dazai, but it's the smiths
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Summary
Dazai didn’t miss the old days.
They were full of heedless violence, boring executive meetings, and a never-ending power struggle between himself and Mori.
There was nothing to look forward to, just destruction for the sake of doing so and an unbearable coldness that soaked through to his bones.
It wasn’t a lifestyle he wanted from himself anymore—and wasn’t that improvement in itself? —but more importantly, it wasn’t one Oda would’ve wanted.
So, there he was, twirling one of Kunikida’s pens between his fingers at his desk as he stared out the rain-drenched window.
It was quiet, calm, peaceful. Yet, Dazai couldn’t help but note the consuming feeling that something was missing that trembled in his body.
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Dazai laments about the old days with Oda on a rainy day at the ADA.Series
- Part 1 of dazai, but it's the smiths
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Summary
It was no secret that Atsushi was shy.
While his mentee had his moments of boldness and extroverted outbursts, it was in his nature to be a timid little thing. Even if the poor kid didn’t go through all the neglect and abuse at the orphanage, Dazai doubted that he would be the type to randomly walk up to a stranger and strike a conversation outside of a case on the subway.
Dazai bobbed his head over to his left. The boy was hunched over his desk, scribbling away at some report from that theft case two weeks ago that Dazai had slipped in between his usual assignments. Yet, despite being with the agency for a couple of months, Atsushi was still bunching his shoulders together and curling his legs up underneath the seat of his dedicated desk chair. Almost as if he was making himself as small as possible to not get in anyone’s way.
And while shyness could be very sweet, it was about time that his protégé was challenged to approach his life differently.
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Dazai has an unique way of reading the people in his life, but it was about time he put his teaching skills to good use and give a couple of lessons.Series
- Part 2 of dazai, but it's the smiths
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Summary
Atsushi was a curious boy.
The rest of the agency were too, but there was something about Atsushi that made an almost nurturing feeling bubble inside him.
Dazai wasn’t capable of nurturing—his time in the mafia made sure of that—but Atsushi definitely made him want to.
“Yes, Atsushi~” Dazai whirled his head away from the stack of reports he was ignoring in favor of seeing his mentee flush underneath the weight of his attention.
“Oh, I was just wondering…about your, uh…” the boy winced. “Relationship with Chuuya.”
That was bold, even for Atsushi.
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Dazai claims that he hates Chuuya, but is that exactly true when the old memories exist?Series
- Part 3 of dazai, but it's the smiths
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Summary
After huffing and puffing in his dorm room for the last five hours past dawn, Dazai was finally able to drag himself out of the cold confines of his raggedy tatami mat, stumbled a good few dozen kilometers down the road, and forced his body toward the sad, creaky desk with his name plate on it.
He had been working with the ADA for several months now and it was…different than he thought it would be.
Don’t get him wrong, he was so glad to be out of hiding and he could begrudgingly admit that his mental health was a tad bit better—to himself only. That two-faced son of blind bitch doesn’t get that satisfaction—not that he truly cared. He was just there for a couple more years before he got that double suicide he dreamed of.
But as soon as he slumped down in his lumpy office chair, the days became miserable! Absolutely dreadful! Instead of his delightful drunken haze, he had paperwork—yuck!—and cases and work to do! And he was expected to do it each and every day until he died! And his so-called partner with his oh so powerful willpower wouldn’t leave him alone! The horror!
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Dazai and the misery of working at the ADA during his first few months.Series
- Part 4 of dazai, but it's the smiths