Chapter Text
Kunikida found Dazai sitting on Atsushi's grave.
The brunette head was tilted against the gray headstone, and he looked like he was sleeping peacefully. Slight ocean wind threw around strands of his fluffy hair, and for a moment Kunikida could have almost believed that he was just passed out from pure exhaustion.
The other sleeve of his blue-tinted dress shirt was rolled up, and it revealed pale skin between the fabric and his bandages. It was uncharacteristic, since as seductive as the man was, he made a point to never show skin apart from his palms and face. Kunikida took hurried steps closer and gently shook his shoulders, then resorted to slapping his cheeks, but nothing seemed to stir his partner awake. Dazai was ghastly pale, and as Kunikida pressed his fingers on his neck to feel for a pulse, they became damp with cold sweat. Luckily the pulse was there, though it was faint. He then examined the exposed skin, and found a reddish needle prick in his upper forearm.
Damn bastard, Kunikida swore inside his head as he phoned Yosano and simultaneously tried to find the syringe. He found it between Dazai's body - no - Dazai and the headstone. It would've been essential for Yosano to be able to determine the substance injected, but Kunikida didn't exactly fancy being pricked with an used needle. There was no time to wrap it and try to transport it, either. Atsushi could come to retrieve it... No, Atsushi couldn't. They were literally sitting on his grave.
Kunikida lifted Dazai to his arms and hurriedly carried him to the car. As he buckled his coworker up, he made a decision to not give a shit about traffic laws for once. Dazai was going to die otherwise, especially when they didn't know how long he had been there or what was in his system. He sped through the streets of Yokohama as fast as he could, trying to dodge the surprised elderly and pissed off car drivers.
He couldn't afford to lose Dazai.
As Kunikida pulled over right in front of the Agency, he got a few complaining nags from the bystanders, which were quickly silenced as he pulled a limp, bandaged body from the backseat. He quickly felt for a still-existing pulse, cradled Dazai to his chest and pushed through the front door, starting to basically run the stairs to the floor the infirmary was in.
Yosano met them in the hallway. She hurriedly gave orders and asked questions, which Kunikida answered and obeyed robotically.
As she ushered him to the hallway for her to treat Dazai in peace, Kunikida turned around instinctively to check on Atsushi.
It had become his routine in the year they had worked together, to take care of the boy and make sure he was tagging along. It might as well have been written in his Ideal by now. But Atsushi wasn't there, he was in the graveyard. The realisation hit him like a shock wave.
And for the first time since Atsushi's death, Kunikida felt soul-crushing sorrow that threatened to rip him apart. He tumbled down the hallway, earning a worried glance from Yosano, before she rushed in to take care of Dazai.
“Dazai, I do not know if we can ever go back to what we were. You led Atsushi there, didn’t you? And Akutagawa-kun talks of himself as if he’s the filth of the Earth and I can’t bear to listen that. That’s exactly how you taught him, wasn’t it? Honestly, I do not know anymore.”
His last words to Dazai echoed through his mind over and over again. Well, almost last words. If Yosano could revive him, that was. If she could. But if she couldn’t? He had been so stupid and blinded by his righteous rage yet again, he hadn’t thought about how fragile Dazai’s mental state was. Dazai never showed fragility, so it was easy to forget. But they had been friends for two years now, he should have realised. He should have.
Kunikida scrambled to the bathrooms, desperate to hide himself away from the other members of the agency. He was the one who kept the agency in check (as well as it could be kept), the one who worried over others. They couldn't see him like that, they weren’t supposed to worry over him. He could handle this alone.
After Atsushi's death, accepting Akutagawa to the agency and the funeral arrangements had kept him busy. He had been unable and unwilling to grieve, too busy to actually accept that the white-haired and kind-hearted brat that was almost like his little brother was now dead, buried in the sand and covered with grass and a heavy gray stone. Now it all came flooding back.
It was too much. It was all too much. He tried to keep the volume down, but he couldn't hold back the strangled sobs twitching his chest. Palms of his hands smudged the glasses with tears. It was too much. His mind whirled with guilt and overarching sorrow, as the pressure that had slowly and painfully been accumulating in his mind and chest searched for release.
There was a firm hand on his hair that moved to the back of his head, and he was pulled close to another human, green fabric covering the edges of his vision. It was Fukuzawa. Fukuzawa held him gently but firmly as the dam broke, as the fabric of the yukata muffled down the strongest sounds.
He doesn't know how long he was there, held by his mentor, but after a while he was gently pulled up. His eyes were aching and puffy, and breathing was still uneven from the force of the past sobs. Fukuzawa guided him to his room, and prepared two cups of tea, placing them on the desk. Green tea with a hint of sugar, just how Kunikida liked it. He took it gratefully, and sipped the scorching hot liquid, trembling hands clutching the hot mug. Tea always calmed him down.
Yosano knocked on the door, and peeked into the office, then came to stand halfway through the doorway. She inspected Kunikida's red-rimmed eyes for a brief moment, before going to the point. "Dazai is now stable, as I was able to give him the antidote. He's sleeping now. Luckily you found him in time, Kunikida."
Kunikida nodded, as a stray tear rolled down his face. He sniffled, and clutched the mug, eyes inspecting the surface of the tea. It was a desperate attempt to keep his composure that was now teetering on the edge.
"I'll stay with him for the night, you can see him tomorrow. Good night."
"Thank you, Yosano-sensei. And good night", Fukuzawa said, and Kunikida could hear an ounce of gratitude in the otherwise stoic voice.
Kunikida murmured a good night too, not trusting his voice to speak clearer. He took a sip from the mug and breathed deeply a few times to get a hold of his nerves.
Fukuzawa insisted on him staying for a while longer, but he politely declined, stating that he needed a while alone.
Walk to the dorms was relatively quiet and calm as it was the middle of the week. Only a few pedestrians passed him, but he couldn’t be bothered to face them properly. He shivered slightly, as the cooling night enveloped him in a wet haze.
After a short while, he was in the dorms, staring at his mahogany door.
He did not dare to glance at the oil drum taking its place in the middle of the yard. It was the drum where Dazai had attempted suicide, albeit lightly, and he had ignored it as another prank, forcing Atsushi to interfere and kick the bucket to get Dazai out. Literally, not figuratively, back then.
He hummed, and wiped crusty dried tears from the corners of his eyes. Maybe he should go and check Atsushi's apartment. Kyouka had moved in with Kenji, so he didn't need to worry about distracting Kyouka. But would it be too much? Probably. He should do it later.
He twisted the key in the lock to his own apartment, and kicked the shoes off, simultaneously placing them in place and closing the door. He sat down to his futon and took his glasses off, placing them to the floor as he laid down and pulled the cover over. He was deathly tired, and it didn’t take long before he was lulled to sleep.
.....
Seeing Dazai was unnerving at best, as he slept tugged in pristine white sheets, pale hands clammy. He shivered in his sleep occasionally, followed by tiny whimpers. Kunikida took his cool hand, and rubbed it gently.
Muffled coughs behind his back alerted him to Akutagawa's arrival. He let go of the hand and faced Akutagawa lingering in the doorway. Carefully the boy made his way to sit in the chair on the opposite side of Dazai's bed. His eyes were trained down, though dry, and his hands were clenched in fists on his lap.
"How is Dazai-san?"
"Dazai is okay, now. We found him in time and Yosano was able to treat him", Kunikida explained.
Akutagawa gave a stiff nod, before standing up and leaving the room hurriedly.
A few moments later, Dazai's eyes fluttered open, the closing to half-lidded when the blinding light of the treatment room hit them.
"Akutagawa was here. That boy is worried sick over you", Kunikida scolded lightly.
"He shouldn't be", Dazai answered sleepily, sleepiness accented with a yawn.
"But he is. He cares about you, Dazai, despite all the shit you've done", Kunikida assured, slightly raising his voice in irritation.
"Don't you think that's awfully rude to say to someone who has just woken up after a suicide attempt, Kunikida-kun?" Dazai smiled. The smile was tired, but it held some of that signature mischievousness (or fakeness, rather) that Dazai was known for.
"Well that's the truth, anyways. I haven't forgiven you yet, but he has. And don't do anything like this again", Kunikida said, annoyed.
"Ne, Kunikida-kun cares about me" Dazai teased, grin widening.
Before Kunikida could answer, Yosano stepped to the room. She was carrying neatly folded sheets, presumably to put back to the infirmary’s cabinet.
"He had a full-fledged mental breakdown last night", she chimed in, putting down the pristine sheets to the vacant bed next to Dazai’s. She stepped closer to them and flashed a smile to Dazai. It was almost like they had decided unanimously to torment Kunikida.
"Yosano!" Kunikida exclaimed with false annoyance. It was true, he cared about Dazai. There was no need to this, though.
"Do you think he actually believes you care if I didn't say that?", Yosano questioned, tilting her head.
Kunikida sighed in defeat and rubbed his forehead where the headache from crying last night still lingered. It was over Atsushi, too, but Dazai had probably deduced that with his annoyingly bright brain cells.
"You are important to me, Dazai, despite our differences. You are important to all of us. Don't go doing anything like that ever again, okay?" Kunikida squeezed Dazai's hand firmly.
"You know I can't promise anything like that", Dazai said, his voice taking a slightly graver turn.
"I didn't mean to hurt you, Dazai. I didn't. I don't want to lose you. I just find some things hard to accept, especially with Akutagawa and.." his voice faded as his throat constricted with sorrow and frustration. Frustration towards himself and frustration towards Dazai. Yosano's firm but gentle hand found his shoulder covered by his signature beige vest.
"I don't want to lose Kunikida-kun, either", Dazai tilted his head downwards, his brown shaggy bangs covering his eyes.