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Dazai stayed motionless throughout Atsushi lightly dabbing his face with a cleansing wipe. It came away clean to the eye, but Atsushi was only cleaning away the natural oils built up overnight. He sits there, cleaning around his closed eyes, nose and around the breathing tube keeping his mouth open wide in a silent scream, but more important keeping his airways open, so Atsushi doesn't complain.
A punctured lung, a medically induced coma (by Yosano), a broken left wrist and a broken right leg, multiple bruises and cuts, none of it made sense to Atsushi, but he still perches there cleaning his face. In his uninjured arm, an IV drip is placed, slowly pushing in drugs and nutrients into his bloodstream. It's also bruised where the needle didn't want to find the vein. The coma was only supposed to last three days, but apparently Dazai's body decided it wanted longer, and so everyone provided.
Atsushi had offered to keep watch as the rest of the Agency, including the President, went and got something to eat, with the promise he'd call if something changed and they'd bring him something back.
Atsushi grimaces as he brings Dazai's injured hand into his lap, carefully, as for some reason it needed cleaning. Dazai had been taken from them for four months. Four painstaking months of not knowing where he was, shouting and arguments in this office that were still to this day left unresolved, four months of staring out the window hoping to see the familiar tan coat billowing in the wind as he walks. Four months of coming to dead ends and screaming into empty rooms pretending the others can't hear.
And now, two weeks of a stabilised but unconscious Dazai, unresponsive to everything they did. You could scream as loud as you wanted in his face, and he'd do nothing. Yosano says he can hear them, so Atsushi talks a little about whatever he can, whatever he thinks Dazai would like to hear.
He doesn't get into much conversation without apologising.
They'd found him bloodied and strapped to a table by leather, syringe needles littering the floor and blood dripping. His broken wrist with a claw of a hammer stuck in it, his leg bent at an unnatural angel with breathing just barely there, rasps mixing with the blood of a punctured lung. Ranpo had been the one to find him, walking into the room and unable to stop the horrifying scream of Dazai's name as he tried his hardest to untie the leather bounds with trembling hands and blurry vision. Dazai hadn't moved then, hadn't moved until he was hauled into Fukuzawa's strong arms, limbs following the laws of gravity. Kunikida had trailed close, holding Dazai's head up.
Somehow, in the midst of everything, Yosano had been prepared and smart enough to gather all the resources and machines Dazai needed, be it by luck or good judgement. After four months, they weren't letting him out of their sights for a single moment.
Atsushi continues to clean Dazai's fingers where they poke out of the cast before throwing the wipe in the nearest bin. He uses light fingertips to brush away the brown curls on the mans forehead, and sighs, it's greasy but there's nothing anyone could do about it until he was up again. Four months and two weeks was enough to shatter the Agency's small world. Work was a tiring thing, but cases needed solving by someone.
He doesn't cry, not here anyways. He cries in the comfort of loneliness, where no one can see him, where Dazai couldn't possibly here. That's even if when Atsushi was talking to him he could hear. He'd sung a few times too, songs he thought Dazai would like but mostly songs he'd played on repeat because of how relative they were to him. Kyouka had been staying with Naomi and Jun'ichiro, so Atsushi had a lot of time to cry. it was for the best, Atsushi was no good at consoling her.
Ten minutes later sees Yosano coming back with a bag of drink in hand, to find Atsushi softly dozing with his head on the bed, nowhere near Dazai almost as if he was afraid of touching him. Yosano quickly checks over monitors and drip, checks Dazai's temperature before tiptoeing back out to collect Kunikida.
"Do you mind moving Atsushi? He'll hurt his back sleeping on that." She says, settling the bag and drink on the boy's desk whilst Kunikida stands from his.
Kunikida still didn't know how to react other than throwing himself headfirst into his work and trying to find out who did this to Dazai, as the base was completely empty when they burst in. Guilt, for not looking for Dazai after three days of not seeing him, anger for Dazai letting something like that happen to him, sadness for not being able to do anything and to see his younger co-works so obviously confused with how to cope.
He'd bought Kyouka a colouring book and all new pens the other day, and she sits in the corner with Kenji most of the time colouring. He follows Yosano without so much as a complaint, and sighs when he sees Atsushi. It was getting continually harder to hold onto hope that he'd wake up, but it had only been two weeks. Were they really that hopeless?
Dazai wouldn't be.
Kunikida slides an arm under Atsushi's knees, the other around his man. The boy wakes momentarily, but barely enough for him to be coherent, but it is enough for him to wrap his arms around Kunikida's neck and let him carry him into the main office towards the waiting area's sofas. Kenji followed with a blanket. It was getting later in the day now, and soon enough everyone would go home apart from Yosano and Fukuzawa, who took the night watches, almost waiting scared for something to happen even thought it never did.
Atsushi kept a diary and had done since the first day he got his own notebook. He wrote down everything from then on, apart from mission details and confidential whatnots. He wrote down what injuries Dazai sustained, how long he'd been gone, where they found him. He didn't write down his way of coping with it, the cuts lining his arm under jumpers he'd started to wear. No one questioned him, it was winter and none of them were exactly trying to be unprofessional. It was certainly weird seeing Kunikida in a turtle neck.
But yes, Atsushi's arms were littered with self-inflicted cuts that the tiger didn't heal, that bought the reality of things back to him. Atsushi didn't know of a better way of coping with the absence of his mentor... the absence of someone he loved. Maybe he was just as useless as he was told. But as of right now, he wasn't going to stop, and he wasn't going to let anybody know. Because Dazai was top priority.
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It's the beginning days of the third week, around midnight when Yosano and Fukuzawa flinch at the sound of the door to the infirmary opening, both reaching for their weapons, only to not need them whatsoever. Harmless Atsushi stands there with the remains of tears drying on his face, shoes on the wrong feet where they'd been thrown on carelessly and hastily, and a blanket folded in trembling hands. The poor boys not even wearing socks. He'd run all the way from the dorms to here. It didn't take a second thought for Yosano to get to her feet and open her arms, letting Atsushi embrace her tightly in the dim room.
It was becoming increasingly obvious that the three founding members of the Agency were the strongest, and knew so much more about consoling people than they previously thought, and Fukuzawa followed their lead well. The Agency was one whole family.
"I'm sorry," He whispers, "I couldn't sleep again."
"Again?" Yosano says, slowly running fingers through grey hair, the other arm rubbing his shoulder as eyelashes flutter against her neck, "Why didn't you tell me you weren't sleeping well?"
It's a stupid question really, but there's no way Atsushi was the only one struggling to sleep. But then again, everyone else was doing a lot better than he was, he thinks. Well, no one else has resorted to self-harm, have they. He doesn't know that Kyouka had taken to sleeping between Naomi and Jun'ichiro as protection, as comfort. He doesn't know Yosano hadn't slept on a proper bed, or slept deeply, for that fact, in fears Dazai's state would change. He doesn't know Ranpo sleeps with his hand on her phone and that Kenji rang his family every night and cried.
Atsushi doesn't answer at first, but he knows exactly what he's going to say, it's gathering the confidence to actually verbalise it that's the problem. Yosano's hold on him tightens as his silence elongates.
"'cos Dazai's more important." He mumbles, and Yosano barely hears it over the beeping filling the room. She can't find any room in her heart to be angry.
"Your health is equally as important." Comes Fukuzawa's voice, as his large hands sit in the middle of the boys small back. It only takes seconds for Atsushi's eyes to water, and for the first few to roll down Yosano's collar bone where she's wearing a tank top. They both share a glance, and his head turns against her shoulder to look at Dazai, bottom lip trembling because he's just not moving.
Gently, Fukuzawa moves his away by his shoulders and guides him to lie down on the sofa in the corner of the room, resting his head on the President's lap. Yosano covers him with the blanket he'd brought, and belatedly realised that it's Dazai's one from his dorm.
It had a distinct smell of sake and of Dazai in general, it was indescribable. Atsushi falls asleep quickly, and for most of the night, Fukuzawa doesn't stop running his fingers through the boys hair, the other hand holding his book to read. The boy sleeps through the night.
No change happens.
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It's a miracle that Yosano just happened to be leaning over Dazai's face when his eyes started to open.
It had officially been four weeks and three days since they found Dazai and now hope was hanging on by the barest of threads. Yesterday, a hot-headed ginger came in, and they all watches as he plainly stood in the room next to Dazai's bed, looking blank as if the emotions he should show weren't programmed into him. Atsushi had tried his best to keep Akutagawa updated since they had one another's numbers for missions, and he guesses that information was relayed to Chuuya. The man brought a card too, but by the handwriting it was clearly from Kouyou, who gave her wishes and thanked Yosano for her hard work.
"You better fucking wake up," He said, "This isn't the time to play games."
And promptly left. That was, of course, after looking Atsushi in the eye and ruffling his hair.
"Take care of him kid, and yourself."
Atsushi wanted to take that advice to heart, but he failed when that night he pushes the razor into the skin and watches the sink turn red, cursing himself to hell for making the situation all about him. And yet, despite all the knowledge of everyone at the Agency combined, no one had worked out what Atsushi was doing to himself. He felt confident that he could overcome this when Dazai woke up, but that confidence was going down the drain along with his hope.
He still wrote in his diary, still cleaned his wounds with tears and slept with the demons. His arms were constantly sore but he wasn't going to stop...
Yosano had taken it from Atsushi to start cleaning Dazai's face every morning and night, unless Atsushi himself had done it, with gentle hands and a hum. She chuckles lightly at her own joke she was telling him, that this was probably the best sleep he'd ever hand, that wasn't induced by sleeping pills. Yosano hopes he heard that so they can laugh about it one day in the future. She leans over him slightly to get a new wipe for his face, when she notices something out of the corner of her eye.
She focuses quickly, and watches his eyes start to slowly clench, and even slower, begin to open. Panic rises in her chest like wildfire as his blood pressure starts to increase, and the panic turns into more of a match thrown into a pool of gasoline. She jumps up and yanks the door to her infirmary open, and as luck of the draw would have it, Fukuzawa is in the hallway.
"He's waking up." She gasps as soon as he spots her, and his eyes widen before they both rush to the man's side. Dazai's eyes are fluttering, still gradual but with a lot more effort than before, like a child stuck in a nightmare unable to wake up.
"He's going to panic when he realises he's not breathing manually, I need you to get Kunikida so we can hold his arms down." Yosano feels wrong ordering her Boss around, but ultimately, and especially in this room, she's the one in charge. She speaks hurriedly whilst preparing a needle of anaesthetic to calm him if things really do get out of hand.
Like she says, the second Kunikida runs in, Dazai's eyes fly open and he's throwing his arms to his mouth, trying to tug out the blockage in his mouth. Little whimpers and gurgles escape and it's the most noise they'd heard in ages.
He probably thinks he'd being gagged, and the weakness is the bad drugs, not the good ones keeping the pain at bay.
Fukuzawa holds down his injured arm whilst Kunikida rounds the bed to take the other, insuring that the drip hadn't come loose in his hazed movements. In her haste to calm him down without injecting him, Yosano climbs onto the bed, making sure to mind his broken leg and not putting a single ounce of her weight on his body. His eyes are full of panic and she feels her heart breaking at the sight, but she isn't going to break her façade yet. But the thing is, seeing a familiar face causes Dazai to try and regulate his breathing, key word being 'try'.
"Dazai, can you hear me? If you can hear me, I need you to blink three times slowly." Yosano says loudly, and Dazai blinks once, twice and a third time, breathing finally starting to calm.
"You need to calm down, you have a breathing tube in, you are not choking or suffocating, and you are not in danger." She says, "It's me, Kunikida and Fukuzawa in here, no one else, I promise. The drugs in you are to heal you, I wouldn't do anything to harm you."
Dazai's arms go limp and both men immediately let go to avoid causing any harm. It's unprofessional for Yosano to be practically straddling him, but she'd panicked and didn't want him to feel crowded with so many faces. They still weren't exactly sure what happened while he was gone, so it was best to assume the worst at first. His eyes still looked panic ridden, but a lot less than before and a lot more focused. She checks his temperature, checks his blood pressure before asking questions.
"Do you know who I am?"
Dazai nods his head.
"Do you know who you are?"
Dazai nods his head.
"Do you know the date?"
He shakes his head gently, and Yosano smiles.
"That's good Dazai."
She keeps up with questions like this that needed definitive answers, but all of which are bringing him further out of unconsciousness. He's very pale, his cheekbones are more pronounced than ever, but all that's natural for someone who hadn't eaten in nearly five months. She eventually tells him the date, and how long he'd been out for, but nothing that could trigger memories from his kidnapping or anything alike.
"Okay, I'm going to take the breathing tube out. It'll feel like you're gagging, but I need you to stay calm for me, alright?" She says, Kunikida helping her climb off so she can tie her hair back and pull on some gloves. Kunikida is then in his eye-line, and the blonde looks shaken but happy. There's a certain feeling unlike anything Dazai had ever felt in his life.
Is this... relief?
"It'll take a couple seconds to get used to breathing yourself, but it'll be okay. Try not to talk as your throat will be as dry as Kunikida's sense of humour."
Seeing Dazai smiling around the breathing tube was a success, even more so when the President snorts and Kunikida shakes his head with a smile. Once her sleeves are rolled up and gloves are on, she begins to unstick the pads on either side of his face that were keeping the tube in place. She then takes a deep breath of her own whilst watching his heart rate of which was steady. She'd only done this once in her whole medical career.
"Can you take a couple of breaths for me, not deep?"
He follows her orders again.
"Perfect. Now, take a very deep breath." And once his chest has expanded, she pulls the tube out, almost effortlessly whilst saying 'hold it' to him. Kunikida holds a bucket to her side for her to immediately place the tube into. She's not very surprised when his gag reflex lets this happen, she's never seen him be sick or gag.
"And cough now." Dazai coughs, albeit weakly, but clear of anything. She watches intently as he takes his first few unassisted breaths, before slumping back. His fingers lightly jolt against the best before he takes her head. Dazai holding hands wasn't a normal thing, so it was one of the greatest comforts from him. He breaths steadily, tongue feeling foreign in his mouth as he wets his lips.
Taking her orders to mind, he doesn't talk at all, but looks her in the eyes. But upon finding tears in her eyes, smiles apologetically. She leans over and presses her lips oh so gently against his forehead, a silent 'thank you for waking up'.
“Keep taking some deep breaths, alright. I’ll get you some cold water. Hopefully, that will help with your voice.” She says, then glances at Fukuzawa, “Should I tell the others?”
“Yes, place do. I wouldn’t be fair to keep then form knowing.” He says, reaching over to take Dazai’s hand, so silently glad that Dazai looked better already. He looks at someone he’s seen as a song with pride and great relief.
“Atsushi didn’t come in by the way.” Kunikida says, starting to press the button so the bed lifts Dazai’s upper half, watching intently for any signs of pain, and Yosano nods. That strikes wonder and apprehension in Dazai, where could he be? Dazai glances down at his injured arm and leg in casts, but still waits upon Yosano’s return to talk. He feels his strength coming back, enough for him to move his casted arm to his stomach and clench his fist, wincing as a sharp spike of pain goes up his arm. The same goes for when he wiggles his toes.
With a light hand under his chin, Fukuzawa helps him roll his neck, the clicking of bones satisfying yet deeply disturbing at how loud they were.
“I’m sorry about your bandages Dazai, we tried to cover you as much as possible, and the younger ones didn’t see.” Kunikida speaks as he pushes up his glasses and fumbles with the spine of his ideal. It’s at that point Dazai realises he’s not covered in bandages, but it was probably for the best. Hiding wasn’t good for the soul, as he’d learnt. There was something indescribable about waking up in the well known infirmary instead of some random hospital room with no one by his side. He didn’t like anxiety on Kunikida, it wasn’t a good look.
Yosano walked back in the office and stood in the doorway. No one notices her until she took a deep breath, belatedly realising her hair was still up and gloves donned.
“Dazai’s awake.”
She soon gets crowded by everyone asking if he’s alright. Oh, and Atsushi really wasn’t there, which was horribly but she couldn’t blame him, nobody knew it was going to happen today. But she couldn’t help but feel bad, Atsushi wouldn’t get to be one of the first to see him.
“He shouldn’t be able to talk yet, but knowing Dazai he might able to. Just be careful and try not to overwhelm him.” She says, before leading them into the infirmary. Kyouka hesitates in the doorway, scared beyond belief as they watch Yosano help him drink. After most of the bottle is gone, she asks him to clear his throat and try saying his name. It comes out a little raspy, but the praise he receives his day-making. Yosano doesn’t bother giving the advice to keep quiet.
“Could somebody message Atsushi and tell him?” Yosano says, and Jun’ichiro pulls out his phone.
It takes Kyouka a lot of confidence to walk into the room, but even then she hides behind Naomi instead of going up to Dazai like she really wanted. It was like she was expecting him to jolt or start convulsing, none of which was going to happen of course. Watching him listen to Yosano was interesting, but she was so happy to see him, well, alive really.
Jun’ichiro gives him a light hug, as does Kenji and Ranpo, who looked a bit shaken still, and soon found his place next to Fukuzawa so he could slip a small hand in his. Kenji tells him that his mother sends her best wishes from the village. Dazai then says he heard everything whilst he was out, and everyone was ecstatic to hear that.
Which meant he heard Atsushi singing?
“Kyouka… Come here.” Dazai says, and Kyouka startles before slowly making her way over to his side. Her bottom lip trembles and so does her hands as her tiny ones hold Dazai’s one.
“I’m alright Kyouka, I’m here now.”
The dam that she’s worked so hard to build gives way and tears stream down her face, and Dazai coos lightly with a chuckle that pains him slightly.
“Come here.” He says, and lifts his arm so Kyouka can tuck herself under it and ever so gently hug him. She’s shaking through fear of hurting him, but his chest had healed nicely as far as Yosano was concerned, and so she tells her it’s alright. It’s not even like she weighs much. So with permission, she buries her head into Dazai’s neck and sobs. He can’t console her as he’d like to, but gently stroking her back was enough, even thought he has a cast on his head. He knows Kyouka isn’t the only person he’ll hug today.
She doesn’t cry for long, but she holds onto him for a while longer before pulling away. She smiles brightly despite her red eyes, and tells him she’s ever so glad to see him. As they talk, with Kenji settling on the opposite side, Jun’ichiro’s phone pings.
“Hey, Yosano-sensei, Atsushi said he wanted to message you if you weren’t busy.” Jun’ichiro says, and the doctor is question cocks her head in confusion, but nonetheless waits for her phone to go off. When it does, she’s surprised at the message.
From Atsushi-Kun
Is it alright if I come later? I’m not feeling too good right now.
She doesn’t even want to question what that could possibly mean, so she leaves it be.
From Yosano-Sensei
Of course that’s alright. Dazai is okay and talking, he’ll be happy to see you.”
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Eventually, the chatting dies down as does the light of the day, and everyone starts to say goodbye with the brightest smiles most of them had seen from one another in a long, long time. Ranpo tells him about the smaller cases they were on, and Dazai replies with how utterly boring and easy they seemed, making Ranpo light up. It’s still the absence of Atsushi that makes Yosano feel on edge, but Dazai was happy enough to stay awake long enough to see him. She tells Fukuzawa to go home and rest, and he thanks her before leaving.
She sits by Dazai and talks for almost two hours, and he tells her everything he heard. He only eats four spoons of porridge before he feels full, but that’s also not new for someone gone too long without food. Yosano doesn’t push it.
He tells her he doesn’t want to go to sleep, not until he’s seen Atsushi. When asked why, his reply is heart-breaking.
‘Because knowing Atsushi, he’ll think I’ve gone back into a coma. That, and I want to see him.’
“He’s been fairly quiet,” She muses, “Something’s not quite right and I can’t figure out what.”
Dazai had heard all of what Atsushi had said to him, all the apologies and the ‘please wake up’s, all the small begs he made, songs and even felt the kisses against his forehead. It was a mistake going to the docks at that time of night, pretending the possibility of attack was little to nothing. And now he couldn’t even think of what Atsushi felt. Just like time foretold, he was an awful mentor. Atsushi relied so much on positive influences, and he’d just disappeared off the face of the earth to find him half dead.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Yosano brings him back to the present softly as she changed out the drip bag for another one, a weaker drug now.
“How was he, Atsushi, when you realised I was gone?” He asks, trying to skip around what actually happened for a better day when he wasn’t bedridden.
“He played the brave card all the way until we found you, but god knows about behind closed doors. But… I don’t think he’d been telling us everything. I’m hoping he tells you.” She says softly, picking her words carefully until her phone pings.
From Atsushi-kun
Can you unlock the door please? I left my keys at the dorm.
“He’s been locked out, I’ll go get him.” Yosano speaks as she stands, stretching before gathering her keys off the desk. She opens the door to Atsushi who looks dead tired, and he’s slung a bag over his shoulder and in his arms sits Dazai’s coat, which had clearly been cleaned nicely, of which Fukuzawa had taken care of, and left it to Atsushi to take real care of it and hang in his wardrobe.
“Are you alright?” She asks whilst he slips off his shoes and coat.
“I’m alright, just woke up, y’know, not thinking today was gonna be the day.” He whispers, and shuffled his bag further up his shoulders, hands wringing lightly.
“I’ll stay our here, go and see Dazai.” She watches as Atsushi nods slowly, glancing towards the hallway towards the infirmary. His shoulders are tense and it appears he’s trying not to panic.
“Is there anything I need to do? Like pay attention to numbers or give him medicine or-“
“Calm down Atsushi,” She chuckles whilst ruffling his hair, “He’s alright. But if you want to be good, make sure he has a drink often.”
“Right, so every-“
“Just whenever, it doesn’t matter.” She says, and Atsushi sighs in relief. He can do that.
So, Atsushi finds himself stood by the door holding the doorknob with fear. ‘I can do this’ he repeats in his head until he finally gathers enough courage to push open the door. He closes the door behind him before he takes a look at Dazai, biting his tongue because he doesn’t need to introduce himself because Dazai is awake and can see him. When he turns around and meets eyes, he finds himself rambling immediately, every inch of his self-control disappearing.
“I bought your coat. I thought you’d like to see it again. We got it clean and I kept it safe. Kyouka kept a hold of your tie and I’m rambling and I can’t stop, oh my god, I can’t stop talking.”
“Atsushi.”
Hearing Dazai’s voice snaps him out of his stupor, and he refocuses on Dazai. His hair is a mess, he looks tired despite his long ass sleep, but more than anything, he looks relieved to see Atsushi. Dazai takes a good look at the boy, his hair has grown slightly, but his fringe was still cut crooked. He still holds himself small, more like a child than a young man.
When Atsushi first realised Dazai was missing, his heart sank because perhaps he’d finally succeeded suicide, and the fear of finding his body floating in a river or hanging in some ware hosue by a noose shook him to the core. And then when they found him, it was the fear that he was never going to wake up again, never going to look Atsushi in the eye or hold him again his chest in comfort. That he was going to stay in a coma for years upon years and grows old and miss the world as it flew past him. They couldn’t even use Yosano’s ability, it was terrifying.
But here he is, weakly smiling up at him with sorrow in his eyes. He didn’t realise he’d gotten closer, not until he was sat on the bed and glancing down at Dazai. Atsushi gently takes his hand, and keeps moving until it’s cupping his pale cheeks, making sure not to pull too hard in case the drip comes loose. And before he has time to think, Dazai’s fingers are coated with tears. He watches as Atsushi’s mouth opens and closes around words he can’t say until he finally reaches a conclusion, golden eyes unable to look at deep brown ones without upsetting himself further.
”I thought you were dead.” He whispers, horrified, “I thought… I thought we’d find your body in a river, that we’d messed up so much you finally did it. I thought our fight was useless, you were already dead, and then we found you and was so… scared, I was so scared.”
Atsushi’s tears double as he hangs his head. Dazai lets him talk, fighting back the urge to call him stupid for thinking that way, but in all honesty, it was only normal he’d think that.
“I thought you might never wake up… That I’d fucked up so badly that I lost you without saying goodbye.”
Tears drop from his chin onto the bedding covering Dazai’s abdomen with gentle pitter-patter that break Dazai’s heart. If he knew this amount of pain would be caused, he would never had gone to the docks that day, let alone how much pain it caused him through torture.
He owes his heart to Atsushi for making him feel more alive for the first time in the last two years, for making him see the world in a slightly different light than before. He’s been happy for the first time in a while because of Atsushi, has felt emotions he’s never felt before, smiled like he’d never smiled before. He owes his heart to Atsushi because he loves him, but now wasn’t the best time to confess that, despite how he believes that was the only thing really keeping him alive.
“Do you want a hug Atsushi?”
Those words are softly spoken, and Atsushi leans down to bury his head into Dazai’s neck in reply, tears now transferring to the man’s scarred shoulder. He smells the same, if not more like disinfectant and stale hair, but that made it so much more like Dazai. The older man’s nose presses above his ear as he whispers calming nonsense in attempt to calm him down, but he’s finally letting out everything he just couldn’t on his own, in the loneliness of his bedroom. Atsushi’s hands are both in my hair, ignoring the grease in favour of rucking himself impossibly closer.
“Yosano told me you washed my face for me. Thank you Atsushi.”
The boy laughs wetly before pulling away, using his upper arm to wipe away his tears momentarily.
“I-I did… It w-was the b-best I could d-do,” He sniffles, I’m sorry I d-didn’t come e-earlier, I just p-panicked.”
“I’m so happy to see you.” Dazai says, reaching up to thumb away the remaining tears on the boy’s eyelashes. He closes his eyes into the touch, tearing up once more again his will.
“Hey,” Dazai coos, “Give me your hand.”
Atsushi flinches when their fingers meet, and shakes until his hand is resting on Dazai’s chest, where he feels the strong pounding of his heard. He stares wide eyes before giving Dazai one of the biggest, brightest smiles he could’ve ever wished for, and Dazai smiles back, a little giddy at being able to bring that smile back. Before any more conversation happens, Atsushi yawns widely, just adding onto how young and tired he appeared. ‘
“You should get some sleep. I’ll be here.” Dazai says, and Atsushi nods.
“I bought my bag… But I can go if you don’t want me to! I know Yosano probably doesn’t want me to stay, ‘cos I’ll take up room-“
Dazai cuts him off by grabbing his wrist but that only prompts a wince and a pained gasp, causing Dazai’s concerns to skyrocket. He’d barely grabbed him with any force because his body wasn’t up to full strength, so there was no way he’d actually hurt the boy by force. There was something else. Their eyes don’t meet again, not until Yosano comes back in and asks him if he’s staying the night. She can practically see the tension between them, and sighs.
“Whatever has happened, sort it out now.” She says, quite sternly, and that scares Atsushi into talking.
“I’ve made a mistake.” She asks, “Do you need medical attention?”
Atsushi shakes his head, although both adults in the room seem to believe the opposite. Atsushi presses his thumb into the middle of his palm anxiousness and then glances at Dazai.
“I think I’ve been… struggling… more than I’ve let on.” He mumbles, and Dazai wishes he could tell the boy to get on and tell him, spit it out and then they’ll fix it, but the words don’t come easily, not when Atsushi starts to fumble with the edge of his sleeves.
“Atsushi-“
“Promise me you won’t get angry.” He blurts out. Again, Dazai and Yosano glance at one another.
“We won’t.” They say in sync, and for some reason he listens despite the fact Dazai will be angry and Yosano will be disappointed, he knows they will. Like he’d thought before, no one else had resorted to this to cope. If it could, his heart would pound out of his chest and just flop onto the floor.
They sit for a further then minutes before Atsushi moves. At that point, Dazai had moved so he was sitting up again, and when Atsushi moves he looks away fro his privacy. Yosano only steps closer. And when Atsushi rolls his sleeves up and it becomes obvious just the severity of his struggling, Dazai feels his eyes widen against his will as Atsushi puts his forearm on his lap. He lets them gaze at him like a lion in a circus.
There’s easily enough to count the days of Dazai’s absence and a lot more. Most of them are horizontal, some cut through others and overlap, some scars from the earlier days have been reopened and healed with a darker mark than before.
Some are so obviously from today, with fresh, dried blood caked over them. They cover both his forearms, and when Yosano takes a closer look by taking his hands (ignoring the terrified inhale of air) they all looked cleaned, infection free and properly healed. Dazai was, rightfully, speechless. He is suddenly overtaken with the urge to protect, to wrap him up in an inescapable burrito of blankets and hold him close, like a cat who doesn’t want to see the vet. Atsushi looked… broken, how imagined how he looked when he left the Mafia. The guilt that must be building up in that tiny body must be awful.
“I… I thought I’d be able to stop when we found Dazai… But you were… I’m just as weak as they told me.” He whispers, crying softly as if he hadn’t cried so much after sobbing against Dazai’s shoulder. Again, he was making things about himself more than the man who’d literally woke up from a coma six hours ago.
“No, no, you’re not Atsushi.” Dazai says, lightly. It’s seconds between him saying this and Atsushi starting to rise to hise feed, but he doesn’t get far as a hand curled in his jumper, and that causes him to sit back down. Within seconds, he’s lying in his arms again, sobbing into his neck harshly as there was no escape now. Yosano sits with her head in her hands for a second, processing this.
“I just couldn’t stop and it was the only way to get my mind to shut up!” He sobs, and Yosano joins him on the bed, on the other side so she can reach over and stroke his back in replace for Dazai’s casted arm. Both can feel the weight of his sobs and neither try to stop him. It’s best now to let him cry it out, holding onto Dazai tight.
“I know, I know, just let it out.” Dazai hushes, and Yosano moves away to start making the sofa into a little bed with the sheets someone had bought over, she couldn’t remember who. She didn’t mind having to sleep in the waiting area of the office, nto if both of them were going to be safe together.
“I’m so, so sorry Dazai.” He mumbles thickly once he starts to calm down and sleep starts to riffle him. Atsushi is still taking great care not to injured Dazai whatsoever, even as he feels the tidal wave of sleep wash over him. Dazai reaches a little further and shuffles Atsushi’s head so he can press a light kiss on his forehead, making Atsushi gasp and shakily whimper, which in turn causes Dazai ton continues pressing kisses on soft skin. There’s a silent understanding between them suddenly, and it makes Atsushi smile shakily.
“We’ll heal together, alright?” He whispers, and Yosano holds his shoulders to confirm that. It’ll be hard, all three of them know, but Dazai is quite possibly the strongest person he’d met, and Dazai had stopped self harming as soon as Atsushi begged him too. So if Dazai could stop, Atsushi could. He could, for definite.
“I’ll leave you two be. Goodnight boys.”
Their ‘goodnight’s’ are in sync, and Atsushi giggles lightly before pulling away. They share the same glint in their eyes before gently laughing at one another, and continuing their hug. There’s just enough room for him to lie on his side beside Dazai, and the man takes his forearm to brush over the cuts. Atsushi hisses lightly, but doesn’t pull his arm back. Atsushi slides his other arm out from under himself to hold Dazai’s casted arm, letting it rest there so he doesn’t bump into it.
“You probably heard me say this but…. I love you Dazai.” He whispers, and the heat rises to his cheeks at the confession. For some reason, this wasn’t a surprise to Dazai.
“I heard you sing a lot.”
Atsushi pulls away, completely forgetting his messy face as he’s startled.
“You heard that?!
I certainly did… And I love you too Atsushi.”
Dazai watches his grin broaden again, before leaning in to hold his face and kiss his lips. Dazai’s little gasp of surprise is cut off as soft lips touch his dry ones. There’s nothing but love behind it, slow and gentle, again to not hurt either of them as Atsushi holds both hands. They loose track of time, the world moving around them and they’re frozen in time. When he finally pulls away, golden eyes meet deep brown, warming and comforting ones.
“I’m so glad you’re alive, Dazai.”
“So am I, Atsushi,” He whispers, “I wouldn’t want it any other way.”
For once, he’s telling the truth. And that night, Atsushi sleeps well, only wishing he could hold hands with Dazai. He sleeps well. Over time, he helps Dazai get back to his feet, ends up helping him wash his hair with his sleeves rolled up to his elbows. He sits with him, pretending to be brace whilst Dazai tells them everything from start to finish, that they were family friends of his father, that he hadn’t seen since he was five. Atsushi held his hand when he started crying against his will, telling them the pain he’d gone through.
Atsushi lets Dazai read his diary, and Dazai reads it from front to last used page in one day, whilst everyone else went swimming in the sea. He didn’t mind, Atsushi wanted Dazai to read it. He heard Dazai fond laughter when he’s guessing he came across the page of his first realisation of love.
They kiss in bed every morning, their alarm set purposefully half an hour earlier for that purpose. Kyouka joins them on bad nights, tugging on Dazai’s shirt until he wakes for her to climb in between. Yosano gives Atsushi the sex talk and he cringes the whole time, before she pats his shoulder and says, ‘as long you love him, that’s all that matters’.
Fukuzawa gives him a hug, and tells him well done for being brave, and pats Dazai on the shoulder, telling him to treat their boy well, to which Dazai promises.
It would only take another five months before Dazai proposed.