💞Shut Up & Kiss Me💞
part i
grad student!Chuuya & author!Dazai au
part i
grad student!Chuuya & author!Dazai au
thread of content warnings for part i of su&km! it will be updated as we go!
https://twitter.com/quirkzone/status/1373494222267969539?s=20
Dazai leans against a pole outside the Yokohama National University library. He yawns, pulling out his phone to check the time and sighs. Atsushi’s taking longer than he said he would, so he opens Twitter.
He scrolls past the promotional tweets from his official account as
He scrolls past the promotional tweets from his official account as
quickly as possible. He doesn’t want to think about writing. He’s /blocked/ and being reminded about it by Fyodor once a week is as much as he can handle.
Speaking of Fyodor, he snorts at the new profile picture before liking and retweeting.
Speaking of Fyodor, he snorts at the new profile picture before liking and retweeting.
(art a collab with @FyodorSlut !)
Atsushi’s voice pulls his attention away and he looks up. He has a greeting ready on his tongue and then promptly chokes on it when he sees who Atsushi is talking to.
He’s /striking/ to say the least. And somehow a little /familiar/. But Dazai can’t place it. Well, not /yet/.
He’s /striking/ to say the least. And somehow a little /familiar/. But Dazai can’t place it. Well, not /yet/.
Red hair, bright blue eyes hidden behind adorable glasses. He’s got freckles and /piercings/.
And then Dazai looks /down/. Really, the piercings should have been a hint but the black jeans, heavy boots and /mesh/ catch him off guard.
He’s gorgeous and he’s /punk/ and
And then Dazai looks /down/. Really, the piercings should have been a hint but the black jeans, heavy boots and /mesh/ catch him off guard.
He’s gorgeous and he’s /punk/ and
Dazai is having a small crisis.
“Thank you again for staying after your office hours, Nakahara-senpai,” Atsushi says, holding a book close to his chest. “I really appreciate it.”
Nakahara waves a hand flippantly, shaking his head.
“It’s fine, Atsushi. And I told you that
“Thank you again for staying after your office hours, Nakahara-senpai,” Atsushi says, holding a book close to his chest. “I really appreciate it.”
Nakahara waves a hand flippantly, shaking his head.
“It’s fine, Atsushi. And I told you that
you can just call me Chuuya.”
/Chuuya/. Even his name is cute. His voice, too. The universe is so unfair.
Atsushi shakes his head, holding his book up to shield his face.
“I really don’t think I can.”
It’s then that Dazai notices what book Atsushi is holding.
/Chuuya/. Even his name is cute. His voice, too. The universe is so unfair.
Atsushi shakes his head, holding his book up to shield his face.
“I really don’t think I can.”
It’s then that Dazai notices what book Atsushi is holding.
It’s /Dazai’s/ book.
/No Longer Human/ stares back at him from Atsushi’s arms and he blinks, trying to process what he’s actually seeing.
Upon further inspection, Dazai is shocked to see that it isn’t even the copy he /gave him/. He frowns.
Chuuya has a copy sticking out of
/No Longer Human/ stares back at him from Atsushi’s arms and he blinks, trying to process what he’s actually seeing.
Upon further inspection, Dazai is shocked to see that it isn’t even the copy he /gave him/. He frowns.
Chuuya has a copy sticking out of
his bag, too. It’s /filled/ with little, colorful tabs. For some reason, that makes Dazai’s heart skip.
Chuuya sighs, like that was the answer he was expecting and shrugs again.
“Well, either way. I know the section on Tsushima Shuuji can be a little intense, so I’m fine
Chuuya sighs, like that was the answer he was expecting and shrugs again.
“Well, either way. I know the section on Tsushima Shuuji can be a little intense, so I’m fine
staying late to make sure you get it all down.”
A /section/? On Tsushima Shuuji? Why didn’t Atsushi mention /that/?
Atsushi seems ready to thank Chuuya again when he spots Dazai and beams at him, waving.
“Osamu-nii, hey! Sorry to keep you waiting!”
A /section/? On Tsushima Shuuji? Why didn’t Atsushi mention /that/?
Atsushi seems ready to thank Chuuya again when he spots Dazai and beams at him, waving.
“Osamu-nii, hey! Sorry to keep you waiting!”
Dazai waves back, still tongue-tied when those piercing blue eyes meet brown and he suppresses a shiver.
He clears his throat and forces himself to look at Atsushi. Safe, oblivious Atsushi. “This is my TA for my Modern Lit class,” he says, gesturing to Chuuya who
He clears his throat and forces himself to look at Atsushi. Safe, oblivious Atsushi. “This is my TA for my Modern Lit class,” he says, gesturing to Chuuya who
looks Dazai up and down critically. Finally, he reaches a hand out.
“Nakahara Chuuya, but you can just call me Chuuya.”
Dazai takes his hand--it’s small but his grip is /strong/.
“Dazai Osamu,” he says, still a little breathless. “Call me whatever you like.”
“Nakahara Chuuya, but you can just call me Chuuya.”
Dazai takes his hand--it’s small but his grip is /strong/.
“Dazai Osamu,” he says, still a little breathless. “Call me whatever you like.”
Atsushi looks at him like he’s grown a third arm as Chuuya raises a perfectly sculpted eyebrow--and /really/ who even /has/ eyebrows that perfect?
Chuuya pulls his hand back, shoving it in his pocket.
“You two are brothers?” he asks casually.
Chuuya pulls his hand back, shoving it in his pocket.
“You two are brothers?” he asks casually.
Dazai smirks, leaning in and pulling Atsushi close.
“You don’t see the family resemblance?” he asks. Atsushi rolls his eyes, shoving Dazai away.
“Step brothers,” he clarifies. Chuuya nods. “Nakahara-senpai was helping me with an essay.”
“I heard,” Dazai says, tone thoughtful.
“You don’t see the family resemblance?” he asks. Atsushi rolls his eyes, shoving Dazai away.
“Step brothers,” he clarifies. Chuuya nods. “Nakahara-senpai was helping me with an essay.”
“I heard,” Dazai says, tone thoughtful.
“On No Longer Human, I see. And what an /interesting/ choice, too!”
Atsushi looks at him with the annoyance only the younger brother of an eccentric author can possess. “Maybe not /my/ first pick, but /bold/, definitely.”
Chuuya’s eye seems to twitch a bit as he shifts and
Atsushi looks at him with the annoyance only the younger brother of an eccentric author can possess. “Maybe not /my/ first pick, but /bold/, definitely.”
Chuuya’s eye seems to twitch a bit as he shifts and
crosses his arms over his chest. And /that/ draws Dazai’s attention to his painted nails, which manage to look both extremely attractive and a little intimidating.
Dazai’s eyes travel up and get caught on his shoulders, visible through the fishnet shirt he wears beneath a red
Dazai’s eyes travel up and get caught on his shoulders, visible through the fishnet shirt he wears beneath a red
plaid shirt, hugging his upper arms. He thinks he sees something a little /odd/ there when Chuuya’s voice startles him into meeting his eyes again.
“You have a problem with my assigned readings?”
Dazai waves his hands in front of him. Who let this man be cute while he’s
“You have a problem with my assigned readings?”
Dazai waves his hands in front of him. Who let this man be cute while he’s
annoyed /too/? How can that possibly be allowed?
“No, of course not!” he says, hoping that keeping his eyes closed for dramatics will help him keep his composure. “I just don’t know that he’s really /contributed/ to modern Japanese literature, is all.”
“Have you even /read/
“No, of course not!” he says, hoping that keeping his eyes closed for dramatics will help him keep his composure. “I just don’t know that he’s really /contributed/ to modern Japanese literature, is all.”
“Have you even /read/
his novels?” Chuuya asks. He’s getting /defensive/ and it makes Dazai’s chest heat up. Just a little bit. And then he gets a terrible idea. “His social commentary alone in the fifteen years he’s been active has influenced the way people look at the world.”
Dazai taps his bottom lip with a pout.
“You /really/ think so?”
“It’s not an /opinion/, asshole, it’s true.”
“/Anyway/,” Atsushi says, stepping between them with a forced grin. “Nii-san and I should really let you get--!”
“Actually,” Dazai says, slipping on a sweet smile
“You /really/ think so?”
“It’s not an /opinion/, asshole, it’s true.”
“/Anyway/,” Atsushi says, stepping between them with a forced grin. “Nii-san and I should really let you get--!”
“Actually,” Dazai says, slipping on a sweet smile
and letting his eyes give Chuuya a once-over while he gently nudges Atsushi to the side.
Atsushi’s eyes widen in response, but Dazai ignores him. The /look/ Chuuya gives him says that he notices his gaze, too. “I’d love to continue this conversation with you. I’m starting the
Atsushi’s eyes widen in response, but Dazai ignores him. The /look/ Chuuya gives him says that he notices his gaze, too. “I’d love to continue this conversation with you. I’m starting the
PhD program in Japanese Language and Literature next semester.”
“What?” Atsushi hisses but Dazai continues to ignore him. He leans /casually/ on the paystation. Chuuya doesn’t seem /opposed/ to the attention so Dazai continues.
“What are you studying?”
“What?” Atsushi hisses but Dazai continues to ignore him. He leans /casually/ on the paystation. Chuuya doesn’t seem /opposed/ to the attention so Dazai continues.
“What are you studying?”
“Modern Literature,” he says smoothly. “My focus is on French and Japanese.”
Atsushi looks like he might explode, so Dazai finally nods with a little wave.
“Well, I’ll see you around the department,” he says, doing his best to sound /suave/ and /cool/. “Until then, Chuuya.”
Atsushi looks like he might explode, so Dazai finally nods with a little wave.
“Well, I’ll see you around the department,” he says, doing his best to sound /suave/ and /cool/. “Until then, Chuuya.”
“Yeah. Sure.”
Chuuya walks away, and once he’s out of sight, Atsushi rounds on Dazai.
“What was /that/?” he asks.
“What was what?”
“The PhD program? You already /have/ a degree. And a Nobel Prize!”
“And a Pulitzer Prize,” Dazai adds helpfully.
Chuuya walks away, and once he’s out of sight, Atsushi rounds on Dazai.
“What was /that/?” he asks.
“What was what?”
“The PhD program? You already /have/ a degree. And a Nobel Prize!”
“And a Pulitzer Prize,” Dazai adds helpfully.
Atsushi waves a hand in exasperation.
“I was getting to that!” Atsushi says, rubbing his hand down his face. “Why would you need a PhD from /here/?”
“To further my /education/, Atsushi. I thought you of all people would understand,” Dazai says with a pout as he nods toward
“I was getting to that!” Atsushi says, rubbing his hand down his face. “Why would you need a PhD from /here/?”
“To further my /education/, Atsushi. I thought you of all people would understand,” Dazai says with a pout as he nods toward
the car just down the little side street. Atsushi rolls his eyes, but follows him.
“There’s a whole section on you in my class. I really don’t think you need to further /anything/.”
“Honestly, Atsushi, I’m offended that you didn’t ask /me/ for help!”
Atsushi slips into the
“There’s a whole section on you in my class. I really don’t think you need to further /anything/.”
“Honestly, Atsushi, I’m offended that you didn’t ask /me/ for help!”
Atsushi slips into the
car easily as he shakes his head, deflating slightly.
“What you intended to write and what people interpret from it aren’t always the same,” he says. “And I need to do well in this class.”
Dazai frowns as he gets behind the wheel, feeling petulant if only so he /doesn’t/
“What you intended to write and what people interpret from it aren’t always the same,” he says. “And I need to do well in this class.”
Dazai frowns as he gets behind the wheel, feeling petulant if only so he /doesn’t/
think about Chuuya. Because he’s /never/ felt like that before and he doesn’t have the emotional energy to try to unpack it, either.
“You could have at least /told/ me,” he says. “You’re not even using the copy I gave you.”
Atsushi looks down at the book still held in his arms
“You could have at least /told/ me,” he says. “You’re not even using the copy I gave you.”
Atsushi looks down at the book still held in his arms
like he’d forgotten it was there. He laughs.
“I wasn’t gonna mark up a signed hardback, Nii-san.”
Dazai waves his hands around with a flourish and wiggles his fingers.
“I can just sign a new one. For /free/.”
“It’s the /principle/.” Atsushi says with a laugh as he bats
“I wasn’t gonna mark up a signed hardback, Nii-san.”
Dazai waves his hands around with a flourish and wiggles his fingers.
“I can just sign a new one. For /free/.”
“It’s the /principle/.” Atsushi says with a laugh as he bats
Dazai’s hands away. “You’re trying to distract me.”
Dazai’s hand falls to his chest in mock offense. “/Me/?”
“What are you planning? I know you’re not going to university for /fun/.”
Dazai starts the car with a little sigh.
“It’s for research.”
“Research?” Atsushi asks,
Dazai’s hand falls to his chest in mock offense. “/Me/?”
“What are you planning? I know you’re not going to university for /fun/.”
Dazai starts the car with a little sigh.
“It’s for research.”
“Research?” Atsushi asks,
tilting his head. “I thought your book is about the mafia?”
Dazai nods, very seriously.
“It is,” he says. “But the /secondary/ setting is a university.”
Atsushi looks skeptical, but he doesn’t argue any further, which is good.
Dazai nods, very seriously.
“It is,” he says. “But the /secondary/ setting is a university.”
Atsushi looks skeptical, but he doesn’t argue any further, which is good.
Dazai spends the ride to Mori and Fukuzawa’s place figuring out how exactly to convince Ranpo that this plan is, in fact, completely necessary.
He’s sure he /can/, it’s just a matter of how much /truth/ he’ll have to share in return.
__
Chuuya steps into the house with an offhanded greeting as he slips his shoes off. “I’m home! Atsushi needed extra help so I stayed late.”
__
Chuuya steps into the house with an offhanded greeting as he slips his shoes off. “I’m home! Atsushi needed extra help so I stayed late.”
No response. He steps cautiously into the small house. “Shirase?”
Emi hasn’t run to greet him, which is unusual. They don’t usually put her in her kennel unless they’re both gone. The prolonged silence makes his heart sink a little, disappointment a heavy weight in his gut.
Emi hasn’t run to greet him, which is unusual. They don’t usually put her in her kennel unless they’re both gone. The prolonged silence makes his heart sink a little, disappointment a heavy weight in his gut.
He walks toward Emi’s kennel, watching her tail thump excitedly as her ears perk up further. “Hey, girl. I’m home,” he greets as he opens the kennel and she steps out. She sniffs at his face before licking his cheek once in greeting. “Where’s Shirase, hm?”
Emi tilts her head to
Emi tilts her head to
the side and Chuuya sighs. He’d seen Shirase just a few hours ago, when he came home before his office hours to take Emi on a jog. Shirase hadn’t /said/ he planned to leave so /where is he/?
Chuuya opens the door to the spare room where his white ball python lives. He checks the
Chuuya opens the door to the spare room where his white ball python lives. He checks the
lamps and greets Baki with a little smile, though he seems to be sleeping. He leaves the room quietly.
He slumps onto the couch and pulls out his phone. Maybe Shirase is just grabbing food or at least /said something/. Because he said he had the day off, he /should/ be here.
He slumps onto the couch and pulls out his phone. Maybe Shirase is just grabbing food or at least /said something/. Because he said he had the day off, he /should/ be here.
Emi jumps on the couch beside him, laying her head on his thigh. He reaches down to scratch behind her ears as he scrolls through his phone.
There aren’t any new messages. Not since that morning. He sinks down on the couch with a tired sigh. They’ve been /so good/ about
There aren’t any new messages. Not since that morning. He sinks down on the couch with a tired sigh. They’ve been /so good/ about
communication lately so /why now/?
Shirase has always been a little /weird/ but he usually /says something/. At least he did when they first started dating.
Six months ago everything got /bad/ and he would disappear for days on end and play it off like Chuuya was /overreacting/
Shirase has always been a little /weird/ but he usually /says something/. At least he did when they first started dating.
Six months ago everything got /bad/ and he would disappear for days on end and play it off like Chuuya was /overreacting/
when he finally came home. But they /talked/ about it.
Chuuya sends a quick text, hoping to get something--anything--back as he closes his eyes and lets his head fall back against the couch. It’s then that thoughts of Atsushi’s infuriating brother drift through his mind.
Chuuya sends a quick text, hoping to get something--anything--back as he closes his eyes and lets his head fall back against the couch. It’s then that thoughts of Atsushi’s infuriating brother drift through his mind.
Who does he think he is, anyway? Some /authority/ on Japanese literature just because he’s starting the PhD program? Chuuya snorts at the thought. Some people think they know /everything/.
He probably thinks his messy hair and bottomless brown eyes will get him places,
He probably thinks his messy hair and bottomless brown eyes will get him places,
but he’s /wrong/. And the way he was looking at Chuuya was about as unsubtle as a person can get.
Chuuya knows how he looks--he makes a living off of it. But it’s not usually that /blatant/ in public.
And now he’s thinking about Shirase again. About their conversation this
Chuuya knows how he looks--he makes a living off of it. But it’s not usually that /blatant/ in public.
And now he’s thinking about Shirase again. About their conversation this
morning, which wasn’t /quite/ an argument, but it certainly toed the line. Chuuya pulls his phone out and pulls up the picture that caused the whole mess to begin with.
He feels fondness and disappointment warring in his stomach and rolls his eyes. With a huff of frustration,
He feels fondness and disappointment warring in his stomach and rolls his eyes. With a huff of frustration,
he sends it to the groupchat he has with a few other TAs. He just needs to calm down. It’s /fine/. Shirase has a point, even if Chuuya doesn’t like it.
Emi looks up at him like she can read his thoughts and is judging him for them. He looks away.
Shirase’s voice drifts through
Emi looks up at him like she can read his thoughts and is judging him for them. He looks away.
Shirase’s voice drifts through
his subconscious anyway and he closes his eyes for a long moment before opening the chat as his phone buzzes over and over again.
The words linger like a bitter aftertaste.
The words linger like a bitter aftertaste.
|| THAT MORNING ||
Shirase pressed soft kisses up Chuuya’s bare back, smiling against warm skin. Chuuya silently slipped his phone off the nightstand and took a picture just as Shirase looked up.
But then Shirase was /sighing/ and sitting back. Chuuya pouted, turning his head
Shirase pressed soft kisses up Chuuya’s bare back, smiling against warm skin. Chuuya silently slipped his phone off the nightstand and took a picture just as Shirase looked up.
But then Shirase was /sighing/ and sitting back. Chuuya pouted, turning his head
to look over his shoulder at him.
“Seriously?” Shirase asked, sounding more exasperated than he had any right to.
“What? It’s cute!”
“Can’t you keep /one thing/ private?”
Chuuya sat up with an offended glare, throwing his phone on the bed and pulling his hair into a ponytail.
“Seriously?” Shirase asked, sounding more exasperated than he had any right to.
“What? It’s cute!”
“Can’t you keep /one thing/ private?”
Chuuya sat up with an offended glare, throwing his phone on the bed and pulling his hair into a ponytail.
“What are you talking about? I keep plenty of things private and you /know that/.”
“You /can’t/ post pictures of me.”
Chuuya glared at the bedspread, feeling petulant because he /wasn’t going to/.
“I /know/,” he huffed. “I can’t take pictures for /myself/ now? And anyway,
“You /can’t/ post pictures of me.”
Chuuya glared at the bedspread, feeling petulant because he /wasn’t going to/.
“I /know/,” he huffed. “I can’t take pictures for /myself/ now? And anyway,
you still won’t tell me /why/.”
“It’s work policy,” Shirase said, looking away and avoiding eye contact. Chuuya narrowed his eyes.
“And you work in a /warehouse/.”
“I just...I can’t /talk/ about it, alright? You just have to trust me.”
“It’s work policy,” Shirase said, looking away and avoiding eye contact. Chuuya narrowed his eyes.
“And you work in a /warehouse/.”
“I just...I can’t /talk/ about it, alright? You just have to trust me.”
/Trust/. That’s been a difficult task lately, but Chuuya didn’t mention that. They were finally good again. They were communicating again, and if Chuuya got /angry/ they wouldn’t get anywhere. So he took a slow breath and focused on flattening the bedspread in front of him.
“I want to show people the man I love,” he said. “I can’t even say that I’m /with/ you and it’s just...hard.”
Shirase’s eyes softened as he moved forward. He gently coaxed Chuuya into his arm, sitting in his lap. Chuuya looked down at him with a little frown.
Shirase’s eyes softened as he moved forward. He gently coaxed Chuuya into his arm, sitting in his lap. Chuuya looked down at him with a little frown.
Shirase ran his thumb over Chuuya’s cheek gently.
“I know. I’m sorry. But even without work…I have to share you with the world. I want /this/ to just be for us."
Chuuya leaned into his hand with a soft smile. It was moments like /that/, that made the weird behavior and even
“I know. I’m sorry. But even without work…I have to share you with the world. I want /this/ to just be for us."
Chuuya leaned into his hand with a soft smile. It was moments like /that/, that made the weird behavior and even
weirder requests less important. Just this was enough. Just /him/.
“Alright,” Chuuya whispered. Shirase smiled as he pulled Chuuya down for a deep, slow kiss. Chuuya hummed into the contact, wrapping his arms around Shirase’s neck and sinking down into his embrace.
“Alright,” Chuuya whispered. Shirase smiled as he pulled Chuuya down for a deep, slow kiss. Chuuya hummed into the contact, wrapping his arms around Shirase’s neck and sinking down into his embrace.
“Thanks, lamb,” Shirase hummed when he pulled away. “You’re always so understanding.”
Chuuya just smirked. He kissed him again, this time a little harder, the photo temporarily forgotten.
|| PRESENT ||
//”You’re always so understanding.”//
Chuuya just smirked. He kissed him again, this time a little harder, the photo temporarily forgotten.
|| PRESENT ||
//”You’re always so understanding.”//
Those words don’t taste so sweet now. There’s something about them that sends prickles of doubt through his body.
He doesn’t /want/ to be understanding, he wants to have /communication/. Both ways.
He doesn’t /want/ to be understanding, he wants to have /communication/. Both ways.
But when he doesn't get a response for the rest of the night, he realizes he /isn't/ going to get that. At least not tonight.
And he won't get any /sleep/ either.
And he won't get any /sleep/ either.
__
Dazai turns off the car but reaches out to stop Atsushi from getting out. He turns with a confused frown.
“What?”
Dazai contemplates the benefits of actually asking. It’s not like Atsushi would /judge/ him, but that doesn’t make it less difficult to admit to /himself/.
Dazai turns off the car but reaches out to stop Atsushi from getting out. He turns with a confused frown.
“What?”
Dazai contemplates the benefits of actually asking. It’s not like Atsushi would /judge/ him, but that doesn’t make it less difficult to admit to /himself/.
He takes a deep breath and just asks.
“How did you know you were attracted to men?”
Atsushi’s eyebrows shoot up and his mouth opens slightly, but he doesn’t speak for a long moment.
“Um…” he tilts his head to the side as he thinks about it. “I think I always knew.
“How did you know you were attracted to men?”
Atsushi’s eyebrows shoot up and his mouth opens slightly, but he doesn’t speak for a long moment.
“Um…” he tilts his head to the side as he thinks about it. “I think I always knew.
I never really thought about girls like that.”
Dazai heaves a big sigh and shrugs.
“I see.”
Atsushi pouts, turning to fully face his brother.
“Why?” he asks before his eyes widen and he leans in, an excited sparkle in them. Dazai knows he absolutely is not prepared for
Dazai heaves a big sigh and shrugs.
“I see.”
Atsushi pouts, turning to fully face his brother.
“Why?” he asks before his eyes widen and he leans in, an excited sparkle in them. Dazai knows he absolutely is not prepared for
/whatever/ he’s going to say and braces himself. “Is this about Nakahara-senpai?”
As he expected, a question he is absolutely /not ready/ to think about. Dazai freezes for just a moment before he waves it away flippantly.
Once he can actually /interact/ with Chuuya Nakahara,
As he expected, a question he is absolutely /not ready/ to think about. Dazai freezes for just a moment before he waves it away flippantly.
Once he can actually /interact/ with Chuuya Nakahara,
he’ll realize it was a fluke. That it’s been a while and Chuuya is just beautiful and he got /confused/. That’s all.
“No, of course not,” he says. “I want Tachibana to be bisexual, is all.”
Atsushi looks a little disappointed for a moment before perking up again.
“No, of course not,” he says. “I want Tachibana to be bisexual, is all.”
Atsushi looks a little disappointed for a moment before perking up again.
“A bisexual protagonist would be amazing, Osamu-nii!” he says, smiling. Dazai feels just a little bit of guilt churn in his gut. He doesn’t even know if the executives would /let/ him do that. “You should talk to Dad about it.”
Dazai fights the urge to cringe. Asking Atsushi
Dazai fights the urge to cringe. Asking Atsushi
is one thing because he doesn’t /really/ question the weird things Dazai asks anymore. But Fukuzawa? He sees through /everything/.
Atsushi is looking at him intently now, so Dazai nods with a little grimace that he really tries to turn into a smile.
“Yeah, you’re right,” he
Atsushi is looking at him intently now, so Dazai nods with a little grimace that he really tries to turn into a smile.
“Yeah, you’re right,” he
says as he finally gets out of the car. Atsushi follows quickly. “I’ll ask him.”
Mori opens the door faster than he /should/ have, clearly already waiting there. But he doesn’t say anything about the delay when Atsushi surges forward to hug him.
His eyes meet Dazai's over
Mori opens the door faster than he /should/ have, clearly already waiting there. But he doesn’t say anything about the delay when Atsushi surges forward to hug him.
His eyes meet Dazai's over
Atsushi's shoulder and he looks /exhausted/.
“Hey, Dad,” Atsushi says before releasing Mori and moving into the house, presumably to find Fukuzawa.
Dazai steps in after him, removing his shoes and pretending like Mori’s eyes aren’t burning at the back of his head.
“Hey, Dad,” Atsushi says before releasing Mori and moving into the house, presumably to find Fukuzawa.
Dazai steps in after him, removing his shoes and pretending like Mori’s eyes aren’t burning at the back of his head.
“What did you do?” Mori finally asks. “You look guilty.”
“I do /not/,” he says, covering the lingering confusion with a charming smile. Mori just raises an eyebrow and Dazai deflates. “It’s nothing.”
“Are you still blocked?” Mori asks and Dazai runs a hand over his face
“I do /not/,” he says, covering the lingering confusion with a charming smile. Mori just raises an eyebrow and Dazai deflates. “It’s nothing.”
“Are you still blocked?” Mori asks and Dazai runs a hand over his face
miserably.
“/Please/ don’t bring that up.”
Mori chuckles softly, patting Dazai’s shoulder soothingly.
“You’ll get past it.”
Dazai isn’t so sure about that, but that’s another thing he simply /isn’t/ thinking about right now. He chooses a new direction.
“/Please/ don’t bring that up.”
Mori chuckles softly, patting Dazai’s shoulder soothingly.
“You’ll get past it.”
Dazai isn’t so sure about that, but that’s another thing he simply /isn’t/ thinking about right now. He chooses a new direction.
“Did you know that Atsushi’s class has a section on me?”
Mori hums with a distracted nod as he finds some lint on Dazai’s shirt and brushes it away.
His fingers linger on the bandages around Dazai’s neck, like they always do, gently adjusting them without a word.
Mori hums with a distracted nod as he finds some lint on Dazai’s shirt and brushes it away.
His fingers linger on the bandages around Dazai’s neck, like they always do, gently adjusting them without a word.
“He told us when he got the syllabus.”
Dazai’s mouth drops open.
“And you didn’t /tell me/?”
“You were doing research in Hokkaido, and then it never really /came up/ again. Why are you so upset?”
“I’m not upset,” Dazai says too quickly, backtracking. “It just would have
Dazai’s mouth drops open.
“And you didn’t /tell me/?”
“You were doing research in Hokkaido, and then it never really /came up/ again. Why are you so upset?”
“I’m not upset,” Dazai says too quickly, backtracking. “It just would have
been nice to /know/.”
Mori frowns, tilting his head, but he can’t press further when Dazai steps out of reach. “Have you been taking extra shifts again?” he asks. Mori pauses, momentarily frozen.
He rolls his eyes when he processes the statement.
“I’m fine.”
Mori frowns, tilting his head, but he can’t press further when Dazai steps out of reach. “Have you been taking extra shifts again?” he asks. Mori pauses, momentarily frozen.
He rolls his eyes when he processes the statement.
“I’m fine.”
Dazai shakes his head with a grin that he got from /Mori/. He never did stop being a little shit.
“/That/ is not what I asked.”
“Dinner’s getting cold,” Mori says and even as Dazai starts walking further into the house, he turns to smirk over his shoulder.
“/That/ is not what I asked.”
“Dinner’s getting cold,” Mori says and even as Dazai starts walking further into the house, he turns to smirk over his shoulder.
“Now who’s avoiding the question?”
“Who do you think you got it from?” Mori shoots back.
Once they reach the kitchen, Mori steps over to Fukuzawa, wrapping an arm around his back and leaning into him. Fukuzawa smiles, turning to press a kiss to Mori’s temple before
“Who do you think you got it from?” Mori shoots back.
Once they reach the kitchen, Mori steps over to Fukuzawa, wrapping an arm around his back and leaning into him. Fukuzawa smiles, turning to press a kiss to Mori’s temple before
focusing on plating the food again.
“Osamu,” he greets. “How are you?”
“Great!” Dazai replies, fake bravado no match for Fukuzawa’s knowing glance. But for now he lets it go.
“Is Ryuu joining us tonight?” Mori asks.
“Osamu,” he greets. “How are you?”
“Great!” Dazai replies, fake bravado no match for Fukuzawa’s knowing glance. But for now he lets it go.
“Is Ryuu joining us tonight?” Mori asks.
Atsushi sighs, shaking his head and helping move food to the table.
“No, he just got a new contract and she’s arriving in town tonight,” he says. “But he said he would try to be here next time.”
Dazai hides a smile behind his hand as he sends off a text to his agent for a
“No, he just got a new contract and she’s arriving in town tonight,” he says. “But he said he would try to be here next time.”
Dazai hides a smile behind his hand as he sends off a text to his agent for a
meeting, trying to seem distracted as they start talking about Akutagawa’s latest job.
Atsushi is aware that Akutagawa used to be in the mafia, but the three of them silently agreed to /not/ tell their parents about it.
Atsushi is aware that Akutagawa used to be in the mafia, but the three of them silently agreed to /not/ tell their parents about it.
The only reason Dazai got a contact in the mafia for research was because of Akutagawa.
But Mori and Fukuzawa don’t /need/ to know that.
Besides, how do you tell a detective that his son is seriously dating a former mafioso?
Easy, you don’t.
But Mori and Fukuzawa don’t /need/ to know that.
Besides, how do you tell a detective that his son is seriously dating a former mafioso?
Easy, you don’t.
But watching his parents and his brother laughing and setting the table brings back long forgotten memories.
And he almost laughs at them now, if only because he was such a /pain/ when he was a kid.
And he almost laughs at them now, if only because he was such a /pain/ when he was a kid.
tw // food
(Ranpo's icon in Dazai'd phone is a crepe from bsd)
(Ranpo's icon in Dazai'd phone is a crepe from bsd)
|| SEVENTEEN YEARS AGO ||
Mori had been seeing Fukuzawa for a few months by the time he wanted Dazai to meet him.
Dazai, at age fourteen, did /not care/ about some /man/ his father was seeing. Some /stranger/ who wanted to take over their lives and ruin /everything/.
Mori had been seeing Fukuzawa for a few months by the time he wanted Dazai to meet him.
Dazai, at age fourteen, did /not care/ about some /man/ his father was seeing. Some /stranger/ who wanted to take over their lives and ruin /everything/.
Not to mention this man had his own kid, who was /four/. So, really, Mori was trying to rope him into having a /baby brother/. Which was absolutely ridiculous.
Dazai was /perfectly/ happy with just him and his dad. Maybe Mori worked a lot at the hospital and maybe Dazai was
Dazai was /perfectly/ happy with just him and his dad. Maybe Mori worked a lot at the hospital and maybe Dazai was
kind of lonely but this was /not/ the solution. He didn’t /want/ another dad.
If anything he just wanted more of /his/ dad.
“Listen, Dad, we can still go back,” Dazai said, very convincingly, when they stopped in front of an unfamiliar house. Mori looked at him with tired
If anything he just wanted more of /his/ dad.
“Listen, Dad, we can still go back,” Dazai said, very convincingly, when they stopped in front of an unfamiliar house. Mori looked at him with tired
exasperation, reaching for the door handle. Dazai threw his seatbelt off, lunging across his father’s lap and pressing the button to lock all the doors.
“Osamu, why are you so against this? I just want you to /meet/ him.” Mori reached out to hold Dazai’s shoulders when he
“Osamu, why are you so against this? I just want you to /meet/ him.” Mori reached out to hold Dazai’s shoulders when he
shifted to sit in his seat again. Dazai looked away, petulant.
“I don’t /want/ to meet him.”
“Why?”
“Am I /really/ not enough for you?” he asked, guilt tripping because it’s the easiest course of action. But Mori let out a long, tired sigh.
“I don’t /want/ to meet him.”
“Why?”
“Am I /really/ not enough for you?” he asked, guilt tripping because it’s the easiest course of action. But Mori let out a long, tired sigh.
“I’m not doing any of this to /hurt/ you, Osamu.”
“Then /why/ do you want a new family?” he snapped, because that really was the heart of it all, wasn’t it? He felt /left behind/. Unwanted.
Mori froze, turning to his son and /really/ looking at him.
“Then /why/ do you want a new family?” he snapped, because that really was the heart of it all, wasn’t it? He felt /left behind/. Unwanted.
Mori froze, turning to his son and /really/ looking at him.
Dazai had always been a bit of a loner. He didn’t make friends easily and he liked to insist that he /preferred/ to be alone.
But Mori could /see/ that that wasn’t quite true. In that moment he just looked /lonely/ and /afraid/. Mori reached out to pull his son close, leaning
But Mori could /see/ that that wasn’t quite true. In that moment he just looked /lonely/ and /afraid/. Mori reached out to pull his son close, leaning
across the center console to hug Dazai as tightly as possible.
“You’re /my son/,” he said fiercely, shaking his head. “And I could /never/ replace you. I want you to meet Yukichi and Atsushi because...because Yukichi makes me /happy/. But that doesn’t mean that you /don’t/
“You’re /my son/,” he said fiercely, shaking his head. “And I could /never/ replace you. I want you to meet Yukichi and Atsushi because...because Yukichi makes me /happy/. But that doesn’t mean that you /don’t/
make me happy.”
Dazai gripped the back of his father’s coat, refusing to let more emotion than that out just yet.
“What’s wrong with how things are /now/?”
“Nothing’s /wrong/,” Mori said, trying to find a way to /explain it/.
Dazai gripped the back of his father’s coat, refusing to let more emotion than that out just yet.
“What’s wrong with how things are /now/?”
“Nothing’s /wrong/,” Mori said, trying to find a way to /explain it/.
“Does something have to be /wrong/ for me to date someone?”
Dazai paused for a long moment, biting his lip and holding Mori tighter. They didn’t really /hug/ often, but the comfort was /nice/.
Dazai had never actually /seen/ his father date anyone. He knew that he must have
Dazai paused for a long moment, biting his lip and holding Mori tighter. They didn’t really /hug/ often, but the comfort was /nice/.
Dazai had never actually /seen/ his father date anyone. He knew that he must have
when Dazai was a baby, but not since he was really young.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want his dad to be happy, he /did/, but the ‘what ifs’ and worst case scenarios swirling through his mind were deafening.
When Dazai didn’t answer for a long moment, Mori ran his fingers through
It wasn’t that he didn’t want his dad to be happy, he /did/, but the ‘what ifs’ and worst case scenarios swirling through his mind were deafening.
When Dazai didn’t answer for a long moment, Mori ran his fingers through
the boy’s messy brown hair. He looked /just/ like his /other/ father.
But Mori didn’t want to think about that, so he shook his head. “Just give him a chance. If you talk to him and you don’t like him or he makes you uncomfortable, we’ll reevaluate. Okay?”
But Mori didn’t want to think about that, so he shook his head. “Just give him a chance. If you talk to him and you don’t like him or he makes you uncomfortable, we’ll reevaluate. Okay?”
With a sigh that spoke volumes, Dazai nodded once against Mori’s chest.
“Fine,” he whispered. “But I’m not making any promises.”
“And I won’t ask you to,” Mori agreed, waiting until Dazai let go first before unlocking the doors and getting out of the car.
“Fine,” he whispered. “But I’m not making any promises.”
“And I won’t ask you to,” Mori agreed, waiting until Dazai let go first before unlocking the doors and getting out of the car.
Dazai was reluctant, but he got out on his own, crossing his arms over his chest and hunching his shoulders.
The man who answered the door wasn’t exactly what Dazai was /expecting/. From the traditional clothes to the silver hair. He was /tall/, too. He was intimidating and
The man who answered the door wasn’t exactly what Dazai was /expecting/. From the traditional clothes to the silver hair. He was /tall/, too. He was intimidating and
Dazai almost felt the urge to step back behind Mori when the man smiled. It was small--not fake or trying too hard. But like he was just genuinely happy to see them. Dazai clenched his fists at his sides and looked away.
“I’m glad you two could make it,” the man said, ushering
“I’m glad you two could make it,” the man said, ushering
them in. He leaned over to press a kiss to Mori’s cheek as they stepped into the genkan and Dazai resisted the urge to step between them because that would be immature.
Big yellow and purple eyes peeked at Dazai from around a corner as Fukuzawa and Mori spoke softly behind him.
Big yellow and purple eyes peeked at Dazai from around a corner as Fukuzawa and Mori spoke softly behind him.
When Dazai looked over properly, the little boy ducked back around the corner.
Before he could follow after him, Mori’s hand came down on his shoulder.
“Yukichi, this is my son Osamu,” he said. “Osamu, this is Fukuzawa Yukichi.”
“Hello, Osamu.” Dazai looked Fukuzawa up and
Before he could follow after him, Mori’s hand came down on his shoulder.
“Yukichi, this is my son Osamu,” he said. “Osamu, this is Fukuzawa Yukichi.”
“Hello, Osamu.” Dazai looked Fukuzawa up and
down before pursing his lips. He was /nice/ but lots of people are nice and don’t actually mean it.
“Hi.”
Mori sighed behind him, squeezing his shoulder gently.
“He’s...shy,” Mori said.
“I’m /not/ shy,” Dazai countered, because he liked causing problems.
“Hi.”
Mori sighed behind him, squeezing his shoulder gently.
“He’s...shy,” Mori said.
“I’m /not/ shy,” Dazai countered, because he liked causing problems.
“I just don’t have a reason to trust him.”
“/Osamu/.”
“I /said/ I wasn’t making any promises,” Dazai shot back, but was distracted when Fukuzawa started laughing. “What’s so /funny/?” he asked, getting defensive. Fukuzawa shook his head, clearing his throat.
“/Osamu/.”
“I /said/ I wasn’t making any promises,” Dazai shot back, but was distracted when Fukuzawa started laughing. “What’s so /funny/?” he asked, getting defensive. Fukuzawa shook his head, clearing his throat.
“Nothing,” he said, still smiling. “You clearly care about your father very much.”
Dazai nodded cautiously, trying to figure out the trick. Of course he cared about his dad. Who did this /stranger/ even think he was? “I don’t expect you to trust me, but whether you believe me
Dazai nodded cautiously, trying to figure out the trick. Of course he cared about his dad. Who did this /stranger/ even think he was? “I don’t expect you to trust me, but whether you believe me
or not, I also care about your father a lot.”
“You don’t even /know/ him,” Dazai countered. Fukuzawa tilted his head, contemplating that before shrugging one shoulder.
“I suppose you have a point. But I’d like to. I’d like to get to know you as well, if you’re okay with that.”
“You don’t even /know/ him,” Dazai countered. Fukuzawa tilted his head, contemplating that before shrugging one shoulder.
“I suppose you have a point. But I’d like to. I’d like to get to know you as well, if you’re okay with that.”
Dazai pursed his lips, looking between Mori, who looked so hopeful, and Fukuzawa, who’s entire body radiated patience. To a frankly /annoying/ degree. Dazai kicked his shoes off.
“Fine, whatever,” he said as he stepped into the house slowly. Fukuzawa smiled, walking past Dazai
“Fine, whatever,” he said as he stepped into the house slowly. Fukuzawa smiled, walking past Dazai
and herding the shy boy out from around the corner. Dazai frowned down at him. Just one thought struck him then.
//Four year olds are so small//.
Or maybe this one was especially so. But Dazai couldn’t help the pang of warmth in his chest when Fukuzawa knelt down beside the
//Four year olds are so small//.
Or maybe this one was especially so. But Dazai couldn’t help the pang of warmth in his chest when Fukuzawa knelt down beside the
boy and rubbed his arms soothingly.
“Do you want to introduce yourself?” he asked softly. The boy nodded very seriously, stepping forward slightly and making eye contact with Dazai before quickly looking away.
“I’m Atsushi. It’s nice to meet you,” he whispered.
“Do you want to introduce yourself?” he asked softly. The boy nodded very seriously, stepping forward slightly and making eye contact with Dazai before quickly looking away.
“I’m Atsushi. It’s nice to meet you,” he whispered.
Dazai glanced back at Mori who just nodded encouragingly. Dazai knitted his eyebrows together as he looked at Fukuzawa again before looking to Atsushi.
“I’m Osamu,” he mumbled. Atsushi’s eyes brightened, like the final contract for Dazai’s young life had been sealed
“I’m Osamu,” he mumbled. Atsushi’s eyes brightened, like the final contract for Dazai’s young life had been sealed
and raced forward, hesitating before reaching out a chubby hand.
“Do you like to read, Osamu?”
Dazai frowned.
“Uh. I guess.”
Atsushi grabbed his hand then, pulling lightly.
“Can I show you my books?” he asked. “My grandpa’s a writer!”
“Do you like to read, Osamu?”
Dazai frowned.
“Uh. I guess.”
Atsushi grabbed his hand then, pulling lightly.
“Can I show you my books?” he asked. “My grandpa’s a writer!”
Dazai twisted his head around so fast his neck popped, staring at Mori with shock and desperation. He put on his /best/ puppy eyes which were /clearly/ a cry for help.
But, like the traitor that he was, Mori just smiled and nodded. /Encouraging/ him.
But, like the traitor that he was, Mori just smiled and nodded. /Encouraging/ him.
With a resigned sigh, Dazai followed behind Atsushi willingly.
“Sure. Show me your books.”
Mori would /not/ hear the end of this. Dazai would make sure of it.
|| PRESENT ||
After dinner, Atsushi and Mori get into a discussion about Atsushi’s classes, which /naturally/
“Sure. Show me your books.”
Mori would /not/ hear the end of this. Dazai would make sure of it.
|| PRESENT ||
After dinner, Atsushi and Mori get into a discussion about Atsushi’s classes, which /naturally/
leads to his teachers and TAs and Dazai finds a very thin excuse to quickly exit the room.
And, because he’s actually cursed, Fukuzawa is stepping out of his office as Dazai walks down the hall. And once their eyes meet, it’s over for him.
“Osamu,” he says with a nod and a
And, because he’s actually cursed, Fukuzawa is stepping out of his office as Dazai walks down the hall. And once their eyes meet, it’s over for him.
“Osamu,” he says with a nod and a
smile. “Is there something on your mind?”
Dazai smiles and tilts his head. The picture of innocence.
“I don’t know what you mean,” he says. Fukuzawa nods toward his office and Dazai steps inside reluctantly, slumping into a chair in front of the desk as Fukuzawa sits behind it.
Dazai smiles and tilts his head. The picture of innocence.
“I don’t know what you mean,” he says. Fukuzawa nods toward his office and Dazai steps inside reluctantly, slumping into a chair in front of the desk as Fukuzawa sits behind it.
Dazai’s eyes catch on a file, pushed to the side neatly on the corner of the desk.
/The Scarlet Disciples/
He’s heard of them--Kouyou has complained about them in their meetings--but he doesn’t know much else. Maybe he should ask about it. Deflection is the best defense.
/The Scarlet Disciples/
He’s heard of them--Kouyou has complained about them in their meetings--but he doesn’t know much else. Maybe he should ask about it. Deflection is the best defense.
“You don’t have to tell me,” Fukuzawa says, bringing Dazai’s thoughts back to the present. Because he’s always been infuriatingly patient. “But you know you can talk to me about anything.”
Dazai does know this. But /actually/ talking to your stepdad about your sexuality crisis
Dazai does know this. But /actually/ talking to your stepdad about your sexuality crisis
at age 31 is really not something you can mentally prepare for.
“I’m fine.”
“You know, your grandfather had this problem, too.”
Dazai’s first thought is /granddad is bi?/ and then he realizes what Fukuzawa /means/ and shakes his head quickly, his hair flying out in every
“I’m fine.”
“You know, your grandfather had this problem, too.”
Dazai’s first thought is /granddad is bi?/ and then he realizes what Fukuzawa /means/ and shakes his head quickly, his hair flying out in every
direction.
“It’s not about /writing/,” he says, sinking further down in the chair. “And I’m /not/ blocked. I’m...taking a break.”
Fukuzawa doesn’t believe him, but he’s gracious enough to let it slide.
“Alright,” he allows. “We’re here for you if you need us.”
“It’s not about /writing/,” he says, sinking further down in the chair. “And I’m /not/ blocked. I’m...taking a break.”
Fukuzawa doesn’t believe him, but he’s gracious enough to let it slide.
“Alright,” he allows. “We’re here for you if you need us.”
“Yep, you’re both /very/ supportive,” Dazai says, sitting up and pointing at the file. A perfect distraction. “So, you’re investigating the Scarlet Disciples?”
Fukuzawa’s eyebrows lift up as he nods. “That’s a pretty big case. Can I ask some questions about it? For my novel.”
Fukuzawa’s eyebrows lift up as he nods. “That’s a pretty big case. Can I ask some questions about it? For my novel.”
“I thought you were taking a break,” Fukuzawa says, a small smile tugging at his lips. Dazai waves it away.
“A break from /writing/ not from /research/.”
“Of course,” Fukuzawa says indulgently. “You know I can’t tell you about an active investigation.”
“A break from /writing/ not from /research/.”
“Of course,” Fukuzawa says indulgently. “You know I can’t tell you about an active investigation.”
Dazai sighs dramatically, leaning back in the chair and letting his head fall back over the edge.
“Speaking of research,” he says, ever the master of segues. “I’ve been, uh, thinking about Tachibana’s character lately.”
Fukuzawa nods, resting his elbows on the desk and
“Speaking of research,” he says, ever the master of segues. “I’ve been, uh, thinking about Tachibana’s character lately.”
Fukuzawa nods, resting his elbows on the desk and
leaning forward, giving Dazai his full attention. “And I was thinking about doing something different with his sexuality.”
Fukuzawa’s eyes widen slightly with a little smile.
“I see.”
With all the resolve he has and the guise of this being purely for character development,
Fukuzawa’s eyes widen slightly with a little smile.
“I see.”
With all the resolve he has and the guise of this being purely for character development,
Dazai sits up slightly, meeting Fukuzawa’s gaze.
“How did you know you were bisexual?”
Fukuzawa sighs softly, thinking it over and choosing his words carefully.
“It took a while for me,” he says. “I didn’t really understand my attraction to men until just before I met
“How did you know you were bisexual?”
Fukuzawa sighs softly, thinking it over and choosing his words carefully.
“It took a while for me,” he says. “I didn’t really understand my attraction to men until just before I met
Atsushi’s mother.”
Dazai leans forward at that.
“How did you know?”
Fukuzawa sits back, a fond smile on his face.
“It’s rather embarrassing now,” he says. “There was a stray cat I used to feed, outside my apartment. And one afternoon I went to feed him and found another man
Dazai leans forward at that.
“How did you know?”
Fukuzawa sits back, a fond smile on his face.
“It’s rather embarrassing now,” he says. “There was a stray cat I used to feed, outside my apartment. And one afternoon I went to feed him and found another man
there. He was.../breathtaking/.”
Dazai’s thoughts drift to Chuuya Nakahara unwillingly. Brilliant red hair and an attitude. The casual confidence. Dazzling blue eyes. “We exchanged a few words, but I never saw him again. That was when I knew.”
Dazai’s thoughts drift to Chuuya Nakahara unwillingly. Brilliant red hair and an attitude. The casual confidence. Dazzling blue eyes. “We exchanged a few words, but I never saw him again. That was when I knew.”
Dazai swallows thickly, nodding once.
“Oh.”
Fukuzawa sighs, a bit wistful, and looks at Dazai again.
“Then I met Kiyoko. When she passed I had Atsushi to take care of, but…” he trails off, smiling softly as he doesn’t break eye contact.
“Oh.”
Fukuzawa sighs, a bit wistful, and looks at Dazai again.
“Then I met Kiyoko. When she passed I had Atsushi to take care of, but…” he trails off, smiling softly as he doesn’t break eye contact.
“When I met your father it was like that first moment all over again.”
Dazai looks away, smiling softly down at his hands. Fukuzawa’s voice is still soft when he continues. “You can talk to us about /anything/, Osamu.”
“Yeah,” Dazai sighs. He will. Eventually. “I know.”
__
Dazai looks away, smiling softly down at his hands. Fukuzawa’s voice is still soft when he continues. “You can talk to us about /anything/, Osamu.”
“Yeah,” Dazai sighs. He will. Eventually. “I know.”
__
Now, Shirase can pinpoint the /exact/ moment he fucked up. It was when he agreed to do a ‘quick job’ before Chuuya got home. It was answering his phone /to begin with/.
But that doesn’t help him get /out/ of it. He’s been tied to a chair for several hours at this point.
But that doesn’t help him get /out/ of it. He’s been tied to a chair for several hours at this point.
His shoulders are aching and the bruises on his entire body are already dark and sore. The problem is he /doesn’t/ have the information they want.
They’re Scarlet Disciples and they want to know about the executives in the Port Mafia but /that’s/ the thing about the mafia.
They’re Scarlet Disciples and they want to know about the executives in the Port Mafia but /that’s/ the thing about the mafia.
The compartmentalization of information is /important/. Shirase barely knows /anything/ about the executives, much less the /boss/.
And what little concrete information he /does/ have he’ll die protecting. He has his pride after all.
And what little concrete information he /does/ have he’ll die protecting. He has his pride after all.
It’s close to midnight when he realizes his /second/ mistake. His /phone/. It’s been going off periodically all evening and when one of the disciples gets fed up and opens it, he knows he’s well and truly fucked up.
The man smirks, meeting his eyes.
“Who’s Chuuya?”
The man smirks, meeting his eyes.
“Who’s Chuuya?”
Shirase freezes and it’s the /wrong thing to do/ as the man grins wider, dangling the phone in front of Shirase’s eyes. Chuuya's worried and that’s really nice to know but right now it’s /dangerous/. “Sounds like he’s /real/ worried about you.”
“It’d be a shame if something
“It’d be a shame if something
happened to him,” the other man says.
Shirase’s eyes darken. Chuuya isn’t even /involved/. Shirase feels a pulse of protective rage wash over him. He won’t let these people threaten his boyfriend.
“If you fucking /touch/ him I’ll tear you to pieces.”
Shirase’s eyes darken. Chuuya isn’t even /involved/. Shirase feels a pulse of protective rage wash over him. He won’t let these people threaten his boyfriend.
“If you fucking /touch/ him I’ll tear you to pieces.”
“Oh yeah?” the first man drawls. “You’re not really in a /position/ to threaten /me/.”
Shirase grins when he hears the telltale sound of guns loading.
“I’m not,” he agrees. “But they are.”
The bullets fly around him and he feels someone’s hands at his wrists.
Shirase grins when he hears the telltale sound of guns loading.
“I’m not,” he agrees. “But they are.”
The bullets fly around him and he feels someone’s hands at his wrists.
“Did you get the flashdrive?” the person asks. Shirase doesn’t recognize her, but he doesn’t make a lot of contact with anyone above him. He nods, running after her once his hands and ankles are free from the chair.
He snatches his phone up from the ground and shoves it in his
He snatches his phone up from the ground and shoves it in his
pocket.
Once he gets pushed safely into a mafia vehicle that speeds away, he takes stock of what /happened/.
He grits his teeth and turns to the woman beside him. She’s looking out the window and she seems /bored/.
Shirase clears his throat, pulling the flashdrive out of
Once he gets pushed safely into a mafia vehicle that speeds away, he takes stock of what /happened/.
He grits his teeth and turns to the woman beside him. She’s looking out the window and she seems /bored/.
Shirase clears his throat, pulling the flashdrive out of
his shoe, where he’d thrown it when he got caught. He holds it out to her and looks away.
“I think I messed up.”
__
It’s almost 6AM when Chuuya hears the lock on the front door click. He hadn’t even bothered to try to sleep as worry and anxiety coiled in his gut all night.
“I think I messed up.”
__
It’s almost 6AM when Chuuya hears the lock on the front door click. He hadn’t even bothered to try to sleep as worry and anxiety coiled in his gut all night.
He looks up from where he’s grading essays at the table. And he's ready to yell and not care who he wakes up when Shirase actually steps inside the house and leans back against the door as he closes it.
He looks /bad/. He’s bruised and scratched up. He has a split lip and blood
He looks /bad/. He’s bruised and scratched up. He has a split lip and blood
on his knuckles and Chuuya forgets what he was going to say as he stands and rushes to his boyfriend’s side.
“What happened?” he asks as he wraps an arm around Shirase’s shoulders and pulls him forward to lay him down on the couch. Shirase hisses softly as he sinks down.
“What happened?” he asks as he wraps an arm around Shirase’s shoulders and pulls him forward to lay him down on the couch. Shirase hisses softly as he sinks down.
“Nothing, I’m fine,” he says. Chuuya grits his teeth.
“Like hell you’re /fine/,” he says, kneeling down beside the couch to push silver hair back.
The injuries look like they’ve been cleaned already and he has bandages over the worst of them. Chuuya meets his eyes with a frown.
“Like hell you’re /fine/,” he says, kneeling down beside the couch to push silver hair back.
The injuries look like they’ve been cleaned already and he has bandages over the worst of them. Chuuya meets his eyes with a frown.
“What /happened/ to you?”
Shirase looks away with a sigh.
“I got jumped.”
Chuuya’s eyes widen.
“What?” he whispers. “We need to report--!”
Shirase reaches out to grab Chuuya’s hand before he can stand to get his phone
“No!” he says, grimacing when the movement jostles
Shirase looks away with a sigh.
“I got jumped.”
Chuuya’s eyes widen.
“What?” he whispers. “We need to report--!”
Shirase reaches out to grab Chuuya’s hand before he can stand to get his phone
“No!” he says, grimacing when the movement jostles
his injuries. Chuuya looks down at him in shock.
“What do you /mean/ no?” he asks.
“We can’t report it,” Shirase says and Chuuya frowns, shaking his head because that doesn’t /make sense/.
“You’re not telling me something,” Chuuya says softly.
“What do you /mean/ no?” he asks.
“We can’t report it,” Shirase says and Chuuya frowns, shaking his head because that doesn’t /make sense/.
“You’re not telling me something,” Chuuya says softly.
Because Shirase hides /everything/ now, why would this be any different? Chuuya clenches his fists in his hands and stands up. He walks toward the kitchen, ignoring Shirase calling after him.
“Chuuya you /can’t/ report this!”
Chuuya turns to him with a glare as he pulls open
“Chuuya you /can’t/ report this!”
Chuuya turns to him with a glare as he pulls open
the freezer and grabs two bags of frozen strawberries.
“I’m /not/.” He pushes his glasses up his nose as he closes the door and wraps the bags carefully in hand towels. Even in his anger, he gently presses them against Shirase’s shoulders. “Don’t move.”
“I’m /not/.” He pushes his glasses up his nose as he closes the door and wraps the bags carefully in hand towels. Even in his anger, he gently presses them against Shirase’s shoulders. “Don’t move.”
“How did you know my…?” he trails off, eyes drifting down to Chuuya’s shoulders. Chuuya sighs, moving to sit at the table again, but doesn’t look at the essays.
“I know what it looks like when someone’s hiding their pain,” he says, gesturing vaguely to his shoulders and
“I know what it looks like when someone’s hiding their pain,” he says, gesturing vaguely to his shoulders and
shifting his knees slightly.
“Chuuya,” Shirase sighs. He looks at Chuuya for a long moment before letting his head fall back against the couch arm and closing his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Chuuya nods. He knows he’s sorry. He’s always sorry. It hurts because he /means/ it, too.
“Chuuya,” Shirase sighs. He looks at Chuuya for a long moment before letting his head fall back against the couch arm and closing his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
Chuuya nods. He knows he’s sorry. He’s always sorry. It hurts because he /means/ it, too.
But the words have more weight than they should. Like he’s apologizing for something /else/. Chuuya’s too tired to try to get it out of him, though.
He leans his elbow on the table and rests his cheek in his hand. His hair is loose and tumbles over his shoulders.
He leans his elbow on the table and rests his cheek in his hand. His hair is loose and tumbles over his shoulders.
“I can’t keep doing this,” he says softly.
Shirase nods.
“I know.” He sighs, adjusting the packs on his shoulders. “I want to be better.”
“And I want to stay,” Chuuya replies. “I want us to /work/, but...the fact that you don’t trust me makes it pretty hard to imagine.”
Shirase nods.
“I know.” He sighs, adjusting the packs on his shoulders. “I want to be better.”
“And I want to stay,” Chuuya replies. “I want us to /work/, but...the fact that you don’t trust me makes it pretty hard to imagine.”
“I do trust you,” Shirase argues. Chuuya shakes his head.
“No, you don’t,” Chuuya says. “You trust that I’m faithful and you trust that I love you, but there have /always/ been things you wouldn’t tell me. I just thought that you were a private person.”
“Chuuya,” Shirase
“No, you don’t,” Chuuya says. “You trust that I’m faithful and you trust that I love you, but there have /always/ been things you wouldn’t tell me. I just thought that you were a private person.”
“Chuuya,” Shirase
starts, but Chuuya cuts him off, finally looking up at him.
“I /get/ that my life is a lot. And I /get/ that I come with a lot of issues.”
“You don’t come with /issues/, lamb.”
“Yes, I do,” Chuuya insists. “I’m not trying to get your sympathy, or anything. It’s /fine/,
“I /get/ that my life is a lot. And I /get/ that I come with a lot of issues.”
“You don’t come with /issues/, lamb.”
“Yes, I do,” Chuuya insists. “I’m not trying to get your sympathy, or anything. It’s /fine/,
I just...I need for my partner to trust me.”
Shirase meets his eyes and he looks so /earnest/.
“I /do/ trust you, Chuuya,” he says. “It’s not that I don’t /want/ to tell you things. It’s that I just /can’t/ tell you.”
Chuuya heaves a heavy sigh. He stands and makes his way
Shirase meets his eyes and he looks so /earnest/.
“I /do/ trust you, Chuuya,” he says. “It’s not that I don’t /want/ to tell you things. It’s that I just /can’t/ tell you.”
Chuuya heaves a heavy sigh. He stands and makes his way
to the couch. He hauls Shirase to his feet even as he protests.
“Chuuya, your--!”
“I’m fine,” he grumbles. “I need to get some sleep before my class. And you should rest.”
Chuuya deposits Shirase on the bed and helps him slip his shoes off and get comfortable.
“Chuuya, your--!”
“I’m fine,” he grumbles. “I need to get some sleep before my class. And you should rest.”
Chuuya deposits Shirase on the bed and helps him slip his shoes off and get comfortable.
When he stands and starts to walk away, Shirase reaches out.
“Where are you going?”
“The spare room,” Chuuya answers simply. “I think we both need some space.”
The door closes and Chuuya leans back against it. He knows Shirase is lying about something, that he should report
“Where are you going?”
“The spare room,” Chuuya answers simply. “I think we both need some space.”
The door closes and Chuuya leans back against it. He knows Shirase is lying about something, that he should report
the incident to the police anyway, /something/.
But he decides against it, setting up the extra futon in the spare room and letting Emi cuddle close beside him.
Either way, the events set in motion on that night couldn’t have been prevented. Not really, anyway.
__
But he decides against it, setting up the extra futon in the spare room and letting Emi cuddle close beside him.
Either way, the events set in motion on that night couldn’t have been prevented. Not really, anyway.
__
"So let me get this straight," Ranpo says, his feet perched atop his desk as he leans back in his chair and inspects one of the muffins Dazai brought with him. "You need to do research at a university for your novel about the /mafia/."
Dazai nods.
"That's correct."
Dazai nods.
"That's correct."
Sharp green eyes dart from the muffin to Dazai's face and look him over carefully. Slowly, Ranpo grabs his glasses, which is never a good sign, and puts them on.
Dazai remains perfectly unaffected, waiting.
After a moment, Ranpo lets his feet drop to the floor, momentarily
Dazai remains perfectly unaffected, waiting.
After a moment, Ranpo lets his feet drop to the floor, momentarily
stunned. If nothing else, Dazai can say he's never been able to do /that/ before.
Now Ranpo just looks /terribly/ amused.
"/Really/, Dazai?"
"Okay, well that tone is pretty hurtful, y'know." Dazai pouts. Ranpo just smirks, threading his fingers together and leaning forward
Now Ranpo just looks /terribly/ amused.
"/Really/, Dazai?"
"Okay, well that tone is pretty hurtful, y'know." Dazai pouts. Ranpo just smirks, threading his fingers together and leaning forward
against his desk.
"You're going to change the entire plot of your manuscript because you have a crush on a grad student?"
At this point, Dazai has stopped questioning exactly /how/ Ranpo does that. Still, he scoffs.
"No of course not," he says. "I'm /adding/ to the manuscript.
"You're going to change the entire plot of your manuscript because you have a crush on a grad student?"
At this point, Dazai has stopped questioning exactly /how/ Ranpo does that. Still, he scoffs.
"No of course not," he says. "I'm /adding/ to the manuscript.
I'm giving it /emotional depth/."
"Emotional depth? Seriously?" Ranpo asks. Dazai knows he's been caught, but being stubborn is a strong point for him.
"Yes, exactly," he says, nodding along. Ranpo isn't fooled. "I want to try something different with Tachibana's sexuality."
"Emotional depth? Seriously?" Ranpo asks. Dazai knows he's been caught, but being stubborn is a strong point for him.
"Yes, exactly," he says, nodding along. Ranpo isn't fooled. "I want to try something different with Tachibana's sexuality."
/That/ has Ranpo's eyebrows lifting.
"Oh?" he asks. "And you're /not/ just saying this so you can flirt with a grad student?"
"/No/."
Ranpo sits back again.
"Because if I get the go ahead from the execs and you get /bored/ and don't follow through with Tachibana, I'm not
"Oh?" he asks. "And you're /not/ just saying this so you can flirt with a grad student?"
"/No/."
Ranpo sits back again.
"Because if I get the go ahead from the execs and you get /bored/ and don't follow through with Tachibana, I'm not
above making your life absolutely /miserable/."
Dazai holds back a shiver. He knows Ranpo can and /will/ follow through on a threat like that.
"Do you think they would say yes?"
Ranpo tilts his head.
"Do you /want/ them to?" he asks. Dazai frowns.
"Yes?"
Ranpo shrugs.
Dazai holds back a shiver. He knows Ranpo can and /will/ follow through on a threat like that.
"Do you think they would say yes?"
Ranpo tilts his head.
"Do you /want/ them to?" he asks. Dazai frowns.
"Yes?"
Ranpo shrugs.
"Then of course they will," he says.
It's not lost on Dazai that he isn't saying he /thinks/ the execs will approve, it's that he will /make it happen/.
"Right," Dazai says, nodding slowly. He really hadn't thought this far ahead and how he's pinned beneath that knowing gaze.
It's not lost on Dazai that he isn't saying he /thinks/ the execs will approve, it's that he will /make it happen/.
"Right," Dazai says, nodding slowly. He really hadn't thought this far ahead and how he's pinned beneath that knowing gaze.
"Next question." Ranpo says, holding up two fingers. "Let's assume you have executive approval to have Tachibana be attracted to men, how /exactly/ do you plan to get into the university?"
Dazai waves a lazy hand at that.
"Oh, I have that covered."
Ranpo raises his eyebrows.
Dazai waves a lazy hand at that.
"Oh, I have that covered."
Ranpo raises his eyebrows.
"Go on," he says. The tone is a bit /judgy/, but Dazai elects to ignore it.
"I know the head of the department."
"Oh, so you plan to throw your name around and expect that to get you into a prestigious PhD program?"
Dazai shakes his head.
"I'm not using Tsushima Shuuji."
"I know the head of the department."
"Oh, so you plan to throw your name around and expect that to get you into a prestigious PhD program?"
Dazai shakes his head.
"I'm not using Tsushima Shuuji."
Ranpo looks like he's having much more fun than is really /warranted/ as he hums.
"Is that /so/?"
"I want to be treated like a normal student. To get the experience."
Ranpo rolls his eyes.
"Because the degree you already have didn't give you enough /experience/, right?"
"Is that /so/?"
"I want to be treated like a normal student. To get the experience."
Ranpo rolls his eyes.
"Because the degree you already have didn't give you enough /experience/, right?"
"That's different," Dazai says quickly. "And it's /been a while/, alright?"
"Since you got laid or since you went to university?"
Dazai chokes.
"You're doing this on purpose."
"Doing what?" Ranpo asks, the picture of innocence.
"Making this harder than it needs to be."
"Since you got laid or since you went to university?"
Dazai chokes.
"You're doing this on purpose."
"Doing what?" Ranpo asks, the picture of innocence.
"Making this harder than it needs to be."
"That's interesting," Ranpo muses. "Because I don't think I'm making this hard /enough/ since you still think this is going to go well for you."
"What do you mean?"
"Let's go over your plan," he says. "You plan to fake your way into a PhD program by pretending that you need
"What do you mean?"
"Let's go over your plan," he says. "You plan to fake your way into a PhD program by pretending that you need
to do /research/ so you can give your mafioso protagonist a /realistic/ grad student boyfriend."
Dazai nods reluctantly. "/All of this/, so that you can get into a grad student's pants."
"It's not /just/ to get in his pants."
"Fine, so you can get your /own/ grad student
Dazai nods reluctantly. "/All of this/, so that you can get into a grad student's pants."
"It's not /just/ to get in his pants."
"Fine, so you can get your /own/ grad student
boyfriend. That doesn't change the fact that none of this is necessary and it /will/ bite you in the ass."
Dazai is about to ask 'how can you be sure?' but realizes that it would be a stupid question and sits back in his chair.
When he doesn't reply, Ranpo continues.
Dazai is about to ask 'how can you be sure?' but realizes that it would be a stupid question and sits back in his chair.
When he doesn't reply, Ranpo continues.
"If you /actually/ want to change Tachibana's sexuality, I can do that, but if it's just because you're blocked--"
"I'm /not/ blocked."
"So, you've been missing deadlines for /fun/?"
Dazai holds eye contact for a long moment before slumping back.
"Okay, so maybe I'm blocked."
"I'm /not/ blocked."
"So, you've been missing deadlines for /fun/?"
Dazai holds eye contact for a long moment before slumping back.
"Okay, so maybe I'm blocked."
"Let's say your plan works," Ranpo says. "Let's pretend you get into the program, you flirt with the grad student and he flirts back. How do you think he'll react when he finds out /who/ you are?"
"I would tell him before anything serious happened."
"And you think he'll be
"I would tell him before anything serious happened."
"And you think he'll be
fine with all the lies /before that/?"
"Maybe not /fine/ with them, but..." Dazai trails off, sighing. "I hadn't really gotten there in my planning yet."
"Clearly." Ranpo shakes his head. "I'm not saying no. I wouldn't have the energy to try to stop you, anyway."
"Maybe not /fine/ with them, but..." Dazai trails off, sighing. "I hadn't really gotten there in my planning yet."
"Clearly." Ranpo shakes his head. "I'm not saying no. I wouldn't have the energy to try to stop you, anyway."
"You just think it would be stupid to try."
"I don't /think/ that. It /would/ be stupid to try after I've told you /exactly/ how it's going to go wrong."
Dazai doesn't respond. "/But/ since I know you'll try it anyway, because you don't like listening to /reason/, I will get
"I don't /think/ that. It /would/ be stupid to try after I've told you /exactly/ how it's going to go wrong."
Dazai doesn't respond. "/But/ since I know you'll try it anyway, because you don't like listening to /reason/, I will get
the approval for Tachibana. Everything else is out of my very intelligent hands."
Dazai smirks, nodding.
"Thanks."
Ranpo sighs then, tilting his head to the side.
"There's another thing you should know," he says. "Sasaki left you about..." he pulls a sticky note off the
Dazai smirks, nodding.
"Thanks."
Ranpo sighs then, tilting his head to the side.
"There's another thing you should know," he says. "Sasaki left you about..." he pulls a sticky note off the
side of his desk. "Fifty-seven messages. This week."
"It's Wednesday."
"It seems she's /very/ interested in the launch date for your manuscript."
Dazai lets his head fall back against the chair.
"Can't we block her number?"
"We tried that. She keeps spoofing it."
"It's Wednesday."
"It seems she's /very/ interested in the launch date for your manuscript."
Dazai lets his head fall back against the chair.
"Can't we block her number?"
"We tried that. She keeps spoofing it."
Dazai heaves a weary sigh. "We're working on it, but I thought you should know. She'll probably switch to social media soon."
Dazai nods.
"Got it," he says. "Is that everything?"
Ranpo hums, adjusting his glasses and looking Dazai over again. Then he lets out a burst of
Dazai nods.
"Got it," he says. "Is that everything?"
Ranpo hums, adjusting his glasses and looking Dazai over again. Then he lets out a burst of
surprised laughter. He shakes his head before leaning his elbow on his desk and resting his chin in his palm.
"You're on a losing streak," he says rather cryptically. Dazai stands, raising an eyebrow. "Don't make any bets."
Dazai furrows his brow but nods.
"Right."
"You're on a losing streak," he says rather cryptically. Dazai stands, raising an eyebrow. "Don't make any bets."
Dazai furrows his brow but nods.
"Right."
Dazai shakes his head as he leaves the office and takes his time down the stairs. He can't even remember the last time he /made/ a bet with anyone.
He lets the thought drop as he slips into his car and checks his phone. He has a few hours before his weekly lunch with Fyodor, so
He lets the thought drop as he slips into his car and checks his phone. He has a few hours before his weekly lunch with Fyodor, so
he spends them preemptively changing his passwords (/just/ in case) and blocking the few accounts he /knows/ Sasaki made to follow his Twitter account.
It's not like she's done anything particularly /malicious/ or /illegal/ for that matter. She's just...a bit obsessed.
It's not like she's done anything particularly /malicious/ or /illegal/ for that matter. She's just...a bit obsessed.
And while that poses a lot of problems for him /personally/ there isn't a lot he can do unless it escalates.
Once their designated meeting time arrives, Dazai knows what he has to do. Despite himself, Fyodor is the only person he feels comfortable discussing it with.
Once their designated meeting time arrives, Dazai knows what he has to do. Despite himself, Fyodor is the only person he feels comfortable discussing it with.
So, he struts up to the table the Russian is already seated at and plops down.
"I'm having a crisis," he says. Fyodor looks up from his phone with a grin.
"And what might /this/ one be about?"
Dazai rolls his eyes, fiddling with his hands on the table, which does not escape
"I'm having a crisis," he says. Fyodor looks up from his phone with a grin.
"And what might /this/ one be about?"
Dazai rolls his eyes, fiddling with his hands on the table, which does not escape
the other man's notice. Fyodor leans in slightly. "Oh, it's a /real/ crisis."
"The font thing was a /real/ crisis."
Fyodor levels him with a bored stare, resting his cheek in his hand lazily.
"The typeface for your mafioso's business cards, which isn't mentioned /in the text/,
"The font thing was a /real/ crisis."
Fyodor levels him with a bored stare, resting his cheek in his hand lazily.
"The typeface for your mafioso's business cards, which isn't mentioned /in the text/,
was not a crisis. You just didn't want to think about being stuck."
Dazai sighs.
"I'm having some doubts...about my sexuality."
Fyodor's hand drops to the table as he leans in.
"/Really/?" he asks. Dazai nods. "Now /that/ is unexpected. Congratulations."
Dazai purses his
Dazai sighs.
"I'm having some doubts...about my sexuality."
Fyodor's hand drops to the table as he leans in.
"/Really/?" he asks. Dazai nods. "Now /that/ is unexpected. Congratulations."
Dazai purses his
lips with a little half shrug.
"Well, I don't know for /sure/," he hedges. Fyodor gestures to him and tilts his head.
"Okay, well what brought on the doubts?"
Dazai /really/ doesn't want to admit it, because it's /stupid/. Who sees someone /one time/ and stops being able to
"Well, I don't know for /sure/," he hedges. Fyodor gestures to him and tilts his head.
"Okay, well what brought on the doubts?"
Dazai /really/ doesn't want to admit it, because it's /stupid/. Who sees someone /one time/ and stops being able to
think about /anything/ or /anyone/ else for days? He scoots his chair back to cross his arms and lay them across the tabletop with a groan.
"I met Atsushi's TA," he says. "And I haven't been able to stop thinking about him. I don't know if it's /something/ or if I'm just
"I met Atsushi's TA," he says. "And I haven't been able to stop thinking about him. I don't know if it's /something/ or if I'm just
/confused/. And I don't want to, like, /come out/ and then have to take it back because I confused aesthetic appreciation for actual attraction."
Fyodor frowns, reaching for his phone and fiddling with it.
"Has that ever happened to you /before/?"
"Well.../no/," Dazai says.
Fyodor frowns, reaching for his phone and fiddling with it.
"Has that ever happened to you /before/?"
"Well.../no/," Dazai says.
"But it /could/, right?"
The Russian's lips twist down in a frown.
"I suppose it could /theoretically/," he allows. "But I've never heard of that."
Dazai shrugs again, with a little head tilt that is /probably/ a nod, but Fyodor can't be sure.
"I just don't know what I
The Russian's lips twist down in a frown.
"I suppose it could /theoretically/," he allows. "But I've never heard of that."
Dazai shrugs again, with a little head tilt that is /probably/ a nod, but Fyodor can't be sure.
"I just don't know what I
should do," he says. Fyodor unlocks his phone and opens Instagram.
"Let's just clear up the confusion."
Dazai sits up, opening his mouth to ask what /that/ is supposed to mean when Fyodor keeps talking. "What's his name?"
"Chuuya Nakahara," Dazai answers without thinking.
"Let's just clear up the confusion."
Dazai sits up, opening his mouth to ask what /that/ is supposed to mean when Fyodor keeps talking. "What's his name?"
"Chuuya Nakahara," Dazai answers without thinking.
Fyodor nods, typing quickly. He makes a triumphant noise and clicks a profile.
"He /does/ look like your type."
"/What/?"
"He's a /model/," Fyodor says. "That's so very /you/."
Dazai rolls his eyes, but promptly loses his breath when Fyodor flips his phone around.
"/Oh/."
"He /does/ look like your type."
"/What/?"
"He's a /model/," Fyodor says. "That's so very /you/."
Dazai rolls his eyes, but promptly loses his breath when Fyodor flips his phone around.
"/Oh/."
"I think I'm bi," Dazai says, staring and maybe a little starstruck. Fyodor scoffs, but the little smile /looks/ genuine as he turns his phone around.
"You're welcome."
Dazai runs a hand down his face.
"I've made a huge mistake."
"Oh? Now that sounds /juicy/, do tell."
"You're welcome."
Dazai runs a hand down his face.
"I've made a huge mistake."
"Oh? Now that sounds /juicy/, do tell."
"I /might/ have told him that I'm starting the PhD program next semester. And I /might/ have also told Ranpo the same thing. So if I /don't/ do it, I'll never live a day in peace again."
"That sounds like karma to me."
"You're probably right."
"And how are you planning to
"That sounds like karma to me."
"You're probably right."
"And how are you planning to
get into this program?"
"Oda is the head of the department," Dazai says, waving his hand. Fyodor chuckles.
"Ah, nepotism at it's finest."
"What?"
"You only know Oda because of your grandfather. Tangentially, it's nepotism."
"I wouldn't /actually/ be enrolled," Dazai says.
"Oda is the head of the department," Dazai says, waving his hand. Fyodor chuckles.
"Ah, nepotism at it's finest."
"What?"
"You only know Oda because of your grandfather. Tangentially, it's nepotism."
"I wouldn't /actually/ be enrolled," Dazai says.
"So it's not like I'd be /taking/ some else's spot. And anyway, I'm doing it for research."
"Is that how you pitched it to Ranpo?"
Dazai sniffs haughtily, looking away because he doesn't appreciate how easily Fyodor can read him.
"And if it is?"
"You would be an idiot."
"Is that how you pitched it to Ranpo?"
Dazai sniffs haughtily, looking away because he doesn't appreciate how easily Fyodor can read him.
"And if it is?"
"You would be an idiot."
"Thanks /so much/ for your support," Dazai deadpans.
"What's this /research/ you'll be doing?" Fyodor asks. He always has an air of mischief around him, but Dazai has come to find that it's one of his charms.
Even if it's usually at Dazai's expense. Dazai crosses his arms as
"What's this /research/ you'll be doing?" Fyodor asks. He always has an air of mischief around him, but Dazai has come to find that it's one of his charms.
Even if it's usually at Dazai's expense. Dazai crosses his arms as
he sits back.
"Before I answer, it's for /emotional depth/," Dazai says. "To make Tachibana feel more /sympathetic/."
He'd thought of that while he was systematically blocking Sasaki's fake accounts. He thinks it's pretty believable.
Fyodor blinks a few times before laughing.
"Before I answer, it's for /emotional depth/," Dazai says. "To make Tachibana feel more /sympathetic/."
He'd thought of that while he was systematically blocking Sasaki's fake accounts. He thinks it's pretty believable.
Fyodor blinks a few times before laughing.
"Oh, /this/ will be good. Tell me, Dazai, how will you add /emotional depth/ to your mafioso?"
Well not he's almost embarrassed to say. He pushes the feelings down and sighs.
"I was going to have him meet a university student. And I wanted to make him bisexual."
Well not he's almost embarrassed to say. He pushes the feelings down and sighs.
"I was going to have him meet a university student. And I wanted to make him bisexual."
Fyodor grins with complete and total /glee/.
"You don't typically try to live vicariously through your characters. What a twist."
"It's pure coincidence."
"Save it, Dazai. I see through you."
Dazai sighs. It's true. And he hates it. "And what will you do if you /do/ catch his
"You don't typically try to live vicariously through your characters. What a twist."
"It's pure coincidence."
"Save it, Dazai. I see through you."
Dazai sighs. It's true. And he hates it. "And what will you do if you /do/ catch his
eye? I assume you'll be attending under your /real/ name. Otherwise you wouldn't get the /authentic/ university experience. So what's your plan?"
"I...don't know."
Fyodor hums, like that's what he expected to hear, the bastard.
"And how will you tell him who you /really/ are?"
"I...don't know."
Fyodor hums, like that's what he expected to hear, the bastard.
"And how will you tell him who you /really/ are?"
Dazai pouts.
"Do you and Rampo have a secret text chain to chew me out or something?"
"That's a /great/ idea."
Dazai sighs, hoping that bypassing the topic as quickly as possible will make it disappear.
"I would tell him before anything serious happened."
"I'm sure that
"Do you and Rampo have a secret text chain to chew me out or something?"
"That's a /great/ idea."
Dazai sighs, hoping that bypassing the topic as quickly as possible will make it disappear.
"I would tell him before anything serious happened."
"I'm sure that
conversation would go well."
"Can I have a dream for five minutes before you pick it apart?"
Fyodor puts his hands up in surrender.
"There's one thing you haven't considered, though."
Of course there is. There always is whenever he talks to Fyodor. "What if he's taken?"
"Can I have a dream for five minutes before you pick it apart?"
Fyodor puts his hands up in surrender.
"There's one thing you haven't considered, though."
Of course there is. There always is whenever he talks to Fyodor. "What if he's taken?"
And with just four words, Dazai's rose-colored glasses crack. Chuuya is /gorgeous/, so it only makes sense that he would already be with someone.
But Dazai can hope, right? He didn't seem /upset/ when Dazai was blatantly checking him out, so he could be single. Right?
But Dazai can hope, right? He didn't seem /upset/ when Dazai was blatantly checking him out, so he could be single. Right?
"For that matter, you don't even know if he's interested in man," Fyodor adds.
Dazai freezes. That's true. That's the worst thing Fyodor's said /all afternoon/. "But since you already /told/ Ranpo about your little scheme, you'll just have to hope there's something there."
Dazai freezes. That's true. That's the worst thing Fyodor's said /all afternoon/. "But since you already /told/ Ranpo about your little scheme, you'll just have to hope there's something there."
"And you don't think there is?"
Fyodor tilts his head to think about that. After a moment, he pins Dazai with a violet gaze and smirks.
"Let's make a wager."
Dazai tenses at that, Ranpo's words drifting through his mind.
//You're on a losing streak//.
He can at least
Fyodor tilts his head to think about that. After a moment, he pins Dazai with a violet gaze and smirks.
"Let's make a wager."
Dazai tenses at that, Ranpo's words drifting through his mind.
//You're on a losing streak//.
He can at least
hear the /stakes/, right? He'll just hear Fyodor out and then refuse. Easy.
"What's the wager?" he asks. Fyodor's smirk widens.
"/I/ bet that he /is/ interested in men, but he's already dating someone."
"And what would you get if you won?"
"You have to make your Twitter
"What's the wager?" he asks. Fyodor's smirk widens.
"/I/ bet that he /is/ interested in men, but he's already dating someone."
"And what would you get if you won?"
"You have to make your Twitter
profile picture an image of you reading my book. For six months."
Dazai wrinkles his nose. He /greatly/ respects Fyodor's works and everything that they represent. But he isn't about to /admit/ that.
"And what would I get if /I/ won?" he asks. Fyodor shrugs one shoulder.
Dazai wrinkles his nose. He /greatly/ respects Fyodor's works and everything that they represent. But he isn't about to /admit/ that.
"And what would I get if /I/ won?" he asks. Fyodor shrugs one shoulder.
"Well /ideally/ you'd get a boyfriend," he says, like that was obvious. Maybe it was. "If not, then bragging rights at least."
This is a challenge. He knows that. And he knows that he's probably going to lose. He can feel it in his bones.
But his dads didn't raise a /quitter/.
This is a challenge. He knows that. And he knows that he's probably going to lose. He can feel it in his bones.
But his dads didn't raise a /quitter/.
"Fine," he says, sealing his own fate. "It's a bet."
He can feel Ranpo's judgement from across town and he elects to ignore it. Fyodor looks extremely pleased with himself as he reaches out a hand to shake.
Like the final signature on his life, he shakes the Russian's hand.
__
He can feel Ranpo's judgement from across town and he elects to ignore it. Fyodor looks extremely pleased with himself as he reaches out a hand to shake.
Like the final signature on his life, he shakes the Russian's hand.
__
"And you're /sure/ he wasn't actually jumped?" Kouyou asks and Chuuya sighs, shoulders slumping as he walks. He adjusts his hold on his phone.
"Pretty sure," he says. "He was bandaged up but he looked /bad/. And he freaked out when I wanted to report it."
Kouyou hums softly.
"Pretty sure," he says. "He was bandaged up but he looked /bad/. And he freaked out when I wanted to report it."
Kouyou hums softly.
"You know, I could be much more helpful if you would tell me his /name/," she says. Chuuya rolls his eyes.
"I don't need you to run a background check on my boyfriend, Ane-san."
"Just a little one!"
"What would a /little/ background check even /be/" he asks with a little
"I don't need you to run a background check on my boyfriend, Ane-san."
"Just a little one!"
"What would a /little/ background check even /be/" he asks with a little
laugh. He's /exhausted/, but talking to his sister always makes him feel better.
And maybe it's weird that he still hasn't told his family much more than that he's dating someone, but things always get /weird/ when Kouyou finds out about his boyfriends.
He just wanted /one/
And maybe it's weird that he still hasn't told his family much more than that he's dating someone, but things always get /weird/ when Kouyou finds out about his boyfriends.
He just wanted /one/
relationship to last longer than a couple months. It /could/ be a coincidence that his only long-term relationship was the one he kept mostly secret.
But it probably isn't.
When they met, Shirase was really private /anyway/ and then things got serious and he just didn't want
But it probably isn't.
When they met, Shirase was really private /anyway/ and then things got serious and he just didn't want
to lose him and what they had. Maybe that was a mistake.
He shakes his head, clearing the thoughts. They're in a rough spot, they aren't breaking up. Kouyou's voice draws him back.
"Just a /quick/ criminal background check. Nothing /weird/!"
"It's /all/ weird. I can handle
He shakes his head, clearing the thoughts. They're in a rough spot, they aren't breaking up. Kouyou's voice draws him back.
"Just a /quick/ criminal background check. Nothing /weird/!"
"It's /all/ weird. I can handle
handle it myself," he says. "I called you to vent about relationship problems not to have you try to /fix it/. I can take care of myself."
"I know you can," she says, voice soft. Chuuya's shoulders ache like a distant memory pushing to the front of his mind.
He walks faster,
"I know you can," she says, voice soft. Chuuya's shoulders ache like a distant memory pushing to the front of his mind.
He walks faster,
down the street. The warmth of the sun heats his black jeans but he ignores it. He clears his throat.
"Uh, anyway, I just needed to get that off my chest, I guess."
"You know you can call me for anything, Chuuya. I'm always available for you."
"Yeah," he says. "I know."
"Uh, anyway, I just needed to get that off my chest, I guess."
"You know you can call me for anything, Chuuya. I'm always available for you."
"Yeah," he says. "I know."
"Don't forget to call Dad sometime this week. You know how he gets."
Chuuya holds back another sigh. It's not that he doesn't like talking to his parents. It's that they /worry/. And he appreciates it but he's /twenty four/.
"Right, I will. Anything I should know?"
Chuuya holds back another sigh. It's not that he doesn't like talking to his parents. It's that they /worry/. And he appreciates it but he's /twenty four/.
"Right, I will. Anything I should know?"
"Don't tell them about your shady boyfriend and you should be fine."
"Like I'd ever tell them /that/ anyway."
Kouyou laughs.
"Take care of yourself, Chuuya. And call me if you need me. /Anytime/."
Higuchi's cafe comes into sight and Chuuya adjusts his bag over his shoulder.
"Like I'd ever tell them /that/ anyway."
Kouyou laughs.
"Take care of yourself, Chuuya. And call me if you need me. /Anytime/."
Higuchi's cafe comes into sight and Chuuya adjusts his bag over his shoulder.
"I /got it/. I have to go. Bye, love you!" he says as he swings the door open, nodding to the familiar faces inside in greeting.
"Love you, too."
Chuuya hangs up and sags back against the door.
Shuffling by the counter follows quickly and he cracks his eyes open to see Kajii
"Love you, too."
Chuuya hangs up and sags back against the door.
Shuffling by the counter follows quickly and he cracks his eyes open to see Kajii
holding a tray of croissants as he walks out from the kitchen.
"You look awful," he says. Chuuya chuckles as he moves away from the door and drops into an empty chair at the table the other TAs are already occupying.
"Thanks," he says. "I only got, like, three hours of sleep."
"You look awful," he says. Chuuya chuckles as he moves away from the door and drops into an empty chair at the table the other TAs are already occupying.
"Thanks," he says. "I only got, like, three hours of sleep."
He leans forward to slouch against the tabletop. Yuan's hand reaches out and she runs her fingers through his loose, messy hair. He hums in appreciation.
"What happened?" she asks.
"What do you /think/ happened?" Kajii cuts in and Chuuya can hear Tachihara saying something, but
"What happened?" she asks.
"What do you /think/ happened?" Kajii cuts in and Chuuya can hear Tachihara saying something, but
Now that he's /sitting/ he isn't sure that the ache in his shoulders is just a memory. His knees and jaw are pulsing with a dull ache, too.
He /knew/ that not sleeping made it worse but he didn't think it would be affected by just /one night/.
It's fine. He'll just go to bed
He /knew/ that not sleeping made it worse but he didn't think it would be affected by just /one night/.
It's fine. He'll just go to bed
early tonight. No big deal.
"Chuuya?" Yuan asks and Chuuya jolts slightly, lifting his head enough to look at her. Tachihara sits beside her, his attention locked on Kajii, who doesn't seem bothered at all.
"Sorry, what?"
Yuan scratches his scalp soothingly with a frown.
"Chuuya?" Yuan asks and Chuuya jolts slightly, lifting his head enough to look at her. Tachihara sits beside her, his attention locked on Kajii, who doesn't seem bothered at all.
"Sorry, what?"
Yuan scratches his scalp soothingly with a frown.
"I asked what happened."
"Oh," he says, then shrugs. "Shirase got home late. That's all. Don't worry about it."
"We're gonna worry about it regardless," Tachihara says. Louisa looks up from her notes and tilts her head.
"What was he doing?" she asks carefully. Chuuya winces.
"Oh," he says, then shrugs. "Shirase got home late. That's all. Don't worry about it."
"We're gonna worry about it regardless," Tachihara says. Louisa looks up from her notes and tilts her head.
"What was he doing?" she asks carefully. Chuuya winces.
"He got jumped," he says. His friends all seem to /tense/ at that and he sits up to look at them. When he glances at Kajii, he's stiffly placing the croissants in the display case.
"Doing /what/?" Tachihara asks. Now that's a thought. Chuuya hadn't really thought to /ask/ at
"Doing /what/?" Tachihara asks. Now that's a thought. Chuuya hadn't really thought to /ask/ at
time, since he was more concerned about checking his injuries. But Shirase never did say /why/ he was even out to begin with.
The realization makes a cold pit open in his stomach and he feels sick. He hates being in the dark and being /lied to/ more than anything.
"I don't
The realization makes a cold pit open in his stomach and he feels sick. He hates being in the dark and being /lied to/ more than anything.
"I don't
know," he says, fists curling against the table. He clenches his teeth, even when it makes his jaw ache in response. "He didn't say."
"Chuuya..." Yuan whispers but Chuuya sits up and leans back out of her reach, crossing his arms over his chest.
"/Don't/. I know."
"Chuuya..." Yuan whispers but Chuuya sits up and leans back out of her reach, crossing his arms over his chest.
"/Don't/. I know."
There's a heavy silence that settles over the group until the bell over the door jangles as John bursts in, breathing heavily.
"Sorry I'm late!" he calls, strolling up to the counter and snatching a croissant from Kajii's tray and plopping down in the chair beside Chuuya.
"Sorry I'm late!" he calls, strolling up to the counter and snatching a croissant from Kajii's tray and plopping down in the chair beside Chuuya.
He glances over and raises his eyebrows as he takes a bite of the croissant.
"You look like shit," he says. Chuuya leans down to open his back and pull out his laptop.
"I'm aware."
John looks at him for a long moment before shaking his head.
"Yeah, I'm not touching that."
"You look like shit," he says. Chuuya leans down to open his back and pull out his laptop.
"I'm aware."
John looks at him for a long moment before shaking his head.
"Yeah, I'm not touching that."
He turns to the group as a whole and pulls out his own laptop. "I swear the first years turn in terrible lab reports on /purpose/."
Chuuya relaxes slightly, logging into his computer and taking a slow breath.
John can be kind of an asshole, but he's also good at redirecting a
Chuuya relaxes slightly, logging into his computer and taking a slow breath.
John can be kind of an asshole, but he's also good at redirecting a
conversation when he can tell there's something /off/ about it.
Yuan looks at him and he /knows/ that she isn't going to let it go that easily. But he's distracted as Higuchi comes out from the kitchen and sets down snacks and drinks for everyone with smile.
"Don't work too
Yuan looks at him and he /knows/ that she isn't going to let it go that easily. But he's distracted as Higuchi comes out from the kitchen and sets down snacks and drinks for everyone with smile.
"Don't work too
hard, you guys," she says.
"We'll do our best," Louisa says with a little smile.
Kajii steps up behind Higuchi, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her cheek. She leans into him, laughing as he squeezes her tight. When she looks at the group again she tilts her head.
"We'll do our best," Louisa says with a little smile.
Kajii steps up behind Higuchi, wrapping his arms around her waist and kissing her cheek. She leans into him, laughing as he squeezes her tight. When she looks at the group again she tilts her head.
"Is Lucy running late?" she asks.
"She's doing research with her advisor," Tachihara says, sipping his drink slowly. Higuchi nods slowly. She moves back to the counter when another customer walks in.
The group goes about grading assignments and chatting for a few hours.
"She's doing research with her advisor," Tachihara says, sipping his drink slowly. Higuchi nods slowly. She moves back to the counter when another customer walks in.
The group goes about grading assignments and chatting for a few hours.
When the sun starts to sink below the horizon, Chuuya quickly puts his things away and stands. He /definitely/ wasn't imagining it. His body is /stiff/ and achy, but he ignores it.
He just needs to push through until he gets home. With a tight smile he nods toward the door.
He just needs to push through until he gets home. With a tight smile he nods toward the door.
"I'm going on ahead," he says. Yuan holds her hand out, throwing her things in her bag, but Chuuya keeps moving.
"Wait, I'll go with you!" she says.
"No, I'm fine," he shoots back. She glares at him and he glares right back. "We'll talk /later/."
She slumps her chair but
"Wait, I'll go with you!" she says.
"No, I'm fine," he shoots back. She glares at him and he glares right back. "We'll talk /later/."
She slumps her chair but
doesn't move to follow after him again.
"Fine."
He nods to the others and slips out into the warm evening air. The walk home is a little difficult, but he manages.
He knows that he'll get the same answer when he asks Shirase /why/ he was out at all.
//I can't tell you//.
"Fine."
He nods to the others and slips out into the warm evening air. The walk home is a little difficult, but he manages.
He knows that he'll get the same answer when he asks Shirase /why/ he was out at all.
//I can't tell you//.
But he has to at least /try/. If only for his own pride. He clicks his tongue. He'll get the truth. One way or another.
And he doesn't know yet that he /will/. Just not a way anyone would /want/.
__
Ranpo's eyes widen when he catches the /mistake/ on the calendar in the office.
And he doesn't know yet that he /will/. Just not a way anyone would /want/.
__
Ranpo's eyes widen when he catches the /mistake/ on the calendar in the office.
That’s the only thing it /can/ be, because only an /idiot/ would have done it on /purpose/. He slams a hand down on the reception desk, making the man sitting there jolt and look up at him. He’s new. /Wonderful/.
“There’s a mistake on the calendar,” Ranpo says in lieu of a
“There’s a mistake on the calendar,” Ranpo says in lieu of a
greeting. The receptionist tilts his head, opening his mouth and then frowning.
“I double-checked it myself, Edogawa-san.”
Ranpo narrows his eyes, leaning forward.
“No, there /is/ a mistake,” he says. “Because if someone sent a car to pick up Dazai Osamu on /purpose/ then
“I double-checked it myself, Edogawa-san.”
Ranpo narrows his eyes, leaning forward.
“No, there /is/ a mistake,” he says. “Because if someone sent a car to pick up Dazai Osamu on /purpose/ then
they would be a /moron/.”
That makes the man pale a bit and Ranpo bites back a sneer, but only just. “Did you even /read/ the introduction packet on the authors contracted here?” he asks.
The man opens his mouth to answer, but Ranpo shakes his head. “Oh, rhetorical questions
That makes the man pale a bit and Ranpo bites back a sneer, but only just. “Did you even /read/ the introduction packet on the authors contracted here?” he asks.
The man opens his mouth to answer, but Ranpo shakes his head. “Oh, rhetorical questions
are rude. You clearly /didn’t/ and I want to know /why/.”
That somehow seems to give the man the courage to sit forward slightly, an /audacious/ amount of indignation on his face.
“I /did/ read the packet,” he says. “But his /fiancé/ called and requested the car since
That somehow seems to give the man the courage to sit forward slightly, an /audacious/ amount of indignation on his face.
“I /did/ read the packet,” he says. “But his /fiancé/ called and requested the car since
Dazai-san’s car broke down. He has a meeting scheduled this afternoon that was marked as important.”
“His /what/?” Ranpo asks, even while the pieces come together and he sighs, tapping his fist against the counter rhythmically. “Was her name /Sasaki/ by chance?”
“His /what/?” Ranpo asks, even while the pieces come together and he sighs, tapping his fist against the counter rhythmically. “Was her name /Sasaki/ by chance?”
The confidence is waning now and Ranpo gives him a snide grin. “Do you just believe /anyone/ who claims to be a famous author’s fiancé?”
“She knew his real name--!”
“She’s /obsessed/ with him, of /course/ she knows his name,” he snaps back, shutting the man down.
“She knew his real name--!”
“She’s /obsessed/ with him, of /course/ she knows his name,” he snaps back, shutting the man down.
“Dazai is /painfully/ single. And if anyone claims that he’s /not/ you can forward the call to /me/ and I’ll handle it. Understood?”
“Yes, sir.”
“If Dazai’s car breaks down, he’ll /walk/ or he /won’t show up/,” he says. The man nods quickly and Ranpo leans forward again.
“Yes, sir.”
“If Dazai’s car breaks down, he’ll /walk/ or he /won’t show up/,” he says. The man nods quickly and Ranpo leans forward again.
“You should be taking notes since you don't seem to have any reading comprehension skills.”
“Uh, right!” he jumps and grabs a pen and a notepad, writing out what Ranpo said quickly.
“Don’t lie to me again and just /do your job/.” With that he storms off, snatching his phone
“Uh, right!” he jumps and grabs a pen and a notepad, writing out what Ranpo said quickly.
“Don’t lie to me again and just /do your job/.” With that he storms off, snatching his phone
off his desk and dialing. He doesn’t have a lot of expectations, but he waits while the phone rings anyway.
__
__
❗️❗️❗️TRIGGER WARNING❗️❗️❗️
the next scene will contain content that may be difficult for those sensitive to depictions of panic attacks, descriptions of vehicular trauma and kidnapping
my cw thread has been updated!
i will make another tweet to close the scene with a summary!
the next scene will contain content that may be difficult for those sensitive to depictions of panic attacks, descriptions of vehicular trauma and kidnapping
my cw thread has been updated!
i will make another tweet to close the scene with a summary!
Dazai turns the key, hearing the engine rev before turning off again. He sighs as he leans forward to press his forehead against the wheel. His car was /fine/ yesterday so what /happened/?
He got a new battery a few months ago, he had the oil changed last week, he brought it in
He got a new battery a few months ago, he had the oil changed last week, he brought it in
for routine maintenance two months ago. There /shouldn’t/ be anything wrong.
He doesn’t have time to get it fixed now, so he pulls his phone out to tell Oda that he’ll be late.
He slides out of the car and slams the door shut, only to take a quick step back when he sees
He doesn’t have time to get it fixed now, so he pulls his phone out to tell Oda that he’ll be late.
He slides out of the car and slams the door shut, only to take a quick step back when he sees
familiar brown eyes and black hair.
/Sasaki/.
She’s smiling as she runs over to hug his arm and starts pulling him forward. He’s too stunning to do much more than resist a bit.
But then his eyes catch on the /car/ and the /driver/ in front of him and his stomach swoops.
/Sasaki/.
She’s smiling as she runs over to hug his arm and starts pulling him forward. He’s too stunning to do much more than resist a bit.
But then his eyes catch on the /car/ and the /driver/ in front of him and his stomach swoops.
He can’t even bring himself to feel /anger/ just yet for Sasaki tampering with his /car/ because the unbridled terror that he was /sure/ he was /over/ rushes through his body.
He fights down a shiver as he yanks his arm out of Sasaki’s grip. He steps back--stumbles, really.
He fights down a shiver as he yanks his arm out of Sasaki’s grip. He steps back--stumbles, really.
"What are you doing here?" he asks, trying to keep his tone steady as he balls shaking hands into fists. The car is blocking him in so even if his car was /working/ he would be /stuck/.
Sasaki pouts, reaching for him again. She furrows her brow when he takes another step back.
Sasaki pouts, reaching for him again. She furrows her brow when he takes another step back.
"What do you mean, /darling/?" she asks, following him. His heart is racing, but getting further from the car helps a /bit/.
Sasaki has never shown up to his /house/ before. Or damaged his property. This is bad.
"Don't start that, Sasaki-/san/," he says, putting more distance
Sasaki has never shown up to his /house/ before. Or damaged his property. This is bad.
"Don't start that, Sasaki-/san/," he says, putting more distance
between them. "You need to go. Now."
"But we're going to your meeting," she says, holding up her left hand. There's a gaudy ring there and he's slowly catching onto the lengths she's gone to for this.
But she doesn't /know/. Dazai watches as the driver steps out of the car.
"But we're going to your meeting," she says, holding up her left hand. There's a gaudy ring there and he's slowly catching onto the lengths she's gone to for this.
But she doesn't /know/. Dazai watches as the driver steps out of the car.
He looks them over skeptically, but just leans on the open door.
"If we don't leave soon, you'll be late, Tsushima-san."
Dazai shakes his head.
"I'm fine, it's not that important," he says easily. His throat is getting tighter as the driver sighs. And he probably doesn't
"If we don't leave soon, you'll be late, Tsushima-san."
Dazai shakes his head.
"I'm fine, it's not that important," he says easily. His throat is getting tighter as the driver sighs. And he probably doesn't
/mean/ to look so annoyed, but the expression has Dazai's heart stopping in his chest. Words flood his memory--words he was sure he'd forgotten.
//If you get in quietly, we won't hurt the kid.//
Sasaki reaches out again and her hand is like /fire/ on his skin. He flinches away,
//If you get in quietly, we won't hurt the kid.//
Sasaki reaches out again and her hand is like /fire/ on his skin. He flinches away,
but the heat doesn't leave. He doesn't even register the hurt expression on her face as his eyes dart between her and the driver.
//You don't want us to hurt your brother, right?//
His skin aches and he /swears/ he smells gasoline. It doesn't bother him anymore. At least, it
//You don't want us to hurt your brother, right?//
His skin aches and he /swears/ he smells gasoline. It doesn't bother him anymore. At least, it
❗️❗️ADDITIONAL TRIGGER WARNING❗️❗️
i neglected to include this but this scene will also discuss severe burns and broken bones & the medical procedures associated with them
this will all be included in the summary!
i neglected to include this but this scene will also discuss severe burns and broken bones & the medical procedures associated with them
this will all be included in the summary!
/didn't/ until now. Not like it used to.
"Let's /go/, Shuuji," Sasaki says and she sounds /far off/. A distant echo haunting him. "Just get in the car."
//Just get in the car before I change my mind.//
"Go away," he says, shaking his head. He's on fire, he knows he is.
"Let's /go/, Shuuji," Sasaki says and she sounds /far off/. A distant echo haunting him. "Just get in the car."
//Just get in the car before I change my mind.//
"Go away," he says, shaking his head. He's on fire, he knows he is.
He can smell it. He can /feel/ it. It's everywhere, eating him up, taking him apart again. He's /there/ again.
It's been so long and he's /right there/ again.
"Go /away/?" Sasaki asks, and she has the gall to sound angry about it. "I'm your /fiancé/!"
"No, you're /not/!"
It's been so long and he's /right there/ again.
"Go /away/?" Sasaki asks, and she has the gall to sound angry about it. "I'm your /fiancé/!"
"No, you're /not/!"
He shouts.
He doesn't know what his next words will do, but he can't bring himself to regret them in the moment. "You don't me! You're /obsessed/ with me but you /don't know me/. So just /leave me alone/!"
"Wh-what are you talking about?" she asks and her eyes are welling up.
He doesn't know what his next words will do, but he can't bring himself to regret them in the moment. "You don't me! You're /obsessed/ with me but you /don't know me/. So just /leave me alone/!"
"Wh-what are you talking about?" she asks and her eyes are welling up.
He knows they're fake. He knows she's doing this to manipulate him and he /doesn't care/. He needs to get out of here. He needs to leave. To /breathe/.
God, it feels like he hasn't taken a breath since he saw the car. Since he /remembered/.
//I'm losing my patience, kid.//
God, it feels like he hasn't taken a breath since he saw the car. Since he /remembered/.
//I'm losing my patience, kid.//
His lungs are tight as he tries to take a shuddering breath. It doesn't work and he tries to take another, deeper breath. /Fuck/.
"I love you!" Sasaki says and he shakes his head, hackles raised.
"Stop. Just /stop/ it." he snaps. He can feel the sweat on his back building.
"I love you!" Sasaki says and he shakes his head, hackles raised.
"Stop. Just /stop/ it." he snaps. He can feel the sweat on his back building.
"Why are you doing this to me?" she asks and Dazai feels molten terror buzzing through his veins, mixing with righteous anger as he shakes his head.
"I can't do this right now," he says, shoving his trembling fists in his pockets. "Do you know where I'm going?" he asks.
"I can't do this right now," he says, shoving his trembling fists in his pockets. "Do you know where I'm going?" he asks.
She's /still crying/ as she purses her lips and refuses to answer.
"Thought so," he says, walking past his car as quickly as possible.
She knew he would be /somewhere/ but this whole /mess/ was to figure out /where/.
"I could just follow you!" she blurts out. Dazai glares
"Thought so," he says, walking past his car as quickly as possible.
She knew he would be /somewhere/ but this whole /mess/ was to figure out /where/.
"I could just follow you!" she blurts out. Dazai glares
over his shoulder. It takes /everything/ in him to keep it together enough to do that. He needs to run away, he needs to /forget/ again.
"You won't like what happens if you do."
She /sobs/ and makes a /big show/ of it. The driver looks between them pensively.
/Run. Go. Now./
"You won't like what happens if you do."
She /sobs/ and makes a /big show/ of it. The driver looks between them pensively.
/Run. Go. Now./
"Um, I can still get you to your meeting--" he starts, but Dazai is already walking down the street, putting his hand up to stop him.
"I'll /walk/."
She doesn't follow him. She knows this time is /different/. That /this/ will have consequences. He wants to feel relieved.
"I'll /walk/."
She doesn't follow him. She knows this time is /different/. That /this/ will have consequences. He wants to feel relieved.
But no matter how fast or far he walks the flames follow. It hurts to move, to breathe, to /think/. He's swarmed with memories and pain and it just won't stop.
He hasn't reacted like this in /so long/. He was /positive/ that he was over it. That it was behind him. That the only
He hasn't reacted like this in /so long/. He was /positive/ that he was over it. That it was behind him. That the only
things left from it were the scars. And he spent a lot of time erasing those, too.
When he's far enough away, moving deeper into the city, he ducks into an alley and leans back against the wall, just trying to breathe.
The heat is subsiding, the smell of gasoline fading away.
When he's far enough away, moving deeper into the city, he ducks into an alley and leans back against the wall, just trying to breathe.
The heat is subsiding, the smell of gasoline fading away.
All that's left is the memory of the /pain/. The /aftermath/. Of waking up days later, all alone. Terrified and immobile.
And even then, just like now, the only thing he can think about, the only thing he can /worry/ about is his brother.
//Where's Atsushi?//
And even then, just like now, the only thing he can think about, the only thing he can /worry/ about is his brother.
//Where's Atsushi?//
❗️❗️END TRIGGER WARNING❗️❗️
Summary: Sasaki tampers with Dazai's car to stop it from starting. The car from the publishing house arrives and Dazai has a panic attack. Dazai remembers being kidnapped & being in a car accident and the injuries he sustained. He walks away.
Summary: Sasaki tampers with Dazai's car to stop it from starting. The car from the publishing house arrives and Dazai has a panic attack. Dazai remembers being kidnapped & being in a car accident and the injuries he sustained. He walks away.
Atsushi hums as he washes the dishes from dinner. He smiles as two slim arms wrap around his middle and a forehead presses against his back.
"I could have washed those," Ryuu says softly, muffled by Atsushi's shirt. Atsushi shrugs.
"You've been working late nights. It's fine!"
"I could have washed those," Ryuu says softly, muffled by Atsushi's shirt. Atsushi shrugs.
"You've been working late nights. It's fine!"
Ryuu grumbles against him, hugging him closer. Atsushi rolls his eyes.
"You were falling asleep into your food," he reasons. "You can wash the dishes after Ms. Christie leaves."
That has Ryuu groaning and leaning heavily against Atsushi's back.
"She can't leave soon /enough/."
"You were falling asleep into your food," he reasons. "You can wash the dishes after Ms. Christie leaves."
That has Ryuu groaning and leaning heavily against Atsushi's back.
"She can't leave soon /enough/."
Atsushi laughs softly, shaking his head.
"How long is she in Yokohama?"
"A /month/."
Atsushi frowns in sympathy before a little smirk turns the corner of his mouth.
"A month without doing the /dishes/? Are you gonna be alright?" he asks. Ryuu is silent for a long moment.
"How long is she in Yokohama?"
"A /month/."
Atsushi frowns in sympathy before a little smirk turns the corner of his mouth.
"A month without doing the /dishes/? Are you gonna be alright?" he asks. Ryuu is silent for a long moment.
Finally, he releases his hold on Atsushi to pinch his side lightly, causing the taller man to let out a startled laugh and jolt away. Suds and water splash on the ground, but they don't seem to notice.
"I /greatly/ respect Dazai-san," Ryuu says. Atsushi heaves a big sigh, about
"I /greatly/ respect Dazai-san," Ryuu says. Atsushi heaves a big sigh, about
to remind his boyfriend that he /really/ doesn't have to call his brother that anymore when Ryuu continues. "But I regret to admit that he has /corrupted/ you."
Atsushi pauses before laughing so hard he has to set down the dish and sponge, leaning heavily on the counter.
Atsushi pauses before laughing so hard he has to set down the dish and sponge, leaning heavily on the counter.
"/What/?" he asks between peals of laughter. Ryuu looks extremely unamused.
"That smirk is /all/ Dazai-san," Ryuu reasons, pointing at Atsushi's face.
"I've /always/ had this smirk," he says, tilting his head. Ryuu gestures at Atsushi's face again.
"None of that is fair,"
"That smirk is /all/ Dazai-san," Ryuu reasons, pointing at Atsushi's face.
"I've /always/ had this smirk," he says, tilting his head. Ryuu gestures at Atsushi's face again.
"None of that is fair,"
he says. "You can't be cute and evil at the same time."
Atsushi laughs again, stepping forward to cup Ryuu's face in his hands. He's clearly exhausted because he doesn't cringe at the suds on Atsushi's hands.
"You need to sleep," Atsushi says.
"I'm fine."
"You just said
Atsushi laughs again, stepping forward to cup Ryuu's face in his hands. He's clearly exhausted because he doesn't cringe at the suds on Atsushi's hands.
"You need to sleep," Atsushi says.
"I'm fine."
"You just said
that I can't be cute and /evil/ at the same time. You're exhausted."
Ryuu opens his mouth, probably to protest again, when Atsushi's phone rings on the counter. Atsushi frowns, turning away to grab it.
//Incoming call: Ranpo-san//
His eyebrows shoot up as he answers quickly.
Ryuu opens his mouth, probably to protest again, when Atsushi's phone rings on the counter. Atsushi frowns, turning away to grab it.
//Incoming call: Ranpo-san//
His eyebrows shoot up as he answers quickly.
"Ranpo-san? Did--?"
"Have you heard from Dazai?" he asks. Atsushi frowns, pulling his phone away from his ear to check. No texts. No missed calls.
"Um, no? I something wrong?"
"His stalker arranged for a car to pick him up for a meeting," Ranpo says. Atsushi's shoulders tense.
"Have you heard from Dazai?" he asks. Atsushi frowns, pulling his phone away from his ear to check. No texts. No missed calls.
"Um, no? I something wrong?"
"His stalker arranged for a car to pick him up for a meeting," Ranpo says. Atsushi's shoulders tense.
"His /what/?" Atsushi asks, mind racing. Ryuu watches him carefully as he starts to pace. "How did that even /happen/?"
"We don't have time for that," Ranpo says. "You need to figure out where he is. He isn't answering my calls."
Atsushi really wants to push the /stalker/
"We don't have time for that," Ranpo says. "You need to figure out where he is. He isn't answering my calls."
Atsushi really wants to push the /stalker/
issue because Dazai never mentioned /that/. But Ranpo's right and the bigger issue is if Dazai is /okay/.
Just then, his phone beeps and he pulls it away, feeling relief rush through him when he sees that Dazai is calling him.
"He's calling me now," Atsushi says. "I'll call
Just then, his phone beeps and he pulls it away, feeling relief rush through him when he sees that Dazai is calling him.
"He's calling me now," Atsushi says. "I'll call
you--" he stops when the line clicks. Ranpo hung up on him.
He sighs as he answers the incoming call quickly. "Osamu-nii?"
A shaky, relieved sigh greets him and Atsushi clutches his phone tightly.
"Atsushi, hey," he says. He sounds out of breath, or maybe like he's having
He sighs as he answers the incoming call quickly. "Osamu-nii?"
A shaky, relieved sigh greets him and Atsushi clutches his phone tightly.
"Atsushi, hey," he says. He sounds out of breath, or maybe like he's having
trouble getting a proper breath in. Either way. "Are you okay?"
Atsushi hasn't heard that question in /years/. Hasn't heard his brother sound like this /at all/ in so long that hearing it again makes his eyes water.
|| TEN YEARS AGO ||
Atsushi rubbed his eyes as he stepped
Atsushi hasn't heard that question in /years/. Hasn't heard his brother sound like this /at all/ in so long that hearing it again makes his eyes water.
|| TEN YEARS AGO ||
Atsushi rubbed his eyes as he stepped
out of his room to get a glass of water. Dazai used to put one on his nightstand every night when he went to sleep, but since he'd been gone Atsushi always woke up in the middle of the night reaching for it.
He padded down the hall only to pause when he heard whispered voices in
He padded down the hall only to pause when he heard whispered voices in
the living room. He peeked around the wall to see Mori and Fukuzawa sitting on the couch. Mori had his knees pulled up to his chest, leaning against Fukuzawa's chest.
Mori clutched his phone to his ear, nodding his head and closing his eyes.
"Yes, Atsushi's fine. He's asleep."
Mori clutched his phone to his ear, nodding his head and closing his eyes.
"Yes, Atsushi's fine. He's asleep."
Atsushi frowned. Someone was calling about /him/? It was so late, who would care about him at two in the morning?
Mori paused before humming. His voice was calm and soothing, but his eyes were sad. Sadder than Atsushi had seen them before.
"I'm sure," he said. "Tell me what
Mori paused before humming. His voice was calm and soothing, but his eyes were sad. Sadder than Atsushi had seen them before.
"I'm sure," he said. "Tell me what
happened."
Fukuzawa's hand gently rubbed up and down Mori's arm as he waited patiently for the person on the other line to speak. "You had the dream again?"
Fukuzawa's neutral expression cracked at that, turning his head to press his face against Mori's head.
Atsushi leaned
Fukuzawa's hand gently rubbed up and down Mori's arm as he waited patiently for the person on the other line to speak. "You had the dream again?"
Fukuzawa's neutral expression cracked at that, turning his head to press his face against Mori's head.
Atsushi leaned
in slightly further, curiosity piqued. Someone was talking to his dads about their /dream/? And what did that have to do with Atsushi at all?
Mori's eyebrows furrowed suddenly. "Osamu, don't say that about yourself."
Osamu? Why would his brother be calling so late?
"It's /not/
Mori's eyebrows furrowed suddenly. "Osamu, don't say that about yourself."
Osamu? Why would his brother be calling so late?
"It's /not/
true," Mori insisted.
Atsushi could hear faint buzzing, someone speaking in return. "Your scars don't make you--!"
Atsushi steps into the living room, drawing both his parents' attention.
"Atsushi, you should be asleep," Fukuzawa said gently. Atsushi frowned, looking to Mori.
Atsushi could hear faint buzzing, someone speaking in return. "Your scars don't make you--!"
Atsushi steps into the living room, drawing both his parents' attention.
"Atsushi, you should be asleep," Fukuzawa said gently. Atsushi frowned, looking to Mori.
"I was thirsty," he said. "Are you talking to Osamu-nii?"
Mori nodded once. Atsushi could hear the phone now.
/Is that Atsushi?/
"Get your water and go back to sleep," Mori said, but Atsushi was /eleven/. He wasn't a /baby/ anymore.
"I want to talk to him."
Mori glanced to
Mori nodded once. Atsushi could hear the phone now.
/Is that Atsushi?/
"Get your water and go back to sleep," Mori said, but Atsushi was /eleven/. He wasn't a /baby/ anymore.
"I want to talk to him."
Mori glanced to
Fukuzawa who looked pensive. He shrugged and Mori pursed his lips.
"I don't think that's a good idea, Atsushi."
"Why not?" he asked, bordering on petulant. Dazai hadn't called in a whole /week/ already.
/It's okay./
Despite that reassurance, Mori didn't look convinced.
"I don't think that's a good idea, Atsushi."
"Why not?" he asked, bordering on petulant. Dazai hadn't called in a whole /week/ already.
/It's okay./
Despite that reassurance, Mori didn't look convinced.
"We'll be quick!" Atsushi insisted. Mori looked like he was about to say no again, but a quiet 'please' on the phone had him relenting.
He held the phone out and Atsushi grabbed it eagerly.
"Osamu-nii!"
"Hey, Atsushi," he whispered back. His voice was rough and low.
He held the phone out and Atsushi grabbed it eagerly.
"Osamu-nii!"
"Hey, Atsushi," he whispered back. His voice was rough and low.
"Are you okay?" he asked. It was kind of weird, he usually asked /how/ Atsushi was. But Atsushi didn't understand what the question /meant/ back then.
He wouldn't know for another /year/ what those kinds of questions actually meant. What they /did/ for his brother.
"Yeah, I'm
He wouldn't know for another /year/ what those kinds of questions actually meant. What they /did/ for his brother.
"Yeah, I'm
fine!" Atsushi replied, moving to sit on the couch beside Mori. "Except I'm /really/ bad at dodgeball."
There's a heavy silence before Dazai huffs out a quiet laugh at that.
"You are?" he asks. Atsushi can hear shuffling on his side of the call, like he's getting into bed.
There's a heavy silence before Dazai huffs out a quiet laugh at that.
"You are?" he asks. Atsushi can hear shuffling on his side of the call, like he's getting into bed.
Atsushi nodded seriously. Dodgeball was serious business after all.
"Yeah, I get hit first /every time/."
"/Every/ time?" Dazai asked. He sounded /off/ but maybe he was just tired.
"Every time!" Atsushi insisted. "And I've been /trying/ to catch the ball, but it moves too
"Yeah, I get hit first /every time/."
"/Every/ time?" Dazai asked. He sounded /off/ but maybe he was just tired.
"Every time!" Atsushi insisted. "And I've been /trying/ to catch the ball, but it moves too
fast! I don't understand how they can throw it /so fast/, Nii-san."
"You're just not used to it yet," Dazai said. "You'll get the hang of it."
"How do you know?" Atsushi asked. "Are you, like, some super dodgeball player?"
Dazai scoffs, like the thought alone is ridiculous.
"You're just not used to it yet," Dazai said. "You'll get the hang of it."
"How do you know?" Atsushi asked. "Are you, like, some super dodgeball player?"
Dazai scoffs, like the thought alone is ridiculous.
"No," he said. He sounded /sad/ but Atsushi couldn't figure out /why/. He didn't think being bad at dodgeball would make Dazai /upset/. "I just believe in my little brother. That's all."
"You do?" Atsushi asked, leaning forward.
"Yeah," he whispered. "Of course I do."
"You do?" Atsushi asked, leaning forward.
"Yeah," he whispered. "Of course I do."
Atsushi preened at that, leaning to the side to snuggle against Mori's side, cradling the phone against his ear. Dazai's voice was so soothing.
"When are you coming home, Nii-san?"
"You weren't sick of me when I left?" Dazai asked with a fake laugh. Atsushi wrinkled his nose.
"When are you coming home, Nii-san?"
"You weren't sick of me when I left?" Dazai asked with a fake laugh. Atsushi wrinkled his nose.
"No," he said, pouting. "I miss you."
"Oh," Dazai whispered. Atsushi strained his ears because he was /sure/ it sounded like Dazai was sniffling or gasping or /something/. What did he do /wrong/?
"Nii-san?" he asked softly. Another soft, shuddering breath. "Are you okay?"
"Oh," Dazai whispered. Atsushi strained his ears because he was /sure/ it sounded like Dazai was sniffling or gasping or /something/. What did he do /wrong/?
"Nii-san?" he asked softly. Another soft, shuddering breath. "Are you okay?"
Mori gently pulled the phone from Atsushi's hold then.
"Osamu?"
Even then, Atsushi could hear him. Faint and tinny as his voice was.
/I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I couldn't--/
"Don't apologize," Mori said. "You didn't do anything wrong."
/Tell him I'm fine./ Dazai's voice pleaded.
"Osamu?"
Even then, Atsushi could hear him. Faint and tinny as his voice was.
/I'm sorry. I'm sorry, I couldn't--/
"Don't apologize," Mori said. "You didn't do anything wrong."
/Tell him I'm fine./ Dazai's voice pleaded.
/Tell him I'm sick. Tell him I'm okay./
"I will," Mori reassured him. He glanced down at Atsushi, seeing the wide-eyed fear there and knew that he heard anyway. "Do you want to talk to Yukichi?"
/I'm sorry./
Mori pressed his lips into a thin line and handed the phone to
"I will," Mori reassured him. He glanced down at Atsushi, seeing the wide-eyed fear there and knew that he heard anyway. "Do you want to talk to Yukichi?"
/I'm sorry./
Mori pressed his lips into a thin line and handed the phone to
Fukuzawa quickly, shaking his head. Mori scooped Atsushi up and off the couch.
"Let's get you to bed," he said.
"But Nii-san--!"
"Osamu is fine," Mori said, even though they both knew that wasn't true. Atsushi just didn't know /why/ it wasn't.
Atsushi could hear his father's
"Let's get you to bed," he said.
"But Nii-san--!"
"Osamu is fine," Mori said, even though they both knew that wasn't true. Atsushi just didn't know /why/ it wasn't.
Atsushi could hear his father's
voice fading away as he was carried down the hall, but couldn't make out what he was saying. "He's just...he's sick. That's all."
Sick had a lot of meanings and Atsushi didn't know just what kind he meant. But he /wanted/ to.
Mori tucked him into bed and ran his hand over
Sick had a lot of meanings and Atsushi didn't know just what kind he meant. But he /wanted/ to.
Mori tucked him into bed and ran his hand over
his hair gently. "Your brother is /strong/. He'll be okay. He just needs time."
Atsushi looked down at the covers, gripping his comforted tightly in little fists.
"Are you sure?"
"I am," Mori said. He didn't seem like he was lying. Atsushi nodded tentatively, then glanced at
Atsushi looked down at the covers, gripping his comforted tightly in little fists.
"Are you sure?"
"I am," Mori said. He didn't seem like he was lying. Atsushi nodded tentatively, then glanced at
his nightstand.
"Okay," he said. "I'm still thirsty."
Mori kissed his forehead before standing up.
"I'll get you some water," he said. He looked like he wanted to say something else. He didn't. Not then.
Atsushi fell asleep before he came back.
|| PRESENT ||
"Okay," he said. "I'm still thirsty."
Mori kissed his forehead before standing up.
"I'll get you some water," he said. He looked like he wanted to say something else. He didn't. Not then.
Atsushi fell asleep before he came back.
|| PRESENT ||
"Yeah, Nii-san," Atsushi says, wedging the phone between his ear and shoulder to dry his hands. "I'm with Ryuu."
"Oh." Dazai sounds so /relieved/ when he says it. "That's good."
Atsushi blazes through the apartment, keys jangling as he snatches them up. He shoves his wallet in
"Oh." Dazai sounds so /relieved/ when he says it. "That's good."
Atsushi blazes through the apartment, keys jangling as he snatches them up. He shoves his wallet in
his pocket before walking toward the front door.
"Where are you? I'm coming to find you."
"/No/!" Dazai says, like he's startled by the thought itself. Atsushi hesitates where he stands, looking down at his shoes. He could probably figure it out. Dazai never figured out how to
"Where are you? I'm coming to find you."
"/No/!" Dazai says, like he's startled by the thought itself. Atsushi hesitates where he stands, looking down at his shoes. He could probably figure it out. Dazai never figured out how to
turn his location off on Snapchat.
"Why not?" Atsushi asks instead.
"I'm fine," he says. Clearly a lie, but Atsushi waits. If he pushes /too/ hard he won't get anywhere. Too much pressure and Dazai will probably hang up and /actually/ make it impossible to track him down.
"Why not?" Atsushi asks instead.
"I'm fine," he says. Clearly a lie, but Atsushi waits. If he pushes /too/ hard he won't get anywhere. Too much pressure and Dazai will probably hang up and /actually/ make it impossible to track him down.
"I just had to make sure."
"What happened?" Atsushi sinks down beside his shoes. He can hear Ryuu meticulously cleaning the kitchen (and the dishes) behind him. Allowing them space for this conversation.
"She's never actually broken anything before," Dazai says. Atsushi's
"What happened?" Atsushi sinks down beside his shoes. He can hear Ryuu meticulously cleaning the kitchen (and the dishes) behind him. Allowing them space for this conversation.
"She's never actually broken anything before," Dazai says. Atsushi's
jaw clenches, biting back the desire to say something he shouldn't. Reveal information he /shouldn't have/. Patience is key. "I didn't think she knew where I /live/."
"Wait, go back," Atsushi says. "Who?"
"Sasaki," Dazai replies. His breathing is still just a /bit/ off.
"Wait, go back," Atsushi says. "Who?"
"Sasaki," Dazai replies. His breathing is still just a /bit/ off.
"She's just an obsessed fan."
"She sounds like a /stalker/, Nii-san."
Dazai doesn't respond, so Atsushi switches tactics. "What did she break?"
Evidence is key. They need to have as much as possible if they're going to stop this from happening again.
"She sounds like a /stalker/, Nii-san."
Dazai doesn't respond, so Atsushi switches tactics. "What did she break?"
Evidence is key. They need to have as much as possible if they're going to stop this from happening again.
"I don't know what she /did/, but my car wouldn't start." Dazai's breath hitches. Atsushi takes a steadying breath to keep himself calm. Being /angry/ won't help anyone.
"And she had a car come to--to pick me up," he says. He's starting to ramble now. "I'm meeting Osasaku today.
"And she had a car come to--to pick me up," he says. He's starting to ramble now. "I'm meeting Osasaku today.
And she...I just /remembered/. And I...sorry this is so /stupid/."
"It's not stupid," Atsushi insists. "You're hurting."
"I'm /fine/," Dazai snaps. "I /have/ to be. If I'm not then...then that's so /pathetic/."
"It's /not/," Atsushi snaps back. "You're allowed to be affected
"It's not stupid," Atsushi insists. "You're hurting."
"I'm /fine/," Dazai snaps. "I /have/ to be. If I'm not then...then that's so /pathetic/."
"It's /not/," Atsushi snaps back. "You're allowed to be affected
by trauma."
"It was /fifteen years ago/!"
"/So what/?" Atsushi asks, before sitting back and closing his eyes. He takes a calming breath. "There isn't an expiration date for that kind of thing."
"But I--"
"I still have nightmares sometimes," Atsushi admits softly.
"It was /fifteen years ago/!"
"/So what/?" Atsushi asks, before sitting back and closing his eyes. He takes a calming breath. "There isn't an expiration date for that kind of thing."
"But I--"
"I still have nightmares sometimes," Atsushi admits softly.
He pulls his knees up and rests his cheek against them. He hasn't even told his parents about them. It just became something he had to deal with.
But maybe Dazai just needs to know that he isn't /alone/.
"You...what?"
"I have nightmares."
"About what happened to me?"
But maybe Dazai just needs to know that he isn't /alone/.
"You...what?"
"I have nightmares."
"About what happened to me?"
Dazai's voice is getting steadier now. Protective at his core, as usual. Right now, Atsushi just hopes that it gives him a chance to catch his breath. So they can /address/ the issue.
"About watching you get in that car. About running home as fast as I could even though I didn't
"About watching you get in that car. About running home as fast as I could even though I didn't
really understand what was happening..." he trails off, trying to hold back his own emotions. He swallows hard. "I just wanted my big brother and you were /gone/ and it was /my fault/."
"Atsushi..."
"Because they were trying to get to /my/ dad. You were protecting /me/."
"Atsushi..."
"Because they were trying to get to /my/ dad. You were protecting /me/."
"That was my choice. None of that was your fault."
"But it /felt/ like it was," Atsushi says, wiping at his eyes to catch the gathering tears there. He sniffles, but continues. "And then when I saw you again afterward and you...I was /so/ scared."
"I remember when you came to
"But it /felt/ like it was," Atsushi says, wiping at his eyes to catch the gathering tears there. He sniffles, but continues. "And then when I saw you again afterward and you...I was /so/ scared."
"I remember when you came to
see me," Dazai says, tone tinged with bitter nostalgia. It's not a good memory for either of them. But it's theirs. "I was pretty delirious, but I /begged/ my dad to let you visit. Just to make sure you were really okay."
"You didn't believe them?"
"I thought they were lying
"You didn't believe them?"
"I thought they were lying
until I was healed enough to handle the truth."
Atsushi's free hand reaches down to tug on the laces of his shoes. Something to distract him from the swirling nausea in his gut.
Dazai never mentioned that before. They've talked about it a few times and that /never/ came up.
Atsushi's free hand reaches down to tug on the laces of his shoes. Something to distract him from the swirling nausea in his gut.
Dazai never mentioned that before. They've talked about it a few times and that /never/ came up.
He wipes his eyes on his sleeve again, forcing a little, pained smile.
"I almost jumped on you," he says. Dazai breathes out what is /probably/ a laugh. Progress is progress.
"Really?"
"Yeah," Atsushi laughs softly, too. "But dad caught me before I could. I didn't really /get/
"I almost jumped on you," he says. Dazai breathes out what is /probably/ a laugh. Progress is progress.
"Really?"
"Yeah," Atsushi laughs softly, too. "But dad caught me before I could. I didn't really /get/
what happened. And I was so excited to see you."
They both sit in the moment, letting the emotions settle. There's still so much pain there, lingering. Old wounds and scars that they just don't talk about.
Atsushi hears Dazai adjusting through the speaker and knows that the
They both sit in the moment, letting the emotions settle. There's still so much pain there, lingering. Old wounds and scars that they just don't talk about.
Atsushi hears Dazai adjusting through the speaker and knows that the
conversation is over. At least for now.
"So, how's Ryuu?" he asks. Atsushi lifts his head to lean back around the wall. Ryuu has his back to him, sleeves rolled up as he scrubs dishes.
"He's good," he says. "Tired, though. His new contract is...a bit /demanding/."
"So, how's Ryuu?" he asks. Atsushi lifts his head to lean back around the wall. Ryuu has his back to him, sleeves rolled up as he scrubs dishes.
"He's good," he says. "Tired, though. His new contract is...a bit /demanding/."
"Oh? Do tell," Dazai says, the teasing tone coming back. Atsushi shakes his head with a laugh.
"She's just the usual," he says. "Rich, British, keeps questionable company."
Dazai laughs.
"/I/ keep questionable company, too, you know."
Atsushi shrugs.
"You're rich, too.
"She's just the usual," he says. "Rich, British, keeps questionable company."
Dazai laughs.
"/I/ keep questionable company, too, you know."
Atsushi shrugs.
"You're rich, too.
That's two strikes."
Dazai just laughs. And it's kind of fake, but does sound like he sort of means it. And that's good enough for now. Atsushi leans back on one hand, looking up at the ceiling. "No more subject changes."
There's a weary sigh that crackles through the speaker.
Dazai just laughs. And it's kind of fake, but does sound like he sort of means it. And that's good enough for now. Atsushi leans back on one hand, looking up at the ceiling. "No more subject changes."
There's a weary sigh that crackles through the speaker.
"Yeah, alright," Dazai says. "I'll call dad."
"You have a meeting, right?" Atsushi asks, shifting to pull his shoes on. "I'll call him. Your car is at your place?"
"Yeah, in the driveway," Dazai says, but then quickly continues. "Wait, don't. I can just cancel my meeting."
"You have a meeting, right?" Atsushi asks, shifting to pull his shoes on. "I'll call him. Your car is at your place?"
"Yeah, in the driveway," Dazai says, but then quickly continues. "Wait, don't. I can just cancel my meeting."
"You haven't seen Oda in months," Atsushi says, standing up once his shoes are on. "And besides, she might still be there."
"What about you?"
"I'll be /fine/," Atsushi says. "I didn't spend all those years in judo for nothing."
Dazai is silent for a long moment. Clearly
"What about you?"
"I'll be /fine/," Atsushi says. "I didn't spend all those years in judo for nothing."
Dazai is silent for a long moment. Clearly
weighing whether or not arguing is worth it. "Let me do this for you."
"/Fine/," Dazai relents and Atsushi throws a 'bye, love you!' over his shoulder before stepping outside.
"Tell Oda that I said hi."
"You see him every week," Dazai says. "He teaches your seminar."
"/Fine/," Dazai relents and Atsushi throws a 'bye, love you!' over his shoulder before stepping outside.
"Tell Oda that I said hi."
"You see him every week," Dazai says. "He teaches your seminar."
"Then tell him that /dad/ said hi," Atsushi says. "Call me when you're done. I'll update you then. Okay?"
"/Please/ be careful."
"I will. I promise."
"Okay. I guess...I should go."
"Bye, Nii-san. Talk to you soon."
"Yeah. Bye, Atsushi."
The line clicks and Atsushi
"/Please/ be careful."
"I will. I promise."
"Okay. I guess...I should go."
"Bye, Nii-san. Talk to you soon."
"Yeah. Bye, Atsushi."
The line clicks and Atsushi
lets himself take a deep breath as he puts his phone in his pocket.
Then throws a punch at the wall. It doesn't make him feel better. Heat still buzzes beneath his skin.
He whips his phone back out to call Fukuzawa. If Sasaki /is/ still at Dazai's house she'll /regret it/.
__
Then throws a punch at the wall. It doesn't make him feel better. Heat still buzzes beneath his skin.
He whips his phone back out to call Fukuzawa. If Sasaki /is/ still at Dazai's house she'll /regret it/.
__
Dazai takes a slow breath leaning back against the wall and pulling his knees closer to his chest.
Despite what Atsushi says, he still feels like an idiot. His mind has slowed now, but he still feels phantom aches twist his body.
He just needs to /move/. If he walks to campus
Despite what Atsushi says, he still feels like an idiot. His mind has slowed now, but he still feels phantom aches twist his body.
He just needs to /move/. If he walks to campus
he'll have enough time to compose himself before he has to talk to Odasaku.
He'll push down the fear and anxiety and lingering desperation to just /run/ and never stop. And the desire to call his dad.
Mori would only blame himself and Dazai had seen /too many/ therapists to put
He'll push down the fear and anxiety and lingering desperation to just /run/ and never stop. And the desire to call his dad.
Mori would only blame himself and Dazai had seen /too many/ therapists to put
that on Mori /again/.
And Dazai wouldn't understand until he, himself, became a father exactly how much thoughts like that /hurt/.
That Dazai is so willing to hide his pain for the sake of not causing emotional/hurt/. Even when he's breaking apart.
He stands up, because
And Dazai wouldn't understand until he, himself, became a father exactly how much thoughts like that /hurt/.
That Dazai is so willing to hide his pain for the sake of not causing emotional/hurt/. Even when he's breaking apart.
He stands up, because
that's all he really /can/ do at this point. He stumbles slightly, as he gets his bearings and shoves his phone in his pocket.
He knows things are plenty of missed calls and texts and he just doesn't have the energy to address right now.
So he starts walking. As he gets closer
He knows things are plenty of missed calls and texts and he just doesn't have the energy to address right now.
So he starts walking. As he gets closer
The trees grow dense and he almost feels at ease. /Almost/. He can almost forget the aches and pain and the /memories/ when he hears something.
He pauses in his movements to wait around for the same noise, and it comes. A little sniffle. A muffled sob.
He stops midstep.
He pauses in his movements to wait around for the same noise, and it comes. A little sniffle. A muffled sob.
He stops midstep.
Cautiously, he peeks down a side street . He doesn't see anything at first, but another quiet sob draws his eyes /down/.
There, sitting huddled against the wall, is a little boy.
Dazai leans back to glance up and down the main road, but he doesn't see anyone that might be
There, sitting huddled against the wall, is a little boy.
Dazai leans back to glance up and down the main road, but he doesn't see anyone that might be
looking for a child.
He looks back at the boy and tentatively steps closer. He crouches down in front of him, not too close. Just enough to make his presence known.
The boy holds his knees tighter.
"Are you alright?" Dazai asks softly.
The boy's voice is muffled against his
He looks back at the boy and tentatively steps closer. He crouches down in front of him, not too close. Just enough to make his presence known.
The boy holds his knees tighter.
"Are you alright?" Dazai asks softly.
The boy's voice is muffled against his
jeans as he speaks, voice rough like he's been crying for a while. He doesn't look older than eight with messy black hair and dirt scuffing his pants.
"My mom told me not to talk to strangers."
Dazai presses his lips in a thin line. It's a common phrase, it shouldn't make him
"My mom told me not to talk to strangers."
Dazai presses his lips in a thin line. It's a common phrase, it shouldn't make him
anxious. Shouldn't make his chest tighten but his heart leaps into his throat as that voice comes back.
("My dad told me not to talk to strangers."
"Oh, don't worry. I already talked to your dad. Fukuzawa Yukichi, right? Now get in the car.")
Dazai takes a slow breath through
("My dad told me not to talk to strangers."
"Oh, don't worry. I already talked to your dad. Fukuzawa Yukichi, right? Now get in the car.")
Dazai takes a slow breath through
his nose. He's fine, he's safe, he's an /adult/. It /won't/ affect him right now.
He doesn't reach out, keeping his arms where they are. He could go look for the kid's parents, but he also doesn't want to leave him /alone/.
"Where is your mom?" he asks gently. The boy grips
He doesn't reach out, keeping his arms where they are. He could go look for the kid's parents, but he also doesn't want to leave him /alone/.
"Where is your mom?" he asks gently. The boy grips
his pants tightly in little fists, sniffling again.
"...I don't know."
That's a problem. But if there's one thing Oda won't get mad at him for doing, it's helping a lost kid.
"I'm Dazai," he says. "Where did you last see her?"
The boy looks up at him suspiciously.
"...I don't know."
That's a problem. But if there's one thing Oda won't get mad at him for doing, it's helping a lost kid.
"I'm Dazai," he says. "Where did you last see her?"
The boy looks up at him suspiciously.
He doesn't answer and Dazai sighs with a little smile. At least he knows not to just hand out information to any adult that asks.
He pulls out his phone, unlocking it and dialing 1-1-0 without pressing call. He turns the phone around, holding it out.
"Do you know what that
He pulls out his phone, unlocking it and dialing 1-1-0 without pressing call. He turns the phone around, holding it out.
"Do you know what that
number means?"
The boy looks at the phone reluctantly.
"It's for emergencies," he says. That's close enough, he supposes. Dazai nods, the phone out expectantly.
"I want to help you find your mom. Take this and if anything happens you can press call and ask for help."
The boy looks at the phone reluctantly.
"It's for emergencies," he says. That's close enough, he supposes. Dazai nods, the phone out expectantly.
"I want to help you find your mom. Take this and if anything happens you can press call and ask for help."
The boy hesitates, but eventually reaches out to take the phone and hold it gently.
"Are you sure that's okay?" he asks. Dazai smiles and nods. He stands up and steps back, gesturing toward the mouth of the alley.
"I'm sure. Where did you last see your mom?"
The boy looks up
"Are you sure that's okay?" he asks. Dazai smiles and nods. He stands up and steps back, gesturing toward the mouth of the alley.
"I'm sure. Where did you last see your mom?"
The boy looks up
at him, then back at the phone, then back to Dazai. With a puffed chest, he pulls himself to his feet, sniffing and rubbing the drying tears from his cheeks.
"We were at the campus to meet with my brother."
Dazai snaps his fingers as he slowly walks out of the alley and down
"We were at the campus to meet with my brother."
Dazai snaps his fingers as he slowly walks out of the alley and down
the street with the boy close behind.
"Yokohama University campus?" Dazai asks. The boy nods once, Dazai's phone held out in front of him. "I was heading that way anyway!"
"That sounds pretty creepy, Dazai-san," the boy says. Dazai nearly trips over his feet, turning to look
"Yokohama University campus?" Dazai asks. The boy nods once, Dazai's phone held out in front of him. "I was heading that way anyway!"
"That sounds pretty creepy, Dazai-san," the boy says. Dazai nearly trips over his feet, turning to look
down at the kid in shock.
"What do you mean?"
The boy shrugs, putting on a lot of bravado for a kid who can't be older than /eight/.
"It just seems pretty /convenient/."
"Do you even know what convenient /means/?" Dazai asks, exasperated but still smiling. The kid reminds
"What do you mean?"
The boy shrugs, putting on a lot of bravado for a kid who can't be older than /eight/.
"It just seems pretty /convenient/."
"Do you even know what convenient /means/?" Dazai asks, exasperated but still smiling. The kid reminds
him of Atsushi when he started to get /rebellious/. It wasn't a very /eventful/ phase, necessarily. But he did get an attitude that he uses against Dazai to this day.
The nods haughtily.
"Of /course/ I do. I have a fifth grade reading level, you know."
Dazai puts his hands
The nods haughtily.
"Of /course/ I do. I have a fifth grade reading level, you know."
Dazai puts his hands
up in surrender.
"A /fifth grade/ reading level?" he asks, whistling with wide eyes. "That /is/ impressive. I apologize."
"Apology accepted," he answers easily. He pouts his lips then, looking between the phone that's still unlocked and Dazai's face. "I'm Izumi."
"A /fifth grade/ reading level?" he asks, whistling with wide eyes. "That /is/ impressive. I apologize."
"Apology accepted," he answers easily. He pouts his lips then, looking between the phone that's still unlocked and Dazai's face. "I'm Izumi."
"It's nice to meet you Izumi," Dazai replies. "It's true, though. I really was going to the university to meet someone. Someone /very/ important."
Izumi seems to consider that for a second, tilting his head from side to side.
"Who's this important person?" he asks, like he
Izumi seems to consider that for a second, tilting his head from side to side.
"Who's this important person?" he asks, like he
would have any reason to know who the person even /is/."
"Just a friend. He works there and we haven't talked in a while."
Izumi hums, turning that over in his head before shrugging.
"That story is still pretty weak, Dazai-san."
"I don't know how to make the /truth/ any
"Just a friend. He works there and we haven't talked in a while."
Izumi hums, turning that over in his head before shrugging.
"That story is still pretty weak, Dazai-san."
"I don't know how to make the /truth/ any
stronger for you, Izumi-kun."
Izumi takes this as an excuse to try to /help/, apparently.
"What if you were meeting your /girlfriend/?" he asks. "I think that sounds much /more/ believable."
"Me having a /friend/ us unbelievable? You wound me."
Izumi doesn't seem to hear him.
Izumi takes this as an excuse to try to /help/, apparently.
"What if you were meeting your /girlfriend/?" he asks. "I think that sounds much /more/ believable."
"Me having a /friend/ us unbelievable? You wound me."
Izumi doesn't seem to hear him.
"Or maybe your kid! You're old, right?"
Well that was a punch /right/ in the gut. Dazai looks down at Izumi in horror and no small amount of hurt.
"Not /really/," he says. "And I don't have children."
"Then meeting your girlfriend will have to work."
Dazai still isn't sure
Well that was a punch /right/ in the gut. Dazai looks down at Izumi in horror and no small amount of hurt.
"Not /really/," he says. "And I don't have children."
"Then meeting your girlfriend will have to work."
Dazai still isn't sure
/what/ it has to work for, but at this point he's too afraid to ask. He nods with a half shrug.
"Right," he agrees, unsure of what else to /do/. Izumi seems /very/ pleased with himself walking beside Dazai. The campus is nearly upon them now. "Where were you going to meet your
"Right," he agrees, unsure of what else to /do/. Izumi seems /very/ pleased with himself walking beside Dazai. The campus is nearly upon them now. "Where were you going to meet your
brother?" he asks. Izumi hugs the phone a bit closer at that.
"In front of his dorm. But I don't know which one he lives in," he says. Dazai nods slowly.
"Alright. How about we find a campus security guard?" Dazai asks. "They can help you find your mom."
Izumi hums at that.
"In front of his dorm. But I don't know which one he lives in," he says. Dazai nods slowly.
"Alright. How about we find a campus security guard?" Dazai asks. "They can help you find your mom."
Izumi hums at that.
"That sounds fair," he says, like it took a lot of time for him to weight the options. Dazai doesn't say anything about it as they reach the edge of the campus.
They're halfway to the student help desk when movement out of the corner of his eye catching his attention.
They're halfway to the student help desk when movement out of the corner of his eye catching his attention.
He turns to see a /dog/. Some kind of shepherd mix, he thinks. And it's /barreling/ toward them. He can see the leash dragging behind it, but his main focus is on the /speed/.
Without thinking, and forgetting his /issue/ with dogs, Dazai pushes Izumi behind him, waiting for the
Without thinking, and forgetting his /issue/ with dogs, Dazai pushes Izumi behind him, waiting for the
inevitable /crash/ or /bite/ or /something/. Instead there's a tongue licking his hand. He blinks his eyes open with a frown.
The dog is sitting in front of him, very obedient for a dog he doesn't even /know/. His heart is still beating wildly, adrenaline flooding his veins.
The dog is sitting in front of him, very obedient for a dog he doesn't even /know/. His heart is still beating wildly, adrenaline flooding his veins.
And /that's/ when he hears it. That /voice/.
"Emi!"
Dazai looks up to see none other than Chuuya Nakahara jogging toward them, waving a hand. The way his hand move looks /odd/, but Dazai is /quickly/ distracted by his face.
Those blue eyes and red hair and /freckles/.
"Emi!"
Dazai looks up to see none other than Chuuya Nakahara jogging toward them, waving a hand. The way his hand move looks /odd/, but Dazai is /quickly/ distracted by his face.
Those blue eyes and red hair and /freckles/.
He's even more gorgeous than the last time he saw him. His hair is windswept, pulled up into a messy bun. He's dressed casually, but there are still more /chains/ than one typically expects. And heavy black boots to match.
He stops in front of Dazai, eyes focused on the /dog/.
He stops in front of Dazai, eyes focused on the /dog/.
"Don't /run off like that/," he chides, picking up the leash and scratching behind the dog's pointed ears. "That's not like you."
Izumi is /suspiciously/ silent behind Dazai, but he can feel that he's still there, at least. Dazai just can't take his eyes off of /Chuuya/.
Izumi is /suspiciously/ silent behind Dazai, but he can feel that he's still there, at least. Dazai just can't take his eyes off of /Chuuya/.
He really is desperate isn't he? He isn't even halfway through building up to courage to say something when Chuuya sighs. "Sorry, my grip slipped and she ran ahead. She doesn't usually..." he trails off when he looks up.
His eyes widen when he sees Dazai, blinking slowly.
His eyes widen when he sees Dazai, blinking slowly.
It's scorching under than gaze. Dazai wants to be under it /more/. Wants to feel this /rush/ more.
Chuuya's eyes glance from Dazai to Izumi, and back to Dazai. "Oh," he says softly. "Hi."
Dazai knows he needs to /say/ something. It would be /weird/ otherwise. But...
"Uh. Hey."
Chuuya's eyes glance from Dazai to Izumi, and back to Dazai. "Oh," he says softly. "Hi."
Dazai knows he needs to /say/ something. It would be /weird/ otherwise. But...
"Uh. Hey."
It's like every suave and cool cell in his body disappears the moment those deep blue eyes look at him.
(Fyodor, if he were there, would remind him that he is neither suave nor cool /ever/. But he /isn't/ there. Luckily.)
Chuuya stands up, hand holding tight to the leash now.
(Fyodor, if he were there, would remind him that he is neither suave nor cool /ever/. But he /isn't/ there. Luckily.)
Chuuya stands up, hand holding tight to the leash now.
"Is that your son?" he asks.
And isn't that just a punch to the gut? Dazai looks down to Izumi, who looks back up at him with a terrible, awful gleam in his eyes.
Does Dazai /look/ old enough to have an eight year old? He isn't sure if he can go on with information like that.
And isn't that just a punch to the gut? Dazai looks down to Izumi, who looks back up at him with a terrible, awful gleam in his eyes.
Does Dazai /look/ old enough to have an eight year old? He isn't sure if he can go on with information like that.
He opens his mouth to respond when Izumi steps out from behind him to look Chuuya up and down.
"Who's asking?" he asks, gaining a surprising amount of /bravado/ than he had a while ago. "Are you his boyfriend?"
He's stunned silent for a moment just looking at Chuuya. He lifts
"Who's asking?" he asks, gaining a surprising amount of /bravado/ than he had a while ago. "Are you his boyfriend?"
He's stunned silent for a moment just looking at Chuuya. He lifts
a perfectly sculpted eyebrow and Dazai is jolted back into reality, looking down to glare at the top of Izumi's head.
"/Izumi/!" he scolds. The boy waves him off, looking at Chuuya expectantly. Chuuya looks between Izumi and Dazai before laughing softly.
"No. I'm not his
"/Izumi/!" he scolds. The boy waves him off, looking at Chuuya expectantly. Chuuya looks between Izumi and Dazai before laughing softly.
"No. I'm not his
boyfriend. Your dad's all yours." He looks up to give Dazai a little smile.
Dazai wants to disappear. He wants a black hole to open up beneath him and swallow him up. The man he hasn't stopped thinking about for /weeks/ thinks he's a /dad/ and that his kid is a /little shit/.
Dazai wants to disappear. He wants a black hole to open up beneath him and swallow him up. The man he hasn't stopped thinking about for /weeks/ thinks he's a /dad/ and that his kid is a /little shit/.
He's going to say something /again/. To try to correct the mistake when Izumi charges ahead and Dazai resists the urge to drag a hand over his face.
"Well, he doesn't /have/ to be," Izumi says slyly. "My /dad/ is really /lonely/, y'know. And you're pretty. You should date him."
"Well, he doesn't /have/ to be," Izumi says slyly. "My /dad/ is really /lonely/, y'know. And you're pretty. You should date him."
Great. His wingman is an eight year old with no boundaries. This conversation is running away from him so quickly and he just looks at Chuuya.
This is his first mistake. Because Chuuya is so breathtaking he gets tongue tied. God, he's a /disaster/. Why did he think he could pull
This is his first mistake. Because Chuuya is so breathtaking he gets tongue tied. God, he's a /disaster/. Why did he think he could pull
this off again? No, stop. He can't think like that. He's flirted with women most of his life. How can an exceptionally beautiful man be all that different?
His second mistake is letting the conversation continue.
Chuuya is trying to process what this kid just /said/ to him.
His second mistake is letting the conversation continue.
Chuuya is trying to process what this kid just /said/ to him.
Admittedly it /is/ pretty cute. Dazai seems too stunned to answer, so Chuuya kneels down again to be closer to Izumi's level.
"You don't even know me, why would you want me to date your dad?"
"I have a sense for these things," Izumi tells him. Chuuya pretends to think it over.
"You don't even know me, why would you want me to date your dad?"
"I have a sense for these things," Izumi tells him. Chuuya pretends to think it over.
When he /met/ him, Dazai really didn't seem like the fatherly type. But this kid seems pretty well-adjusted. If a little /forward/.
But if he's propositioning strangers to date his dad, it must mean that Dazai is a single parent. Maybe he misjudged the guy.
"I'm sorry, Izumi,
But if he's propositioning strangers to date his dad, it must mean that Dazai is a single parent. Maybe he misjudged the guy.
"I'm sorry, Izumi,
but I can't date your dad right now. I'm sure he'll find someone great, though."
The kid doesn't seem /too/ disappointed, but he does lean in conspiratorially.
"Is it because he's old?" he asks. It's not a very good whisper if Dazai's offended noise means anything.
The kid doesn't seem /too/ disappointed, but he does lean in conspiratorially.
"Is it because he's old?" he asks. It's not a very good whisper if Dazai's offended noise means anything.
Chuuya laughs anyway, shaking his head.
"No, that's not why," Chuuya says. Dazai huffs.
"I'm not /old/, Izumi," he mutters. "I'm 31," he says to Chuuya, desperately trying to repair the damage to his pride. Quick math in his head makes him realize that he actually /is/ old
"No, that's not why," Chuuya says. Dazai huffs.
"I'm not /old/, Izumi," he mutters. "I'm 31," he says to Chuuya, desperately trying to repair the damage to his pride. Quick math in his head makes him realize that he actually /is/ old
enough to have an eight year old, though. And before the realization can sink in he pushes it aside.
Existential crises are for when he isn't standing in front of the most beautiful person he's ever met. He clears his throat. "I don't have kids," he continues. Chuuya looks down
Existential crises are for when he isn't standing in front of the most beautiful person he's ever met. He clears his throat. "I don't have kids," he continues. Chuuya looks down
to Izumi, then back up to him. Dazai sighs.
"Hey, you're blowing our cover!" Izumi hisses at him and Dazai rolls his eyes.
"He's lost," he says. "I'm taking him to the campus police. He last saw his mom by the dorms."
"Hey, you're blowing our cover!" Izumi hisses at him and Dazai rolls his eyes.
"He's lost," he says. "I'm taking him to the campus police. He last saw his mom by the dorms."
Chuuya blinks slowly before hiding a laugh behind his fist. It's /funny/. But at the same time...it still shows him a different side to Dazai.
Not everyone would go out of their way to take a lost kid somewhere safe. And the kid seems to /like/ him, too.
It's...really cute.
Not everyone would go out of their way to take a lost kid somewhere safe. And the kid seems to /like/ him, too.
It's...really cute.
"I see," he says, smiling softly. Emi whines beside him, getting antsy. Chuuya reaches down to pat her head. "That's really nice of you."
Dazai turns his head to the side looking /bashful/.
"I was coming this way anyway. It's nothing."
Chuuya shrugs, gesturing to Izumi.
Dazai turns his head to the side looking /bashful/.
"I was coming this way anyway. It's nothing."
Chuuya shrugs, gesturing to Izumi.
"Not to him."
Dazai smiles as he turns back. And he looks /really/ good when he smiles. Messy brown hair and gentle brown eyes. It's mesmerizing.
Chuuya doesn't even realize that they haven't /spoken/ in a while until he catches himself /staring/.
But before he can force the
Dazai smiles as he turns back. And he looks /really/ good when he smiles. Messy brown hair and gentle brown eyes. It's mesmerizing.
Chuuya doesn't even realize that they haven't /spoken/ in a while until he catches himself /staring/.
But before he can force the
weird, /unwelcome/ feelings down and lock them away, there's a voice calling him. The relief floods him immediately.
"Chuuya!" Shirase calls out, jogging toward them with two drinks in his hands. He hands Chuuya his smoothie with a kiss to his cheek. Chuuya leans into the touch.
"Chuuya!" Shirase calls out, jogging toward them with two drinks in his hands. He hands Chuuya his smoothie with a kiss to his cheek. Chuuya leans into the touch.
"Hey, lamb. I couldn't find you," he says. Chuuya nods, grimacing. The ache in his wrist hasn't /faded/, but he has a better grip now.
"Sorry, yeah. Emi ran off," he says. Shirase's eyebrows immediately go up.
"You chased after her? Chuuya, you /know/ you can't--!"
"Sorry, yeah. Emi ran off," he says. Shirase's eyebrows immediately go up.
"You chased after her? Chuuya, you /know/ you can't--!"
Chuuya huffs, leaning away from him.
"I'm /fine/, alright?" he snaps. Shirase doesn't look convinced, but he doesn't say anything else about it.
Dazai is silent as his plans shatter before him. Not only is Chuuya clearly in a committed relationship—they have a /dog/ together—
"I'm /fine/, alright?" he snaps. Shirase doesn't look convinced, but he doesn't say anything else about it.
Dazai is silent as his plans shatter before him. Not only is Chuuya clearly in a committed relationship—they have a /dog/ together—
but he still has to pretend to be a student /knowing that/.
He /also/ now has to have Fyodor's book as his profile picture for /months/ because he takes Ranpo's advice as a challenge half the time instead of a /warning/.
Shirase turns to him.
"So, who's this, Chuuya?"
He /also/ now has to have Fyodor's book as his profile picture for /months/ because he takes Ranpo's advice as a challenge half the time instead of a /warning/.
Shirase turns to him.
"So, who's this, Chuuya?"
Chuuya turns back to Dazai like he'd forgotten he was there. It's a little hurtful, but at this point there's so little of his pride left that he barely feels it.
He wants to go back to when Chuuya thought he had a son. What a simpler time five minutes ago way. He harkens back.
He wants to go back to when Chuuya thought he had a son. What a simpler time five minutes ago way. He harkens back.
"Dazai's an incoming grad student," Chuuya says. "He's Atsushi's older brother."
Shirase drapes a casual arm around Chuuya's waist as he nods.
"Oh, that's cool," he says. He also looks eerily familiar, but Dazai can't place it. "Cute kid."
Dazai sighs, exhausted.
"Thanks."
Shirase drapes a casual arm around Chuuya's waist as he nods.
"Oh, that's cool," he says. He also looks eerily familiar, but Dazai can't place it. "Cute kid."
Dazai sighs, exhausted.
"Thanks."
Chuuya seems like he's going to correct him, but Shirase turns and smiles softly.
"We should get going, lamb."
Chuuya grimaces when Emi tugs on her leash and nods. He should rest. Even though he /hates/ resting. But he also /knows/ that it's the only thing that will help.
"We should get going, lamb."
Chuuya grimaces when Emi tugs on her leash and nods. He should rest. Even though he /hates/ resting. But he also /knows/ that it's the only thing that will help.
"See you around the department, Dazai," he says. "Bye, Izumi."
Izumi waves as they start to walk away.
"Let me know if you change your mind!" he shouts. Dazai gently nudges him away, walking toward the center of campus.
"I'm not a /homewrecker/, Izumi," he hisses.
Izumi waves as they start to walk away.
"Let me know if you change your mind!" he shouts. Dazai gently nudges him away, walking toward the center of campus.
"I'm not a /homewrecker/, Izumi," he hisses.
"What's a homewrecker?" he asks. Dazai hangs his head.
"Don't worry about it. Let's just go find your mom."
Izumi pouts, crossing his arms.
"But you like him," he says. "You should try to date him."
"He seemed perfectly happy with his boyfriend," he says, shoulders dropping.
"Don't worry about it. Let's just go find your mom."
Izumi pouts, crossing his arms.
"But you like him," he says. "You should try to date him."
"He seemed perfectly happy with his boyfriend," he says, shoulders dropping.
"Not to /me/," Izumi insists. "He was /looking/ at you. Like a /lot/. But when that other guy showed up he looked kinda sad."
"Relationships have rough patches," Dazai says. "Besides, /looking/ at someone doesn't /mean/ anything."
"I think you're just in denial."
"Relationships have rough patches," Dazai says. "Besides, /looking/ at someone doesn't /mean/ anything."
"I think you're just in denial."
"Do you even know what that means?"
Izumi looks up at him, clearly offended.
"/Fifth grade reading level/, remember?"
Dazai rolls his eyes.
"How could I forget?"
"Must be from old age," Izumi replies much too quickly.
"Why am I helping you, again?"
"I'm cute and helpless."
Izumi looks up at him, clearly offended.
"/Fifth grade reading level/, remember?"
Dazai rolls his eyes.
"How could I forget?"
"Must be from old age," Izumi replies much too quickly.
"Why am I helping you, again?"
"I'm cute and helpless."
"Right, of course," Dazai says. "Either way. Adult relationships are.../complicated/."
"What's complicated about liking someone?"
"Well.../nothing/. It's not liking someone that complicates things it's...being together. It can be.../difficult/."
"Difficult how?"
"What's complicated about liking someone?"
"Well.../nothing/. It's not liking someone that complicates things it's...being together. It can be.../difficult/."
"Difficult how?"
"Well...sometimes people fall out of love," Dazai says softly. Mori's face appears in his mind for a moment and he shakes his head.
Mori is /happy/ now.
"How do you fall /out/ of love?" Izumi asks, seeming to sense Dazai's somber tone and matching it.
"It just happens."
Mori is /happy/ now.
"How do you fall /out/ of love?" Izumi asks, seeming to sense Dazai's somber tone and matching it.
"It just happens."
Izumi stares at him, waiting for a further explanation. Dazai tilts his head to the side. "Sometimes you just become different people and you're not compatible anymore. It can happen for a lot of reasons."
"So you're scared he would fall out of love with you?"
Dazai blinks.
"So you're scared he would fall out of love with you?"
Dazai blinks.
That wasn't where he was /going/ with this but now his deepest insecurities are surfacing again. Izumi waves his hands around. "That seems like a pretty bad reason to not like someone."
"What do you mean?"
"You'll never /know/ until you try. That's what my mom always says."
"What do you mean?"
"You'll never /know/ until you try. That's what my mom always says."
"I'm sure your mom is a /very/ smart lady, but I'm not taking dating advice from an eight year old."
"I'm just /saying/."
Dazai is /not/ thinking about trying to break Chuuya up with his boyfriend. He's /not/. Because he doesn't even /know/ Chuuya. That would be /ridiculous/.
"I'm just /saying/."
Dazai is /not/ thinking about trying to break Chuuya up with his boyfriend. He's /not/. Because he doesn't even /know/ Chuuya. That would be /ridiculous/.
He's doing the university thing for /self preservation/ now. He's /not/ pursuing a grad student who already has a boyfriend.
Thankfully, the office building comes into view and he can see a campus officer talking to a frantic woman outside. Izumi lights up, picking up his pace.
Thankfully, the office building comes into view and he can see a campus officer talking to a frantic woman outside. Izumi lights up, picking up his pace.
"Mommy!" he calls out. The woman /whips/ her head around and rushes over, collecting Izumi in her arms and crying into his hair.
"/There/ you are!" she gasps.
Maybe it's because the memories are so close to the surface, or maybe it's just the /words/ but Dazai is /frozen/.
"/There/ you are!" she gasps.
Maybe it's because the memories are so close to the surface, or maybe it's just the /words/ but Dazai is /frozen/.
TW // the next scene takes place in a hospital and will contain descriptions of a car accident.
I will put a note when the scene is over!
I will put a note when the scene is over!
|| SIXTEEN YEARS AGO ||
Everything /hurts/. It's just pain and nothingness. He doesn't know where he is but it /hurts/ and he's /scared/.
A gentle touch on his head drags him from the darkness, though. A soft humming in his ear. It sounds familiar. Like /home/. He chases it.
Everything /hurts/. It's just pain and nothingness. He doesn't know where he is but it /hurts/ and he's /scared/.
A gentle touch on his head drags him from the darkness, though. A soft humming in his ear. It sounds familiar. Like /home/. He chases it.
He finds consciousness with a pained gasp. He's not just /floating/ anymore. He can /feel/ his body. The hands running through his hair stop.
"Osamu?"
That's Mori's voice. He can hear the heart monitor speed up and Mori's fingers run through his hair again. "Are you awake?"
"Osamu?"
That's Mori's voice. He can hear the heart monitor speed up and Mori's fingers run through his hair again. "Are you awake?"
As awareness comes to him, he feels a tube in his mouth and fights the urge to cough. It's /hard/ but he finally gets his eyes to open. They dart around the dimly lit room and land on Mori beside him.
Mori looks like a /wreck/. His hair is up in a messy ponytail. He looks like
Mori looks like a /wreck/. His hair is up in a messy ponytail. He looks like
he hasn't slept in /days/. His eyes are red, like he's been crying. And his clothes are rumpled. But when he sees Dazai eyes, when he sees that he's /awake/ he /smiles/.
He's crying again as he leans in, fingers caressing his son's hair like he's been given the best gift /ever/.
He's crying again as he leans in, fingers caressing his son's hair like he's been given the best gift /ever/.
"/There/ you are," he whispers, breath hitching. "You're /here/."
Dazai looks at Mori for a long moment before it actually /dawns/ on him. He's /safe/. His dad is /here/ and he's /alive/. He /made it/.
Mori looks up to meet his eyes again and it's /too much/. Dazai can't even
Dazai looks at Mori for a long moment before it actually /dawns/ on him. He's /safe/. His dad is /here/ and he's /alive/. He /made it/.
Mori looks up to meet his eyes again and it's /too much/. Dazai can't even
/speak/. He tries to put all the emotions he can in his /eyes/ because his face isn't cooperating either. Mori smooths down his hair. "You were in an accident. But you're safe now."
Right. /Right/. His heart monitor speeds up and Mori hushes him. "Atsushi's fine," he whispers.
Right. /Right/. His heart monitor speeds up and Mori hushes him. "Atsushi's fine," he whispers.
Dazai looks back to him, trying to /confirm/. Mori smiles softly. "You kept him safe, Osamu. It's okay now."
Dazai lets that sink in. That he's safe. That his dad is here and he's okay. He can't even /move/ and everything /hurts/ and he just wants a /hug/.
His eyes tear up.
Dazai lets that sink in. That he's safe. That his dad is here and he's okay. He can't even /move/ and everything /hurts/ and he just wants a /hug/.
His eyes tear up.
He looks at Mori desperately, tears spilling over and dripping down his face. "You're okay, love. You're /okay/."
He can't even nod. He just cries. It's frustration and relief and fear and it's all leaving him at once. Mori kisses the top of his head /so/ gently. Like he might
He can't even nod. He just cries. It's frustration and relief and fear and it's all leaving him at once. Mori kisses the top of his head /so/ gently. Like he might
shatter under too much pressure. Honestly, he /might/. "We missed you /so/ much."
They /missed him/. He did the right thing. He kept Atsushi safe and he's /alive/. But all he can do is cry /harder/ because what else /can/ he do?
He just /hopes/ that Mori can /see/ how he
They /missed him/. He did the right thing. He kept Atsushi safe and he's /alive/. But all he can do is cry /harder/ because what else /can/ he do?
He just /hopes/ that Mori can /see/ how he
feels. How /happy/ he is to see him. How much he /loves/ him.
Mori stands slowly. "I'll get Yukichi, he'll want--"
Dazai makes a guttural noise, jumping slightly as his heart monitor blares. Mori pauses. "He's just outside."
Dazai shakes his head as much as he can.
Mori stands slowly. "I'll get Yukichi, he'll want--"
Dazai makes a guttural noise, jumping slightly as his heart monitor blares. Mori pauses. "He's just outside."
Dazai shakes his head as much as he can.
It's not that he doesn't want to see Fukuzawa. But the thought of being /alone/ right now is terrifying. Of watching his dad /leave/.
Mori hums softly, sitting down and running his fingers through Dazai's hair again. "Okay. Okay. I'm not going anywhere."
Dazai leans into Mori's
Mori hums softly, sitting down and running his fingers through Dazai's hair again. "Okay. Okay. I'm not going anywhere."
Dazai leans into Mori's
hand. Seeking the only comfort he can have. Just a little longer, just until he feels /safe/.
Mori doesn't stand again. But he calls a nurse who comes to check on them. Once he's been checked over, Fukuzawa steps through the door. He's pale. His hair is up, too.
Mori doesn't stand again. But he calls a nurse who comes to check on them. Once he's been checked over, Fukuzawa steps through the door. He's pale. His hair is up, too.
It only takes a few steps for him to be at Dazai's side, standing beside Mori and looking down at the bed with more pain than Dazai expected.
He drops down kneel by the bed, breathing out a shaky sigh.
"I'm so sorry, Osamu."
Dazai can't figure out what he's apologizing /for/.
He drops down kneel by the bed, breathing out a shaky sigh.
"I'm so sorry, Osamu."
Dazai can't figure out what he's apologizing /for/.
"Yukichi, you didn't--"
"I didn't have to," Fukuzawa whispers back. They stay with him all night, even when he gets tired. Even when it's /hard/. Even when he /cries/ and has /nightmares/.
They stay. They make him /safe/. And he /clings/ to that. As long as he can.
"I didn't have to," Fukuzawa whispers back. They stay with him all night, even when he gets tired. Even when it's /hard/. Even when he /cries/ and has /nightmares/.
They stay. They make him /safe/. And he /clings/ to that. As long as he can.
END TW //
dazai wakes up in the hospital on a ventilator after a car accident and mori is there with him. mori reassures him. fukuzawa comes in later to apologize, but Dazai does not know why.
dazai wakes up in the hospital on a ventilator after a car accident and mori is there with him. mori reassures him. fukuzawa comes in later to apologize, but Dazai does not know why.
|| PRESENT ||
"--right over there!" Izumi's voice yanks him back.
He'll call Mori when he's done talking to Odasaku. His entire body feels /cold/.
He looks up anyway to see Izumi pointing to him and leading his mother over. She looks at him cautiously. "This is Dazai! He
"--right over there!" Izumi's voice yanks him back.
He'll call Mori when he's done talking to Odasaku. His entire body feels /cold/.
He looks up anyway to see Izumi pointing to him and leading his mother over. She looks at him cautiously. "This is Dazai! He
helped me!"
Izumi's mother bows gratefully, still holding Izumi tight.
"Thank you so much!"
"Really, it's no trouble," Dazai says, shaking his head and holding his hands up. "I was already on my way to campus. It's nothing."
Izumi's mother bows gratefully, still holding Izumi tight.
"Thank you so much!"
"Really, it's no trouble," Dazai says, shaking his head and holding his hands up. "I was already on my way to campus. It's nothing."
• • •
Missing some Tweet in this thread? You can try to
force a refresh
