Chapter Text
The Armed Detective Agency was loud long before Dazai arrived.
It was always loud.
Dazai revelled in the noise.
It made the world feel uncomplicated.
Safe, even.
He had no idea that by the end of the day, normal would become something he missed.
Papers shuffled. Keyboards clicked. Kunikida barked about schedules with the fury of a man personally betrayed by time itself. Atsushi apologised every thirty seconds for things that weren't his fault. Kenji laughed too loudly at something only half the office understood while Naomi clung dramatically to Tanizaki's arm.
Normal.
Chaotic.
Alive.
And unfortunately for everyone involved—
Dazai Osamu was about to make it worse.
The office door burst open with enough force to smack against the wall.
"Good morning, my beloved coworkers!" Dazai announced brightly.
Silence.
Everyone looked up.
Dazai stood in the doorway absolutely soaked from the rain despite the fact it had barely been drizzling outside. His coat hung half-off one shoulder, bandages peeking beneath wrinkled clothes, and there was a suspicious leaf tangled in his hair.
Kunikida adjusted his glasses slowly.
Dangerously.
“You’re late.”
Dazai gasped. “Kunikida-kun, is that any way to greet the light of your life?”
“You are three hours late.”
“I was conducting important investigations.”
“You were floating face-down in the river again.”
Dazai smiled proudly. “Ah. So you saw.”
“I HAD TO PULL YOU OUT.”
“That was very romantic of you.”
Kunikida snapped his notebook shut hard enough to echo through the office.
“I am going to kill you one day.”
“Promises, promises.”
Atsushi sighed quietly into his paperwork.
Across the room, Ranpo didn’t even look up from his snacks.
“He’s lying,” he said around a mouthful of chips.
Dazai froze dramatically. “Ranpo-san wounds me.”
“You weren’t investigating anything. You got distracted trying to flirt with a waitress, got rejected, dramatically declared life meaningless, then threw yourself into the river.”
A beat.
“…You can’t prove that.”
“You still have the café napkin in your pocket.”
Dazai immediately checked his pocket.
Ranpo smirked without opening his eyes.
Kunikida looked seconds from an aneurysm.
“WHY,” he shouted, “ARE YOU LIKE THIS?”
Dazai wandered toward his desk like he hadn’t heard him.
“Honestly, Kunikida-kun, you ask that every day. At this point it’s starting to feel flirtatious.”
“It is a cry for help.”
“That too.”
Yosano glanced up from her medical reports with visible amusement.
“You look awful.”
Dazai brightened. “Ah, Yosano-sensei noticing me? I’m honoured.”
“You have algae in your hair.”
“Nature loves me.”
“It’s trying to reclaim you.”
Fair.
Dazai collapsed dramatically into his chair, immediately stealing one of Atsushi’s snacks on the way down.
Atsushi stared in horror.
“D-Dazai-san, that was my lunch—”
“Was,” Dazai corrected gently.
“That’s not better!”
“It is for me.”
Kyouka silently slid half of her own snack toward Atsushi beneath the desk.
Atsushi looked ready to cry from gratitude.
Dazai pointed accusingly. “Favouritism.”
“You stole his food,” Kyouka said flatly.
“Details.”
“You also owe me money,” Yosano added.
“I owe many people many things.”
“And me,” Kunikida snapped.
“That one feels less important emotionally.”
Kunikida’s eye twitched violently.
Fukuzawa finally looked up from his tea near the window.
The room quieted slightly automatically.
Not out of fear.
Respect.
The Agency naturally bent around Fukuzawa’s presence like gravity.
Calm settled wherever he was.
Even Dazai straightened a little beneath that gaze.
“You completed the paperwork from yesterday?” Fukuzawa asked.
“No.”
“Dazai.”
“I considered it deeply.”
“That is not completing it.”
“But spiritually—”
“Dazai.”
“…No.”
A collective sigh swept through the office.
Kenji laughed cheerfully.
“I can help you if you want!”
Dazai looked genuinely touched.
“Kenji-kun, you’re too pure for this world.”
“I know,” Ranpo muttered.
Naomi leaned dramatically across Tanizaki’s desk.
“I still think we should chain Dazai-san to his chair.”
Tanizaki looked horrified. “N-Naomi…”
“What? It’d improve efficiency.”
“Cruel,” Dazai whispered.
“You forged Kunikida-san’s signature last week.”
“In my defence, it was beautiful handwriting.”
Kunikida looked moments from launching himself across the office.
Again.
Atsushi watched the exchange with exhausted familiarity.
Somehow, impossibly, this had become normal to him too.
The Agency functioned through chaos and caffeine and mutual suffering.
And Dazai sat directly at the centre of most of it.
He looked lazy sprawled across the desk.
Unfocused.
Annoying.
Like a cat that had somehow learned tax fraud.
But Atsushi had worked with him long enough now to notice things other people missed.
Like how Dazai’s eyes tracked every movement in the room even while joking.
How he already knew exactly where everyone was without looking.
How his smile changed depending on who he spoke to.
Tiny things.
Invisible things.
The mask never truly slipped.
Not fully.
For a moment, Dazai's gaze drifted toward the rain-streaked window.
His fingers paused against the desk.
Just for a second.
Then the smile returned.
Easy.
Effortless.
As though nothing at all had interrupted it.
Atsushi frowned faintly.
Something felt... off.
Not wrong enough to name.
Just strange enough to notice.
The feeling vanished as quickly as it came.
A joke later, everyone was laughing again.
Still, Atsushi would remember that brief pause afterward.
“........Dazai-san.”
“Hm?”
Atsushi hesitated. “Did you actually finish the case report?”
Dazai blinked innocently.
“No.”
Kunikida slammed both hands on his desk.
“YOU SAID YOU DID!”
“I lied.”
“I KNOW THAT NOW.”
Ranpo snorted loudly.
Yosano hid a laugh behind her coffee cup.
Even Fukuzawa looked faintly tired.
Dazai grinned lazily at the chaos around him.
And yet—
Underneath it all—
He was restless today.
More than usual.
His fingers tapped lightly against the desk.
His gaze drifted toward the window too often.
Rain slid down the glass outside in silver streaks.
Gray skies.
Cold air.
The kind of weather that made old memories crawl closer.
Dazai hated weather like this.
Not because of the rain.
Because rain made him think.
And thinking too long was dangerous.
“Dazai.”
He blinked.
Kunikida stood over him holding a stack of paperwork thick enough to qualify as attempted murder.
“No.”
“You haven’t even heard what I said.”
“I sensed evil intentions.”
“You’re doing these reports.”
“I’d rather die.”
“That can be arranged.”
“How cruel. In front of Atsushi too.”
Atsushi looked away immediately.
Kunikida shoved the papers directly into Dazai’s chest.
“You are staying here until they’re done.”
Dazai stared down at the paperwork like it had personally insulted his ancestors.
“…This is workplace abuse.”
“This is consequences.”
“Same thing.”
“You’ve been avoiding reports for four days.”
“I’ve been busy.”
“Doing what?”
Dazai paused thoughtfully.
“Mentally suffering.”
“That isn’t work.”
“It is for me.”
Kunikida inhaled sharply through his nose.
The sound of a man nearing spiritual collapse.
Ranpo finally cracked open one eye.
“You’re extra annoying today.”
“Aw, you noticed.”
“You’re bored.”
Dazai’s smile flickered almost invisibly.
Too quick for most people to catch.
Not for Ranpo.
Ranpo knew him too well.
“Maybe,” Dazai said lightly.
"Then go bother Chuuya instead of us."
For the briefest second, Dazai's smile softened.
Then it was gone.
"He is not my boyfriend."
The room collectively paused.
Atsushi blinked.
Kenji tilted his head.
Naomi perked up instantly.
"Ooooh, boyfriend mention."
Atsushi looked between them nervously. "You said that really fast, Dazai-san."
"Years of practice," Dazai replied smoothly.
"That's not helping your case, I mean you do buy him wine." Yosano said.
“That proves nothing.”
“You called him pretty once,” Atsushi muttered before he could stop himself.
Dead silence.
Dazai turned slowly.
Atsushi immediately regretted existing.
“I did what?”
Atsushi panicked. “Y-you said his eyes looked pretty after that mission and—”
“I was concussed.”
“You sounded sincere.”
“I was dying.”
Ranpo looked delighted.
Kunikida looked exhausted beyond human comprehension.
“Please,” Kunikida muttered, “for the love of God, do not start whatever this is during office hours.”
“Too late,” Yosano said cheerfully.
Dazai slumped dramatically over his desk.
“Honestly, I’m wounded by these accusations. Chuuya is merely my violently unstable ex-partner with anger issues and questionable fashion taste.”
"Your phone background is literally a picture of him."
Dazai's hand moved instinctively toward his phone.
Too quick.
Too protective.
Everyone noticed.
Dazai froze.
The office froze with him.
Then every single head turned slowly toward him.
Atsushi blinked.
"...Dazai-san."
"...It is not."
"It is," Atsushi whispered.
"It absolutely is," Tanizaki added.
Naomi looked ecstatic.
Kunikida looked like he wanted retirement.
Ranpo grinned wickedly.
"Caught."
Only then did Dazai seem to realize what he'd done.
He immediately pulled his phone closer.
Protectively.
"Privacy is dead in this office."
“You made fun of my cat photos yesterday,” Atsushi argued.
“Different. Mine are artistic.”
“You zoomed in on his face.”
“That proves nothing.”
“It proves you’re obsessed,” Yosano said.
Dazai placed a hand over his heart.
“How dare you.”
Fukuzawa took a quiet sip of tea.
“Complete your paperwork.”
“…Yes, President.”
Dazai laughed along with the chaos around him.
Yet every so often, his gaze drifted toward his phone.
A glance.
Then another.
Subtle enough that nobody seemed to notice.
He couldn't explain it.
Something felt off today.
A strange restlessness sat beneath his skin, refusing to leave.
For approximately twelve minutes, peace existed.
Dazai actually worked.
Miraculously.
Kunikida nearly cried from relief.
Then—
Dazai disappeared.
Again.
Atsushi looked up first.
“…Where did Dazai-san go?”
Kunikida went still.
Very still.
Then slowly lowered his pen.
“No.”
The window behind Dazai's desk was open.
Kunikida's scream echoed through the building.
“DAZAIIIIIIII!”
Dazai escaped the Agency at precisely 6:47 PM.