Chapter Text
Dazai lay on his futon, flipping through his complete guide to suicide in boredom and changing positions every now and then. Despite his current activity, he preferred the lighting of the room to be dim, as he already knew every word to this masterpiece of a book.
The brunet reached for his glass of whiskey and took a sip, eyes never leaving the page. He fought a shiver against the breeze that seeped in through the open crack in the window, glaring at the source of cold before realizing he actually had to get up and close it. His feet dragged across the creaking ground, and Dazai sighed in relief once the sounds of traffic- previously presumed as background noise- also disappeared with the window closing.
A set of unsteady knocks finally rose from his door, making his head turn curiously.
The last few days at work could be best described as serene, one would see it as a rare occasion. A time in which Ranpo whistled around the office, comfortably snacked behind his desk or when feeling a bit more social, accompanied Yosano on her shopping, quite willingly so. Or that he'd allow Kenji to show him around his farm or meet his favorite cows, taking a trip to the countryside. In which the Tanizaki's were allowed to focus more on their student lives, and the distressed crinkles in Kunikida's forehead unravelled, his typing less aggressive on the keyboard, and his voice coming out as a halfhearted gruff instead of yelling.
(Dazai made sure to step on his nerves anyway once in a while)
Opening the door, the sight of an unsteady figure awaited him, blood already pooling beneath his feet, dripping from his slashed clothes and the tips of his fingers. "Atsushi-kun?" Ah yes, the one detective who was actually on a job today, an operation led by the Special Division. "I thought you'd be back hours ago." He voiced, eyebrows high on his forehead in surprise.
"Dazai-san," Unruly albino hair gently flowing with the nightly breeze, Atsushi's smile was asymmetrical in an odd way, genuine despite his obvious exhaustion, and he appeared to struggle with focusing his vision.
Dazai inspected his appearance, finding it impressive how the boy was still standing straight, considering Atsushi'd probably returned to the dorms on foot. He had a habit of refraining from spending his money on anything other than food, which was a bit funny, at first. "Should you visit me this late at night?" Atsushi's excitement dimmed, making him shake his head with a smile. "I mean you need medical treatment right now. Is it that bad that you mistook my door for Yosano-sensei's?" Dazai grinned and crossed his arms, leaning his shoulder on the doorframe.
"No, I'm at the right door." Atsushi pouted, offended at his teasing. "You're mean Dazai-san, you're so mean. If you don't want anyone to visit you, you shouldn't have a door." He pointed his index accusingly, his war with balance rather prominent as his voice rose suddenly.
Dazai's lips parted wordlessly for five beats. "Atsushi-kun, are you… drunk?"
"No, it's just blood loss." He flashed him his unsteady smile, legs threatening to give in. He was heavily soaked in blood, most of it his own no doubt.
"I smell alcohol." Dazai leaned down to catch a whiff of his reek, displeased at the sharp mingle of iron and alcohol.
"Don… don't worry, I didn't drink any of it." Atsushi swayed forward, words slightly slurred.
"Ah, so why are you covered in… an inflammable liquid this late?" Dazai raised an eyebrow, rebalancing him by the shoulders.
"I'm too tired to answer all these questions, Dazai-saaan." Atsushi dragged on in a childish grumble that would sit more naturally on someone like Dazai, it was strangely amusing. At this point, it was clear that the boy had no intentions of leaving to his own private quarters nor seeking medical attention, so Dazai shook his head and helped him inside.
"Shouldn't Kyouka-chan be with you? I remember you leaving together."
"She gets here tomorrow. Apparently something came up." For someone who neglected his physical wellness with such an ease, Atsushi's head lolled forward too often, as if drifting in and out of consciousness. And with this new acquired information, it would be unfair to leave Atsushi on his own.
Making a mental note to investigate about Kyouka's issue later, Dazai hummed and guided him to the bathroom. "Alright Atsushi-kun, let's get you cleaned up a bit."
"I thought you didn't appreciate visitors." Atsushi grumbled with annoyance, making him chuckle with mirth. This felt more like their usual interactions, a more present retort from the young detective. "Just kick this cat out like a stray, won't you?" He made wild random gestures with his arms, no trace of humor in his tone.
"Hey don't be like that, tiger boy." Dazai pushed him lightly to sit on the edge of the tub. "Man, it must be bad if it has you calling yourself out like that." He mused as he pulled the long ignored first aid kit and put it on the sink, lending an absent ear to Atsushi complaining about Ango- on a more cheerful day, Dazai would've added to the shit talking for the hell of it, but he just hummed along. "What are your injuries?" The boy went silent. "Atsushi-kun."
"It's just a scratch." He sounded so small, afraid he was doing something wrong, a manner more pronounced in his injured state.
"Oh yeah?" Dazai turned to him with challenging raised eyebrows. "Take your clothes off and let me see."
"B-but Dazai-san." Chided the younger, pale cheeks turning pink. "You haven't even taken me to dinner yet."
Dazai's brows rose higher, and Atsushi blinked repeatedly, a sheepish smile on his face. Then, gave his subordinate a tilted incredulous look. "Oh, you think you can distract me with one of my own tricks?"
"Um, worth a shot?"
Dazai huffed, lips curled up and bandaged hands going to open the buttons of Atsushi's torn no-longer-so white dress shirt, one by one. "I'm not leaving you to bleed like this, kid." He tried to peel the clothing off of him, only to purse his lips when Atsushi quietly hissed in response. It was most likely stuck to the dried blood on the open wounds. Making a change of plans, he turned on the shower faucet instead, adjusting the temperature. "It would be very irresponsible of me not to take care of the stray cat I picked up, right?" He joked back, briefly looking back from where he was bent over the tub, expecting to see Atsushi angry and pouting again. "Especially when he comes back after a fight all scratched up."
But Atsushi's eyes shimmered with abrupt tears ready to slip out, his smile tired and sweet. "Mhm."
"Get over here, you crybaby." Dazai sighed with a grin and coaxed him to step under the shower. When Atsushi yelped and stepped back abruptly out of the blue, remembering something.
"Wait, I almost forgot." Dazai gave him a tilted look. "Your gift will get ruined." He groaned, scrambling out a small black box from his pocket and securing it above the sink before stepping under the water.
"What? For me?" Dazai flashed him an expression of pleasant surprise, waiting for the water to soak through the fabric and for Atsushi's flinch to subdue. "How thoughtful of you."
"It's the whole reason I came here." Atsushi deadpanned. "I really am out of it."
Dazai gave a closed mouthed chuckle, finally able to take the shirt off with ease, slipping it off the tiger's shoulders. Next went his suspenders and tie, and finally his pants, leaving the drowsy one in his boxers only. The dark color of those pants didn't reveal any presence of blood, but the gaping hole in its thigh told him enough. "I see your healing ability's finally kicking in. You look more coherent, and the bleeding's nearly stopped."
"Oh yeah, it gets slow whenever the tiger has too many injuries to heal at a time." Atsushi blinked sluggishly, as if just noticing new things about his surroundings. "I shouldn't be surprised that she gets tired too."
"The tiger doesn't summon strength from thin air." Dazai calmly explained, running a mild soap over his arms. "Your ability still stems from your body, which if grows exhausted enough, just won't bother with spending the extra energy." He cut himself up to catch Atsushi by the armpits when he slipped. "You should sit down. I'll fill the tub."
"The water bill though." Atsushi slurred in disapproval but complied reluctantly.
"My water bill will be just fine." Dazai snorted, gathering Atsushi's clothes and pondering if he should just throw them away before deciding to leave that to Atsushi and soaking them in bleach. Then he threw them in the watching machine while a half awake Atsushi sprawled in the bathtub, contently basking in the warmth the hot water presented him. "Alright-" When he turned back towards the boy, Atsushi was lazily looking at him already, slumped in place. He had one arm propped up on the side edge of the tub, and his head resting near it, facing the brunet man. Damp silver hair stuck to his forehead and glistened with little droplets, the shine of it looking blurry to Dazai's eyes through the warm steam. Atsushi smiled and so did his sunset-kissed skies, an action sincere however faint. Somehow, he always found something to smile about.
Dazai did too, but most of his were fake and meaningless. There was something intriguing, dare he say inspiring about sincere emotions like the Weretiger's.
"You said you got me a gift." Dazai muttered once he realized he'd gone silent and staring for too long. "Is there a special occasion I didn't know about?" He lightened his tone, helping him out to dab his wounds dry. There were three major wounds in total, two of them stretching across his chest and one on his left shoulder.
"It's your birthday, silly." Atsushi rolled his eyes and giggled, barely reacting when chlorhexidine touched the open skin.
"Sure it is." Dazai agreed with him in an almost patronizing way.
"Wha- it's already past midnight, isn't it?" Atsushi squirmed at the feeling of bandages pressing at sensitive skin, a defensiveness evident in his tone. "It's June nineteenth."
"Atsushi-kun," Dazai snorted at the new roll he ripped for his shoulder. "My birthday isn't-"
"Yes it is."
"How do you-" He sighed.
"I looked into your government files." Atsushi said it so casually that the taller didn't even process it for a moment.
When he did, he almost sank the nearest sharp object into something stabbable. You know, old habits. "You huh?" His voice came out a bit louder this time.
"Are you upset?" The boy's head hung low, casting a shadow of shame on his face. "I- I just wanted to cheer you up a bit."
Maybe Atsushi had hit his head somewhere on the way there, Dazai mulled over the boy's behavior, holding the bandages and the injured arm uncertainly, staring at him like Atsushi was contagious or had grown a second head. But eventually gave in with a sigh, resuming the treatment. "You sure know how to spoil a guy, don't you?"
The faint ring of sarcasm seemed to bolster Atsushi, as he straightened from his slouch. He happily offered his newly crimson smeared face for Dazai to dab. "I already know everyone else's birthdays." The other hummed him on. "But no one in the agency knew yours, and Ranpo-san said the one on your ID is fake. I thought Dazai-san must really not want anyone to know."
Dazai contemplated giving a truthful answer, resisting the urge to smack the boy in the head, but he probably had a concussion already. "I've never cared much for the real date, I suppose. As long as it didn't bring about any legal issues, I couldn't care less when I was born." He shrugged.
"That's such an underwhelming reaction." Atsushi pouted and he grinned. "I care about when you were born."
Dazai paused in the next wrap, Atsushi's soft words echoing in the quiet room, morphing the air almost intimately.
Undisturbed by his silence, the tiger added. "Wait, you really didn't know your real birthday?"
"No, I didn't know." Dazai arched a brunet eyebrow.
"Well, I did." The younger laughed, making the other roll his eyes.
"What a stalker, yeesh." Despite his calm exterior, he was assessing the situation. Atsushi seemed pretty relaxed around him, even with his possible head trauma- yes, he definitely needed to be properly examined.
"I only looked up your birthday, nothing else." As if reading his mind, Atsushi gently reassured, and honesty was splayed out in his stare.
Dazai did a double check. "Wait, you had my entire biography in front of you, a family tree of three generations, a long detailed list of all my past crimes, my ties to the Mafia, everything and you only peaked at my birthday? " He made sure to spell it all out and put a comical amount of emphasis.
"Yes!" Chirped the tiger, then turned sheepish, head sinking between his shoulders. "Of course I wasn't gonna look. If you wanted me to know something, you'd tell me." He shrugged then winced, forgetful of his freshly bandaged injuries.
"Are you stupid or something?" Chuckled the former mafioso.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Open the box."
Atsushi was certainly an interesting person, if not slightly stupid and naive. He had a naturally kind heart, laid out for the world to break, only for him to pick up the pieces and move forward time and time again. Something akin to hope- no, stronger than hope, flickered deep inside his chest, a fierce flame that fascinated Dazai from the very beginning by the riverbank at their first meeting. His stubborn, insane, almost maniacal will to live.
He'd been whispered to since birth that he didn't deserve to live, had come to believe it in the roots of his mind even. Yet here he was, carrying his own shatters proudly and gluetaping every broken soul he came across.
It was riduculous, Atsushi's forgiving kindness. A foolishness that was going to be the end of him one day. But it was the same thing Dazai admired about him. It brought back old familiar memoried of another friend who refused to act accordingly to his intelligence, it awakened bittersweet memories from their slumber, after Dazai tried to lock them away for so long.
Dazai didn't move after spotting a single flash drive in the box.
Memories of the rare times people were able to trick him, outsmart him, or catch him off guard swam by his mind. A ghost of a faint smile surrounded by messy red hair, telling him the best lie he could ever be told.
It's foolish to die without going there.
Back in the present, he didn't ask what the gift was, but Atsushi answered anyway.
"Whatever's in that flash drive is wiped off all official databases." Atsushi failed miserably trying to conceal his pride. "If there's any information of Dazai Osamu or more specifically a certain era of him, file name Demon Prodigy out there, it's no more than rumors." Dazai held back a physical reaction at his old name rolling off Atsushi's tongue, and at how the boy grinned almost mischievously.
"I know your past was already partially cleared but with enough clearance it still wasn't unreachable. I thought if I'm going to this deep secret place for the mission, I might as well be helpful. I obviously needed Ango-san's help with that part and how to implant a false and unsuspicious story, but yeah. I figured what a coincidence, your birthday is quite near. So..."
"Happy birthday, Dazai-san!"
For some reason, Dazai wanted Atsushi to stay. Maybe have hot chocolate with him and then sleep here, because firstly, he shouldn't be left alone with those injuries and second, Atsushi's dorm room would be colder with one less person there- with Kyouka being absent. It was a thought with no start nor an end, no logic and no sense.
So he ignored it.
And so now that Atsushi was gone, he lazily sprawled on his couch, examining the box. A birthday gift, huh?
Something small and metallic fell from it, landing on his face and making him curse.
Picking it back up, it revealed to be a little lapel pin.
Shaped like a black cat.
Nakajima Atsushi was an interesting person, he thought once more.