#the real reason Dazai's bandages get all bloody any time something touches his head when he's in the Port Mafia | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

patchwork-panda · 4 years ago

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If A Moment is All We Are (19/?)

AO3 link: HERE

My eyes widened.

“What the—?”

“Kusunoki—!!”

Dazai grabbed me and threw his arm and part of his trench coat over my head, forcing me to duck as another explosion rocked the streets. I heard a sound like shattering glass; screams erupted all around us and people on the street began to run. Startled, I threw Dazai’s arm off and looked back up to see that another row of tinted windows, this time much closer to the bottom floor, had been broken in the second explosion. Shards of grayish glass were raining down all around us, crashing onto the sidewalk, showering people in broken glass—

People were getting hurt...

“Are you okay?” Dazai demanded, searching me for any signs of injury, his brown eyes darting about.

“Yeah, but—!”

We ducked and covered our heads again as another round of explosions went off. Somebody running past me tripped and fell and without thinking, I pushed Dazai away and ran to her. As I helped her to her feet, I could feel the pull of my Ability, but it was weak, so weak that the woman’s grip on my arm was stronger than the tug of my Ability. During the serial kidnapping case, I noticed that it was getting easier to keep my Ability from activating on its own. Maybe if I kept trying to turn it on and off while out on jobs, I could practice getting it under control... and I could keep civilians from getting hurt along the way.

As soon as the girl was on her feet again, I took one look at the damaged building, at the stream of people running out of the lobby and bolted towards them.

“Kusunoki!!”

I could hear Dazai shouting for me but I kept going, shielding my head with my bag as I ran.

“Where are you going?!”

“To help!” I yelled back.

Just ahead of me, lying on the ground, was a skinny man with a briefcase; he looked like he was searching for something, like the pair of cracked glasses lying almost a full meter away from him. I scooped up the glasses as I ran and handed them to him as I stopped at his side, pulling him to his feet and ignoring the glass that kept falling from the sky, even as a piece sliced down across the back of my hand. As he got up, he stumbled slightly, gripping my hands a little longer and a little more tightly as he regained his balance.

Once again, I felt the pull as “The Story of Your Life” tried to activate and once again, I pushed my Ability down, even as the prolonged physical contact threatened to pull me into a vision. Luckily, the man let go just as I started feeling the strain and I went to the next person I saw. This continued for some time, on and on—grabbing people, pulling them out of harm’s way, ducking around falling glass and debris—until I started wondering if my physical stamina was depleting faster than my mental stamina.

And then I felt someone tugging at my jacket. It was a little girl and she was crying so hard I couldn’t understand a word she said; but as I went along with her to the side of the road, I saw a woman who could only be her mother leaning against a nearby tree. There was a large shard of glass sticking out of the woman’s bloodied leg and it looked like she was having trouble standing.

Checking my surroundings to make sure that no more bombs were going off and no more glass was coming down on us, I grabbed one of the woman’s arms and heaved it over my shoulder, shifting my bag to the side so that she could lean on me. I was about to start walking towards the nearest open doorway when I felt the little girl grab onto my free hand.

Throb.

I faltered and the woman slipped a little off my shoulder. When she looked at me in concern, I merely smiled and hoped my expression didn’t look too strained.

“I’m fine,” I lied, ignoring the dull ache inside my skull. “Let’s keep going.”

Both the woman and the little girl nodded and as the girl’s grip around my fingers tightened, the throbbing sensation worsened until it felt like someone was physically squeezing my eyes; it really hurt. Gritting my teeth, I kept walking, trying my best to ignore the pain until we finally reached an open storefront. Thankfully, someone immediately came forward with a first-aid kit in hand to receive the woman. As the weight over my shoulders lifted and the little girl released my hand at last, I stepped away, thinking the pressure in my head would dissipate.

But it didn’t.

And there were still several people lying on the streets, with no clear sign emergency services would be here any time soon. I rubbed my eyes and steeled myself for the next rescue.

Members of the Armed Detective Agency protected the people of Yokohama. I was a member now. I had to help...

I took a single, small step, swayed a little, and pitched forward.

I must’ve been under more strain than I realized. My entire body suddenly felt like lead and I couldn’t even lift my arms to stop my fall. Suppressing my Ability over and over again like that had drained me but the adrenaline had kept me from noticing how weak I really was until the little girl grabbed my hand. It seemed suppressing my Ability while I was in physical contact with two people at once had finally done me in.

And now my mistake was going to land me in the infirmary again.

Some Agency Member I turned out to be...

I watched helplessly as the street—a solid gray block of asphalt dusted in glittering glass shards—rushed up to meet me.

But before I could hit the ground, someone abruptly seized me by the arms and stopped my descent.

Head spinning, I turned to see Dazai at my side, his shaggy brown hair mussed and his face streaked with dust.

“And they call me a suicide maniac,” he said, his amber eyes glittering as he set me back on my feet. “You ever wonder if you have a hero complex, Kusunoki-kun?”

“Dazai-san...?” I mumbled hazily as his face swam before me. “Where did you come from...?”

Dazai smiled.

“I sensed a beautiful lady in trouble, so naturally, I came running,” he whispered, bringing one half-bandaged hand up towards my face.

“Hold still for me...”

He gently placed his hand on my cheek and the instant his skin met mine, the dizziness stopped. A wave of physical relief washed over me and as the pain slowly faded away, I closed my eyes, relaxing into his touch.

“Ah...”

Dazai’s hand was so big and so warm... There was something pleasant, almost intoxicating, about the instant relief that came with his touch and I could feel my entire body warming from the heat of Dazai’s lightly callused palm against my skin. I breathed in the scent of coffee and dust and aftershave and as he lightly brushed his thumb across my cheek, I slowly brought my hand up towards his.

This feels so nice...

But just as my fingers brushed against his hand, Dazai abruptly pulled away. Startled, I opened my eyes to see the bandaged detective standing before me with his hands in his pockets and an unreadable expression in his tawny brown eyes.

“Dazai-san...?”

“Looks like you’re all better!” he chirped, grinning so cheerfully that for a split second, I thought I had imagined the whole thing. “Let’s take you back to the Agency so that you can rest and recover. The Military Police can handle things from here.”

Still smiling, Dazai took my bag off the ground, threw it over his shoulder and turned away, his sand-colored coat billowing in his wake as he departed. As the distance between us slowly grew, I found myself staring at his bandaged forearms and the hands he was now keeping hidden deep within his pockets.

What... What just happened...?

For a moment, I just stood there, motionless and silent, watching him walk further and further away from me with my bag hanging over his shoulder until I abruptly remembered that I was supposed to go with him.

I shook myself and ran to catch up.

But as I reached out to take back my bag, I was struck by a sudden, irrational thought: what would happen if I grabbed Dazai’s arm instead?

Without realizing what I was doing, I let my hand drop towards his coat pocket.

Right then, Dazai glanced over his shoulder. His eyes widened for just a fraction of a second and one eyebrow rose up into his bangs. I drew back my hand at once but it was too late—those shrewd brown eyes had seen everything and as Dazai stopped walking and turned to face me, I saw a very familiar smirk on his face.

“What’s this, Kusunoki-kun?” he asked, bringing his hand up to his mouth, his eyes widening in mock-surprise. “Were you trying to pick my pocket? Did you want another coffee that badly? I can buy you a real one as an apology but you’re going to have to ask very nicely first...”

“What?! No!” I sputtered, clutching my hands to my chest. “That’s not it! I just wanted my bag back—”

“But you were reaching for my pocket just now!” Dazai pointed out, wrapping his bandaged arms around his coat defensively. “I saw you.”

“I wasn’t reaching for your wallet!” I protested. “I wanted—”

“To hold hands?” Dazai teased, bending forwards so that his face was level with mine. I opened my mouth to speak but for some reason, no words came out.

Dazai grinned.

“Just kidding.”

Before I could say a word, he draped my bag over my shoulders and straightened back up.

“But seriously, though Kusunoki-kun,” Dazai said, his amiable expression suddenly changing into something very serious. “You should never try to reach for my wallet, under any circumstance. Okay? Nod if you understand me.”

I nodded.

“W-why? What’s in your wallet?”

“The answer is...” Dazai whispered, beckoning me closer so that I could hear him better. Heart pounding, I leaned in as he cupped my ear with one hand and spoke into it.

“Nothing.”

I blinked, then pulled back and squinted at him.

“I’m sorry. What?”

“Like I said,” Dazai whispered, still using that low, conspiratorial tone, “My wallet is empty. Which brings me to my next point...”

Taking both my hands in his and holding them so that my fingers were very close to his lips, he grinned flirtatiously at me and angled himself so that the light hit his eyes just right.

“Could you lend me some money for the train? I spent all of mine on that joke coffee this morning.”

***

“Kusunoki—?”

The set of binders that were balanced so perfectly in Kunikida’s hands crashed to the floor and I winced, my hand still on the doorknob, as papers scattered everywhere, blanketing the green tiles in layers of white and manila-yellow. I looked up at Kunikida’s shocked expression and tried to put a smile on my face.

“G-good morning, Kunikida-san.”

I had been trying to sneak back into the Agency office unnoticed, knowing that if anyone saw me in my battered state (clothes all dirty, very clearly sweaty and exhausted), I’d be whisked off to the Infirmary to be examined and potentially buzz-sawed in half by Dr. Yosano. After hearing Tanizaki Junichiro tell me about his latest “surgery,” I didn’t particularly feel like being caught and “treated” by the good doctor...

But besides that, I really didn’t want to trouble anyone, and I especially didn’t want Kunikida to see me looking so disheveled. Not only would he worry, he’d probably think I was being gross and unprofessional and I wanted him to think of me as more than just the filthy shut-in the Agency was begrudgingly training. On top of that, I had a strong recollection of Kunikida liking well-groomed women; if I wanted to check that particular box in his list of fifty-eight requirements for a potential girlfriend, I needed to make sure he didn’t see me like this.

I had it all planned out. I was going to go to my locker, grab a change of clothes, and run out to the women’s bathroom to wash up before anyone could see me. Dazai had dashed into the men’s room the first chance he got, meaning there should’ve been nobody around to mess up my plan...

I’d put both hands on the door, slowly turned the knob and carefully stepped into the room—only to see Kunikida standing directly on the other side.

Plan ruined.

Lips twitching into a nervous smile, my fingers still wrapped tightly around the doorknob, I bowed awkwardly and took a tiny step back.

“Please excuse me...” I mumbled quietly, retreating back out into the hallway and pulling the door closed.

But before I got the door completely closed, Kunikida’s hand shot out and wrapped itself around the edge of the door. I looked up to see him towering over me with a thick vein pulsating on his temple and a steely glint in his gray-green eyes.

“Kusunoki-kun...” he said quietly. “What is that glittery dust on your clothes? Is that glass? I thought you and Dazai were just going downtown to meet a client.”

“We were!” I exclaimed, letting go of the doorknob and backing out into the hallway. “And we did! Everything went really well, actually...”

“Then why,” Kunikida pointed out, “Do you have a cut on the back of your hand?”

I froze.

I glanced down. There, stretching across the back of my left hand, was a very wide cut, one that started at the area below my pinkie and ended very close to my index finger. There was a little bit of glass dust still stuck to the wound and as I stared at it, a tiny droplet of blood squeezed out and dripped down my hand.

I must’ve been so full of adrenaline that I hadn’t noticed...

I felt the smile on my face falter.

“It’s a funny story, actually...” I chuckled weakly, tugging my jacket sleeve over my hand.

Kunikida raised an eyebrow.

“Is that so?”

Without warning, he seized my wrist.

“K-Kunikida-san?!” I yelped, instantly flushing as he stepped out into the hallway with me and dragged me towards the infirmary.

I couldn’t tug myself free; he’d grabbed me over the jacket sleeve and he had a very tight grip.

“What are you doing—?!”

“My schedule is rather light this morning,” Kunikida said, seemingly oblivious to the redness of my face or the flustered panic in my voice. “And I happen to have a few minutes to spare. You seem to be injured but Yosano-sensei is out right now, so why don’t I show you where the first aid kit is?”

Turning slightly, he shot a stern look over his shoulder at me and I actually flinched.

“In the meantime, I’d like to hear that funny story of yours.”

***

“I see.”

Kunikida sighed.

There was an audible click as he closed the medicine cabinet door and turned to face me, first aid kit in hand. Turns out, there were actually three first-aid kits located throughout the Armed Detective Agency offices but two of the three were hidden from everyone except Yosano so that Dazai couldn’t steal the bandages inside. The one that Kunikida was holding—the one that wasn’t hidden—was located just inside the first medicine cabinet nearest the door in the infirmary.

Kunikida pulled up a couple of chairs and gestured at the one closer to me.

“Sit.”

I sat.

If the Agency ever suspected me of turning traitor and had to choose someone to interrogate me, they’d have to look no further than Kunikida Doppo. Overly flustered and half-overheated from blushing so hard, I’d ended up spilling everything before Kunikida could even close the infirmary door. It wasn’t that he was particularly good at questioning people (he was actually rather polite, if not authoritatively stern the way any school teacher might be). It was more a matter of my guilt.

I didn’t want to keep any more secrets from him. The fact that I knew about his “Spousal Plan Project” and had nearly memorized a third of the fifty-eight requirements Kunikida had for his future wife was weighing on me, among other things... It felt too much like lying, even if I did have the best of intentions... I did, however, decide not to tell him about Dazai pranking me this morning. If there was one thing Kunikida definitely didn’t need to know, it was the fact that I might actually be a gullible idiot...

I watched Kunikida settle down in the chair opposite me and open the first-aid kit on his lap. He put on a pair of blue nitrile gloves.

“Hold out your hand.”

I blinked.

“Sure?”

As requested, I held out my injured hand, palm side down so that the cut on the back of my hand was more visible. It was definitely clotting and it honestly didn’t look that bad to me but the instant he saw it up close, Kunikida frowned. He turned the lamp on the counter on and brought it forward, adjusting it so that the brightest part of the light fell directly on my hand.

“Looks pretty clean,” he said. “Just a moment.”

He set the first aid kit down next to the lamp and went to open a drawer in the desk. I heard the subtle clinking of instruments and glass and watched quietly as Kunikida pulled out a couple balls of cotton, a thin pair of metal tweezers and a small clear bottle from a nearby drawer. He unscrewed the cap and as he poured some of the colorless liquid onto the cotton ball, the sharp, unmistakable smell of alcohol filled the room.

“I apologize,” Kunikida mumbled. “I’m not as good at this as Yosano-sensei is, but I promise to do my best. It’s lucky your cut doesn’t seem too deep.”

He picked up the alcohol-soaked cotton ball with the tweezers and turned back towards me. His gaze focused solely on my cut, Kunikida took my hand, gripping my fingers tightly in his and pulled me a little bit closer.

I felt my breath still in my lungs.

“This might sting a little,” Kunikida cautioned, picking up the cotton ball with a pair of tweezers and holding it up to my cut.

I thought I felt him squeeze my hand.

“Hold still, please...”

I was so distracted by the fact that Kunikida—handsome, tall, broad-shouldered Kunikida—the man I admired more than any of the other detectives in the Agency—was holding my hand so tightly (if only he didn’t have to wear gloves!) that I almost didn’t feel the burn of the alcohol against my open wound.

Almost.

I let out a sharp hiss of pain as the sting of the alcohol finally registered and it was all I could do not to squirm as Kunikida carefully dabbed at my cut. The metal tweezers in his hand flashed brightly in the lamplight as he painstakingly wiped away every trace of dirt and debris with soft, gentle strokes.

“You’re a very caring person, aren’t you, Kusunoki-kun?”

I flushed.

No, you’re the caring one! I wanted to say but the only thing that came out of my mouth was a barely audible squeak.

“Huh?”

“There was an explosion. Part of a building went up in smoke behind you,” Kunikida continued, still dabbing at my cut, “And the first thing you did when you realized the people around you were in danger was to run back so you could help. That was very admirable of you.”

Kunikida was praising me...?

I didn’t know my face could burn any hotter but it did.

“N-not at all,” I mumbled, looking away. “I was just trying to help.”

I really hoped my palm wasn’t too sweaty.

“I’m sure you did,” Kunikida said, “but I’d like to remind you that it is not our job to do those sorts of things. Those matters are best left to the Military Police and citywide emergency services. We may assist the city and government when requested to but ultimately, we’re just a detective agency composed of ordinary citizens. Many of us may be Gifted, but that’s all the more reason to exercise responsibility when it comes to the usage of our powers, especially in a crisis. I’m sure you’ve heard some incredible rumors about us and I will admit, half of those are likely true, but...”

He set down the tweezers.

“We aren’t heroes. Not by a long shot.”

Kunikida’s deep voice suddenly sounded strained. His grip tightened around my fingers, so much so that it almost hurt and I looked up to see Kunikida staring at something beyond the floorboards, with something resembling pain reflected in the muted hues of his gray-green eyes.

“Kunikida-san...?”

“Ranpo-san told me everything,” he said quietly. “I know what happened when you used your Ability on him.”

I sucked in a breath.

“He... he told me he asked you to do something specific... and then your eyes started bleeding.”

Kunikida looked up at me then and I felt something constrict around my heart the instant his eyes met mine.

“Kusunoki-kun... Why didn’t you tell me...?”

I couldn’t stand it—I couldn’t stand seeing him like this.

“I’m really sorry!” I whispered, bending so far forward over my arm that my bangs fell over my face. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I just didn’t want to add to your worries. You’ve got enough on your plate as it is and I’m sure work stresses you out as well...”

“Kusunoki-kun...”

Kunikida sighed.

“I thank you for your concern, but do you want to know why I was worried?”

He looked away from me and started rummaging around in the first aid kit.

“It’s because you’re too reckless. Remember when you were working the serial killer case with me and you ran off on your own to go find the murderer? Or back at the art gallery, when you came back to help me and ended up flying out the window and breaking your neck?”

I nodded timidly.

“I’ve noticed,” Kunikida admitted, “that you have a tendency to put the interests of others before your own. A noble sentiment in some contexts, but in others, this line of thinking can be rather... self-destructive. I know your heart is in the right place but I would rest easier if I knew you were taking proper care of yourself.”

His eyes flicked quickly from my cut to the bandages in his hand and he put a few of them back in the box.

“It’s good that you have better control of your Ability now but I’d still like you to remain cautious until you’ve fully mastered it, so that you don’t overdo it again. This time it was just a scratch but what about next time? What if you injure yourself while no one is around?”

He looked at me pointedly and paused for a moment to let his words sink in.

I sighed.

“I... I’m sorry...”

“I’ll admit you’re tough, Kusunoki-kun. Tougher than you look. But you’re also smart. You’re the kind of person who should be able to avoid becoming injured unnecessarily.”

I heard a soft ripping sound and watched as Kunikida placed a large, thin band-aid over my freshly cleaned cut. He smoothed out the fabric with a soft brush of his thumb and leaned forward. I thought I felt him lightly squeezing my hand.

“I want you to promise me you’re going to take better care of yourself in the future,” he said, looking directly into my eyes. ��Can you do that?”

Why was it so hard to breathe when he looks directly at me like this?

Kunikida’s sage-green irises flashed sternly behind the thin, rectangular frames of his glasses and the corner of his lips slowly curved down.

“Well?”

“Kunikida-san...”

I could hear my pulse beating rapidly in my ears, warmth flooding into my face and neck. Unable to look away from Kunikida’s handsome face, I finally nodded.

“Good.”

He let go of my hand at last and went to put away the first-aid kit. I could feel the disappointment welling up in the back of my mind as my hand grew slightly colder without his touch when Kunikida spoke again.

“Because I didn’t take on Akutagawa back at the art gallery only for you to go and hurt yourself again. Having one suicidal detective in our ranks is bad enough,” he muttered, looking irritated as his thoughts visibly drifted towards Dazai, “but if our newcomer needs to be looked after as well...”

“I won’t cause any more trouble for you in the future, Kunikida-san,” I said, standing and bowing again. “And I’ll do my best to become an upstanding member of the Agency. I promise.”

Closing the medicine cabinet door once more and discarding his blue nitrile gloves, Kunikida turned to me and smiled. I was so startled by the subtle softness of his expression that I almost didn’t hear his next words.

“You’re doing better than you think.”

I brought my fingers to my lips.

“Kunikida-san...”

Suddenly, the door flew open with an ear-splitting BANG and a terrified Atsushi burst into the room.

“KUNIKIDA-SAN-IT’S-AN-EMERGENCY!!” he shrieked, without taking a single breath. He paused to catch his breath and took a quick look around the room.

He blinked.

“Eh?”

As Atsushi looked from Kunikida, whose smile was now frozen on his face, to me, with my hands over my mouth and my face and ears burning a bright, embarrassed pink, his duochrome gold-and-purple eyes grew to the size of dinner plates.

“Oh my God, I’m so sorry!” he gasped, instantly flushing red, “I didn’t mean to interrupt—!”

“And just what do you think you’re interrupting?!” Kunikida sputtered, flushing as well and causing me to blush even harder, “I just came in here to have a talk with Kusunoki—N-never mind! What’s the emergency?”

“Right!”

Atsushi stiffened and pointed almost robotically out the door in the direction of the main office.

“Somebody left a bunch of papers scattered all over the lobby floor. Dazai-san started picking them up and I thought he was going to put them away somewhere, but then he stuffed them all in the trash can and lit the trash can on fire—”

As if on cue, the smoke detector abruptly went off and Kunikida swore, loudly, and barreled out the door, screaming Dazai’s name as he ran. Atsushi and I exchanged a nervous glance and hurried after him. We arrived just in time to see Kunikida slamming Dazai to the ground in a classic judo move as Tanizaki Junichiro hurriedly doused the burning trash can in foam from the fire extinguisher.

No sooner was the fire out than Naomi tackled her brother so that there were now four people on the floor.

“Ahhh, Brother!”

I immediately averted my eyes as she started nuzzling him right there in the middle of the room.

“You’re so heroic~ Naomi wants to see this side of you even more now—”

“N-Naomi! Not here!”

“I... I think I’ll go get changed now,” I mumbled as Kunikida’s reprimands echoed throughout the room, intermingling with Dazai’s strangled yells and the Tanizaki siblings’ horrifying dialogue.

“D-Do you and Kyouka-chan want to head to the cafe for lunch after? I could really use some coffee...”

Atsushi nodded awkwardly and we parted ways, leaving the chaos of the Armed Detective Agency behind... for now.

#bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #dazai x oc #kunikida x oc #dazai osamu #dazai #dazai x reader #kunikida #kunikida doppo

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