Work Text:
Dazai woke to complete silence, the heavy summer air settling over him like a suffocating blanket. Beams of sunlight flooded the small room, golden bars illuminating patterns on the wall. Slowly, he turned his head to the battered old alarm clock beside his bed. The blinking display showed it was almost ten-thirty.
“Just in time for work,” Dazai said brightly, but he found his usual bravado was difficult to summon. In fact, he didn’t feel much of anything at all, just a hollowness that ached all the way to his bones.
Ah. So it was one of those days.
He sat up, already dreading the long walk to the Agency. It was so far away, and he was so empty. Kunikida probably didn’t want to see his face anyways. Then he remembered the paperwork he’d left on his desk, procrastinating it for today. He groaned, regretting his laziness.
He needed something to eat, too, but he felt too exhausted to even care about that. The kitchenette felt miles away. I’ll just get something at the cafe, he told himself, knowing it would only be a single black coffee. The lie helped him force his body into action, and he finally stood up with a sigh. He was so tired of this. Tired of waking up every single day; tired of being unable to feel a single proper human emotion.
It was going to be a long day.
-~-
“Good morning Dazai,” Kunikida said brusquely, already typing away at his computer. “You’re late again.”
“I know,” agreed Dazai, unable to conjure up the right amount of false cheerfulness. Idiot, he thought as Kunikida looked up in surprise, faint concern on his face.
“No witty comebacks, bandage boy?”
“Saving them up for the ultimate witty comeback I have planned for this afternoon,” Dazai replied, trying for a dazzling grin. This time, he managed to prevent his true emotions from showing, and was rewarded by Kunikida’s exasperated eye roll. The emptiness gnawed at his insides, but he squared his shoulders and made his way over to the messy desk he occasionally inhabited.
There were a few reports he had to complete, ones Kunikida hadn’t borne witness to-- otherwise Dazai would have snuck them all onto Kunikida’s desk instead. Once he was finished though, Dazai planned to head straight home and sleep for the rest of the week. Or something. Drawing up the plain wooden chair, Dazai glanced around the empty office.
“Nobody else here today?” he asked, ensuring his voice remained light.
“Just us for now. Oh, and Yosano’s in the infirmary. Most of the agency is busy with their own cases. Why do you ask?”
“Oh, no reason, Kunikida. You’re so lucky to have me all to yourself!” remarked Dazai. Kunikida scoffed.
“Right.”
They went back to their respective duties in silence, Dazai deciding to actually concentrate on his work for once. It was mindless, while simultaneously taxing enough to prevent his thoughts from turning to darker things. Like how great it would feel to be drowned in a river-
“Dazai.” Dazai looked up, only to find Kunikida standing right in front of his desk. How had he missed that? Pay better attention to your surroundings, Dazai, a voice in his head chided, sounding suspiciously like his former partner. A certain redhead he kind of… missed, actually. Dazai shook away the thought, turning his attention back to the present. There was no use in dwelling on things he couldn’t have.
“What can I help you with on this fine day, Kunikida?”
“I’m heading down to the cafe. You want anything?” Dazai was surprised that Kunikida had even asked him. He narrowed his eyes at Kunikida, wondering what his ulterior motive was.
“An unscheduled break? Odd for someone as hard-working as Kunikida to take, no?”
“Don’t be an ass, Dazai,” Kunikida said, rolling his eyes again, “I just thought you seemed tired today, or something.” He looked slightly embarrassed at the observation. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
Dazai was surprised once again, hesitating. An “ I’m fine” hovered on the tip of his tongue, but the genuine concern in Kunikida’s voice gave him pause. He studied the other man, wondering when Kunikida had gotten so perceptive. He suddenly realized that he’d never been at the Agency on one of these days. Whenever Dazai felt like this, he usually stayed holed up in his room, staring at the wall and thinking of all the various ways he could die. He never tried any of them until he had enough energy to get out of bed, though. Nobody at the Agency had ever questioned his absences before, and Dazai hadn’t exactly wanted to clarify.
The only other person who knew about these days was stuck working for the local mafia. Dazai recalled the way they’d spent them together, his partner never failing to draw him up from the depths of his sorrow. Although he manipulated gravity, Dazai had always felt lightest around Chuuya. Or maybe that was because he manipulated gravity. In any case, Dazai missed the easy banter, sharp words disguising sharper feelings.
Chuuya never said it outright, but he’d always seemed to care more about Dazai than Dazai did. He’d been kind to Dazai on his worst days, even though Dazai never felt like he deserved any of it. It was possible that Dazai cared about Chuuya too, but he hadn’t gotten the chance to say so. He missed the way they supported one another without question, despite the tumultuous rivalry between them. Maybe it’s time to let someone else in.
But Dazai couldn’t. He hated being vulnerable, and he didn’t want to experience the inevitable pity Kunikida would show him. Also, he had no idea where to even start.
“I’m okay,” he said quietly, “just tired.” He let the facade drop a fraction, emotions bleeding into his expression. They were raw and humiliating, but he was so exhausted with putting up a front. He couldn’t say it, maybe, but Dazai wanted to at least show it. He stared into Kunikida’s blue eyes, willing him to understand. Blue eyes, huh , Dazai thought dryly. This felt familiar too.
Kunikida’s gaze softened in response, and Dazai held his breath, waiting for shallow condolences and sympathetic drivel that would only serve to make him feel worse. He didn’t want to be treated like a victim.
“Idiot, you should get more sleep,” Kunikida said, and Dazai felt relief flood through him. He opened his mouth to say something clever, but it appeared Kunikida wasn’t done yet. “I can’t have someone working with me while sleep-deprived. All your reports will be filled out improperly. Go have a nap,” he ordered, pointing at the Agency’s green velvet couch.
Dazai’s mind went blank; whatever he’d been about to say was forgotten. Kunikida glared at him, something akin to determination on his face.
“Of course, Kunikida. Have fun with my reports!” Dazai managed, already stretching and standing up. Kunikida nodded, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and opening his notebook.
“I’ll just have to alter my schedule a bit. Get some rest, Dazai.”
Gratefulness flooded through Dazai, and although it wasn’t enough to push away the horrible weariness, he felt warmer than he had all morning.
He wasn’t going to tell that to Kunikida, though.
He was asleep the moment his head hit the cushion, the familiar clicking of Kunikida’s keyboard echoing through the office.
-~-
When Dazai woke up for the second time that day, he noticed a croissant and a cup of warm tea resting on the worn coffee table in front of him. An unidentifiable emotion radiated through his chest, although that could have just been hunger. He sat up, a blanket slipping off of his shoulders; he pulled it closer, welcoming the softness. Across the room, Kunikida continued typing at his computer, not even looking up when Dazai glanced at him.
He took a sip of tea, relishing the faint sweetness of whatever herbal blend Kunikida always drank. Dazai much preferred coffee, but he had to admit there was a certain appeal to tea-- if you ignored the fact that it was just a bunch of leaves in water.
Dazai smiled. Despite the horrible emptiness sapping his strength, he felt well-rested for the first time in a long time.