Chapter Text
The urgent, hushed tone with which Dazai greeted him that morning wasn’t the best thing to wake up to. But after all the things Dazai did for him, the least he could do was help him in turn.
Atsushi’s grip tightened around his new cell phone as he grasped the handle of one of the dorm’s doors. He tried his best not to shake with nerves and to even out his breathing.
“Now… Open the door!”
“Dazai-san!” Atsushi cried, bursting in.
“Ya, Atsushi-kun,” Dazai greeted, waving the paw of the cat in his lap. His voice was too peppy to have seconds ago instructed him in ominous, low tones as though he was in danger.
Oda didn’t even flinch at his entrance despite being so close to the door when Atsushi barged in.
“Good morning. Come in and have breakfast.”
Atsushi’s face burned with embarrassment and he rushed to bow in clumsy apology.
“S-sorry! I’m so sorry!”
“Don’t worry about. Come in and sit,” Oda dismissed, scooping some rice into a bowl.
“T-then, o… ojamashimasu…”
Atsushi took off his shoes and tiptoed his way towards the low table like the tatami had bombs beneath it, wary of causing any more trouble. He didn’t want to so much as walk the wrong way after his rude arrival.
A broad smile spread across Dazai’s face as he watched Atsushi join him at the table
“Relax! Odasaku won’t bite,” he laughed as Atsushi gingerly lowered himself to sit.
“Um… Dazai-san,” Atsushi leaned towards Dazai and held a hand to the side of his mouth, “you said it was an emergency,” he hissed.
“It is to Odasaku,” Dazai hummed, using both the cat’s paws to gesture as he talked. “Your stick-like thinness, sickly paleness of a jellyfish—”
A jellyfish…
“—your pathetic kicked cat look—”
Pathetic kicked cat look?
“—not to mention you’re from an orphanage; it’s enough to give Odasaku heart palpitations, so of course he’ll make you breakfast!”
“Uh… huh…”
What did that mean?
A mouth-watering tray of food placed in front of him distracted Atsushi from Dazai. It was laden with rice, salmon, miso soup, steamed vegetables, dried seaweed, and a boiled egg.
He almost lost himself to the sight of a warm, delicious meal, the aroma sending him into a temporary fantasy. He snapped out of it when he remembered who gave him the meal in the first place.
“T-thank you!”
Oda nodded as he set another tray in front of Dazai. He made one more trip to the kitchen before sitting down with two pieces of toast and a cup of coffee.
“No need to thank me. It wasn’t any trouble.” He gestured to the tray. “I didn’t know what you liked, so I hope you don’t mind.”
“N-no! This is good! I’ve never had such a big breakfast before!” Atsushi assured, gazing at the rice bowl and remembering mornings when he’d only have that to eat if he was lucky. The worst days were when he didn’t get anything to eat at all.
Oda frowned and panic zipped through his chest.
“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I won’t touch anything except the rice! Or at least let me have the egg—”
“Atsushi.”
Atsushi stopped.
Oda’s voice was firm yet gentle, assuring him that he wasn’t angry and the tension leaked from Atsushi’s body.
“No one is going to deny you food. If you’re hungry, eat. If you’re not, don’t. But you’ll never go hungry again.”
Oda sounded so solemn and looked so serious as he said it that Atsushi felt himself believe those words. He bit his lip to prevent the surge of emotions from manifesting as any more than a prickle of heat in his behind his eyes.
“Uwaah, Odasaku’s protective mode awoke,” Dazai giggled, stroking a patch of black fur.
“Wash your hands before you eat,” Oda told him, unfazed as he took a bite of toast.
“Yes, yes, whatever Odasaku says,” Dazai sighed, putting aside the black and white cat and standing up.
Atsushi choked on his spit when Dazai kissed the top of Oda’s head as he passed, winking at Atsushi as he went. Atsushi stared after Dazai for a long moment, mouth gaping.
“What’s wrong? If you don’t like the food, I can make something else.”
Atsushi swiveled to Oda, who peered at him with a slight frown of worry and he shook his head vigorously.
“No! Everything’s fine! Itadakimasu!” Atsushi squeaked and buried himself in his breakfast.
Was that normal? Oda acted like it was, so it probably was. Still… He didn’t see anything. He didn’t see anything. He didn’t see anything!
“Oh! It's delicious!” he exclaimed with the first bite of fish.
“Once you finish breakfast, we’ll take you to the Agency,” Dazai said, breezing into the room again.
Atsushi’s stomach dropped, his appetite going along with it. He put down his chopsticks and bowl. He couldn’t bear to look them in the eye so he stared down at his hands instead, clutching the fabric of his pants.
“About that… Everyone, or at least, the private investigators; they’re all ability-users, right?”
“Yes,” Oda confirmed.
Atsushi worried his lip for a moment before quietly confessing, “I don’t think I can join.”
Dazai blinked, faintly surprised.
“But you’re gifted.”
“Yes, I can turn into a tiger, but I can’t control that. That’s why…” Atsushi’s heart twisted, reluctant to say it, but he forced himself to anyway, “I don’t think I’ll be any use to the Agency.” He stood and bowed. “I’m sorry. I really appreciate the offer, though.”
He was so stupid. This was his chance to pick up his life, and the people were so kind to him. He didn’t want to reject them, but it wasn’t fair to them if he stayed. He didn’t want to be a burden.
“Hmm… So what’re you going to do from now on?” Dazai asked.
Atsushi straightened, forcing his mouth into a smile.
“I think I’ll look for a job I can actually do, though it won’t be easy to find.”
Dazai leaned forward, propping his chin in his hand.
“I have an idea for a potential job.”
The shot of surprise and hope shook Atsushi to the core.
“Really?”
Dazai smiled.
“Sure! I can help you get it, if you want.”
Atsushi beamed. Not all was lost then!
“Thank you so much!”
“Before that, you should finish eating,” Oda spoke up, sipping his coffee. “The food’s getting cold.”
“Ah, yes! Sorry.”
Atsushi sat back down.
“Dazai, don’t feed Soukoku your food,” Oda mumbled around his toast.
Dazai pouted and Atsushi tried to peek under the table as discreetly as he could. He didn’t see the cat, but he caught a glimpse of movement. How did Oda know without even looking? Maybe it’d become so routine that he could just tell? Did they live together?
The questions reeled through his head through breakfast and the clean-up afterwards. As they headed out the door, Oda held out what seemed to be a small, rectangular box wrapped in green cloth.
“What’s this?” Atsushi asked, accepting the package and tilting it in his hands. No sound or movement came from it.
“Why, it’s bento, of course! Made with Odasaku’s love!” Dazai crowed, accepting his own bento.
“Eh? B-But you didn’t have to go through so much trouble just for me!” Atsushi protested.
“So you don’t want it? Then I’ll gladly take it,” Dazai said cheerfully, reaching for the the wrapped box.
Atsushi wrapped his arms protectively around his lunch and shook his head.
“No, that’s not what I meant! I mean, I’m very grateful to Oda-san for making this for me. Thank you.”
“Dazai, stop it,” Oda huffed, opening the door.
“Um… Didn’t Oda-san make one for himself?” Atsushi asked, noticing that Oda wasn’t carrying his own bento.
“Odasaku doesn’t usually cook for himself. Don’t worry about it,” Dazai dismissed, heading out the door as well.
Was that really alright? It left an uncomfortable feeling in Atsushi not being able to return the gesture of kindness. He resolved to repay this in some way someday but when they met Kunikida on the street, all thoughts of lunch and recompense vanished for the moment.
---
The encounter with Port Mafia opened Atsushi’s eyes to the reality of his situation. Of course there was no way something as good as the Agency could happen to him. When was he going to wake up?
“Atsushi?”
Atsushi snapped out of his thoughts and looked up at Oda’s voice tinged with concern.
“O-Oda-san, hello.”
There was a slight furrow in his brow as Oda came up to his bedside and sat on the chair Kunikida had abandoned earlier.
“I heard what happened from Dazai. Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine!” Atsushi assured, injecting as much cheer as he could. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
He sweated a little under Oda’s scrutiny, made worse by his unreadable expression. Still, he kept up the smile regardless, hoping to convince Oda that he was alright.
“I’m glad you’re okay.”
The sincerity rang clear even in Oda’s flat baritone.
“I… Uh…” Atsushi swallowed. “Thanks.”
He fidgeted with the blanket under the gap of conversation, the slight awkwardness jittering his fingers.
“Atsushi, was there something bothering you?”
Atsushi’s attention snapped back to Oda.
“Wha-What makes you say that?” he squeaked.
“After Kunikida left, you seemed troubled is all.”
Atsushi’s fingers curled into the blanket.
“Oh… Um…” He forced a laugh. “I’m fine, really. I guess I was just in a bit of shock.”
Oda regarded him for a moment and Atsushi knew he didn’t buy it. Nonetheless he said, “If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. I know it’s not easy to open up to strangers, but I hope you’ll come to us if there’s anything troubling you.”
“N-No! Not at all! You’ve all been so nice…”
But there was no way he could talk to anyone about this. Atsushi didn’t want to be more of a problem than he already was.
“Alright. If you’re feeling better, why don’t you get dressed and join me in the office?”
“Okay.”
Oda brought his shoes and clothes over, folded into a neat pile, and handed them over. Once Atsushi was dressed, he followed Oda out of the ward and back into the main office. It was empty, for some reason.
“Um… Oda-san? Where is everyone?”
“Almost everyone is out on their own errands. I’m the only one here right now,” Oda replied, going up to one of the desks and pulling out the seat. “For now, I’ll show you some of the work we do.”
Oda said that like Atsushi was staying, like it was only a matter of course to keep someone with a seven billion yen bounty around. How could it not matter, though? But Atsushi didn’t know how to tell Oda these things so he stiffly made his way over and sat on the chair at Oda’s gesture.
Several minutes into his orientation, a distant but loud boom thundered from outside the window, sending a faint tremor through the room. Atsushi’s head snapped up in alarm.
“What was that?” he cried, jumping from his seat.
A thick cloud of black smoke bloomed over the buildings.
Oda frowned as he gazed at the plume of smoke.
“Most likely, it’s the mafia.”
Atsushi swiveled to Oda.
“The mafia?” he gasped. “The mafia was the one who did that?”
He knew he sounded strained but he couldn’t help it. What if the mafia decided to blow up the Agency too? No, it was too risky for him to continue to stay here. He had to leave. Now.
“Where are you going?” Oda questioned when Atsushi went to gather his bag.
“I’m sorry, Oda-san. I can’t stay here anymore. Thanks for taking care of me until now.”
“Why can’t you stay?”
Atsushi squeezed the strap of his bag in both hands as he turned to Oda.
“The mafia is after me. If I stay, I’ll put you all in danger!”
“Was this what you were worrying about earlier?” Oda asked, walking up to him.
There’s no use hiding it now.
“Yes,” Atsushi muttered, eyes cast towards the floor.
Movement caught the edge of his eye and Atsushi looked up in time to see Oda slowly reaching toward him. For a flickering second, Atsushi wondered if he was going to hit him, but the hand settled gently on his head instead, startling him.
Oda’s hand was large and warm. It was the first time Atsushi experienced a gesture of affection in a way other than as an onlooker.
It was pleasant and Atsushi bathed in the feel of it. Nonetheless, a small part of him remained tense for the moment Oda’s fingers would curl in his hair and yank. Atsushi tried to quash it. Oda wouldn’t do that. He fed him when he didn’t have to and he was trying to comfort him now. Oda wouldn’t do that.
“The mafia isn’t something to mess with, but the Agency is just as strong,” Oda said calmly.
“But the mafia is so much bigger and it’s powerful. How could you stand up to them?”
Just thinking of it made fear and unease grip him. He didn’t want to see someone as kind as Oda dead.
“Why don’t you stay a little longer and see what I mean?”
Everything in Atsushi still told him to flee and protect the people at the Agency, but a selfish corner of him urged him to stay.
Seeming to sense his hesitation, Oda said, “If you still want to leave, I won’t stop you, but what will you do once you’re on the run? Do you know how the mafia will move? Even if you evade them, how long will you run?”
“Forever if I have to,” Atsushi replied, determination steeling his voice.
“You might not mind that, but that’s not what I want for you.”
Atsushi’s heart stuttered, surprised.
The hand ruffled through his hair before retracting. Atsushi missed it, as childish as that was.
“Running away won’t solve this problem. Everyone in the Agency has the ability to protect themselves and each other, but you won’t know unless you see it. So will you stay?”
Atsushi still wasn’t sure. He wanted to believe in what Oda said, but he was too scared to hope.
“I…”
Footsteps sounded against the floor and Ranpo strode in towards his desk from the direction of the office kitchen, sipping from a glass soda bottle. Atsushi watched as he sat down with a satisfied sigh and peered into the neck of the bottle where the marble rattled around.
“U-um…”
The door to the medical ward opened and Yosano stepped out, stretching with a yawn.
“Ah, nothing like a good surgery. I see you’re helping the new kid around the office. Good for you, Odasaku-kun.”
Oda nodded in reply.
Yosano looked around the almost empty room and spotting Ranpo, headed over to chat. Not long after, the entrance to the office opened and Kunikida walked in followed by a bouncing Kenji.
“Hi, Odasaku-san!” Kenji greeted with a wave. “And um… Atsushi was it? Hi!”
“Hello!” Atsushi greeted in turn with a small bow.
“Hello, Oda-san. Showing the brat around, huh?” Kunikida narrowed his eyes. “Hey brat, don’t give Oda-san any trouble. He’s a good, hardworking worker and if he quits, no one’s going to be there to deal with that guy.”
There was no question about who Kunikida was referring to.
“So listen to whatever he says.”
“I will,” Atsushi promised.
Kunikida nodded in approval.
“Then I won’t keep you.”
He drifted over to Ranpo’s desk as well along with Kenji.
His opportunity to leave gone, Atsushi could only hold his breath and wait and pray that things would be okay. He returned to his orientation with Oda, but he couldn’t concentrate on anything told to him no matter how hard he tried.
A short stretch of time passed before the door burst off its frame with a loud bang. A group of men in black suits crowded in, pointing machine guns at them.
Atsushi’s heart leapt to his throat. The mafia was here! They were going to kill them all!
The old man at the front opened his mouth to speak and Atsushi only had time to call an aborted, “Wa—” before Oda shoved him to the floor. From underneath his coat, he drew two guns and fired.
The men didn’t have a chance to react before their weapons were shot out of their hands.
Oda sped up to them, firing a few shots as he went. He knocked the first few men out as the rest of the mafia members began to get a grip of themselves. He dodged out of the way of a knife swipe and disarmed the wielder with a sharp twist then buried his fist into the stomach of someone else.
Atsushi watched Oda fight in amazement.
“Heh, not taking any chances with Atsushi-kun around, huh?” Yosano noted in amusement, cracking her knuckles.
What did she mean?
“Hey, save some for us!” she continued on as she took down several men aiming for her.
Kenji ran after her in excited glee as though he was joining a game of ball at the park and not a fight with dangerous mafia members. Ranpo rounded his desk and sat on its surface like it was a front row seat at the movie theater.
“It’s a good thing Oda-san was here this time. Those guns would’ve caused a lot of damage. Don’t they have any consideration?” Kunikida clucked, shaking his head. “Looks like we avoided the worst-case scenario.”
Seeing his look of disbelief, Kunikida scowled, casually flipping a charging mafia member over his shoulder.
“It costs money to fix, you know! And our budget isn’t infinite! Now help us wipe these guys out!”
Atsushi wasn’t sure what Kunikida expected him to do with no combat experience, but five minutes later, all the mafia members lay scattered about the office like human confetti.
“So what should we do with them, Kunikida-san?” Kenji asked, looking proud of his work.
“Throw them out the window,” Kunikida replied, clipped.
“Roger!”
Atsushi watched in dumbfounded awe as Kenji proceeded to drag the mafia members towards the window and do just that. In some ways, the Agency was scarier than the mafia.
Atsushi glanced at Oda.
He was right. The Agency was just as strong if not stronger.
Catching his eyes on him, Oda turned and said, “You’re part of the Agency now. You’re not alone.”
Not alone… Was this what it felt like to not be alone?
It wasn’t until he felt a hand ruffling his hair again that Atsushi realized he was crying. Hot embarrassment raced up his chest and he turned away to wipe away the tears. The problem with doing that was he turned to the rest of the room instead.
“Is he crying?” Kunikida asked incredulously. “Why’re you crying? Did that scare you this much? You’ve already met with worse. Oda-san, you shouldn’t coddle him so much. How is he supposed to function in the real world like that?”
“It’s not about that!” Atsushi protested vehemently.
The elevator dinged while Kenji dragged the last man towards the window. He tossed him out tumbling down the side of the building as Dazai appeared in the door-less entryway.
“Odasaku! It’s lunchtime!” he sang, holding up a paper bag and a coffee cup. “I got you tea and pork cutlet sandwiches this time!”
“Dazai! Where were you?” Kunikida demanded with an irritated glare Dazai ignored as he swept inside.
“The café with that angelic beauty downstairs!” he replied, gliding over to Oda and tugging him to his desk. “Now sit, sit. Time to eat!”
Kunikida muttered a few choice words under his breath but otherwise didn’t stop Dazai from pulling up a chair next to Oda with his bento.
“Oi brat, help me gather up those guns and then you can break for lunch.”
“Yes, sir!” Atsushi said, scrambling to obey.
“Careful not to shoot yourself! Or anything else, for that matter! If you do, you’ll be the one cleaning up and paying for it!”
Once Atsushi finished, he went to retrieve his lunch from his satchel while Kenji took the pile of guns and lifted them off somewhere. He’d forgotten about his bento right up until that point. Sitting in one of the chairs, he pried the lid open and stopped short.
Round rice balls shaped into pandas with seaweed, vegetables cut into flowers, tamagoyaki chicks, and two slices of apple rabbits. The bento was very… cute. It wasn’t what he’d expect someone as gruff-looking as Oda would make, even as kind-hearted as he was.
Atsushi looked up at Oda and Dazai sitting across the room in disbelief.
“Oh, Odasaku-kun made you a bento. How lucky of you, though I expect he’ll make one for you every day from now on.”
Atsushi craned his neck up to look at Yosano.
“Um… Yosano-sensei, was it?”
“Yes?”
“What do you mean by that?”
Yosano grinned.
“Odasaku-kun has a soft spot for children and orphans. So naturally when one shows up at the Agency’s door, he’ll get protective.”
Atsushi blinked in surprise.
“Oh.”
“Don’t expect us to go easy on you, though,” Kunikida said as he walked past.
“I wasn’t expecting that,” Atsushi muttered. He looked at his bento again.
If Oda was going to make lunch for him from now on, was he going to spend this much effort to make lunch this pretty every time? It wasn’t necessary for him to go so far for Atsushi, but he couldn’t say it wasn’t appreciated.
Yosano chuckled.
“This kind of bento is Odasaku-kun’s specialty now. He’s been doing this for Dazai for a while.”
“So Dazai was the one who asked for this?”
Somehow, it didn’t surprise Atsushi.
“Maybe, or Odasaku-kun decided to start on his own." Yosano shrugged. "Either way, he’s gotten really good at it. Well, enjoy your lunch. I’m going to the café.”
Her heels clicked on the tile as she walked away, leaving Atsushi to his food.
He chanced another glance at Dazai and Oda, but he quickly turned away with a blush. Dazai was feeding Oda food from his bento.
It was kind of embarrassing to watch. He felt like some kind of voyeur, and Atsushi beat a hasty retreat into the kitchen. Kunikida looked at him curiously as he entered.
He was glad he didn’t sit with them. How could Ranpo stand to stay in the same room?
“What’s wrong? Scurrying in here all of a sudden.”
“U-um…”
Would it be too rude to ask what Dazai and Oda’s relationship was?
“Dazai-san and Oda-san…”
Atsushi felt his cheeks heat up again.
“Oh, those two.” Kunikida scrunched his nose. “Yes, they’re together. I don’t know what Oda-san could see in someone as lazy, troublesome, and suicide-manic as Dazai, though.”
“I thought that might be the case,” Atsushi mumbled
He wondered how they got together. Oda was kind but stoic and Dazai was pretty smart but… weird. They seemed so different. In any case, he should eat his lunch. It was almost a shame to eat something so artistic.
As expected, it was delicious. Atsushi finished every last bit in the kitchen before heading back to the main office. By now, some of the office assistants have returned. None of them so much as gave a second glance to the missing door.
Atsushi closed his bento box and rewrapped it.
Oda was finishing up his lunch while Dazai appeared to be done with his already. Still, he remained by Oda’s side, chattering and rocking his chair tilted on its hind legs.
Seeing them sitting together as peacefully as they did that morning, Atsushi was struck by how a lot more… relaxed Dazai was around Oda. It was even more obvious when Atsushi thought of the way Dazai acted around Kunikida.
A lot of the time, Dazai was dramatic. He moved around in an exaggerated way with a lot of grand gestures. The way he talked was dramatic too. But here, Dazai simply sat talking in low tones. It was as though all pretenses fell from his shoulders. He felt more open.
“Um, Oda-san?” Atsushi said, tentatively, unwilling to interrupt their time together and not sure if he even should.
Both their attention turned to him, Oda with a placid expression and Dazai with a broad smile.
“Thank you again for lunch. I came to give you back the box but, uh…” he scratched the back of his neck with nervous fingers, “do you want me to return it later?”
“It’s fine. I’ll take it,” Oda said, accepting the box. “If you have any requests for lunch, tell me and I’ll try my best to make it.”
“No, you’re already doing so much!” Atsushi cried, waving his hands. “I’ll be happy to eat anything you make me!”
“There’s no need to be shy,” Dazai chirruped. “Nothing will make Odasaku happier than filling up your skeletal frame.”
“I’m not that thin,” Atsushi protested with a huff, hands swinging to grip his forearms and squeezing. Was he?
“By the way,” Dazai continued on, ignoring his indignity, “we’re throwing you a welcome party at the end of the day, so don’t leave too early!”
Atsushi pointed to himself.
“For… For me?”
“Of course! Where’d you think all those office assistants went if not to get supplies?”
The mirth in Dazai’s voice made Atsushi feel a bit dumb.
“O-Oh.”
He flustered. He didn’t think his membership into the Agency was a big deal worth celebrating.
“You’re part of the Agency now,” Oda said. “It’s only natural.”
Was it possible to feel so happy and warm that he burst from it like a balloon?
“Thank you.”
His voice wobbled from trying to constrain the feeling of fullness in his chest. Atsushi would make sure the Agency would never regret taking him on.