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In the last two months, everything was weird with Dazai. Well, weirder than normal.
It started with him moving out of the dorms for a solid month. One day, Kunikida came to yell at Dazai, who was late to work yet again, and burst down his door like he always did only to find the dorm empty. Of course, he was extremely annoyed that his partner was likely attempting another suicide or was out doing who knows what late into the night.
He got to the office, grumbling to himself about how Dazai had yet again ruined a perfect schedule before the day even started. An hour or so later, Dazai came waltzing through the doors, all smiles, and pleasantries on his tongue.
Kunikida restrained from strangling him on the spot, settling instead to just yell at him.
“Where were you this morning? Your dorm was empty!” He tapped his foot impatiently against the floor.
“Was Kunikida-kun worried about me?” Dazai gasped, throwing a hand over his heart. Kunikida felt his eye twitch.
He scoffed. “Of course not, now answer my question.”
The smile on Dazai’s face tightened ever so slightly before stretching widely. “Ah, well Kunikda-kun I’m actually not living in the dorms at the moment! No need to come barging into my dorm every morning!”
At this easy statement, Dazai suddenly had everyone in the office’s attention.
“Where are you staying, Dazai-san?” Atsushi asked. Kunikida was also curious. He couldn’t have his partner sleeping around or getting into trouble. Dazai dropped into his chair and spun in it lazily. “A beautiful woman has captivated me, Atsushi-kun. I’m staying with her. Maybe we will commit a double suicide together!”
He sounded excited. Kunikida sighed. Of course, he did.
“Is this ‘beautiful woman’ short, happen to have blue eyes—”
“Don’t ruin my fun, Ranpo-san,” Dazai pouted, although there was a dangerous gleam in his eyes, daring Ranpo to finish that sentence. Ranpo smirked knowingly and continued munching on his snacks.
And that was that.
Everyone hesitantly dropped the matter, knowing Dazai probably wouldn’t be with this woman for long anyway so there was no reason to worry. Except the weeks kept passing and Dazai had yet to move back into his dorm.
It made Kunikida… agitated for some reason. Likely because he couldn’t monitor the suicidal maniac and make sure he wasn’t actually just harassing a random woman. In the fourth week, Kunikda confronted him yet again at the office.
“We should meet this woman you are staying with. You’ve been with her for a month now, at least to our knowledge, maybe longer,” Kunikida insisted.
And again that big smile and unreadable eyes appeared on Dazai’s face. “Unfortunately, Kunikda-kun, that won’t be possible. You see she works nights and is very busy.”
Kunikida narrowed his eyes. Dazai kept the grin on his face. Would Kunikida fight the matter further? Not knowing things, especially when it came to his co-workers, drove him crazy. He pressed his lips into a firm line and sighed, letting it go for now.
He didn’t bring it up again, yet days later Dazai was moving back into the dorms.
“What happened to the woman?” Kunikda asked, standing at Dazai’s doorway. He came to offer his assistance in moving Dazai back into the dorms, but to his surprise, Dazai barely had any belongings to bring back. It was suspicious. If Dazai was gone for a month, without returning to the dorms presumably, considering no one had seen him, wouldn’t he at least have clothes to return with? Kunikda saw him walk in with nothing except for a small bag.
Dazai dramatically flopped onto his couch. “Unfortunately, we decided to part ways. She didn’t like the idea of a double suicide.”
“... right.”
“Was that all, Kunikida-kun? I’m exhausted and would like to get some rest.”
That smile was plastered on his face again. Kunikda rubbed his face tiredly and agreed, leaving his partner alone for the night. But he couldn’t ignore the nagging in the back of his mind itching to know more about this strange situation.
The next thing the agency noticed was how many phone calls Dazai was taking. And to add to that, they usually occurred around the same time every day. Twice a day, once in the mid-morning and once in the late afternoon.
Sometimes, Dazai looked happy to receive them, eyes soft as he clicked answer, and other times Dazai looked like he wanted nothing more than to burn the phone. Either way, he always answered the calls, which was unusual in itself.
Dazai was not a huge fan of receiving calls and often let his phone ring until it went to voicemail, something Kunikida had scolded him for multiple times for being rude. However, with these scheduled calls, Dazai would not miss a single one. If he wasn’t near his phone when the phone rang and it went to voicemail, someone in the office would let him know, and Dazai would hastily grab his phone and rush to answer it. Dazai did not do scrambling. Or anxious pacing as he waited for the other line to pick up then walking out of the room once it was answered.
Usually, Dazai took calls at his desk. They were usually quick, had information involving cases, and he didn’t care much about bothering his fellow co-workers. However, for his daily scheduled calls, he always left the room, coming back five to ten minutes later.
His co-workers, being the nosy detectives they were, burned with curiosity. One day, they got their wishes to hear a phone call when Dazai apparently didn’t step far enough from the door. They were disappointed to find it was quite boring.
“Hey, Chibi!”
Dazai sounded pretty happy to hear whoever was on the other side of the call.
“... mhm.”
“I did.”
“Not yet, I was planning on doing it when I got back to the dorms.”
“I will.”
“I know.”
“Yes, okay.”
And he hung up, leaving them with absolutely no answers. He came back through the office doors as if nothing had happened, as he always did when it came to these phone calls.
Dazai had always avoided the infirmary as if his soul depended on it. Yet Kunikida noticed him slipping in there once every other week to meet with Yosano. No one knew why, and Yosano refused to spill anything. Kunikida tried insisting that as Dazai’s partner he should know if there is something medically going on with him. She laughed, shoved her scalpel in his face, and sent him away. No one tried asking after that, fearing the same treatment. They all knew she wouldn’t give him pills in fear he would overdose, and he didn’t seem injured so they couldn’t figure out the reason.
Another addition to Dazai’s new schedule was a meeting with the President every Wednesday in the late afternoon. Dazai never looked happy to go to those. The entire morning leading up to it, he was fidgety, and either went quiet, working diligently which was another change or was extremely annoying and difficult to deal with.
Their meetings usually lasted about an hour and Dazai always looked exhausted afterward. Some days, he went home right after the meetings, saying nothing to his coworkers on the way out except a weak smile and small goodbye. On days he stayed, he was silent for the rest of the day and barely interacted when anyone, usually Atsushi, tried to poke him and get him cheery and lively as he usually was.
Come to think of it, Dazai had more somber days in the last two months than the agency had seen or at least could pick up on before. For the first month when he was supposedly living with a beautiful woman, he had more bad days than good.
He tried to smile and look like his usual perky, unbothered self, but the mask didn’t hold as well as usual. Everyone could tell he was tired and suffering. From what, they didn’t know. He constantly looked drained, sometimes resting his head on his desk or rubbing his eyes roughly as if that could get rid of the dark circles under them.
One day, about two weeks into the first month of Dazai’s changes, the President called Dazai into his office. After ten minutes or so after the door to the President’s office closed, Dazai came storming out, looking angrier than the agency members had ever seen him.
Fukuzawa trailed behind him calmy. “Dazai.”
Dazai froze. Everyone watched the showdown, tension thick in the air.
“Can we talk about this, please,” Fukuzawa asked softly as if dealing with a feral animal.
In a rare act of defiance against the President, Dazai scoffed and walked out the office door, slamming it behind him, before getting into a screaming match with someone presumably over the phone. They must have imagined it, but with how quiet the office was, all listening and still in shock over Dazai’s dark fury, they could’ve sworn there was a muffled sobbing from the other side of the door once all the arguing had died down.
Fukuzawa and Yosano exchanged a glance before Fukuzawa sighed and headed out the front door, closing it carefully behind him. Everyone in the office listened closely, straining to hear anything.
“Get back to work. Stop snooping,” Yosano snapped. They all scrambled to follow her orders, and she retreated to the infirmary. A half-hour later, Fukuzawa reentered the building and headed to his personal office, a sorrowful frown on his face.
Dazai didn’t come back into the office that day.
After that, the field assignments Dazai was allowed to work on drastically decreased. In the first month, he was barely doing any and the ex-mafioso was not pleased about it in the slightest.
Kunikida was sick of Dazai missing so much time and having time off from fieldwork when he rarely did paperwork. His partner was barely contributing or doing his job. One day he was complaining rather loudly about Dazai’s disappearances, when Ranpo cut in, voice serious and cool. “Do not criticize things you do not have any information on or understanding of, Kunikida-kun.”
Kunikida shut up after that.
Things got better during the second month. Dazai missed fewer days, was slowly allowed back on field missions, and looked healthier. The phone calls changed from twice a day to once a day. There were still days when Dazai would leave work and not come back to the dorms that night, which concerned everyone, but Dazai and Ranpo assured everyone that he was fine and safe.
By the end of the second month, things were almost completely back to normal. Dazai was back to his usual workload and teased Kunikida constantly, much to his dismay.
Which leads to their current predicament.
It started on a Sunday. It was random, not triggered by anything except bad luck and even worse timing.
Dazai had been sleeping over at Chuuya’s apartment and woke up feeling empty and numb. He curled in on himself and closed his eyes, trying to ignore the thoughts in his head. They whispered that he would be better off dead, persuaded him that he would only feel whole if he hurt himself, laughed in his ears, called him a burden. He took a shaky breath.
Who knows how long he sat there trapped in his mind before a calloused hand ran over his arm.
“Morning,” A rough, sleepy voice muttered behind him. Dazai’s breath hitched before he quickly attempted to even it out, trying to appear as if everything was fine. Because it was. He was fine . He was, he was, he was–
The bed shifted as Chuuya got onto his elbow so he could look over Dazai’s shoulder and see his face.
“You okay?” Chuuya asked. Dazai nodded quickly, too quickly to be genuine. He swallowed thickly as tears burned the back of his eyes. He refused to let them fall.
“You sure?”
Chuuya brushed his fingers through Dazai’s bangs and pushed them to the side so he had a better view of Dazai’s face. Of course, he couldn’t fool Chuuya. Chuuya knew him better than he knew himself. He didn’t deserve someone like Chuuya, someone kind and gentle who loved him and took care of him even though he was difficult and wasn’t even human . A single tear betrayed him at the thought, running down his face for his lover to see. The mafioso’s eyes softened in understanding.
“I’ll call the agency,” Chuuya kissed his shoulder and rolled off the bed. Dazai faintly heard him walk out of the room and on the phone with someone. Before he realized it, Chuuya was crouched in front of him on the side of the bed, chin resting against the mattress and one of his hands reaching out to hold Dazai’s.
“I called out for both of us.”
“I’m sorry.” His voice sounded detached and flat. Chuuya stood and pressed a kiss to Dazai’s cheek, letting Dazai know that it was okay and he wanted to be there.
“Come on, we’ve got to try to work through this,” Chuuya said. He grabbed one of Dazai’s hands and gently pulled, urging him to get out of bed. Dazai whined. They both knew this day would be unpleasant. All Dazai wanted to do was lay in bed and exist in a void outside life and outside reality. But Chuuya knew they had to get Dazai up and do some activities during the day if he had any chance of feeling better by the end of the day.
Something that had become a blessing and a curse was how hard it became for Dazai to hide his emotions around Chuuya. He was much more open with Chuuya now than he was when they were in the Port Mafia together and Chuuya was sure no one else saw this side of Dazai, the human side. Dazai didn’t try to hide his happiness, his anger, his sadness. Chuuya loved it and did not take Dazai’s trust for granted.
Except in moments like these.
He continued to try to force Dazai out of bed, but the younger man protested vehemently. He refused to help Chuuya in the slightest when the mafioso tugged his arm. Chuuya gave up quickly on trying to drag him out by force, realizing pulling Dazai’s arm would do nothing, instead, climbing back onto the bed and settling on Dazai’s lap. He leaned down to rest his forehead against Dazai’s and cupped his partner’s face in his hand, holding eye contact with him.
“Mackerel. I have to go away tomorrow. You know I’ll be on a week-long mission without any contact. I don’t want to leave you like this. If there is anything we can do to make you feel even a little better before I go, we should do it. Right?”
“I can’t believe my dog is leaving its owner’s side. What a bad boy I’ve trained,” Dazai mocked tauntingly. Chuuya refrained from smacking him. Dazai did this at the beginning of every depressive episode, trying to get under Chuuya’s skin so Chuuya would leave and let Dazai wallow or hurt himself. It never worked, yet Dazai always tried before he broke down completely. His instincts to hide himself from everyone kicking in despite Chuuya having already seen every part of him, good or bad.
Chuuya leaned forward so his lips were next to Dazai’s ear. “I know what you’re doing. I’m not going anywhere, you waste-of-bandages. Now get your ass out of bed.”
Dazai shuffled slightly underneath him. A wobbly exhale passed his lips.
“It’s hard,” he whispered.
Chuuya nodded sympathetically. “I know.”
He moved off Dazai’s lap and flopped next to his partner.
“How about ten more minutes in bed then we get up?” Chuuya bargained.
“Fine,” Dazai grumbled unhappily. He turned towards Chuuya and buried his face in the executive’s neck. Chuuya kissed Dazai’s head in a silent thanks and held him tight.
The ten minutes were over too soon for either of their likings.
“Alright, come on,” Chuuya said as he attempted to sit up. Dazai held him down.
“I’m sleeping,” Dazai whispered. Chuuya laughed lightly.
“Get up, Mackerel.”
He pushed Dazai’s arm off him, tumbled off the bed then stood by the side of it expectantly.
“You agreed to our deal,” Chuuya reminded him. Dazai ignored him, pulling the blankets further over himself. No way in hell Chuuya was going to let him do that. He grabbed the blanket and tugged it down to Dazai’s waist.
“Nope. Up we go.”
He put his hands under Dazai’s armpits and hauled him out of bed. Dazai protested weakly as Chuuya made him stand.
“Slug…”
“I think you should take a shower or bath. That will get you all clean and refreshed.”
He waited for Dazai’s response, but all he got was silence as Dazai tried to collect himself, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides before he melted down. Chuuya internally sighed. Clearly, he underestimated how bad today truly would be. Getting his idiot to do anything was going to be a battle. Chuuya stepped closer and ran his hand along Dazai’s back.
“If you take a bath, I’ll wash your hair,” Chuuya murmured.
“I don’t want to.”
Chuuya took a breath. “I know you don’t, but you need to get clean. Either shower or bath, it’s your choice.”
“… bath.”
Chuuya got on his tippy toes to press a kiss on Dazai’s cheek. “Thank you.”
Chuuya could practically feel how miserable Dazai was as he gently led him to the bathroom. Chuuya filled the bath with hot water and helped Dazai undress since the younger would take his sweet time and they’d be there for ages. Thankfully, his bandages were already off since he typically did not wear them at Chuuya’s apartment.
Dazai stepped into the bath and sank down, breathing slowly as he did. Chuuya pulled a stool next to the bath and watched Dazai with a close eye. The detective stared off, deep in the pits of his mind. Chuuya grabbed his hand and ran his thumb over Dazai’s skin, trying to ground his boyfriend back to the present.
“Hey.”
Dazai blinked a few times, coming back from wherever he was, and clenched his jaw tight, refusing to look at his lover. Chuuya was familiar with what that expression meant.
“It’s okay,” he said tenderly. Dazai sucked in a sharp breath, squeezing Chuuya’s hand tight.
“Stop,” Dazai whispered.
“I know it hurts,” Chuuya continued in the same light tone. He knew Dazai needed to release everything that was weighing him down. He used to take the edge off and found release by hurting himself, whether that be a suicide attempt, slitting his wrists, or getting drunk until he blacked out. Chuuya, of course, prevented that, so Dazai had no way to let everything go, except using healthy coping mechanisms which he hated. It was hard for him to be vulnerable, but deep inside he knew he didn’t have to hide from Chuuya. Dazai swallowed thickly and stared intently at the water in front of him.
“Not fair,” Dazai muttered, though it came out choked. He shook silently, bottom lip quivering and eyes filled with tears as he tried to hold any semblance of composure. Chuuya ran his free hand through Dazai’s hair.
“I’ve got you, sweetheart.”
At the rare pet name, Dazai broke, unable to hold it all in anymore. Quiet, heartbreaking sobs filled the room. Dazai had always been a quiet crier, probably something he picked up as an attempt to keep attention off him in his worst moments. He covered his face using his free hand as bone-rattling sobs shook his body.
Chuuya stayed silent, letting Dazai flush everything out of his system. He clutched Dazai’s hand between both of his and pressed his lips against it. Dazai held onto him like a lifeline.
The meltdown didn’t last long, they never did with Dazai, but it always left him physically and emotionally exhausted. Dazai pointedly made sure not to look at Chuuya when his tears ran dry, as if he thought Chuuya would be disgusted or angry with him. Chuuya did not comment on it, instead, released Dazai’s hand and grabbed the shampoo.
“Put your head back for me,” Chuuya murmured. Dazai obeyed, and the executive began scrubbing product into his hair. Dazai’s eyes fluttered close and he leaned into it, allowing his body to relax. The rest of the bath followed in a similar fashion thankfully. Chuuya’s movements were slow and gentle, and Dazai let Chuuya take care of him without complaint. When they were done, Chuuya set a towel on the edge of the bath.
“I’m gonna make us food, call me if you need anything,” Chuuya said as he stood.
Dazai nodded and Chuuya left the bathroom. He got to work cooking something light and easy for Dazai’s sensitive stomach. At some point, Dazai trudged into the dining room, wearing sweatpants and a big sweatshirt, and plopped himself into one of the chairs. His head dropped to rest on the table.
Chuuya was done moments later, and he brought the food to the table. Dazai, of course, did not look excited. He didn’t enjoy eating when he was feeling his best and avoided it like the plague when he was feeling bad. Dazai eyed the food warily. Chuuya got to eating his own food as Dazai pushed his own around the plate, not taking a bite. Halfway through his own plate, Chuuya unhappily noted that Dazai was stalling like usual.
“Dazai, you need to eat.”
The detective didn’t look up, but his grip on his chopsticks tightened ever so slightly. Chuuya’s gaze hardened.
“Osamu.”
Dazai's face contorted as emotions ran through his face, first furrowing in anger, then changing to annoyance, followed by his thoughtful face, thinking what he could do to get out of this, and finally resting on defeat.
“I can’t,” Dazai said, trying to seem blank and emotionless but Chuuya knew his every tell from the twitch of his lips to the slight raise of his eyebrow.
“Half the plate. If you eat half, I’ll stop bothering you.”
Dazai sighed and gave Chuuya a tight, apologetic smile before dropping his chopsticks and standing up. “I’m going back to bed.”
Chuuya grabbed Dazai’s wrist before he could walk off. Dazai tensed and his voice dropped dangerously.
“Let me go.”
“No.”
Dazai tried to glare at him but it came off desperate and pleading. Chuuya didn't waver.
“Sit your ass down before I make you.”
Dazai paused, contemplating his choices before deflating and listening to Chuuya. It was slightly concerning how he barely fought, but the mafioso knew Dazai didn’t have the energy to at the moment.
“A few bites,” Chuuya said sternly. Dazai looked at the plate with disdain. Chuuya watched him intensely, ignoring his own plate in favor of making sure Dazai ate. Dazai picked up a small bit of his food with his chopsticks and simply stared at it for a while. He glanced at Chuuya who only raised an eyebrow at him and gestured towards the food. Dazai huffed and reluctantly opened his mouth. He placed it in his mouth and swallowed, shivering unpleasantly as he did.
“Does that please my dog?” Dazai said cruelly.
“No. A few more bites,” Chuuya said, ignoring the jab.
“I hate you,” the detective seethed, venom dripping from his voice as he glared at his lover. Many would run from that tone, knowing it meant the demon prodigy was out for blood.
Chuuya leaned forward with an unbothered smile. “I bet you do, shithead. Now take another bite.”
They were at the table for nearly two hours, both trying to win this battle of wills. In the end, Chuuya managed to get Dazai to eat five bites. His boyfriend started looking actually sick as he gulped down the fifth bite, so Chuuya decided to let him be before he pushed him too far.
“Thank you, Dazai. I know you didn’t want to do that. You can be done now.”
“Thank you so much for your permission,” Dazai snapped before stomping to their bedroom and slamming the door behind him.
Chuuya rested his elbows on the table and rubbed at his eyes in exhaustion. He felt like he aged ten years in the last few hours. There was no way he could leave right now for a whole week when he could barely get Dazai to do little things to take care of himself. No chance in the world Dazai would do it by himself.
He pulled out his phone, ready to call off the mission when it suddenly rang in his hand. He raised an eyebrow at the contact name yet answered it.
“What do you want?”
“Mr. Fancy Hat! This is Ranpo from the Armed Detective Agency.”
“I’m aware, now what do you want? I'm busy.”
“Just wanted to call and tell you not to call off your mission.”
Chuuya ran a hand through his hair. “And how would you know that?”
“I know everything, Nakahara-kun,” he said smugly.
“... and why shouldn’t I call it off?”
“Because the agency can take care of Dazai for a week.”
Chuuya laughed. “I seriously doubt that.”
“Are you just planning to call off every mission or job you have for the rest of your career because your boyfriend is having a hard time?”
Chuuya gritted his teeth. “Fuck you.”
“You know I’m right.”
As much as it pained him to admit, Chuuya did.
“You have to keep a close eye on him, he’s not doing well right now,” Chuuya warned.
“We can manage that,” Ranpo said confidently.
Chuuya hated this with every fiber in his body. He did not trust the agency’s ability to take care of Dazai. They had no idea what they were signing up for.
“… fine.”
Chuuya hung up and pressed his palms against his eyes. This was going to be a fucking disaster. Chuuya bet Arahabaki would leave his body before the agency could do a decent job watching his boyfriend.
He put the food away and headed to their room to give Dazai the news. He pushed open the door and approached the bed.
“Can I lay with you?” He asked, knowing his presence may be unwelcome right now.
Dazai nodded slowly. Chuuya crawled into the bed and wrapped his arms around Dazai so they were close together. Dazai’s back was pressed to Chuuya’s chest since he was laying lower in the bed. Chuuya ran one of his hands up and down Dazai’s stomach and his partner hummed contently at the warm attention. The executive rested his face in the crook of Dazai’s neck, cherishing the quiet moment with his boyfriend safe in his arms.
“So, you know I have to go on my mission tomorrow.”
Dazai nodded.
“And you know it will be about a week-long and it’s a no-contact mission.”
Chuuya took a steady breath. “I am considering not going to stay with you but Ranpo called and said the agency would be there for you while I was gone.”
Dazai tensed. Chuuya turned Dazai’s slightly in his arms and grabbed his chin so Dazai had to look him in the eyes. “If you need me here, say the word and I will cancel the mission. You are more important to me than a mission.”
Dazai smiled, that sweet, fake smile that Chuuya hated. “I’ll be okay for a week, hatrack.”
“You’re sure?”
Dazai nodded again.
“If I go, you have to let the agency members look after you if you need help. Do you understand?”
Dazai rolled his eyes. “Chibi—“
“I’m serious, Osamu.”
“… I know. I will.”
“Good. I still want you to text me once a day, okay?” Chuuya said, hands absently tracing the scars on Dazai’s stomach. Dazai whined unhappily, “so many requirements.”
“Unfortunately, I’m very protective of what’s mine and won’t let them get hurt if I can prevent it.” He kissed Dazai’s neck. Dazai huffed but agreed to the terms. They laid together in peace, snuggling close, staying there for the rest of the day, and eventually falling asleep for the night.
They unwillingly got out of bed around six the next morning, giving Chuuya plenty of time until he had to report for his mission. Dazai had been worryingly silent the whole morning, but at least he was moving and getting ready without Chuuya having to nag him.
Small miracles.
They ate a quick breakfast, Dazai taking a single bite to please Chuuya, and headed to the dorms. The dorms were pretty quiet at this hour, no one quite getting ready for the day yet.
“You’re sure you’re gonna be okay?” Chuuya asked.
Dazai smiled faintly. “Chuuya worries too much.”
“I worry within good reason,” Chuuya argued. He pulled Dazai into a hug. “I’ll see you in a week, okay?”
Dazai hummed and leaned down to kiss his partner. “See you then.”
Chuuya looked Dazai up and down one last time before heading off. The second he left, Dazai’s eyes dulled and the smile on his face fell. He dragged himself to his room and closed the door behind him before collapsing on his bed.
The first day, no one thought anything of it when Dazai didn’t show up, assuming he was just skipping, as he sometimes did. Kunikida banged on his door, but no one responded. Dazai was probably away for the night and hadn’t come back, he reasoned with himself.
The second day, they were all a little more worried. Kunikida walked by the President’s office but stopped when he heard Ranpo, Yosano, and the President discussing something in hushed voices.
“I checked on him last night and ended up staying the night after patching up his arms,” Yosano said, fatigue evident in her voice. “I tried to get him to sleep but he couldn’t fall asleep. We were up for most of the night, but he barely acknowledged me. I couldn’t tell if it was dissociation or simply Dazai being stubborn.”
“I’ve brought him a few meals, even staying to eat with him, but he dismisses himself before taking a single bite. I fear he hasn’t eaten anything since he was in Nakahara's care,” the President added, uncertainty evident in his voice.
“How does Nakahara do it?” Ranpo groaned.
“It doesn’t matter how he does it. All that matters is that we do better,” the President said.
Kunikida left before the others could pick up on his eavesdropping. Anxiety settled deep in his gut.
On the third day, Dazai again didn’t show up. This time, Kunikida along with a hesitant Atsushi and Kyouka, forced their way into his dorm.
All the blinds were closed, covering the entire dorm in a layer of darkness. The trio had to squint to see anything. They made their way through the dorm, looking for any sign of the ex-mafioso. Finally, they entered the bedroom where they spotted a lump on the bed covered in blankets.
“... Dazai?” Kunikida said.
The lump didn’t respond. Atsushi and Kunikida crept closer to bed while Kyouka kept her distance. The only thing peeking out from the blankets was the crown of a brown-haired head.
“Dazai-san?”
“... please leave me alone,” the lump mumbled.
Kunikida pulled the blanket down so they could see Dazai’s face, ready to scold his partner for being rude but his breath caught in his throat. It wasn’t… this wasn’t anything they wanted to see. The mentor Atsushi looked up to. The partner Kunikida relied on and trusted. The person who had been in Kyouka’s shoes. A depressed, broken man. Someone who felt so far from everyone he didn’t even consider himself human.
His eyes were glazed over as he stared at the wall, duller than normal and lifeless. His skin paler than usual. His eyes were red and puffy with dark, prominent eye bags under them as if he hadn’t slept in days. Angry, red scratches peeked out from his neck bandages, fresh and tender. Kunikida also noticed that the bandages around his wrists were thicker than usual. He didn’t want to think about why.
Dazai didn’t look their way, didn’t even acknowledge their presence.
Kunikida froze, for once not knowing what to do. It felt… wrong to yell and scream at Dazai right now. Dazai couldn’t even muster the energy to look at them. Sure, the office had seen Dazai’s bad days, especially over the last two months, but never had personal experience with it. Now, in Dazai’s space, in his home , everything he always tried to hide behind a smile was revealed.
“Please,” came another broken plea. Kunikida barely saw his lips move. If he had been facing them or if they looked closer, they would’ve seen how glassy his eyes were and the tears building up.
Kunikida hesitated. Could they really leave him alone like this?
“We’ll bring you some food later,” Kunikida said, unsure of how else to handle this situation without pushing Dazai’s boundaries. Dazai didn’t respond. Didn’t move. Atsushi sent Kunikida a helpless look, reflecting how the older man was feeling.
He reached a hand out towards Dazai. Maybe to touch Dazai’s shoulder? Comfort him? But Kunikida stopped himself before he made contact. He doubted his touch would be welcome at a time like this. He knew how little Dazai actually trusted the agency members, and despite how well Dazai thinks he hid it, saw his aversion to touch and flinches when someone unexpectedly touched him, even a brush of the shoulders. He retracted his hand and clenched it tight at his side.
With one last look at Dazai, Kunikida ushered Atsushi and Kyouka out. He shut the front door behind them and the three stared at it then at each other. Kunikida cleared his throat. “I’m sure Dazai will be fine tomorrow. He just needs space.”
That night, Kunikida stopped by to drop off one of Dazai’s favorite crab dishes with the hopes it would be eaten or make Dazai feel better. When he opened the door, he was shocked to see Ranpo sitting on the couch next to Dazai, one arm draped around Dazai's shoulder and the other holding a drenched red towel tight against one of his forearms. Yosano was kneeling in front of the ex-mafioso and Kunikida's eyes widened when he spotted a long, deep cut running down Dazai's exposed arm, dripping blood. Dazai's head was pressed against Ranpo's neck, eyes clouded over and face void of anything at all. He flinched as Yosano cleaned his wounds with peroxide.
"Hold still," Yosano murmured as she kept a firm grip on Dazai's wrist so he couldn't jerk away. Both Yosano and Ranpo's faces were dreadfully serious. Yosano turned at the sound of the door creaking open, and her eyes sharpened when she saw Kunikida awkwardly standing at the door.
"Kunikida-kun, please wait outside. We will be done shortly," She said, leaving no room for argument. He nodded dumbly and walked out. He waited patiently in front of the door for thirty minutes before it was slowly opened for him by Yosano. He stepped in and Yosano walked from the door to the sink, presumably to wash the red off the utensils and knives in her hand. He opened his mouth then closed it.
The scene in front of him was drastically... less bloody than what he originally walked in on. Dazai’s head was in Ranpo's lap, eyes closed and breath even, while Ranpo was reading a book in one hand and petting Dazai’s hair with the other. A thin blanket was draped over the ex-mafioso. Ranpo looked up briefly at Kunikida then returned his attention to his book, an indifferent look on his face.
“Kunikida-kun, what brings you here?” Yosano asked in a hushed tone. “And please, try to keep your volume down, we just got him to sleep.”
Kunikida’s eyes drifted to Dazai again. He lifted the bag. “... I brought food.”
Yosano turned the sink off and took the bag from his hands. She gave him a small, strained smile. “Thank you, that was very kind.”
He nodded slightly. “Is he…?”
She sighed. “He’s having a hard time right now. We’re all doing our best to help him. Please, be patient with him.”
Kunikida felt like his heart was stuck in his throat. “... of course, Sensei. Is there anything I can do?”
“If there is, we’ll be sure to let you know,” Yosano said as she led him to the door. He nodded again, unsure of what else to do. Once he was outside, she gave him a polite goodbye and closed the door. He stood there for a moment, trying to process what he just experienced. The walk to his room was short but his mind was full of thoughts and bursting with questions. He reasoned with himself that Dazai would be fine. He was always fine. Surely, he would be back in the office tomorrow.
Yet, the next day Dazai didn’t show up again. Or so they thought. Atsushi walked through the office and to the President’s personal office to drop off some paperwork. He knocked on the door and waited a moment before entering.
“Fukuzawa-san, I have your–” His voice faltered when he saw his mentor laying on the small couch pushed to the side of the office, faced away from him and a blanket draped over his form, seemingly asleep.
“Do you have something for me, Atsushi-kun?” Fukuzawa said, bringing his attention away from Dazai.
“Um, yes!” He squeaked, shoving the files forward and onto the President’s desk.
“Thank you, Atsushi-kun. You may leave,” the President said, firmly yet politely.
“R-right.” He bowed his head and scurried out of the room. Fukuzawa pulled the files towards him. Once his footsteps retreated and slowly faded from earshot, a quiet voice brought Fukuzawa’s attention away from his work.
“Please let me go home,” Dazai murmured. His voice was recked and scratchy.
Fukuzawa looked at his employee, one he considered as his own child, with sadness. “You know I can’t do that, Dazai-kun.”
Dazai inhaled shakily, loud enough for the President to hear.
“Please.” His voice was so quiet the President could barely hear him. “I want to go home.”
Fukuzawa set his papers down and walked around his desk, pulling a chair next to the couch and sitting down. He set a gentle hand on Dazai’s head. “I know you do. I wish I could give you this, but we all want you to be safe and that means you can’t be alone right now.”
Dazai didn’t reply.
“Why don’t you try to rest? I’m sure you will feel better after you sleep,” Fukuzawa suggested.
Again, there was silence on Dazai’s end. Fukuzawa patted his head and adjusted the blanket over Dazai before settling back behind his desk. He did his work quietly although slower than usual. It was hard to focus when he knew one of his own was in pain and suffering. Yet there was nothing he could do to magically make this better.
Fukuzawa couldn’t help but feel like he had failed Dazai.
The next day, Friday, Dazai was still missing.
However, they did get a different visitor.
Around noon, Nakahara Chuuya, the feared mafia executive, came storming in. Sure the agency and mafia had a somewhat steady truce, but it still wasn’t common for one of their high-ranking members to come to the agency unannounced. They all tensed, seeing how furious the mafioso looked.
“N-Nakahara-san!” Atsushi yelped, nervousness present in his voice. Chuuya didn’t spare him a glance and instead stopped right in front of Ranpo’s desk. The detective looked up from his snacks with a smile.
“Mr. Fancy Hat. What a surprise!”
Ranpo didn’t sound surprised in the slightest.
“Is Dazai here?” He growled. Chuuya anxiously tapped his fingers on the desk as he waited for an answer.
“No, he’s at the dorms,” Ranpo replied easily.
“Ranpo-san!” Kunikida said uneasily. Why did Ranpo just give a member of their agency’s location to a mafioso without care?
“You told me you would take care of him while I was gone,” Chuuya said, voice so low the rest of the office couldn’t hear it. Ranpo cleared his throat, going for nonchalance but instead coming off uneasy. He pursed his lips.
“He was more… difficult than I anticipated,” Ranpo said.
Chuuya glared at Ranpo. “That’s not an excuse.”
Chuuya glanced around the office at everyone’s burning stares and grit his teeth. “Let’s continue this in the infirmary.”
He turned and quickly made his way back towards the infirmary, Ranpo sighed and followed. Ranpo closed the door behind him and shared a glance with Yosano.
“Start talking,” Chuuya demanded.
“Nakahara, we did everything in our power to help Dazai,” Yosano explained. “We brought him food, kept him company, gave him his medication, but he wouldn’t take us seriously and hardly listened to us.”
“Of course, he didn’t! He’s Dazai! Did you expect this to be easy? That he would roll over on his back and follow your every command? And he uses humor as a coping mechanism. How do you not know that by now? He does that to keep people away which clearly worked on you lot,” Chuuya burst. Yosano eyed him wearily.
“Nakahara, the three of us, Ranpo, the President, and I, were with him constantly. I don’t think you could have done better.”
“I watched him alone for months. You couldn’t even manage a week. He was getting better and yea, it’s not your fault his brain decided to fuck him this week, but we might have lost weeks of progress, all of us,” he adjusted the hat on his head.
Yosano went to argue but stopped, sighing deeply instead. She put a hand on Chuuya’s shoulder only for him to shrug it off and cross his arms.
“I know how much you care about him, and I’m truly sorry that we couldn’t do more for him while you were gone,” she said, soft and genuine.
Chuuya glared at them both before clenching his jaw. “... I know it’s not all your fault. He can be difficult when he wants to be. It’s not all sunshine and rainbows for me either. Thank you... for trying your best to look after him while I was gone.”
It pained him to say the words. He looked away from them.
“It was just hard to not be there for that asshole or know if he was okay.”
“I understand,” Yosano said.
All of this was giving Chuuya a headache but more than anything he wanted to see his partner. “I’m going to Dazai. We can talk more later.”
He walked out before anyone had the chance to respond. He got to the dorms in record time thanks to him flying as fast as he could. He touched down in front of Dazai’s door and pushed it open.
The second he opened Dazai’s dorm he knew Dazai had not gotten better while Chuuya was gone. The dorm was messy and a quick check into his fridge ensured that Dazai had barely eaten any of the food Yosano, Ranpo, and the President had left him if he ate any at all.
Chuuya didn’t blame Dazai in the slightest. He knew Dazai was trying so, so hard and bad days, weeks, months happened no matter how well he was doing. Chuuya knew he was Dazai’s main support and his going away, especially after such a long and brutal month and a half where Chuuya was on Dazai’s ass constantly and didn’t let him pull any of his shit, likely made Dazai doubt himself and his ability to heal alone, even if he would never admit it.
Dazai was slowly starting to eat again, finally found the proper dose of medication with Yosano’s help, though Chuuya hid it and gave him every dose, not quite trusting Dazai with a bottle of pills yet, stopped hurting himself, instead, coming to Chuuya when he felt the urge and was taking care of himself and his space. Chuuya knew his boyfriend had likely relapsed with old habits the second he was alone in his struggles against his inner demons and the thought made Chuuya want to punch a hole in a wall.
He calmed himself before going into Dazai’s room. He pushed open the half-closed door and saw Dazai laying there, motionless.
“Osamu?” Chuuya whispered. Dazai turned around immediately to face his boyfriend. Chuuya’s eyes raked up and down his boyfriend’s body, cataloging every small change. His heart ached when he saw the thick layers of bandages covering his wrists and dark bags under Dazai’s eyes. Dazai saw the sad smile on Chuuya’s face and instantly ducked his head, staring at his knees, too ashamed to meet Chuuya’s eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered. Chuuya made his way to the bed, sitting on the side of it, and leaned over to press a firm kiss against Dazai’s forehead.
“You don’t have to apologize,” Chuuya said as he rubbed his thumb against Dazai’s cheek. Dazai’s face crumpled and he started sobbing.
“Oh, honey,” Chuuya murmured as he pulled Dazai into his arms. Dazai rested his head against Chuuya’s shoulder as his body trembled and shook violently. The younger gasped for breath as he hiccuped and wept.
“I’m so sorry,” he choked out through his tears. Chuuya rocked them slowly and hushed Dazai gently as his cries slowed down. He rested his cheek against Dazai’s head.
“It’s alright,” Chuuya soothed. Dazai bit his lip as the tears continued to pour down his cheeks. Guilt had him in a vice grip and refused to let go. Chuuya had done so much for him and he threw it all away the second Chuuya went away like a spoiled child.
“Have you slept at all over the last few days?”
Dazai shook his head. “Couldn’t… I tried but I couldn’t… “
His voice faltered but Chuuya knew what he was going to say. He couldn’t sleep alone after months of sleeping by Chuuya’s side. Even when he had to sleep in the dorms and Chuuya couldn’t sneak in, he had a hard time winding down. The last few days had likely been torture for the ex-mafioso.
Chuuya’s eyes ran down to Dazai’s bandaged arms. He reached out to touch them, aware of the flinch from Dazai but not letting it stop him. He gently traced his finger over the bandages. Chuuya didn’t have to ask, he already knew the answer. A pained whimper escaped Dazai’s mouth. The executive lifted Dazai’s wrists up to his mouth and pressed gentle kisses to them before letting Dazai hide them once more.
Dazai slid down and Chuuya followed, pushing his lover over slightly so he could get in the bed. He cuddled his boyfriend in his arms and held him close.
“I think you should come back to stay with me full time for a while,” Chuuya said softly. Dazai glanced up at Chuuya, eyes glassy and full of anguish, before closing them again.
“I couldn’t do it,” Dazai whispered, voice breaking in the middle of the statement. Chuuya sighed faintly and squeezed Dazai tight, giving his boyfriend a sympathetic, understanding look.
“I know, Mackerel. Sometimes you just need some extra help.”
“I thought I was doing better,” his voice strained.
Chuuya hummed. “You are, sometimes progress is taking a step back before you can take another step forward.”
Dazai didn’t respond, only gripped the sheets tightly in his hands and took a shaky breath.
“I’m sorry,” Dazai said in a low voice. “You shouldn’t have to deal with me.”
“Don’t tell me what I should do, Mackerel. I’m going to do what I want, including taking care of your bandaged ass.”
Dazai huffed a laugh and snuggled his head under Chuuya’s chin.
“What a loyal dog I have,” he whispered. Chuuya smacked the back of his head playfully.
“Watch it!”
They both laughed despite themselves. The laughter melted into easy, genuine smiles. Chuuya would never get tired of looking at Dazai’s smile, eyes dancing and eyebrows relaxed. He brushed Dazai’s hair out of his face and pressed a soft kiss to Dazai’s lips.
I’m here for you.
I’m never going to leave you.
I love you.
Chuuya hoped his feelings were expressed through their kiss. Even if the detectives could barely take care of Dazai, Chuuya vowed to always be there for him and never let his demons win.