Archive of Our Own ^beta

This wasn’t on there, but he considered it enough of an importance to shove it between other bullet points for the day even when he knows it’ll mess with his entire day’s remaining tasks.

The ground around the front door is littered with take-out bags that lie empty and contain half-eaten food, yesterday and the day before that- Kunikida lost track of how many days Dazai had been eating easy. What he does keep track of is lunchroom altercations, and he knows Dazai hasn’t eaten at the agency in two weeks now.

It’s disconcerting, without proper nutrition one isn’t expected to perform well, especially not when the person in question already struggles to drag his body along the rhythms that Kunikida would wish for him to adopt. Dazai is his partner and he needs the brunette at his best in case things go south, Dazai doesn’t perform well when Kunikida pushes him too often, it’s on the list after all.

When you flip open his notebook on the first page you’ll find a list of everything Kunikida had learned about Dazai, he keeps track of it like his personal bible and the pointers are the commandments. 

1. Dazai likes to sleep on the job, let him nap for 30 minutes and he’ll be more cooperative.

2. Use a little force only if necessary, he’ll get less productive the days after he’s handled with too much of it, sometimes he deserves it though.

3. His favourite food is crab, bribe him with it for important deadlines and he’ll do his paperwork

There’s more where that came from, but these were the first three he’d ever written down and they always find themselves in the same spots when he gets a new notebook to fill.

The important detail is: Kunikida knows Dazai a whole lot better than people think he does. He knows he’s often played for a fool and falls for it more often, but he knows the brunette’s antics are a cry for attention more often than not. It frustrates and wages war inside Kunikida’s head and he wishes he wouldn’t have to play into dazai’s scheming hands.

When the door opens and tired, weary eyes look straight through him all the hesitation evaporates straight from his mind. He pushes through without asking and takes a hold of Dazai’s wrist to drag him back inside, deeper, further.

“Kunikida-kun, what a lovely surprise to see you here, but wh-“

“I’m here to make sure you eat a proper meal for once you absolutely waste of bandages!” The blonde nigh yells back when his eyes scan across the messy room and fixate on the bags of trash strewn about. There’s not a neat and nice thing in sight but he doesn’t spell it out. 

Dazai stops in his tracks and quiets, something flashes across his eyes and while kunikida can’t read what it means, he understands all too well what the posture he adopts tries to convey.

“Why, Kunikida-kun I have been eating just fine! Really, no need to-“

“Shut up, a proper meal requires proper ingredients. Ones you prepare and cook yourself.” Fingers curling around another takeout bag and lifting it in the air for Dazai to see at his level.

“This isn’t the way to live. Especially not with your pay-check.”

Dazai stills, eyes hidden behind a dark haze before the fake veil of light drapes over him and he claps his palms together. “Oh, that’s what you meant.”

Kunikida won’t fall for it, he’s not that stupid.

“How’s your fridge on ingredients?”

“Empty.” Dazai smiles back.

“Fine, we’ll go out to get some then.”

The sigh of defeat is music to the blonde’s ears and Dazai goes without complaints. He listens to the list of things to do that Kunikida commands him on the way to the konbini, throwing out the trash properly, cleaning the tatami flooring, washing dishes and doing laundry. All things Kunikida knows Dazai doesn’t do unless it’s a bare minimum and base level.

The trip is short because he knows what he wants. Cauliflower, broccoli, carrot, potato, garlic, onion, some sunflower oil, broth cubes and some ground beef. He briefly wonders if Dazai’s kitchen even has the tools necessary to cook the way he wants to. The recipe is simple, it’s a dish he’s never made before and not strictly Japanese cooking, but while it’s a little demanding with your time, it’s also extremely easy to prepare right.

Dazai is quiet all the way through and doesn’t say much when Kunikida finds himself looking through the kitchen for everything he needs. There’s a garlic press, which wasn’t strictly needed, but will make it a whole lot easier and faster as well.

“How often do you cook.” He asks. A question so redundant when he knows the answer already.

Dazai’s wistful smile returns, “come now Kunikida-kun there’s really no need for all this.”

A scoff, Kunikida pushes his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and fixes a fierce gaze straight to the brunette. “There is. Come here.”. 

He brandishes the knife and hands it over, “you know how to handle this. Don’t pretend not to.”

“Boo, when did you get so attentive? It’s no fun if I can’t at least pretend to be bad at it, won’t you show me Kunikida-kun?” he coos in protest. Slender fingers slide around the knife’s handle and he makes a show of dragging them past Kunikida’s hand in the process.

He doesn’t respond to that, he won’t for now.

“Cut the onions into small blocks. Do as I do it. Don’t forget to wash them and your hands beforehand so you reduce the risk of it affecting your eyes.”

A pout, no doubt the result of Dazai having wanted to see the blonde cry his eyes out when cutting onions.

Kunikida takes his own knife and cuts the onion in half, slicing nearly perfectly down the middle and setting the flat side against the board. He slices into the onion but doesn’t sever it all the way through this time. There’s four horizontal cuts but the piece is still held together by the stem that sits untouched. Then he switches the position of his hands. His right hand with fingers curled inside his palm against the stem of the onion. The hand that holds the knife slices vertically now, cutting into the onion in three strokes, down one layer each time to create an easy base to make small blocks. When that’s done he switches around again with the knife going straight across from up to down and finally producing the necessary results when the small pieces of onion splay across the cutting board. Dazai looks intently and the starry-eyes expression he gives feels more genuine than Kunikida has ever seen him.

The brunette follows suit and manages to somewhat mimic the motions. He wastes more of the onion than Kunikida did, but for now the point isn’t to do it perfectly.

Peeling three cloves of garlic, he presses them into small pieces and adds them on a pile with the onion.

“Put the pan on the fire and pour some sunflower oil in. Not too much, just try to cover the bottom in a shallow layer of it.” 

“Aye aye,” Dazai smiles and does as asked. Kunikida adds the onion and garlic in afterwards.

“Stir like that until the onion is soft and somewhat see-through. When you’re doing this alone you’ll wanna wait with this until you’ve actually prepared all the ingredients but we’re with the two of us so you can keep track of that while I continue this- what is it?” he stops mid-rant when the smile that previously failed to resemble any sort of genuine effort reaches Dazai’s eyes in fondness as his face lays in his upturned palms, leaning against the counter as his eyes train on Kunikida’s hands, then his face.

“Nothing~” is all he says.

He’s taken out of it when Kunikida chucks the spatula at him. “Stir.”

He cuts the vegetables in the meantime. The carrots and potatoes in small blocks, the cauliflower is washed and the pieces kept fairly large and rough. 

“Why’s that?” Dazai asks upon noticing the difference.

“We don’t need to eat the cauliflower and broccoli as they are. You know what we’re making already?” Dazai shakes his head.

“It’s a meal soup, an easy one to make that’s healthy, rich with flavour, and doesn’t require too much effort on your end. You’ll see.”

Once he’s done they add water to the pan and let it cook, after that Kunikida shoves the cauliflower and broccoli in together with six cubes of bouillon. “Let it cook like that for a while, meanwhile we can form this into small meatballs.”

“Kunikida-kun, this isn’t a Japanese dish, is it?”

“Not strictly no, I like to experiment here and there. Don’t look at me like that Dazai, I know what the internet is.”

A light chuckle that seems to relieve all tension escapes past Dazai’s lips, “that so? I never took you for the type.”

“Nobody does. I am, unlike your expectations, not actually an old man.”

“Oh, I definitely don’t see you that way.”

“Eyes on the pan, Dazai, the water is overflowing”

“Hey- ah!” The brunette rushes to lift the lid off and let the boiling water calm. 

“What now?” he looks down into the contents and looks wholly unsure of how edible the food looks. Kunikida keeps the smile down when he sees it, but only barely, taking a hand mixer he found earlier out of the drawer.

“This,” he starts as he plugs it into the socket and sets it into the broth. “you just mix it all together, should be soft enough to not give much resistance now.”

Handing it over to Dazai, he does as Kunikida instructs and holds down, swirls the mixer inside to ensure every piece is ground up well. The broth turns a vibrant green with the overwhelming presence of broccoli overpowering everything else. Then he shoves the meat, potato and carrot blocks inside and places the lid back on.

“And now?”

“We wait. Make sure it doesn’t spill out.”

“Okay.”

Charged, nervous. It’s a rare sight to see Dazai unsure of himself. He hardly shows this side of himself willingly and as much as Kunikida would love to believe he’s simply trusted enough to be shown on purpose, it’s much more likely that Dazai’s weary mind is making it difficult to keep the mask so tightly wound around his face.

“Hey, Kunikida-kun.” Dazai starts after a period of silence, “Why did you come here?”

He doesn’t feign a response when he sees the lost expression the brunette wears. “You need to take better care of yourself.”

“I’m sure you didn’t go through all this trouble just for that?”

Kunikida clears his throat, “No, I would, but in this case you’re right.”

Magnetism, he realises it soon enough, realised it soon enough when that damn smirk stepped inside the agency for the first time. The entrance exam, Kunikida has been drawn to the mystery that is Dazai since the very beginning and his denial only dragged him down deeper into that hole.

The step forwards he takes feels against his will, the pull of the mystery that won’t let him go even after having solved it. Dazai’s eyes widen when Kunikida’s hand reaches out and settles gently against his cheek.

“I want you, to take better care of yourself. And if I must help you in order to do so, then I guess I’ll just have to do that.”

“Kunikida-kun, that sounds almost like a proposal-“

“It does not,” Kunikida scoffs but the way his lips curl upwards isn’t hidden anymore. “we’ll get there some day. If you can behave and learn to do basic tasks.” 

He points in the direction of the living room, “Because I’m not cleaning any of that up. Ever. You hear?”

A smile, followed by a breathy, joyful laugh. “I’ll remember that.” The brunette pockets his hands in his coat with his eyes drifting far away, to something Kunikida knows he can never see.

“Thank you.” He finally says after a bit.

“Don’t thank me just yet, you’re not there, we’re just getting started.”

“Scary~ I promise I’ll do my best sensei.” 

Kunikida rolls his eyes and the soft ping of the kitchen timer lets them know it’s finished.

It’s nice, fulfilling, and Dazai doesn’t complain even once while they eat. Kunikida begrudgingly admits this was fun, he won’t say that aloud to prevent the other’s ego from blowing out of proportion, but he likes this, whatever this is.

He’ll get plenty of time to sort himself and his feelings out while helping Dazai regain his place in the world through simple acts of living, that’s what he’ll try if it means getting to see those genuine smiles more that set his heart ablaze just a little.