Chapter Text
Walking up the hill to Odasaku’s grave, Dazai gazed at the sun that slowly inched towards the horizon line. Sitting himself down, he leaned against the cool stone. “Hello old friend.” He said softly. “I suppose I owe you an apology.” He glanced down at the headstone. Reaching out, he traced the letters with a finger, relishing the feeling of the cold surface. “I still remember that day.” He said quietly. “I’ve done what you wished. And… I fear that I am tired. The world.. is not made for beautiful souls. It crushes people like you.” He remained silent for a long while staring out at the horizon line. Dazai had been waiting.. and trying for this very day.. this moment for a long time. And now that it was happening now? He didn’t know.
He stayed there for a long time, relishing in the silence. Revisiting memories. His mind was set. He was going to do this. Thinking back at his day, he smiled. As the sun finally dipped below the horizon line, he stood brushing himself off. Walking down the hill, Dazai continued to walk. He walked far from the agency, far from Odasaku, far from the city. It was quite dark now. He wasn't even sure where he was, but he was assured by the thought that no one would be finding him anytime soon. Reaching into his coat, he felt the cool metal of the gun that had rested heavily in his pocket all day. Pulling it out and resting it against his temple, Dazai closed his eyes. And with that, Dazai Osamu smiled for the final time.
He'd never felt so peaceful.
…
Ranpo raced up that hill. It perhaps was the longest treck he'd ever experienced. Something was up with Dazai all day, and he knew it. But he hadn't acted how, idiotic had he been?! All he could do now was hope. Hope he wasn't to late. “DAZAI!” Ranpo screamed as he finally reached the peak.. Only to find no one. Odasaku’s grave remained the same as it always was. Peaceful, silent, and unfortunately Dazai-less. Ranpo had ran all over the city, searching for where the man possibly could’ve been. Had his first thought been here.. Perhaps he would've caught him. Ranpo let out a shaky sigh taking a few stumbling steps back. “Dammit Dazai.” He said quietly.
…
From the Port Mafia, Chuuya couldn't take it
anymore. The subtle feeling of dread had only increased over his day. Standing abruptly, he stormed out of the room, and out of the building. He desperately needed some fresh air. His day had gone absolutely horribly! Barely any work was completed, everyone has been pissing him off, and he felt like absolute dog crap. Chuuya couldn't quite remember how long he had walked for, but he distinctly remembered stepping in something wet. Cursing, he looked down, and that's when it hit him. The familiar metallic scent of blood tainted his senses and he cursed again, louder. For two reasons really, one, his shoes where ruined. Two, he may have just stumbled across a corpse. There wasn’t much blood from what he could tell. It was too dark for any of this.
“Do I even want to investigate this?” Chuuya murmured to himself through gritted teeth. Crouching down, he hesitantly reached out trying to get a sense of what this was… there. He felt a arm. Jumping slightly at the sudden contact, he continued to feel around. “Shit..” Chuuya murmured under his breath. His hand had frozen, as all the dread he’d felt all day finally came washing over him. Underneath his hold was the familiar feeling of bandages. “Dazai?” He whispered almost in disbelief. Forcing his hand to move, he felt a sleeve. Rolling it up, he could feel more bandages. Traveling up his entire arm. Chuuya’s breath started to grow ragged in panic. “Dazai.” he repeated more firmly. Chuuya didn't know what to expect. The skin under all that clothe was freezing cold. Chuuya yanked his hand away from the corpse. He was mad. Furious even. Was he mad at Dazai? Was he mad at himself?.. Letting out a small yell of distress, he stumbled back from the body. He shouldn't have gotten involved, stupid Dazai, stupid day….What was he even going to do?
…
“He what?” Atsushi asked in horror. Ranpo stood by Fukuzawa, his head bowed. The older man nodded his head solemnly. “We received news from Mori… his body was found near the outskirts of the city.” He said silently. Kunikida sat in stunned silence. Yosano clenched her fists, tears already pricking at her eyes. Kenji and Kyouka were already crying silently, Tanizaki trying and failing to comfort them. Atsushi was taking the brunt of all of this. “That can't be true.” he said through tears. “I talked to him just yesterday! They must’ve taken him hostage. They're lying.” The boy said desperately lurching forward. Fukuzawa put a hand on Atsushi’s shoulder. “Theres nothing we can do now.” He said quietly.
“I’m sorry” Ranpo said suddenly. Taking his glasses off, he raised his head and looked at Atsushi. “I.. I knew something was going on. If I had been faster-”
“Don’t blame yourself.” Fukuzawa said firmly. “You tried. Now all we can do is wish him a peaceful rest.”
The port mafia wasn't handling this any better. Mori had been pissed all day. His mood hadn't improved the slightest when Chuuya came racing back with the news. Chuuya was sharing a similar situation. He was conflicted with the whole ordeal. He'd dealt with dead bodies before, he was in the damn Mafia! But this?.. This was different. No one could talk to him without being faced with a violent outburst. He kept finding traces of Dazai everywhere he went.
Akutugawa wasn't any better. “What?” He asked stonely when he was informed. It's the weretigers fault. Were Akutugawa’s first thoughts. He'd stormed over to the agency in a rage, confronting Atsushi. It was messy, tears and sore throats. Akutugawa had eventually stormed off unsatisfied. In all honestly, deep down in his soul Akutugawa knew he was wrong for blaming Atsushi. They were really one in the same, both losing a mentor… someone they looked up to. But Akutugawa couldn't face that. Pent up rage and jealousy prevented him. A few weeks after the whole incident, he'd left the Port Mafia. He didn't have a purpose to stay other than impress to Dazai. Rise the ranks, earn his respects. But now?… the man he seeked respect and praise from was gone. So Akutugawa was gone too.
Grieving is a complicated thing. It takes time to heal, yet grief never leaves you. The Armed detective agency had a particularly hard time recovering. The port mafia was a similar story. Chuuya was furious at first.. But now? He was okay. Dazai’s memory still remained in his peripheral but he would live. Mori now remained mildly annoyed at the whole thing. Akutugawa had gone missing entirely, Higuchi hurrying to leave the Mafia in a effort to follow after him. Atsushi took the longest to recover. It was like he was right back at base one, living in misery. Nightmares of the orphanage haunted his sleep. But with the help of the other Agency members… he would be okay. Dazai’s funeral was small, consisting of only the Agency. He'd been buried respectively by Odasaku. Kunikida stepped up first. From behind him, the other members watched through tear ful eyes. Ranpo reached up, taking his hat off in respect. “Ladies and gentlemen, we’re gathered here..” Kunikida trailed off. “Nevermind the basic speech… Dazai wasn't a basic man. He was complex with a mind I don't think anyone truly understood.” The ceremony dragged on for a long while... Each member having their own tearful speech. It wasn’t till nightfall did they all trail away, flowers left at Dazai’s grave. A few minutes later, Chuuya poked his head out from the shadows. Watching the Agency members walk away, he finally stepped out from his hiding spot.
“I knew you'd do it someday.” He said looking down at the tombstone. “I just.. Wasn't prepared for it. I suppose I have some respect for you. You've.. really changed from what you were.” Seemingly catching himself Chuuya hurried to add on to his statement. “You still suck. Leaving again just like that?…. Rest well Dazai.”Hurriedly throwing down a rose, he walked away not long after.
Obviously, Dazai’s death wasn't anything small. Word spread of course, but Ango was one of the first to find out. How he'd found out was another story. It was months after Dazai’s death. Early in the evening, Ango made the slow walk up the hill, to visit his two friends.
Coming to a halt in front of the two stones, he sighed. A small collection of flowers had gathered at Dazai’s. Ango had brought flowers himself. Dropping one at Odasaku’s and one at Dazai’s he remained silent for a long while. “We meet again.”
It wasn't a surprise that Dazai hadn't bothered talking to Ango in his final days. “I suppose I'll take some accountability. Perhaps if I hadn't done what I did that night, all three of us would still be... All three of us would still be a group. I'm grateful for what you two gave me. Rest well.”
Walking away from the graves, Ango gazed at the setting sun. “I could use a drink.”