered.

She truly knew she was; she had a perfect human for a mate.

[goddamnitdazai]

Mafia!Atsushi

Mafia!Atsushi headcanons // AU (someone asked and I really liked writing this au ??)

Forewarning this universe is dark because, while Atsushi was kind of on the edge of becoming a criminal to survive, I think in order to change his personality to fit the Port Mafia he would need something traumatic to trigger that vast of a mindset change. { Background: Dazai found Atsushi on the edge of the port staring blankly at the water, contemplating jumping. Dazai managed to get the story out of him, and how he’d run away from the orphanage because of his ability. During one of his uncontrollable transformations he ended up accidently killing one of the other kids and decided to run away and end his own life. At first Mori allowed Dazai to mentor Atsushi for a little, but decided he was better suited under Kouyou and Chuuya’s watch. By the time Dazai left the Port Mafia, Atsushi had moved high enough to become Akutagawa’s superior, but still acted as a partner rather than a mentor unless the situation called for it. }  

• His loyalty to the Port Mafia nearly rivals Chuuya’s. To him they are the people that accepted him despite his short-comings and are the reason he is still breathing. He doesn’t let this loyalty skew his version of morals. If his mission gives him the option of letting a person live rather than killing them he chooses to spare their life. He finds usefulness in people who are not exclusively an enemy or are willing to switch sides. Kouyou taught him to be charismatic and use his words to lull people into switching sides or giving off information, but if he needs to kill an enemy for the better of his family than he does so without hesitating. • Even though he doesn’t get along well with Akutagawa he understands his feelings towards Dazai and wanting his acceptance. If Chuuya or Kouyou ever left without a word and without recognition he would use the same fuel Akutagawa has to keep going. But, he hates Akutagawa’s recklessness and impulsivity.  Especially if it means unnecessary deaths. There have been multiple occasions of them fighting each other after Akutagawa makes a decision without discussing it with Atsushi. • Atsushi wasn’t surprised when Dazai left, and he is one of the few people who isn’t angry with him. Even after discovering he left to be a part of the Armed Detective Agency. He is, however, a bit jealous that Dazai has the ability to let his past crimes fall to the wayside and not stop him from moving forward. Atsushi sometimes wonders if he could do the same, but he feels such a strong tie to the Port Mafia he figures he doesn’t know if he would be able to fight against them if he needed to.

• Atsushi lived with Chuuya before he became an executive. Chuuya taught him how to cook and how to press a dress shirt, and Kouyou taught him proper table manners. The first time Chuuya got him drunk he ended up throwing up in a potted plant at a very important political party and fell asleep in the kitchen. Chuuya didn’t allow him to drink anything for a few months, and Atsushi wasn’t exactly upset about that decision. • Even without his tiger strength Atsushi is extremely agile and strong. Being so malnourished and frail from the orphanage Kouyou immediately put him on a diet to supplement the loss and had him train with Chuuya. Being his mentor, Chuuya felt it very important that he learn martial arts as his ability could greatly benefit from that knowledge. There are some instances Atsushi doesn’t really need to transform to punch someone through a wall, but he always does when he and Akutagawa are fighting each other. • Atsushi isn’t a big fan of Mori. He sees him as his boss and respects him, but there is a vibe Mori gives off that makes the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. It’s not something Atsushi dwells on, but he does hate being left alone in Mori’s present. He’s entirely awkward and suddenly loses all the guidance Kouyou gave to him about proper conversation. • Atsushi was against bringing Kyouka into the Port Mafia, because he really hated bringing children in that hadn’t done something unforgivable (according to his own standards) beforehand. He had already taken a life when Dazai found him but Kyouka was just alone. Instead of letting Akutagawa handle her training Atsushi pulled rank and decided to look after her along with Kouyou. Another fight broke out because of this, and Chuuya slammed them both into the ground until they both agreed to shut the fuck up and go home. • Gin was appointed to the black lizard and trained as an assassin because of Atsushi. At that point in time Akutagawa had no pull, and instead of letting her rot in the slums Atsushi suggested bringing her in to the Port Mafia after Dazai left. Gin and he are relatively close, and he’s one of the few people Gin talks to at work, as long as they’re alone.

[pyropsychiccollector]

Natza Week, Day One: Pride

            The tension in the Guild was palpable. Natsu had recklessly run off to challenge Zeref, and everyone was rallying to go and back him up. Well. Mostly everyone.

            “Tch… That brat…!” Laxus muttered in annoyance. Next to him, Gray punched his palm in anticipation.

            “Change of strategy it is, then! Let’s go!!” The Ice Make Wizard grinned, and stopped in his tracks when a certain scarlet knight spread her arms out in front of him.

            “Wait.” Erza interjected. “We’ll move according to the First’s plan. Let’s leave Zeref to Natsu.”

            The entire Guild went still at Erza’s words. For them, this was extraordinarily out of character for Erza Scarlet. She was always looking out for them, and the members of Team Natsu were no exception. Erza was especially close with Gray and Natsu, so it was even more outlandish for her to say such a thing in this instance. It was one thing to believe in your friends against overwhelming odds, but this was the Black Wizard Zeref they were talking about here. An immortal man who created Demons, the Eclipse Gate, and who knows what else. This wasn’t a member of the Balam Alliance; Zeref was a frightening legend, and Erza was telling them to let Natsu go in alone against such a monster?!

            “Are you serious?” Gray exploded, speaking for the entirety of the Guild. “We’re talking about Zeref here! He has the Book of END, y’know?!”

            Rather than be angry at Gray for speaking out, the scarlet knight remained calm as she explained her reasoning. Her face was carefully kept blank, and her posture was relaxed.

            “Natsu said he’s got a secret technique to defeat Zeref, so… he’ll be alright.” Erza promised. She couldn’t help but picture him and the confidence he exuded when he boasted about this technique. In the past, she would have easily written that off as boyish arrogance. However, they had come a long way since the days of fighting Eisenwald and Phantom Lord. One by one, he steadily added to the list of his accomplishments – taking down Jellal, Zero, Zancrow, Hades, Future Rogue, Jackal, Franmalth, Mard Geer, and who knows how many others. There were times when he saved her – from Jellal and from Kyouka – and he had saved a lot more people than just her. At times, he did require help to take the enemy down – the threat was too great for one man to handle it alone.

            And yet… this was one such time she felt she could trust him to handle it on his own. Maybe it was because of recent events with Avatar, and saving her from falling from Ajeel’s ship, but Natsu had grown amazingly strong. If he said that he could defeat Zeref… then he would make it happen, somehow, some way. They were beyond the days of when he was training to surpass her. He’d long since reached that point of equaling her in strength, and there was no doubt in her mind that he was stronger than her now. How much stronger remained to be seen, but that was trivial at this point.

            Gray heaved a sigh of frustration as he got up into the scarlet knight’s face.

            “Are you out of your fucking mind?! You’ve got too much faith in him, Erza!!” Gray hated doubting Natsu like this, but now wasn’t the time for mere ‘belief’. There was a very real chance Natsu could die here, and Erza was so damn calm!

            The air became uncomfortable in the Guildhall as Erza and Gray had their standoff. It was stifling, and they could use one of Erza’s buster swords to slice the tension. Carla seemed unsure of what to say, but in her mind, she knew Gray had a point about placing too much faith in the Fire Dragon Slayer, even with all of his past accomplishments. If it had been any other enemy, she would have sided with Erza. Wendy, on the other hand, took stock in Erza’s words, but she was too nervous to say anything. And Juvia was shocked at how forceful the object of her affections was being about this. She’d never seen her Beloved speak out against Erza with such ferocity. Never. Even when the stakes were high, Gray could keep calm and composed, but this time was different. Juvia could tell.

            “Gray-sama…” The Water mage murmured.

            It seemed like an eternity before Erza responded. She never once broke eye contact, and she managed to keep her body relaxed, but there was a biting edge to her tone. A tone that conveyed disappointment and bitterness.

            “So you’re telling me, you don’t believe in him?” The knight accused, her face now marred with a frown and hard eyes. Erza loathed coming down hard like this, but it was important to her that Gray understood. Out of everyone, he should have been the first to support her, and Natsu by proxy; and yet here he was, worrying over the Dragon Slayer. Natsu had always supported them in their own fights; he had left Gray to fight Lyon back on Galuna, and he listened when she said she could handle Kyouka of the Nine Demon Gates.

            Was this fight important? Of course it was. This was an uphill battle they were facing – surrounded on all sides by powerful foes that even Master was wary of. How could this not be a monumental struggle for them? Natsu was just taking the initiative and gunning for the enemy’s leader. Defeating Zeref would be a major boon for them. It would raise everyone’s morale. Erza was not insinuating Natsu should fight the entirety of the war for them – she was saying Zeref was his fight, because he said that he could do it. Their fight would be with Zeref’s armies. Natsu would not be able to tackle both Zeref and the forces of Alvarez, so they needed to focus and make his task easier.

            Couldn’t Gray see that?

            If his eyes softening were any indication, he was at least beginning to.

            “Okay, okay! Stop this already…” Lucy begged as she got between them. Her eyes and nose scrunched together nervously.

            Erza knew the Celestial mage didn’t like them fighting with each other, but this time it had been unavoidable. Because despite everything he had done up to this point, it appeared everyone was quick to doubt Natsu. She could not let that stand. Doubt your own abilities, and you’ve already lost the war. Natsu was trying to tell them this by volunteering for the hardest battle of the war, because no one else would, not without significant backup. And they just didn’t have the option of doing that, surrounded as they were.  

            “What do we do now, First?” Mira asked with a light nervousness to her tone. Mavis frowned in thought before nodding her head at Erza.

            “Well, let’s place our hopes on Natsu, then.” The blonde decided. “His moves might seem reckless, but I’m sure there’s a reason behind them. We’re cornered from all sides… He must’ve thought that the fastest way to end it all was to take the enemy’s leader down, and I must agree, that is the most effective way.”

            Erza couldn’t help shooting the First Master a grateful look. If their tactician could understand Natsu’s motivations, then the others would be convinced as well. Words could not describe her relief, as even Gray backed off.

            “Let’s just believe in him, shall we, Gray?” Mavis prompted the Ice Wizard. Gray rubbed the back of his head.

            “Yeah, well… it’s not like I don’t…” The raven-haired man sighed. “It’s just… y’know, him going out there all alone… and stuff…”

            No one was buying the tough guy act. Even though they were rivals, Gray did care for Natsu. Even Juvia could see it.

            “Well, he’s not really alone, now is he…?” Carla asked with a kind smile. “Happy’s there with him…”

            Erza could only nod with a tiny smile tugging at her lips. Not only was Happy there with him, they all were, in spirit. It didn’t matter if there were battlefields between them; Erza would fight off the entire world to keep Natsu alive. Because he already did the same for her, for all of them, with every war they faced as a Guild.

            Although, her reasons for fighting could be said to be… slightly different from everyone else’s. Gray, Lucy, Mira, they all fought for a valuable, irreplaceable friend. Erza did as well. But for her, Natsu was more than “just” a precious member of her nakama. The funny thing about feelings is that they can change over time – grow into something you never imagined. Erza could now admit to herself that she loved Natsu Dragneel. His warrior’s pride was a part of his charm, and you could be sure that he kept his promises.

            And after this war was over, she would tell him exactly how she feels.

[thetactilepope]

Lessons in Thermodynamics: Chapter Three

{Previous Chapter} | [Chapter Index] | {Next Chapter}

Dissatisfaction

54 days to Winter Break

Thursday

It had only been four days since Momo had found out her test mark, and she could already feel the stress building. Like a splinter just below the skin, it was a constant source of irritation.

As she used yet another lunch hour to agonize over the few (barely) coherent notes she had made during those lessons, it occurred to her that at this rate, she’d probably burn out soon.

“Haven’t I been through this before?” She sighed, resting her head on her desk, “I can’t let myself get overwhelmed. It won’t do any good.”

Her resolve had carried her through many trials before, and this would be no exception. Hopefully.

Still, she felt like she needed to talk to someone, get all these thoughts out of her head, before she was overwhelmed. Keeping it all bottled up wouldn’t help, not at all. Suddenly, her phone buzzed, and she unlocked it to see a message from Jirou Kyouka.

{♫ Kyouka ♪}

[Hey! wanna grab some coffee after school?] [its been AGES since we talked]

[i have less trouble seeing Hagakure these days tbh]

[did u finally find a date or smth?]

Momo snorted, an amused smile forming on her face. She hadn’t meant to be so evasive recently, and she was glad Kyouka didn’t seem too mad.

[I’d love to get some coffee!] [my treat, since i’ve been so… out of it] [but I might spend most of the time venting…]

[ ; ) u know i’ll never turn down free stuff!!] [if that’s what u need its chill!]

[meet u at the usual spot, k?]

[Thank you, Kyouka]

Momo let out a sigh of relief, already feeling like a small weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

The café was crowded, but not uncomfortably so, and Momo found the low buzz of other conversations in the background rather soothing. She had missed hanging out with Kyouka like this more than she had realized.

“Yo! What’s up, Miss Vice-President?” a familiar voice called out brightly, and she smiled as Kyouka slid into the booth across from her.

“I wish I could say ‘Nothing’…” She sighed, letting her shoulders slump forward, “I’ve just… had a rough couple of days, is all.”

Kyouka nodded sympathetically, placing her bag on the table, off to the side, “You look like you could use some caffeine. And some serious best-friend talk.”

“Is it that obvious?” She asked, a little mortified by the thought, “I thought I was keeping it together rather well.”

“You are. I don’t think too many people picked up on it. Like, maybe three, including myself.”

She waited for Kyouka to elaborate on who exactly had noticed, but the other girl had already moved on.

“Now, let’s go get our drinks.” Kyouka leaned forward, a serious look on her face, “And then, you can tell me exactly what’s going on.”

-Wham!-

Shouto hit the mat hard, falling victim (quite literally) to one of Midoriya’s favoured throws. Though it knocked the air from his lungs, he didn’t stay down long. Rolling quickly to his feet, he turned towards his sparring partner, lashing out with a right hook. As the blow was deflected, Shouto tried to step in closer, but his legs were swept out from underneath him and fell to the mat again.

“I, uh, think… Why don’t we call it a day soon?” Izuku said hurriedly, helping Shouto back to his feet, “I’ve, um, got a lot of homework, so…”

“It’s OK, I know I’m not at my usual level today.” His reply was calm, as he stretched his arms out behind his back, “You don’t have to pretend there’s another reason.”

Midoriya shook his head furiously, clearly a little upset at his matter-of-fact tone, “Nonono, that’s not it! I swear!”

“I mean, you do seem a bit, well, distracted, but, I-I don’t…” His friend looked down for a moment, “These no-Quirk sparring sessions, they help a lot. Whatever ‘level’ you’re at.”

“But what if I’m not good enough?” That fear has been running through Shouto’s mind for the past two days, ready to spring up at any time.

He hates the thought of letting his friends down. Of failing.

His father’s voice is lurking there too, just below the surface, waiting to tear him down as always. He can practically hear him now.

“You must be the best. There are no other options, Shouto.” Endeavor declares, a cold rage burning in his eyes, “Weakness must be crushed. If someone can’t cut it on their own, you shouldn’t lower yourself to help them.”

“That’s not true, you bastard. You might see it that way,” He replies harshly, less fearful in his own head, “but I’m not you. I will never be you.”

Midoriya gave him a concerned look, and Shouto shook his head to clear it, settling back into a combat stance.

“My apologies, I… got lost in thought for a moment.”

The other boy settled into a similar posture, albeit one that was more defensive.

“O-OK, if you’re sure you’re alright to keep going…” Midoriya replied, expression serious, “You are sure, right?”

He charged forward, as if that were answer enough.

“Man, I knew something was up with you lately, but I didn’t realize it was that serious!” Kyouka exclaimed, setting down her drink and leaning forward, “He really said you might lose your spot in the Hero Course?”

Momo nodded, taking another sip of her own coffee, “Yeah. It’s… it’s a touch spot, no doubt.”

She had been trying to keep her voice bright, but she couldn’t quite hold back the edge of anxiety any longer. Telling Kyouka had helped, but the shame and anger still bubbled up as she had recalled the events of three days prior.

“What happens if I fail?”

The question loomed in her mind, and she couldn’t seem to find an acceptable answer. Even just the thought of having to tell her parents was almost unbearable.

“We had such high hopes…”

“What a waste, you could have been a wonderful hero.”

Their imaginary voices jeered at her, much harsher than her parents would ever be, and she felt tears begin to well up in her eyes.

Suddenly, Kyouka’s cheery tone snapped her back to reality, and she looked up to see a confident smile on her best friend’s face, “Hey, why d’you look like it’s a done deal already?”

“You have plenty of time, right? Don’t start beating yourself up about this now.”

“When you put it that way…” She couldn’t help but grin in response, “Things don’t seem so bad.”

“What a lame thing to say…” The understatement made her snort almost immediately after she said it, and from the way Kyouka was rolling her eyes, it was evident she agreed.

Twirling one of her earlobe-jacks around her finger, she suddenly shifted the conversation in a slightly different direction.

“So, who else knows about this? Is it just me an’ you?”

Momo shook her head, and fiddled with her straw, “Todoroki-san knows the basics, but not about the potential consequences. He’s the one tutoring me, and… keeping him in the dark, it just doesn’t sit right with me.”

“Todoroki’s helping you again? First the Practical Exam and now this…” Kyouka raised an eyebrow, smirking slightly.

“Don’t put it like that, please.” She grimaced, looking down, “I feel bad enough about asking him for assistance as it is.”

“And, you’re sure you can trust him to keep quiet?” Kyouka paused, and then giggled, “Well, more quiet than usual, I mean. That guy’s practically mute.”

She frowned slightly at the derisive tone of her friend’s words and opened her mouth to protest but stopped as Kyouka raised her hands.

“Sorry, I guess that did sound pretty mean… He doesn’t really, well, talk to people, is all.” She sighed, taking a sip of her drink. “Anyways, have you two already started studying?”

“No, we’re planning to meet this Saturday, at the library.” Momo replied, “We both agreed prep time would be helpful.”

“Of course you did.” Kyouka’s agreement was accompanied by a good-natured eye roll, and they turned towards other topics, the kind that let her feel like everything was normal, at least for a little while. Momo let herself enjoy the moment, even if the anxiety wouldn’t vanish completely.

The two boys finished their cool-down stretches in silence, and Shouto tossed Izuku a freshly-chilled bottle of water before speaking up.

“Hey, Midoriya, can I ask you something?”

“Uh, sure! What’s on your mind?”

“Do you think I’d make a good teacher?”

His eyes went wide, the question clearly catching him off-guard. After a pause to collect his thoughts, he nodded, more to himself than Shouto.

“I guess so? I mean, you are smart, and you seem to understand that not everyone approaches stuff the same way, which goes a long way…” He muttered, the words almost too fast for the other boy to understand, “I might be inclined to say you lack the approachable nature necessary, but given that you’re better than Aizawa-Sensei, and he isn’t out of a job yet, that’s not really a concern.”

“It’s not a career choice I’d have considered for you, but every Pro should have a plan beyond just being a Hero, right? And if you’re already thinking that far ahead…”

“He thinks I meant a teacher like at Yuuei,” Shouto realized, waving a hand in front of Midoriya’s face in an attempt to snap him out of it.

“Ah, sorry, I got a little, um, carried away there, didn’t I?” He said apologetically, laughing quietly, “May I ask why you brought it up?”

“Someone needs my help with the physics unit. And I don’t know if I’ll be able to do a good enough job.” His reply wasn’t technically a lie, and while Momo had never asked him to keep their arrangement secret, he didn’t want word of it to spread.

“Oh, well, all you can really do is give it your all, right? That way, no matter what happens, you won’t have any regrets!”

There was a certainty in his voice that suddenly reminded Shouto of All-Might, and he found himself smiling slightly.

“Just give it my all, huh?” Nodding, he prepared to leave the training room, mind already on the half-finished overview waiting for him in his dorm.

Tonight was going to be busy.

There are fifty days until the retest.

[chvvva]

yesterday is another world

relationship: Motojirou Kajii/Yosano Akiko

prompt: Loss / Dancing / “Frankly my dear, I don’t give a damn.” - Margaret Mitchell, Gone with the Wind

rating: general audiences

read on ao3

[May, current year]

Evening is fast approaching, its ominous pointed shadows reaching for the riverside right next to a lively street. Its mechanical and beeping sounds get relentlessly drowned out by the curtain of rain that is keeping the girl waiting under a broad bridge, but rather than a jarring mix of discordant noises, it sounds like an elegant harmony that catches her attention and renews itself, not boring at all. Besides, it distracts her from the wait.

A prickly, bubbly, anachronistic energy wells up inside her body at every innocuous detail that reminds her of whom she’s waiting for, and it feels to close to fear to be joy, too close to joy to be fear. Like a teenager waiting for a fantasy that she only dared entertain as a secret of her heart to come true.

And what can she do besides stomaching it, because that’s the only thing to do to keep living, the only way the show can truly go on. So she stomachs it, and bits her lips with an anxious and mature passion, a raindrop rolling down her warm, grinning face. She’s beautiful, and knows this, because… Well, it’s raining. Everything is so damn beautiful under the rain.

“Yosano”, his voice gets to her, loud and somewhat uncertain. She turns to Motojirou, a wry smile on her face, feeling at the same time like the silent director and main instrument of an orchestra. His lab coat hangs from his shoulders, completely damp with rain and in no way useful anymore. His hair is also soaked, and it makes him look like he just jumped out of a swimming pool. Yosano would lie if she declared not to find it even the slightest bit amusing. Lies do not suit a woman like her.

“Don’t tell me you walked all the way here”, she scoffs. “Please.”

“Isn’t it obvious? The trains are out of service.” Motojirou scratches a spot behind his ear where his hair - in a dry condition, see - never quite lies like he wants it to. It’s not exactly a secret, but not even something a very observant passerby would catch, which is why Yosano prides herself in her ability to archive this unnecessary information in the tidy folder of her mind which reads Motojirou. The transition from unflattering labels, associated with his peculiar occupation, happened slowly, probably in spring.

The exact occasion, she doesn’t remember. And she isn’t interested in doing so, as long as Motojirou looks at her with raw admiration setting his gaze ablaze, only when she’s near,and the pride of a moth that fights and struggles not to get alienated by the devouring flame of embarrassment. Slightly speckled with fear, of getting overshadowed, or abandoned.

She wants to reach out and plant a kiss on the cold planes of his cheeks, smooth like a water-streaked glass and lightened by a healthy complexion. But she’s not sure of what would happen.

Tomorrow, I will tell him tomorrow.

[May, current year]

It’s a wednesday. Yosano strolls into the Agency with her habitual pace, the bottom of her heels hitting the floor with a quick, light-hearted cadency. She looks like she just won the lottery, is the thought crossing her coworkes’ mind. Well, maybe not quite as excited; if anything, she looks like she found a penny on the sidewalk on her way here, or like a kid looked over her shoulder as she passed each other and whispered the word “pretty”.

If only Yosano could always be so… radiant.

“I’m tired”, Ranpo complains, chewing listlessly on a potato chip. “The President sent me on a job so early. It’s the third time this month.”

Yosano places her briefcase on her working desk. “The third one already.” She wonders, quite distractedly. She’s in a good mood, and effortlessly slips into her routine, compiling the first stack of papers with ease. She notices Kyouka reading a book out of the corner of her eye. “New shoes, Kyouka?”

The little girl looks up with a strange dullness in her gaze. She seems to be pondering the answer; but finally, her mouth takes the shape of a thin, pale line. “Yes.”

The doctor observes her face for a moment, then smiles. “They suit you.”

Kyouka’s face relaxes only a little.

[May, current year]

Yosano has to wait a few seconds for a reply. The line buzzes, hesitant, and the office is quiet since everyone went home already, almost making her self-aware of the sound of her breathing and the cat-shaped clock’s ticking. Soon they’re in synchrony, and she doesn’t even do it on purpose.

“I… I can’t come to the bridge tonight.”

She knits her brows, staring with puzzlement at the road below, from a window on the top floor of the Agency’s building. “Well, it was nice of you to tell me beforehand.”

“Something cape up at work”, Motojirou sounds exasperated, and a little desperate if Yosano can read between the lines. She doesn’t want to think badly of him. “It’s okay.”

“No. Really. I would come if I could make arrangements.”.

“I said, it’s fine. My work makes me busy too. It could have happened to both of us.”

He huffs into the phone, and Yosano leans away from it slightly. She doubts it’s his own phone; he probably forgot his in some public place and asked to call her from a colleague’s. He doesn’t seem to understand the concept of amplified sound , and this says a lot about how he sees the world and takes other people into consideration. In a way, he only ever sees himself reflected in the mirror. In another, his vision is what Yosano would describe as disarmingly realistic. If, months ago, she could imagine that they could get entwined in such a close friendship after meeting in bellicose circumstances, she wouldn’t have known how to trust a person like him. Now, she thinks she understands a little better, and yet still eyes the last step with a apprehensive sense of wonder. “I’m sorry, Akiko.”

She makes to answer, but the words remain stuck in her throat.

I’ll tell him tomorrow.

[May, current year]

When Yosano opens her eyes, she instantly feels that something’s off. Her home is warm. The heater must be on. Or maybe, she thinks after some debate, maybe it’s just her body temperature. She has slept wrapped in a heap of blankets, after all. She isn’t sure what it means; spring in about to end, and she doesn’t feel sick at all. Her face is fresh like a rose.

A glass of water stands on the bedside table. Next to it, a leather bound notebook.

She gets out of bed instinctively, taking in a careful breath as she surveys her surroundings. She didn’t turn on the heater the night before, and the nightgown she’s wearing is the one she only takes out of the wardrobe in winter.

The thing is, summer hasn’t even started yet.

The whole circumstance is very confusing, before she looks out of the window, and she feels utterly lost.

It’s snow.

The notebook on the table is a journal. She thumbs through the pages, which don’t make any sense to her. The last page reads just a few sentences, but they’re overall less incomprehensible than the whole book; and Yosano knows that she wrote them herself.

Don’t panic. It’s okay.

Call Kajii. If he doesn’t answer, call The President.

She only notices that her hands are shaking like before her first surgery when she grabs the phone, conveniently placed next to the glass of water.

He picks up after the first ring. “Yes?”

“What does this mean?” She asks, her voice too calm and tight to be natural. “I found a journal. It’s… It’s snowing, Motojirou. What’s going on?”

“I… Huh… I’ll be there in a moment.”

“Tell me–” The line goes still before Yosano can finish, and she closes her eyes.

Motojirou looks like he told this story too many times.

“All right. It was on a subway train. The accident, that is. Believe me when I say I know what it’s like, but what I regret the most is… not being there with you. You were on that subway train. Now, it’s only a matter of seconds if you didn’t die, and hell, you were close…”

“Motojirou.”

“… But no, you only hit your head in the wrong place. And at the hospital, some guys were saying that you could experience various degrees of memory loss… When you woke up, you remembered everything that happened until May 28. But of the day of the accident, nothing. And the day after, still nothing. It’s like your mind is unable to create new memories since May 29.” He draws in a breath, as if to steady himself. “There is more. We got together, that day. You… You never remember that.”

A silence falls between them. Yosano’s fingers slowly massage her temples, the milky morning rays fall on her face like moondust.

That night, Motojirou helps her rebuild the events that occurred in the past months. The times he has had to tell her the whole story all over again are periodic; he stopped keeping count. To avoid making her relive the trauma, they just wait for the days she finds out on her own. She’s still keeping her job as a doctor, helping people under the considerate and understanding wing of the Agency. She wonders if she’s still herself after all, but frankly, giving herself simple, concise answers has always been a remarkable personality trait, which are hard to get rid of. Yosano writes a few more things on the journal. Some pages read, I’ll tell him tomorrow, I’ll tell him that I want us to be more, and they’re the saddest ones. So she writesbabout what she’s thinking, but not necessarily what she’s feeling. She won’t need the journal for that.

They go out in the streets, huddled close together under the blanket Motojirou’s brought. The only detail Yosano can focus on in the strange, cold air loaded with expectation, is his nonchalant touch. It keeps her warm. After a while, the fireworks start, and as the explosions ignite the sky over their heads, over the buildings, over the skyscrapers, Yosano feels Motojirou’s restrained gaze on her. It all clicks in that exact moment.

And perhaps there’s no tomorrow, not for her. The present means Motojirou’s fingers grazing her shoulder, and all the sadness not quite hidden there, the space between them burning out, and the smile he flashes at her when Yosano meets his eyes. If that’s so, and this is the only day she’s going to live for the rest of forever, there’s no beat of hesitance when she leans into him and presses her lips on his.

It feels a little like keeping a promise, a little like making a new one.

[May, current year]

She walks into the Agency with her briefcase in one hand and her car keys in the other, the usual greetings welcome her. Ranpo complaining about some absurdly early job, Atsushi mitigating a quarrel between his seniors, Kyouka calmly studying a map of the city.

“New shoes, Kyouka?”

The girl blinks a few times, looks up. Her dark orbs observe Yosano’s smiling face, almost unresponsive. “Yes”, says Kyouka. “Thanks for noticing, Yosano-san.”

If only Yosano could always be so radiant.

[May, current year]

Evening is fast approaching, its ominous pointed shadows reaching for the riverside right next to a lively street. The red, bleeding sun rays seeps into the river, turning the water a bright color that complements the sky, and the woman who’s waiting under a broad bridge is amused by the color scheme, which perhaps also suits her a little. The trees are in bloom. It is not unusual for this time of the year, but she’s taken aback by the sheer quantity of flowers. They’re tinged a faint sunset-red.

“Yosano?” Motojirou sounds different from usual, more confident, except that’s not the word she’s looking for. He sounds like she knows her better, and he only said her name.

“Don’t tell me you walked all the way here”, she lets out a winded chuckle, staring at him, as a shard of sunlight is still gleaming in her playful irises. “Please.”

“No, I took the subway”, Motojirou corrects her. “Do you even know how far from here my Headquarters are?”

“Vaguely.”

It’s a wednesday evening, the streetlights form ponds of light at their feet and Motojirou looks at her smiling. A pleasant electricity makes Yosano’s spine shiver.

Tomorrow. I will tell him, tomorrow.