Work Text:
Dazai twirls his gun. It spins deftly, around his fingers, and spins again, around and around his fingers. Then it spins once more, but this time out of his grip. It lands with a thud and a clatter on the tiled bathroom floor.
He groans, and doesn’t bother to rise from his position slumped in the corner between the toilet and the shower basin. He’s already tried his luck (or rather unluck) with Russian roulette, and now that that’s failed, he’s decidedly very, very bored.
He knows it’s some ungodly time in the middle of the night, or very early morning, but that’s about it. He supposes he should get up to check just in case it’s later that he thought it was.
(It wouldn’t be the first time he’s been legitimately late because he lost track of time and his bathroom doesn’t have a window. Or a clock, for that matter.
He remembers Kunikida had been really, really pissed off, so much so he hit him a little harder than normal.
Maybe he should try coming in later than he usually does more often.)
---
Dazai goes to work at noon - it’s ridiculously late, seeing as he usually gets there at ten - and when he gets there, the main office area is surprisingly deserted. Kunikida isn’t there, neither is Kenji, Tanizaki, or Kyouka, but Atsushi and Ranpo are, and he knows Yosano is just around the corner in her office. He’s not sure where the President is.
Atsushi greets him quietly as he goes by, but his eyes don’t leave the screen he’s frowning at.
“There you are, Dazai, finally! Come on, take me to the bakery, and buy me cinnabuns, I want some!”
Dazai makes a smile creep across his face. “Sure, Ranpo-san! Only if I can have some, too!”
Ranpo’s emerald green eyes open just very slightly more. “It’s your money!”
Dazai chuckles, and pats Atsushi on the head as he passes him again.
---
Dazai and Ranpo return to the Agency almost an hour later, snacking on cinnabuns. Ranpo quickly goes to drop Yosano’s off in her office. Dazai drops one on Atsushi’s desk as he passes for the third time that day, and the weretiger throws him a grateful glance as he picks it up and takes a large bite. “Thanks, Dazai-san.”
“No problem, Atsushi-kun~!”
A few minutes pass, before Dazai sits up from the couch and frowns. “Say, where are Kunikida and the others?”
“Who?”
Dazai blinks. “You know? Kunikida? Blond ponytail, glasses, easily raised blood pressure? All about ideals?”
Atsushi shakes his head, looking apologetic. “Sorry, never heard of him. Is he a client?”
Dazai swallows. “No. No, he… He paid for your chazuke, remember?”
Now, Atsushi starts to look concerned. “N-No. You did, a-after I fished you... out of the river?”
“But I lost my wallet to the river that day,” Dazai protests, sharp rusty eyes narrowing in bewilderment. “I can’t have paid, I didn’t have any money.”
“Yes, but we… but we found it, right?” Atsushi says, looking confused himself, as if unsure of his words. “I remember…”
“No, we didn’t,” Dazai says. He licks his lips nervously, before asking the younger member, “Who’s desk is that?”
Atsushi blinks. “Um, that’s…”
Dazai watches with dread.
“Uh… I, um, I don’t, don’t know…” Atsushi frowns. “No one’s, I guess?”
“It’s Kunikida’s desk,” Dazai breathes.
“Who?”
---
Dazai leaves.