Work Text:
“You’ve been acting strange lately.”
Dazai looks up from his computer to squint at Kunikida. Before he can say anything, Yosano is already butting in.
“He’s always strange.”
“Stranger than usual.”
Dazai furrows his brows, but when he opens his mouth to defend himself, Yosano is interrupting him again. “That’s impossible. He’s always a freak.”
“Hey!”
She graces him with a kind look. “I mean it affectionately.”
Dazai pouts, hmphing before going to answer Kunikida’s original statement-
“You know, he has,” Atsushi muses aloud. “Dazai-san, is something the matter?”
“I-”
“You’ve stopped drinking coffee,” Kunikida observes aloud, pointing one finger in the air, followed by a second as he lists, “And when we all went for drinks last week, you had tomato juice. ”
Dazai makes a frustrated noise. “If you would let me explain, I-”
“That’s true,” Yosano says thoughtfully, “I didn’t think much of it at the time,but it figures you’d only be healthy when you’re covering something up.”
“Maybe I just-”
“You don’t even like tomato juice,” Ranpo says cheekily, “You almost spit it everywhere.”
“Why would you order tomato juice, then, Dazai-san?”
“I-”
“My theory,” Kunikida pauses to push his glasses up his nose dramatically, “Is that you’re sick. Although, I can’t imagine you would actually do anything different to take care of yourself if you were …”
“Oh?” Yosnao redirects her attention to the brunet, eyes zeroing in, laser-focused as her gaze rakes over him appraisingly. “Do you need treatment?”
Dazai grimaces. “Absolutely not. No way in hell are you getting your grubby mitts on me, especially while I’m pr-”
“No fun,” Yosano cuts him off, tittering.
“You’ve been lazier than usual lately; are you sore? Does walking hurt?” Kunikida asks, pushing his chair closer to Dazai’s desk.
“Your ankles are swollen,” Ranpo points out helpfully. Dazai sends him a glare. He most certainly knows what’s going on here, but has chosen violence, it seems.
Atsushi leans over the desk to peer at his pant legs. “Did you gain weight, Dazai-san?? He pauses, blustering, “Not that that’s a bad thing! I just-”
“You look cute with a tummy,” Yosano points out, grinning kindly at him, “It suits you.”
“Yes, it does,” Kunikida accedes, “But are you ill?
Dazai makes a frustrated noise. “I’m not sick! I’m pre-”
“Your skin is glowing. Did you eat some kind of radiation?” Kenji asks, poking his head into the conversation.
Dazai throws his hands in the air. “I’m pregnant!”
Silence envelops the office. Kunikida freezes, pen held aloft above his notebook, Yosano’s mouth open mid-sentence. Kenji sneezes.
“Dazai-san…” Atsushi starts, eyebrows knit.
Dazai exhales through his nose. “Yes, Atsushi-kun?”
“...Why didn’t you just say so?”
“Christ, Dazai,” Kunikida says, “You should have just said that from the start! We were worried.”
Yosano shakes her head, tsking. “Really, Dazai. I was going to start on a diagnosis. Lead with that, next time.”
Dazai makes a frustrated noise, tearing at his hair. “You people-”
“Pregnant, huh?” Kunikida interrupts thoughtfully, “I suppose this means we will need to start collecting baby items.”
“What? No, Chuuya and I can do that ourselves-”
“Yeah, if our baby is going to have a comfortable childhood, we need to start getting things ready as soon as possible…” Yosano muses. Kunikdia nods, flipping to a new page in his journal and jotting a few things down. From where he’s sitting, Dazai can make out the words diapers , knife , and talcum powder.
Wrinkling his nose, he opens his mouth to comment on it, before something else occurs to him. “ Our? What do you mean, our-”
“I’ll see if Kyouka has any old plushies she’s willing to part with,” Atsushi says helpfully.
The doctor nods. “That’s a good idea, Atsushi. I’ll-”
“None of you are coming anywhere near my baby!” Dazai cries, but the others pay him no mind.
“I can cook for him,” Kenji says bashfully.
“We don’t know whether it’s a boy, Kenji,” Yosano says, “But that’d be cute. Do you want a little brother?”
Dazai balks. “Kenji isn’t my kid-”
“We have a lot of work to do,” Kunikida interrupts. “We’ll have a meeting this afternoon where I will give you all your assignments.”
“I call baby clothes duty,” Yosano says, “Naomi, do you want to join me?”
Looking up from where she’s leaned over her brother’s shoulder two desks away, Naomi grins. “Yes. I’m already imagining tutu skirts and tiny socks.”
Dazai rests his elbows on the desk, dropping his head in his hands. He can hear the others chattering away behind him, giving him the beginnings of a headache. There’s a cough to his left, and he looks up to see the president looming over him. He’s so tired.
“...Yes?”
“Congratulations,” Fukuzawa says softly, patting his shoulder.
Dazai lets his breath out in a whoosh. “...Thanks.”
“I think you’ll make a great parent.”
“I hope so,” Dazai sighs.