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"Because I love you, Osamu."
Those were the words that had started the whole mess. The catalyst to the situation currently tormenting Dazai. He knew it was unreasonable. Who would be scared of three simple words? Why was he the one scared of them? Maybe...Maybe it was the adoration that bled into his partner's expression, or the unusual softness of the whispered words. Regardless.
Dazai was scared.
The meaning of such saccharine words was lost on the tired young man. Gunshots and scalding blood were all that came to mind after such a promise. The secrets of such a feeling had faded along with his friend's steadying heartbeat.
What had spurned his partner to say such a thing? A day like any other had ended in such a jarring fashion. And the worst part – how much he had craved to hear those words. No matter the pain, he was almost comfortable.
So he ran.
It wasn't like him to be taken by surprise, the sudden confession sweeping him off his wobbly feet. Dazai was perfectly content with the way things had been. He didn't need searing kisses or a tight embrace, soft touches rarely gifted were enough for him. Or so he had thought. Truth be told he didn't need such a weakness, but the poor man couldn't help wonder what it would be like. What exchanging strength for desired comforts felt like.
Looking back on their time together, Dazai chastised himself for being so blind to the many instances he allowed himself to fall deeper and deeper. A week of solitude and cheap liquor was enough time to punish himself for every returned gaze and outstretched hand. Even now he could feel the way the bandages pulled at aching wrists.
Now he stood shaking in front of the agency doors. Behind the flimsy wood, he would find his partner. Dazai was ready to face any wrath thrown his way, however, the prospect of empathy kept him rooted in place. Kunikida had always been understanding whenever the brunette struggled, making him a truly terrifying opponent. The simple thought pricked at his fingers with needles, the pain intensifying when he reached for the doorknob.
Stray sunbeams tickled Dazai's face and he moved to hide. The office air didn't quite reach his lungs, no use in thinking about it though. He felt the man's eyes on him before the blindness subsided.
"Quit dawdling and get to work, Dazai. You're late again," Kunikida said in a tone too kind to be angry.
The use of his last name made Dazai feel safer, the cold disappointment below his ribs ignored. He stalked over to his desk, the pile of papers standing tall. The promise of mischief almost made him giggle. However, upon closer inspection Dazai noticed some of the older reports missing, stack no longer threatening to fall. The young man let out a bratty whine, hoping desperately the bubbling guilt would escape with the air from his lungs.
A familiar paper caught the brunette's attention and deft fingers carefully pocket the item. If normalcy was something he needed to fight for he would. Dazai lets out a cheery hum while hiding the cursed file. Now all that was left was to wait. Like clockwork heavy footsteps approached his desk, a tall figure looming over him.
"Dazai, I know you took the file," a tone with no actual bite.
Despite the rehearsed lines, the setting felt off. The muted voice and pale cheeks were not worth the wrath. Dazai realized that he teased excessively if only to see the other man flustered. Disappointment coated his bones like tar, weighing down his aching limbs. So Kunikida really had been angry with him. Dazai had hoped that they could go back to the effortless banter and deserved nagging. But they couldn't. The young detective carefully handed over the cursed item, already standing to go get some coffee. He didn't dare meet his dear partner's eyes, scared of seeing the brilliant green glazed over with disdain.
A sudden hand on his shoulder stopped him, however. Dazai turned carefully, focusing on a sharp cheekbone instead.
"Make sure to eat something as well," he said quietly.
Kunikida reached up slowly to pat Dazai's messy curls. Hot shame crept up the brunette's spine as he realized how terrible his hair must look. He hated how his partner could make him feel such things with a single glance, feet already tensed to run. The rosy hue blooming on the man's face made him pause. What had caused such a reaction? Before Dazai could ask, however, the detective had already returned to his seat, pointedly not looking in his direction. The cooling anguish returned, muddling the joy of seeing such a display.
Coffee would warm him up.
Descending the creaky steps, Dazai couldn't help but think of the many evenings they had shared. Many nights spent finishing procrastinated work or silently observing an enemy with nothing but the bitter drink to keep them vigilant. Kunikida had seemed so different on such evenings. The fatigue that washed over his being made his expression unguarded and soft, a stark contrast to the sharp beverage on his tongue. Dazai blamed each and every encounter for his current predicament. He was a weak man at heart, but who could refuse a cheap drink if he could accidentally brush his cold hands against slender fingers. Being looked at for just a moment too long with hazy eyes made him giddy with joy. Nobody needed to know to which lengths he went to achieve those moments together.
Sleepless nights weren't the only time they shared coffee. Sometimes, in moments Dazai couldn't orchestrate or fake, he would find himself staring listlessly at the plain cream walls of Kunikida's dorm. The young man had lost count of how many times his partner had angrily pulled him off ledges and out of murky depths. The brunette couldn't say he enjoyed the feelings such a state conjured within him, but the fiery presence by his side made the ice in his veins a bit less painful. Kunikida wasn't soft on such occasions. Despite his best effort to be careful around his fragile partner, the blonde's movements were jerky, words curt and low. It was different from the anger he exhibited at the office. The script always stayed the same, morals and schedules listed without fail, but for some reason, they seemed so insignificant. The memorized lines were repeated nervously as if to fill in the eerie silence. And on such occasions without fail his dear partner would offer him a change of clothing and a warm cup of coffee. It was the closest thing to a genuine hug Dazai had experienced. The brunette doubted he would have accepted such an unadulterated display of affection, so the subtle calm that washed over him was very much welcome.
If Dazai thought about it hard enough Kunikida was always looking out for him. The number of times he had found food in his refrigerator or on his kitchen counters was too many to count. His partner never mentioned the arrangement, silently caring for his partner's wellbeing from the sidelines. The fact that Kunikida would do something so inappropriate for his sake made him strangely happy. For the blonde to feel so strongly about his health, but not confront him directly was almost endearing.
Dazai could not always stomach the food that was left out for him. Sometimes he had to throw away the meal that had sat on his table for days without being so much as nibbled. In those moments he couldn't help but feel guilty, discarding food synonymous with throwing away undeserved kindness. Dazai could never look his partner in the eye on such days, preferring to go above and beyond in his impish behavior. It never worked. After a detailed lecture on work ethics, Kunikida would drag him to eat somewhere. As if his partner knew his woes, he let the brunette indulge him by eating all he could, unpleasant feelings temporarily placated.
The memories clouded his mind as he sat in the cozy cafe. Listless eyes skimmed over the menu in search of something sweet. And yet as Dazai sat sipping on the liquid thick with syrup, a bitter itch bothered his tongue. Every sip felt either too hot or too cold while his fingers kept slipping on the cool porcelain. Finally, he gave up on the fruitless endeavor and got up to return to work.
The young man once again stood at the entrance. This time the desire to flee was muddled with the buzzing in his veins. Every exit seemed like a corner to be backed into, with no place to run or hide. Dazai wished those cursed words had never been uttered, their feelings ignored in favor of simple comfort. He wanted so much to stare at the boring walls while wearing clothing a bit too big for his lanky frame. It was a childish desire, but the young man's nerves were cut and frayed. Dazai could not care enough to save face, fighting to keep the tears at bay. Petty anger simmered in his lungs, choking the bubbling emotions. When had he become so weak that such a thing would crack his mask?
Without confidence he wished to have possessed he opened the door and strolled over to his desk, hands instantly reaching for his distraction. Mundane cases and repetitive motions drained the energy out of his jittery body. With every written word his hand became heavier and heavier. After the same line blurred for the third time, Dazai lifted his gaze to the windows. Instead of fluttering sunlight the only beams in the inky darkness were the streetlamps.
A firm hand on his shoulder jolted Dazai out of his trance. Amber eyes found sage and he held in a gasp. Looking closer Dazai noticed the sunken skin under delicate glasses. Had he not slept well? What happened to his schedule?
"That's enough work for today, Dazai," Kunikida said sternly.
He reached for the brunette's arm, guiding him to his feet. Despite the support the man stumbled slightly, unsteady on weak limbs. A noise of disapproval made its way out of the blonde's throat and he gripped his partner tighter.
"Will you ever learn to take care of yourself, you menace?" The man grumbled, exasperated.
A tired chortle escaped Dazai's lips as he swayed from side to side, body ready to give at any minute. He hadn't realized just how much his bad habits had affected him. Pain prickled his senses, too confusing to even tell the source, but his partner's arm around his waist still caused his cheeks to burn. No matter how much blood has been drained from his frail body, his face found the energy to blush peach. A sigh broke him out of his delirious musings.
"I'm taking you home, Dazai," the blonde man said quietly.
Dragging him down the stairs and into the old car must have been a hassle, but all Dazai could really focus on was the firm grip on his waist and the crude imitation of a hug as Kunikida supported his weight. The older detective had always been much warmer, body heat almost a point of jealousy for the perpetually chilly man. But at the same time, he couldn't find it in him to be mad when he could snuggle up to the blonde detective and blame it on the terrible wind or biting frost. Even at that moment, the fingers digging into his ribs – a bit too tight to tickle – were making him so stupidly happy. The mood dampened somewhat when the embrace was broken and Dazai found himself staring up at a plain car ceiling. The seats were too cold for the young man's shaken nerves and he moved to scramble into the passenger seat. Kunikida said nothing, helping the tired man into a suitable position. Dazai's head lolled to the side, eyes drooping once again.
"Put on your seatbelt," his partner said without looking at him. A mumbled whine was his only answer.
With a resigned sigh, too long to be sincere, Kunikida moved to help the lazy man. Under the dancing streetlights his cheeks seemed rosy, even his ears had seemed to color slightly. The sight made something squirm under the brunette's ribs and his eyes widened slightly. Whatever face he made however seemed to affect the older detective and he fumbled clumsily with the plastic clasp. The rosy pink had become a deep shade of cherry. Dazai wanted to touch it. When Kunikida moved away a bit too quickly the older man did his best to swallow a huff.
A low rumble filled up the silence as they started on their way home. Dazai did his best to keep his lips from grinning at the thought of sharing a home with the grumpy blonde. He turned towards the window to conceal his uncharacteristic expressions. Although his partner's reflection was still visible in the glass. The brunette pressed his slightly feverish forehead to the cool surface, hoping that he would no longer be able to admire the man next to him. The longer Dazai looked the more he wanted to reach out and touch him – a scary thought indeed. At that point, it was only his waning sanity keeping his hands away.
The itch under his skin however was getting a bit too much to bear: fight between uncertainty and desire insufferable. Dazai could feel the slight tremors moving his pale wrists, hands digging into tan pants to stay still. Dull fingernails painful, he could feel the dents being made in his skin.
"Stop that," a stern voice interrupted his thoughts.
Dazai turned to stare at his companion. With his eyes fixed on the road, it almost seemed like it hadn't been him speaking. The worried glances were hard to miss though. Lingering eyes tickled his face, filling his head with faux courage. A sly smile crept onto his pallid face as he reached out to his partner. Slight tremble pointedly ignored, Dazai poked his grumpy friend. A dismissive mumble. A mischievous finger wedged between ribs elicited another grumble. The brunette brightened at the sound. A pinch and Kunikida lightly swatted away the playful digits. Chest suddenly full to bursting, Dazai leaned his forehead against a broad shoulder – the scent of detergent and cologne soothing. His companion once again let out a grunt but didn't move to shove him off. Instead, he stayed unnaturally still as if trying not to disturb the young man by his side. The gesture emboldened the brunette and he moved to snuggle closer yet.
Engine quieting, the car pulled up near the dorms. Dazai cursed under his breath as the sound disappeared. Kunikida didn't move, however, waiting for the other to move. The brunette pointedly refused to look up, holding on for just a moment longer. He could pretend that the warmth in his lungs was simply from the stuffy car and body heat near him. Eventually, Dazai did let go – just like ripping off a bandaid – letting go swiftly and looking away. His partner carefully got out, the chilly wind cooling the heat on his face. Even as he moved to the other side of the car Dazai simply sat motionlessly. Worried for the brunette Kunikida opened the door and moved to be on eye level with the man.
"Are you coming, Dazai?" The blonde looked over at his partner confused.
"Kunikida-kun~" The man dawdled in a happy tune. A huff was the only reply Dazai got.
"Kunikiiiiiida-kuuuun~" He continued still, eyes twinkling at the visible lines of annoyance on the blonde's face.
"What is it?" Patience waning, he asked.
"I'm stuck," he giggled gleefully, hands outstretched. His hands mimicked a small child and Kunikida couldn't help but sigh.
He moved closer to the young detective, arm carefully pulling at the safety belt. Dazai quietly stared at his partner. From up close the color was so vibrant, high cheekbones less sharp and strict. This time shaky fingers dared touch velvet – the tips staining raspberry. Kunikida stared in confusion, hands fumbling in their conquest to free his lazy partner. Pinching turned out to be interesting when the blonde man scrunched his nose, moving away slightly. Dazai giggled with glee.
As his partner moved away, standing expectantly by the car, the young detective's heart skipped a beat. He hissed with irritation at his body's fear, mind once again racing with where to run. Dazai stood up and looked over to his companion. A worried crease had formed between his eyebrows, hands unnaturally stiff by his sides. He was trying his best not to reach out. The freedom bestowed in such a gesture quieted the fear slightly. The waning adrenaline moved his legs quickly to the door, cream coat fluttering behind him. His partner followed close behind.
As they entered the dark apartment, door closing gently, the remnants of fear prickled his guts. It was the same place as last time: the cursed room where those words had been uttered. Kunikida always kept the place so clean, making it impossible to tell if time had passed at all. Dazai's things that had been thrown haphazardly around were untouched.
"Go take a bath. I'll make us dinner," the man said calmly, tone irking the young detective. Why was he the only one affected? So unfair.
"But that's no fun, Kunikida-kun. Come entertain me~" Voice light and teasing.
"Stop fooling around, Dazai," he mumbled flustered as he moved towards the kitchen.
It wasn't enough.
"I'm serious, Kunikida-kun. What if I fall asleep and drown? You need to look after me," the brunette smirked, poking his friend's side.
"Quit messing around. I'll bring you a towel in a moment," the blonde man says dismissively, cheeks too pale for Dazai's liking.
His face burned unpleasantly, eyes fighting to stay clear and open – what a ridiculous sight to behold. The young detective lowered his head, shying away. Such a shameful display was lonely if he only had an audience. Suddenly stepping back, Dazai felt his vision swim, dots splashing over the picture in front of him.
"Dazai," a booming voice startled him.
Kunikida's face was turned away from him, handing him a fuzzy towel. It seemed even his partner couldn't stand to look at him right now. Trembling hands took hold of the soft fabric, however, it wasn't given away so easily.
"Did you mean what you said?" He asked, eyes stubbornly fixed on the floor, fingers unyielding. That color had returned in full force, painting his face redder than a cherry.
The buzz in his fingers had started to feel less like fear, heart rabbiting with excitement. Dazai quickly pulled at the towel, hiding his laughter in the folds. He had missed his partner.
"That I would drown? Of course, Kunikida-kun! Who do you take me for?" The brunette gestured dramatically if only to rip his eyes away from the bubblegum blush.
"Whatever. Hurry up then," he mumbles tensely.
"You are so eager to get in the bath with me, Kunikida-kun? My my, and we haven't even kissed yet," nimble fingers poked at the desired color.
The blonde turned to him slightly, face pensive. Eyes glazed over and somber Kunikida looked at his partner.
"I don't want you to push yourself," came the quiet reply.
Playful words died on his tongue, tasting bitter and vile. The blonde man chuckled sympathetically, hand coming to ruffle ebony locks. Dazai could hardly feel the tender caress through the numbing terror. He didn't deserve such patience. He had to explain. The young man looked up at his partner, for once truly feeling the difference in their height. With a gentle smile Kunikida turned and moved towards the bathroom. It felt like failure. Like sand flowing through aching fists.
Dazai moved to grab his partner's arm, grip tight and shaky. The words bubbled in his throat, bile slowly rising along with the panicked heartbeat. Kunikida turned around slowly, confusion furrowing his eyebrows. Silence enveloped the couple, tranquility feeling like an unspoken choice. What was it? A week of solitude hadn't answered, escapism a poor solution for such a problem. The careful hand on his bicep grounded him.
"I can't read your mind, Dazai," the blonde said sadly, words holding more weight than usual.
Pushing down the fear felt like swallowing his own tongue, mouth refusing to let out his voice.
"Calm down. I am not going anywhere," Kunikida said firmly, palms carefully cupping his partner's jaw.
A thumb lightly caressed right underneath the lobe of his ear, sensation tickling slightly. Dazai gripped at his companion's wrists, only then feeling safe enough to close his eyes. Deep breaths. In. Out. In. Out.
The brunette noticed the slight shine to the man's eyes. Such a heartbroken expression didn't belong on that face. Determination crushed his ribs, forcing his words out.
"Kiss me already, Kunikida-kun," the teasing tone fell flat, hardly helping to diminish the unease.
The blonde let out a quiet sigh, lips quirking up. Dazai shut his eyes once again, courage slowly bleeding out of his body. He couldn't back out now. Careful fingers softly moved chocolate strands. Kunikida lightly pressed his lips to Dazai's temple, touch so gentle and sweet. The brunette's lip wobbled – the tender gesture sudden. Time moved like honey, the kiss lingering on his skin.
"I told you not to push yourself," the man said with another sigh.
Kunikida looked away, hair shielding his expression from prying eyes. It irked the brunette more than he liked.
"Come one then, I have to keep an eye on you," the man said with a huff.
"Kunikida-kun is just a pervert," Dazai cooed, pleased when the blonde quickened his pace stiffly.
"No, you are just irresponsible," his partner said curtly, carefully opening the bathroom door.
"Just admit you want to get me naked," the brunette giggled as he poked his awkward companion.
Kunikida simply huffed, head stubbornly not turning in Dazai's direction as he began preparing the bathtub. The lack of response was strange. Was he that disgusting to look at? He knew the answer to that. The burning sensation returned to his eyes and he giggled in confusion. His body was really giving him away tonight, conflicting feelings shredding his insides into ribbons, emotions dripping out in crystal droplets. The brunette tried to focus on the water pouring, steam creeping up the walls, and painting the mirror. Kunikida grabbed a strange orb, turning the water a pretty shade of blue. The familiar scent of fresh linen filled the air.
"So this is your secret," the young man teased quietly, voice lax and dreamy.
The blonde man carefully splashed his partner, mouth pulled into a timid smile. What color were his eyes? He couldn't tell.
"Just get in already," he said, not unkindly.
Kunikida turned around carefully, slowly undressing and folding his discarded garments. Dazai couldn't help but stare at the defined lines, constellations of freckles scattered across his shoulders. Sometimes he forgot how truly strong his partner was, how heavy the burden he carried was. Compared to that he...
Shaking his head clear of such thoughts, Dazai moved to remove his coat. His shirt and pants followed in a messy pile on the floor, momentum being the only thing keeping him from panicking. The tension made the setting uncharted territory, no matter how many times they had seen each others' bodies. Removing his bandages was where Dazai paused. It was about time to get new ones, old fabric crusted with mildew. The stash under Kunikida's sink had everything he needed and even his usual brand ¬– for those nights when changing his soaked bandages was all he could do for his reckless partner.
Dazai looked over to his companion whose eyes were still stubbornly tracing the invisible patterns on the wall. The lack of interest irked him as he ripped the last article of clothing off in a stubborn fit. He had never cared what others saw him as good looks never being anything more than a tool to soften the hearts of women. But now he realized that even someone as detached as him could feel insecurity stuffing his brain with cotton. Forcing himself into the water did wonders to remove any thoughts from his head. The water in the bath almost scalding on his irritated skin, Dazai muffled a yelp into his bent knees.
Even Dazai had to admit their position was less than romantic while staring at his partner's back, distance enough so not a single point of touch was shared between them.
"Kunikida-kun, do you plan on watching me with your back turned?" Dazai teased quietly, disappointment hidden in the whisper.
A low grumble was his only answer. Dazai smiled slyly, arms outstretched towards broad shoulders. But before he could touch the glistening skin the brunette paused. His companion's posture was rigid, spine coiled with tension. The desire to poke and prod bled out of his fingers, leaving only the perpetual feeling of tenderness the man stirred within him. Before he could stop himself Dazai found his fingers buried in silky locks. His eyes sparkled with childish delight when Kunikida's body relaxed slightly, head barely leaning into his fingers. To have such an effect on the man felt like a sin, but he was too busy twirling the strands on his scarred fingers to care.
Just as he was about to pull away from his joyous playtime a voice interrupted him: "I can't reach the shampoo near you. Could you wash my hair?"
Dazai almost couldn't believe his luck as his hands tried to elegantly fumble with the bottle cap. He recognized the earthy scent that clung to the blonde detective and the knowledge filled him with glee. Being able to experience such a thing with a head full of oxygen and skin free of river water was something else entirely.
Giddy digits created lavender suds as Dazai inched a little closer to his companion. It felt like sneaking up on someone with their back turned, but he wasn't strong enough to face him head-on. Asking for anything more than what he was given strengthened the feeling of inadequacy he had tried s hard to bury. A hand on his wrist silenced his brain and Dazai looked towards Kunikida. The slight turn made the bright apples of the blonde man's cheeks stand out ¬– the sight almost distracting Dazai from his words.
"If you keep scrubbing my hair will fall out, Dazai," the man huffed out.
The words would not reach the brunette's ears as a calloused thumb gently swiped over his pulse. He dared not move a muscle, such an intimate gesture rendering him weak. The quiver in his fingers mimicked his hummingbird heartbeat. However, it wasn't just his hands that were unsteady. Dazai's eyes followed the path from their linked hands to his partner's uncertain gaze. Even with his back turned it was becoming more and more apparent how affected he truly was. Dazai could do nothing but muffle his excitement in his companion's shoulder. When had they gotten so close? He didn't care. The feather-light touch on his wrist became a steady grip as his glee was shyly reciprocated.
The moment was cut short as the water's cooling temperature became too much to ignore. Swiftly they finished washing themselves, Dazai prompting to wash his own hair in fear they won't ever get out if his partner reaches out to caress his head. Kunikida's back is still all Dazai can see as he carefully dresses himself for bed, flannel pajamas hugging his chilled skin. The occasion felt like such a novelty to Dazai, who was used to quick showers and crumpled work clothes. Kunikida seemed perfectly content with his colorful night attire and Dazai almost giggled at the sight.
Kunikida paid him no mind as he set out the futons for them to sleep. The polite distance between them only served to irritate Dazai, disappearing completely as the blonde went to retrieve some crackers. If Kunikida noticed the now double-bed he made no mention of it and simply got under the plush covers.
No matter how crisp the salty snack was between Dazai's teeth, it felt so bland and boring. He had no interest in eating when his partner was lying right by his side, glasses carefully folded and set aside. Being able to see the man's face after a short while of having his back to him posed a far better sight than a silly cookie. Stuffing the snack in his cheek Dazai freed his hands of the package, crawling towards his spot on the futon. Dazai never claimed to be a decent man – even now he moved to the edge of the futon, face inches away from being smothered in his partner's broad chest. In his sleep-muddled mind, he could tell that Kunikida too must have moved closer for Dazai to be able to reach him.
Kunikida moved his arm over Dazai, reaching for the blanket tossed haphazardly to the side. As he was covered by the soft fabric, the brunette couldn't help but stare up in indignation. He was messing with him. To not use such an opportunity after the evening's mood was almost insulting. But at this point giving in and asking for something would hurt his pride more than his previous outbursts. So they simply stared. Dazai searched for an answer in the seeping darkness but fought to his dismay he couldn't tell what the other wanted. A firm hand on the back of his neck broke him out of his reverie and his cheek was gently pressed against a fuzzy shirt.
"Dazai, just like I can't read your mind, you can't read mine," the blonde detective whispered fondly.
"If you want to ask me something, do it."
It was strange. The words were direct, just as they had been before. But now, tucked away in the dead of night, his partner's heartbeat matching his own, Dazai didn't feel the cold sensation of fear trickling down his spine. Unwavering warmth kept him afloat as he sunk further into the firm embrace. Denying the shift in their partnership seemed silly now, as sleep no longer seemed so frightening with steady arms to hold him.
And yet he couldn't find it within him to say those words first. It seemed too jarring a statement for such a quiet moment. Was it selfish of him to want to hear them though?
"Kunikida-kun, I promise I won't run away this time. So..," voicing his request didn't help the strange feeling dissipate, words losing their voice.
"Osamu, I love you," the firm voice provided carefully.
The fear was still there Dazai realized, but this time he found the strength within him to reach out and hold his partner tightly, enough to keep him from ever running away. With every passing second, his muscles relaxed, his body falling limp. And yet there was nowhere to fall, the arms around him never once faltering, holding him carefully through his plight. A breathy laugh escaped Dazai's lips as he was able to bask in the words whispered to lovingly, fear no longer ripping away his delight.
Kunikida gently covered his partner's smile with a kiss, lips molding into a delicate push. Dazai battled with himself, searching for courage in his elation as the blonde moved away slightly. He felt unable to express everything in a few small words, tone inherently deceitful.
"Dazai, I can't read minds, but I am not blind. Stop worrying and go to sleep," the voice of his partner assured.
The wave of emotion that washed over him was too much for his sleepy brain to handle, so instead, he simply closed his eyes, content.