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I tried hard to make you want me
But we’re not supposed to be
Atsushi’s first clear memory was of cold rain and burning bruises. A storm had passed over the orphanage, thunder clouds rolling in the sky and dying it black. Atsushi had watched as the darkness blocked out the sun, and he twitched when the first small drop of water fell on his cheek.
All the other children were inside the orphanage already, tucked safely in their rickety old beds. Atsushi had remained outside, a bit further out so he failed to hear the headmaster’s clipped voice calling all the children inside. By the time he realized everyone no longer outside, the door to the orphanage had been locked.
He knew better than to bang on it and scream for the caretakers to come back for him. Atsushi had already faced a beating earlier that day for eating more bread than he was allowed, despite the fact that all the other children had eaten the same amount he had. His arms still ached and dark purple blotches were painted crudely across his alabaster skin, and his face already felt swollen.
The coldness of the rain felt like a blessing on his abused cheeks and he sighed happily, tilting his head up further and leaning back against the orphanage’s door. The muted sound of lightning cracking against the sky only served to relax the boy further, and he closed his eyes.
Streaks of rain poured down his face, soaking his hair and clothes, but he remained still. The wind picked up slightly and blew around him, sending goose bumps down his bare arms and legs, making the pale-haired boy shiver slightly.
The faint bellow of thunder made Atsushi crack his eyes open, only for the boy to flinch when a drop of rain fell directly in his eyes. Blinking, Atsushi reached up to rub his eyes but froze as a hard lump formed in his throat. Swallowing thickly, he gasped and dropped his hands. He felt tired, so so so tired and his body felt like it was still on fire despite the near-freezing water drenching him.
His eyes stung, so he lifted his face up again towards the dark sky and gasped again, sniffing softly. The rain helped to wash away the salty warmth of his tears flowing down his cheeks, but did little to actually stop them.
Atsushi blinked rapidly, choking back a sob; everyone was likely asleep by now, but he knew that if he made a noise, they would know. They would know, and they would find him out in the rain, crying to himself like a selfish brat.
The very thought made his eyes water even more and he had to cover his mouth, muffling the small whimper that escaped his throat. The headmaster hated when any of the orphans would cry, but the man hated Atsushi’s tears the most.
Atsushi realized then that he could not blame the man. Crying was a weakness and a luxury that only those with families who loved them could afford. Atsushi did not have anything as wonderful as a family, and he knew it was because he was a pathetic and ugly child.
His own parents had thrown him away, wrapping him in a black garbage bag before tossing him into a ditch. He knew this because the headmaster had told him, and as horrible as the man was, he never lied. The headmaster never sugar-coated his words and never hid the truth from anyone.
Atsushi hated him for it.
And the truth will always haunt me
Even though it set me free
Atsushi hated a lot. He hated the run down orphanage that smelt of moths and burnt wood; he hated the caretakers who were prejudiced against him even though he did everything he could to make them like him; he hated all the other children who would blame him for deeds he did not do and would mercilessly bully him; he hated the headmaster who would beat him if he so much as made eye contact with the man; he hated all of it.
But most of all, Atsushi realized, he hated himself.
Standing out in the frigid storm, hiding his sorrowful wails and letting the rain disguise his tears, Atsushi despised himself. He was weak, unwanted, and so full of emotions that they tumbled out of him before he could stop them.
Atsushi shivered violently and collapsed onto his knees, huddling in front of the orphanage as he broke down, grateful for the loud pattering of the rain and the constant crashes of thunder and lightning that hid his cries.
His hands wrapped around his sides and he hunched over, his tears pouring down his face faster than the rain. His clothes were completely soaked through at that point, but he did not mind. His body still felt too warm, and the rain was the only thing to ease the pain of his bruises.
For hours, Atsushi remained like that, curled in on himself and sopping wet. The thunder eventually died down, so the boy had to force himself to be silent again, despite the lump in his throat growing.
Eventually, the sky grew lighter as the clouds dissipated and Atsushi sat up, wincing at the soreness in his joints. The sun was rising, and Atsushi numbly realized that had stayed out all night, crying in the rain.
Slowly, he stood up, flinching as his knees and back cracked when he stretched. He felt cold and tired and hungry, but mostly relieved. As much as he hated the orphanage and everyone in it, the fact that he hated himself even more was oddly reassuring.
‘ There is no one else who can ever hate me as much myself.’
The grim thought dug into Atsushi’s mind as he faced the door, raising his fist and knocking gently on the wooden surface.
And my tears flow like the ocean
As they floated in the breeze
The door creaked open and a beady eye squinted down at him. The caretaker huffed and opened the door wider, ushering him inside roughly, frowning in disgust at his soaking state.
“Useless cur, what on earth were you doing outside at this hour, huh? Thought it would be funny to sneak out before breakfast?”
Atsushi followed her silently as she yanked on his wrist, leading him down the hallway to the storage closet.
“Well, don’t think this rebellious and ungrateful attitude of yours is going to go unpunished, wretch.”
The caretaker opened the closet door and shoved him roughly into the small space, ignoring his yelp of pain as several brooms and mops fell on top of him.
“Stay there and reflect on what you’ve done. I’ll be letting the headmaster know about your little adventure. If you move at all, I’ll give you six belt lashings myself.”
With one final glare, the caretaker slammed the closet shut, trapping Atsushi in darkness.
Atsushi remained still in the closet, barely even breathing by the time the headmaster opened the door, staring down at him emotionlessly. The pale-haired boy kept his gaze down, shuffling his feet and shivering. His clothes were still damp and his fingers were numb.
The headmaster clicked his tongue before grabbing Atsushi by the arm and leading him to the other side of the orphanage, where his office resided. Once in the confines of the headmaster’s room, Atsushi felt his shivering slow and his vision swim a bit.
Staggering slightly, Atsushi tried to glance up at the headmaster but his movements were sluggish and his head felt heavy. He dimly noticed a calloused hand resting on his back, leading him towards a large desk. The world shifted as the headmaster picked him up, placing him on the surface off the smooth wood.
Atsushi turned his head, staring sleepily at the headmaster’s white coat as they man moved to take off the boy’s shoes and shirt. Atsushi found he did not care for what the man was doing as his eyelids grew heavier and heavier and his breathing slowed. He felt numb and exhausted, and just wanted to rest.
A strange sensation to his foot yanked Atsushi from his daze and he almost screamed as something incredibly hot touched his skin. He frantically tried to sit up, his arms shaking uncontrollably as he stared at the headmaster, who was dumping water on his feet.
They were falling in slow motion
And they brought me to my knees
The man glanced up and glared at him.
“Sit back down boy. As much as having you die would make my job easier, we have a specific quota to keep and I’d much rather not have to take in anymore spoiled brats.”
Atsushi continued to tremble and yelp as the man soaked his feet in the excruciatingly hot water.
“Hush boy, it’s only warm. Really, ungrateful urchins like you deserve death above all else.”
Despite his harsh words, the headmaster continued to slowly yet diligently force feeling back into Atsushi’s limbs, dipping the boy’s small hands in the tub of water before wrapping him in a thin towel.
Shivering, Atsushi kept his eyes down from the headmaster’s cold gaze, feeling returning to his fingers. His feet still felt unbearably hot and they throbbed almost painfully. The skin from his ankles down was bright red and appeared raw, his toes twitching and curling in slightly.
Pulling the towel around him closer, Atsushi glanced up slowly at the headmaster’s back. He did not expect the man to save him, but then again, they only reason he was even kept alive was because of the quota.
All orphanages in the district had a specific amount of children to keep, and letting so much as a single child die, unwanted or not, would result in harsh repercussions for the entire staff and even the remaining children. Atsushi did not know the exact details of the punishment, but from the whispers he would hear from the caretakers, getting fired would be a mercy.
Atsushi startled slightly when his arm was grabbed roughly. He looked up at the headmaster and suppressed a flinch when the man raised his hand, slapping Atsushi across the cheek. The boy whimpered softly, reaching up to cup his red cheek.
“Get out of my sight, boy,” the headmaster rumbled, unceremoniously tugging Atsushi off his desk and all but throwing the boy on the ground.
Quivering, Atsushi stood up, bowing silently to the headmaster and wobbling out of the room as quickly as he could.
His feet felt numb, but he could still feel the the chill of the cold wood behind him. His hands were more sore than anything, and his cheek throbbed dully. Scuffling quietly along the hall, Atsushi snuck past the kitchen area where all the caretakers and children were eating breakfast.
The faint smell of stale bread and sweet oranges made him feel dizzy and his stomach churn unpleasantly. Frowning, Atsushi slipped further down the hall, finding a small linen closet at the end.
Exhaustion plagued his body and mind and he gently opened the closet door, staring dreamily at the old linen tucked away on the shelves inside. The sheets were stained with age and rarely ever actually used, so Atsushi could find no reason to not give in to his bodily needs and rest.
If he snuck into the sleeping room, then he would most likely be woken up by the caretakers and scolded for sleeping when there were chores to do.
Shutting the door behind him, Atsushi grabbed two sets of sheet and laid them on the ground gently, before grabbing another set and wrapping them around himself. The linen was surprisingly soft and warm, and Atsushi closed his eyes, relaxing his body and breathing.
Sleep found him fast, and Atsushi embraced it with open arms.
- --------------------
A soft tapping on his cheek made Atsushi frown. Sleepily, he raised his hand to try and bat away the sensation on his cheek. A soft chuckle made him crack his eyes open.
Soft evening light filtered in through the windows of the Armed Detective Agency building, illuminating the empty room save for two people. Yawning, Atsushi slowly sat up, stretching out his arms and back. He must have dozed off on the office couch.
“Did you have a nice dream, Atsushi-kun?”
Atsushi turned his head to the remaining person in the office, smiling softly up at the taller man.
“Ah, sorry Dazai-san. What time is it?”
The man tapped his chin in thought, glancing out the windows, “I’d say around five- no, six o’clock?”
Atsushi blushed shamefully, lowering his head.
“I’m sorry you had to stay so late to keep an eye on me…” he whispered.
A bark of laughter made Atsushi jump as he looked up at Dazai, tilting his head in confusion as the man continued to laugh.
“Oh, Atsushi-kun, why are you apologizing?” Dazai chuckled, poking Atsushi’s cheek fondly, “I wanted to wait for you to wake up. You looked really tired these past few days, and you slept so peacefully!”
“You still could have woken me up!” Atsushi groaned in exasperation.
“Absolutely not!” Dazai gasped, “you looked so content, it would have been a crime to have disturbed you. Still though…”
Dazai made a gesture for Atsushi to move over on the couch and sat down next to him.
“You were tossing and turning quite a bit at the end. Was it a nightmare?”
Atsushi shook his head, unable to meet Dazai’s eyes.
“No, nothing like that. You don’t have to concern yourself with it, Dazai-san,” Atsushi smiled softly at the other man.
“Hmm…” Dazai clicked his tongue, “a memory perhaps?”
Atsushi gaped at the other man, “y-yes! How did you know?”
“Well, you see Atsushi-kun, I am very, very, very good,” Dazai smirked proudly, “… at guessing.”
Atsushi let out a soft chuckle.
“Was it of the orphanage again?” Dazai asked, tilting his head to the side curiously.
Faint images of the headmaster and blurred faces flashed through Atsushi’s mind and he nodded, running a hand through his hair. He could almost feel the the residual ache of countless bruises on his body, and his one cheek almost felt hotter than the other.
You’re haunting me, taunting me
All in my brain
“You’re right again, Dazai-san,” Atsushi mumbled, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, hugging them close to his body as if to appear smaller.
The man next to him remained silent for a bit before sighing, suddenly patting Atsushi’s back. Atsushi turned his face towards Dazai, blinking at him owlishly.
“How about we go get some food and drinks and cheer up a bit?” Dazai suggested lightheartedly, standing up.
Atsushi hesitated. He honestly wanted to go home, but he also did not feel like being alone at this time, especially with the memory of nearly freezing to death still raw in his mind.
“Sure, Dazai-san.”
Dazai grinned impishly, yanking Atsushi to his feet and dragging the boy out of the office and down to the street.
“I was thinking some good old styled hayashi rice would be amazing right now,” Dazai turned back to look at Atsushi, “what do you think, Atsushi-kun?”
“Ah, I’ve never actually had hayashi rice, I don’t think…’ he trailed off.
“I think you’d like it; the restaurant also has simple don dishes, so if you’re not sure, you can get something you know you enjoy.”
Atsushi raised his eyebrows.
“Dazai-san, you’re being… uh…”
“Hmm?” Dazai stepped closer to him, his eyes twinkling, “what were you saying Atsushi-kun?”
“Weird.”
Dazai deflated slightly, pouting down at the younger male. Atsushi waved his hands quickly, worried he had offended his superior.
“I-I mean! You're being weirdly nice today!”
Turn off the light and now all that remains
Fills me with doubt
Dazai blinked before turning around, his coat swaying behind him.
“I’m always this nice, Atsushi-kun! I’m hurt you would think anything else,” Dazai’s voice was light despite his words, and he sounded like he was on the verge of laughter again.
Atsushi let out a hesitant chuckle.
They continued to walk down the street, silent save for Dazai’s soft whistling that would drop a tune and then pick it up again seemingly at random. There were still several crowds of people hanging aimlessly around street shops and crosswalks, though nowhere near the amount that usually hung about during the middle of the day.
Young girls dressed in pristine sailor uniforms bustled about, carrying their bags over their shoulders and laughing loudly amongst themselves; businessmen in sleek suits and shining shoes, looking haggard and tired as they headed downtown for a couple of drinks; the occasional elderly woman passing by, hunched over her cane and walking slowly across the road, holding up traffic until some dashing young man decides to help her cross to the other side; Yokohama was lively at this hour, and would soon light up as the sun set.
Atsushi stretched out his arms, enjoying the chill evening breeze as it ruffled his hair and sent goose bumps across his arms.
A flash of pale colour in the corner of his vision distracted Atsushi and he turned slightly, his eyes widening in shock at the familiar mop of brown hair and stiff white coat of a man a few feet behind him.
A knot formed in his throat and Atsushi stopped walking, his palms growing clammy. The man turned slightly, allowing Atsushi to see his face. Relief washed through him at the unfamiliar jagged nose and pudgy cheeks.
“Atsushi-kun?”
Flinching, Atsushi swivelled around to find Dazai watching him with a curious expression. Shaking his head and wiping his sweaty hands on his pants, Atsushi sheepishly scratched his cheek.
“Sorry, Dazai-san, I thought I saw someone I knew,” his voice cracked at the end and Atsushi winced.
Dazai raised his eyebrows, looking over Atsushi’s shoulder as if searching for whoever Atsushi had saw.
“Who?” Dazai placed his hand over his brow, squinting.
And I’m shouting your name out loud
Why do you wanna put me through the pain?
“No one important, really. Please don’t worry about it,” Atsushi waved his hands in front of the other man frantically, hoping to deter his attention away from the man who so eerily and painfully resembled the headmaster of the orphanage.
Dazai hummed, pouting a bit.
“Are you positive?”
Atsushi relaxed, nodding his head.
“Yes.”
Suddenly Dazai’s face was right in front of him and he jumped back slightly. The other man seemed to be scrutinizing him, glaring at his face. Atsushi gulped.
“W-what’s wrong…?”
“You know, Atsushi-kun, you rub and scratch at your neck when you’re stressed.”
Okay, that was unexpected. Atsushi stared up at Dazai in bewilderment.
“Wha…?”
Dazai held up one slim finger, effectively silencing the younger boy.
“It seems you do in unconsciously, but it truly is a bad habit. There are days when you rub your neck so hard it turns raw, or you scratch is so hard it turns red. Have you truly not noticed?” Dazai stared at him unblinkingly, making the boy shift quietly on his feet.
In truth, he had not noticed any such action. His ability usually healed any scrap or rash he may have gotten instantly, so he supposedly it was no surprise that any rawness or scratch marks left anywhere on his body would have faded in mere seconds. If Atsushi paid attention to every single little injury he got, he would be too busy wondering where they came from that it would drive him crazy, metaphorically speaking.
In the orphanage, Atsushi had quickly gotten used to being covered in wounds, whether they were bruises, scratches, cuts, or even broken limbs. It was natural to assume that he grew used to minor injuries, and that habitualization carried over from his adolescence to the present.
“I-I never noticed…” he lowered his head slightly.
He heard a soft sigh and felt a warm hand brush against his forehead.
“My, my, you seem to have quite the fever, Atsushi-kun,” Dazai mused, frowning slightly, “maybe a rich dinner isn’t the best thing right now. How about we have dinner at my place instead?”
Atsushi opened his mouth to protest but no sound came out. He did feel incredibly tired, and he wanted nothing more than to lay down and go back to sleep.
“When we get back, maybe then you can tell me what’s really going on,” Dazai flicked Atsushi’s forehead before gently grabbing the boy’s wrist and leading him in the opposite direction of where they were originally headed.
Dread grew in his stomach at the thought of telling his superior about his silly little nightmare and how he thought he had seen a glimpse of a man who he would never see again, However, Atsushi found that at that moment he had no strength to resist as the other man lead him through the semi-crowded streets.
I get the feeling I’ll never escape
I can’t hide away from the shame of you
The trip to Dazai’s apartment was a blur to Atsushi. Somewhere along the way, his head had started to swim and it took all of his willpower to not slump against Dazai as the man fished his keys out of his coat, unlocking the door and loudly exclaiming “I’m home!” to an empty room.
Atsushi was guided into a small matted room, bare except for a single futon rolled up in the corner and small coffee table in the center.
“I don’t really like decorating to be honest,” Dazai explained as Atsushi glanced around the room, “it takes far too long and I have everything necessary already.”
“Doesn’t that feel lonely though?” Atsushi asked, slowly sitting down in front of the small table.
“I guess to some, maybe. But I’m quite used to it. Plus, there’s less for me to clean up this way,” Dazai hummed as he disappeared into another room.
The sound of glass clinking and running water meant he must have been in the kitchen, Atsushi surmised. A few minutes later, Dazai returned carrying two mugs full of steaming liquid.
“I put some honey in it. Hopefully that will make you perk up a bit,” Dazai explained as he handed Atsushi a mug.
The soft scent of citrus was pleasant, and Atsushi eagerly took a sip of the beverage. It was sweet like lemons and honey, with a touch of ginger added. The liquid burnt his tongue but Atsushi even found the pain of the heat pleasant as his head cleared slightly.
“What is this?” he asked, glancing over at Dazai who had taken a seat across from him.
“Dazai-sama’s Special Lightning Quick Wake-me-up Lemon Tea!” Dazai answered, smiling triumphantly, “It’s a tea brew that I made myself after drinking some boring old Citrus tea. It does wonders for nausea and headaches as well.”
“Such a long name,” Atsushi chuckled, taking another small sip.
“Indeed, but that’s what makes it unique,” Dazai intoned, setting his own mug down and looking at Atsushi seriously.
Atsushi gulped and followed suit, gingerly placing his mug on the table. Hopefully Dazai would not push him too much, or would drop the subject quickly. Of course, Atsushi did not have the best luck in the world, a sinking realization he found when Dazai asked the first question:
“Atsushi-kun, who did you see?”
There were countless answers to that; Atsushi remembered seeing the school girls and the businessmen, the old woman and the kind young man. One look up at Dazai’s face however showed that he would not accept any of those answers.
Sighing, Atsushi reached up, brushing his hand against his neck before stopping realization. Why was it that people only noticed habits after they were pointed out by others?
“I thought… I thought I saw the headmaster,” he whispered, staring down at his hands.
They had started to sweat again.
Dazai remained silent, a sign for Atsushi to continue. So he did.
“I… the dream I had was a strange memory I had back in the orphanage,” he began, still not daring to look up, “I was playing outside one day and didn’t hear the caretaker calling everyone inside. They ended up locking me out of the orphanage, which happened a lot, but it was raining and storming pretty badly that day.
“They didn’t let me in until morning, but… being out there all night, all by myself with nothing but the rain, it… it made me think. It made me think a lot.
“When I was let back inside, I guess I was suffering from hypothermia because I remember being really tired and numb, and the headmaster he…. He took me into his office and saved my life, essentially.”
Atsushi took a shaky breath, curling and uncurling his hands in his lap.
“I think that was the first time the headmaster ever did something like that. I was so confused at the time, and I still kind of am. I guess that memory sort of… affected my mind more than I thought, so I mistakenly thought I saw the headmaster…”
He trailed, unsure of what to say. Dazai remained quiet for a few seconds before placing his elbows on the table, resting his chin in his hand as he watched Atsushi.
“What did you think about?”
Atsushi finally glanced up.
“What?”
“What did you think about while you were out in the storm?” Dazai’s voice was soft, as if he did not want to scare the other boy.
“I… I, uh.. a lot um…” Atsushi did not know where to begin.
The question made him uncomfortable, but maybe telling someone, anyone, would help him to move on from what happened. He would never be able to forget, and this memory was just one of many, many other negative experiences he had in his past, but maybe just getting over one would aid him in becoming stronger.
With that thought in mind, he lowered his head again and began to speak once more.
When did you lose your emotion?
When did you become so cruel?
“Dazai-san have you ever wanted to die…?” He knew it was a dumb question before it even left his mouth.
“Of course I have, Atsushi-kun. Why do you think I try to commit suicide so often?” Dazai sighed.
“No, I mean… Have you ever wanted to die, not because you’re sick of the world,” Atsushi raised his head finally, meeting Dazai’s eyes, “but because you’re sick of yourself? Because you can’t stand who you are?”
The man remained silent, his eyes growing darker as Atsushi’s question sunk in.
“I realized that I wanted to die out there. I wanted to stop breathing, stop feeling, just… I wanted to stop. Everything. I-I didn’t want to keep on going like that. I mean, at the time I didn’t really pay attention to those thoughts, I just thought I was hating myself, which was something I did a lot, and… and still do, um…”
Atsushi trailed off slightly, wetting his lips.
“I really, really don’t like who I am, Dazai-san. I mean, I want to live. I enjoy living but… there are so many times where I wish that the headmaster had just let me die. That he wasn’t so cruel in forcing me to stay alive. I wish the caretakers had just left me out there, and I wish the headmaster never saved me.”
His vision started to blur and Atsushi blinked, numbly noticing the wetness on his cheeks. He rubbed his eyes, breaking off eye contact with Dazai as he tried to slow down his tears.
“I’m so grateful for everything that’s happened to me since I joined the Agency, since you found me but… there are times where I really wish you didn’t. Sometimes, I wish you had just left me there to starve, and I know that’s not fair to you at all considering you went out of your way to help me but… but I can’t help it…!”
Atsushi was openly sobbing now, his shoulders shaking as he gasped. All the bitterness he felt towards the orphanage, all the hurt and pain he felt gathered in his chest, forming a lump in his throat but he could not stop talking.
“There are days where I find myself thinking ‘if I disappeared, would it matter? If I died, would anyone care?’ and I know- I know that’s so selfish and stupid of me to think but I can’t help it! I just… I can’t control how I think and I want it to stop, I want it all to stop, but I’m also scared of what will happen if it does!
“I want to stop hating myself, but I can’t… I want to stop being me but I can’t… I don’t know what to do anymore…! I don’t want to die, but at the same time I can’t help thinking that it’d be better for everyone if I did!“
The lump in his throat stopped Atsushi from continuing.
And if you want to cut me open
Says a thousand words about you
He curled in on himself, pulling his knees up and burying his face in them. Thankfully, Dazai seemed intent on waiting for him to calm down before saying anything.
Atsushi did not know how long he spent like that, wrapped up in some awkward ball shape and crying messily into his knees. He felt his breathing hitch and eventually slow down. Tears continued to run down his face, but they mostly seem to come from the pain of his eyes being so raw.
The sound of shuffling across from him made Atsushi still as he felt his stomach drop. Dazai was moving closer to him, and Atsushi did not think he could handle anything the man had to say at this moment.
“Is there a reason you hated yourself back then?” Dazai whispered.
Atsushi shook his head, whether to answer Dazai’s question or to try and clear his thoughts, he did not know.
“I guess… I guess it was because everyone else hated me. I thought that there must have been a reason why they treated me like I was so much less than all the other children. Even the younger kids would mock me. Everything the caretakers would say and do, the other kids would copy.
“I began to realize that maybe they weren’t wrong in hating me. Maybe I really was just as horrible as they all thought. After all, my own parents threw me away. There must have been something wrong with me for them to do so. That’s when it started, I suppose; the more I dwelled on it, the clearer the answer became.”
Dazai nodded, his expression solemn.
“Then, do you hate yourself now because of the same reason?”
Atsushi went quiet for a few moments, sniffing softly.
“Yes and no. I know now that that place was awful, and that the kids were only doing what they could in hopes of pleasing the caretakers and headmaster. I can’t fault them for following the only examples they had, you know? As for the caretakers and headmaster, I’ll never forgive them; who on earth could ever stand to treat a child so cruelly?” Atsushi exhaled, relaxing his hold around his knees.
“Still, the headmaster always knew what I really was since the beginning, and it’s natural to hate a monster. Maybe the caretakers followed him just like the orphans followed them. I don’t know,” there were dark splotches on his pants, making them look filthy and Atsushi frowned deeply, “but no matter the excuse, I’ll never forgive them.”
“Atsushi-kun…” Dazai sighed softly, looking at Atsushi with gentle eyes, “what they did was absolutely unforgivable, and they had no reason to hate you other than cruelty. Knowing and understanding that, why do you still feel such resentment to yourself?”
Rubbing the back of his neck, Atsushi grimaced. It was a reasonable question, but he found he had no answer to give to the other man.
And in time I know you’ll leave me
Like a distant memory
“Atsushi-kun, if I may give my own opinion,” Dazai leaned back slightly, “I think you value life too much to ever die. Even if you feel like dying, and want nothing more than to end it, you won’t ever actually follow through.”
Atsushi swallowed thickly. Dazai was not wrong; after all, Atsushi was still there, still breathing, his heart still pumping rapidly, his lungs still taking in and expelling air.
“In this present day and age, it’s not uncommon to feel like you want die,” Dazai continued, tapping his finger on the table, “suicide rates are at an all time high compared to what they were only a decade ago, depression is increasingly common, and people are becoming more and more aware of the beautiful allure and freedom that death can offer.
“However, as a suicide advocate and your superior, I can say that a very, very large majority of people who attempt and fail to commit suicide ended up regretting that they ever tried in the first place. Now, that doesn’t apply to me of course, but sometimes dying can bring about more regrets than living.”
Dazai reached across the table, placing his hand gently on top of Atsushi’s head. The boy flinched slightly from the man’s touch.
“I don’t think you’ll kill yourself, but if you ever feel like dying, don’t be afraid to tell me, or anyone else in the Agency. We may not be able to do much, but I can guarantee that everyone cares for you, Atsushi-kun. If you can’t bring yourself to live for just you, then try living for us, okay?”
Atsushi bit the inside of his lip, feeling his throat close up.
“Isn’t that a bit hypocritical coming from you?” he rasped, smiling weakly when Dazai withdrew his hand quickly, looking offended.
“Atsushi-kun! I am hurt that you would call me such a thing!” he gasped, clutching his head as if in despair.
“It’s true though,” the boy sniffed once more, swiping his hand under his nose.
Dazai frowned before relenting, dropping his hands and adopting a more serious tone.
“The only person who can make you stop hating yourself is, well, yourself. Atsushi-kun, you say that you know that what was done to you in the orphanage was horrible and that you didn’t deserve it, but I don’t think you fully understand how wrong of them it was. The fact that you still feel resentment towards yourself because of them is proof.”
Each word that Dazai said made Atsushi’s stomach flip unpleasantly. Of course he knew how bad they were to him, and he knew that no one ever deserved to be treated like he and so many other orphans were.
“Your hatred of those who have wronged you is weighing you down, Atsushi-kun,” Dazai did not even flinch when the boy slammed his fist down on the table, glaring up at him.
“Then are you saying that I should just forget about it?!” he hissed, ignoring the new found pain as he clenched his fist tighter, his nails poking into his skin.
He knew he was being unreasonable, but at the same time, his emotions felt out of whack, he was exhausted and tired and just wanted to sleep, and somehow Dazai’s usual exotic voice was starting to irritate him.
“No, I did not say that. Nor am I asking that you forgive them,” the man continued on, supposedly oblivious to Atsushi’s inner turmoil, “Atsushi-kun, you can’t keep letting what happened control your life. Your entire childhood was messed up, and that’s something that you can never get back or fix. However, that does not mean that you should let the negatives from the past continue to be negative in the future. Remember that you are alive, here and now, because of them.”
Dazai sighed, turning his head to the side and staring out a small window Atsushi had not noticed before. His eyes glazed over slightly and he appeared wistful as he watched the dark sky, the sun now completely set.
“You should turn all your regrets and emotions from your past into fuel and motivation for your present and future. Don’t forgive, and don’t forget, but let go. It’s okay to let go,” Dazai’s voice was incredibly quiet, almost as if he was whispering just loud enough for Atsushi to hear.
The boy slumped forwards, resting his arms and head on the table, unclenching his fist to stare blankly at the crescent-shaped indents on the meat of his palm.
I know love can be so easy
If I start by loving me
“I don’t know how, Dazai-san,” he murmured.
“That’s something you have to learn for yourself, Atsushi-kun,” Dazai kept the dreamy look in his eyes as he turned back to Atsushi, observing the boy.
“But how? How does anyone learn that?” his eyelids felt heavy and his head was pounding; Atsushi wanted nothing more than to sleep, but Dazai was trying to help him, and it would be rude of him to doze off when the man was offering advice, cryptic as it was.
“I’m not so sure myself,” Dazai let out a dry chuckle at that, shifting his body so he was laying back on his elbows, “but I think the best first step is to look at yourself now and all that have. You should think to yourself ‘right here, right now, I’m happy.’ Everyone can be happy, even if they’ve experienced nothing but pain their entire lives.
“Atsushi-kun, are you happy? Maybe not right now, but are you happy here, with the Agency?”
Atsushi blinked, fighting to keep his eyes open.
“I… I… yes, I am,” he breathed softly, “Everyone is so kind, and they don’t treat me like a monster. I have warm clothes and food and a roof to sleep under.”
“When you think about everyone, are you happy?”
Atsushi nodded sluggishly, “yes, I am.”
“Then focus on that. Think about what makes you happy, and once you’ve mastered that, you can move on to step two.”
“What’s step two?”
Dazai grinned humourlessly, pressing his lips into a thin curved line.
“That’s for you to figure out. Everyone has a different step two.”
The way Dazai seemed so forlorn, so distracted by his own thoughts, made Atsushi remember that the man before him used to be part of a cruel and deadly organization, and he was no low ranking member either. Thoughts of the Port Mafia made a foul taste rise in Atsushi’s mouth. Dazai was there once, witnessing first hand the corruption and crimes made by the Mafia; he most likely even orchestrated and committed unspeakable atrocities himself.
The knowledge that his superior probably had a darker and much crueller past than himself suddenly made Atsushi feel insignificant. Gazing at Dazai, with his shoulders hunched forwards with infinite weight of regrets that he would never speak of, Atsushi felt childish and small.
Still, the stinging bite of curiously piqued at him and Atsushi gulped silently.
“And… what about you, Dazai-san?” he whispered, his voice shaking, “what was your step two?”
The man remained silent for a few moments, and Atsushi was starting to think that he did not hear him when Dazai spoke up, his voice cutting smoothly through the tense atmosphere.
“Doing what I thought was right.”
The answer was simple. That was the point, Atsushi realized.
“Are you happy, Dazai-san?” he asked.
“Sometimes yes, sometimes no,” Dazai shrugged, “but I’m happier now than I was.”
“And yet you still want to die?”
“My reason for wanting to die is very different from your self-loathing, Atsushi-kun. I’m simply tired of living without a reason.”
Atsushi remained silent after that. Reflecting upon it now, Dazai and the Agency were his reasons for living, but Dazai was different from him. Even with coworkers and friends who cared for him, the man still wanted to die.
It was foolish for Atsushi to think that maybe Dazai felt the same as him, but at least Dazai was here with him now, providing comfort with his words and mere presence.
“I hope you find a reason then, Dazai-san,” Atsushi mumbled, far too quiet for Dazai to hear as he finally closed his eyes, letting his mind surrender to the exhaustion that usually followed emotional breakdowns.
“Atsushi-kun,” the familiar warmth of Dazai’s hand on his head did little to rouse Atsushi, “you’re not a monster. You’re my subordinate, and I know that you can move on; you can get over this, over them.”
The hand disappeared and Atsushi finally gave in to sleep.
When Atsushi awoke the next morning, his back ached and he had a large red mark on his face left from resting on the table, but he felt satisfied. Dazai was sitting across from him, flipping through some newspaper.
“Morning, Atsushi-kun,” Dazai chirped, smiling widely.
“Ah.. morning Dazai-san,” he yawned, stretching out his arms.
“Did you sleep well?” Dazai asked, setting his paper down.
Atsushi nodded, “yes, I did.”
“That’s good then.”
Atsushi grinned shyly, meeting Dazai’s eyes.
“Dazai-san?”
“Yes, Atsushi-kun?”
“Thank you.”
Tears on the ground, tears on my pillow
You won’t bring me down
I’ll get over you
Rain at my window, the pain washes out
I’ll get over you