Chapter Text
Ranpo hugged his arms a bit tighter around his chest. The brisk wind that was funneled down the street cut through his clothes. He still couldn’t believe that he had been thrown out of the police academy and with winter on the way too. It was like the world was mocking him in every cruel way possible.
This was the situation that Ranpo found himself in as he wandered from alley to alley in search of something he could either make money off of or scavenge to eat. He was nearing the seedier parts of town when he found something noteworthy. There, wedged firmly between two cold dumpsters, was a child. Ranpo was forced to do a double take (something he didn’t do too often).
Ranpo studied the boy. His clothes might have once been smart, but now they were torn and dirty. The way his cheeks were sunken indicated starvation. It was clear that the kid had been through some rough times. He looked like a feral kitten.
Rampo knelt in front of the younger child. The boy stared blankly past Ranpo as though he hadn’t registered the older boy’s approach.
“Hey kid. What are you doing here alone?” Ranpo demanded.
The younger boy jerked back, clearly startled.
“I said, what are you doing here all alone?” he repeated.
The little boy blinked owlishly at him. Ranpo sighed. He didn’t feel right just leaving this kid on the streets, so he needed an answer.
“Where are your parents or guardians or whatever?” Ranpo huffed, already suspecting the answer.
The younger boy flinched slightly, but gave no reaction beyond that. Ranpo was beginning to wonder if he was mute.
“Alright. So no parents. That’s good to know,” Ranpo mused, “Do you at least have a name?”
The kid eyed him for a long time. That was fine. Ranpo was willing to wait. He sat cross legged on the dirty alleyway.
“Dazai,” the voice was slightly scratchy and very quiet.
Rampo was a little surprised that Dazai didn’t include a given name with his family name.
“Dazai, hm?” Ranpo hummed.
Dazai shrugged slightly, picking at his nails. Ranpo followed the motion with his eyes. Then he happened to catch sight of the scars that peeked out from under the dirty sleeves. Ranpo frowned.The more pieces he gathered, the less he liked the story.
“So how old are you anyway?” Ranpo huffed.
Dazai bit his lip as he hesitantly counted on his fingers a few times.
“T-ten? Dunno. Ten is a nice number,” Dazai mumbled so quietly that a passing car nearly drowned out his words.
Rampo frowned. He would have guessed that the kid in front of him was much, much younger. He was small (not like Ranpo could point fingers, though).
“Tch. You’re too young to be wondering the streets alone, so-”
That got a reaction out of the younger boy. He started so violently, Ranpo was sure that he was going to hit his head on something.
“No! Please. You can’t send me back there! I just want to die,” Dazai’s voice was frantic.
Ranpo could see that the younger boy was one wrong comment away from a panic attack.
“Woah. Calm down kid. I wasn’t going to send you anywhere. I was going to suggest that you come with me. Us strays have to stick together,” Rampo snorted, rolling his eyes.
Really. Kids these days, always jumping to conclusions.
Dazai froze. He waited several minutes like he expected Ranpo to rescind his offer.
“Do you mean it?” Dazai whispered, “You want me to come with you?”
Dazai’s fingers worried at the hem of his dirty shirt. It was an anxious attempt to self-soothe that didn’t appear to be working.
“I wouldn’t have offered it otherwise,” Ranpo sighed, “Come on. You’re too young to be out on your own.”
The two of them started winding their way back towards the sheltered bench that Ranpo had claimed as his own.
Rampo wasn’t really quite sure what made him so attached to the kid. He was not, by his own self-diagnosis, someone who was fond of children. Dazai, however, was different. The kid was both the smartest and dumbest person that Ranpo had ever met. He could follow Ranpo’s train of thought, but then he would ask things like ‘ What’s a hug?’ .
Either way, Ranpo found it strangely endearing. He decided after not long that Dazai was now his little brother. At first it was a teasing nickname, but slowly Dazai grew to accept his new position as Ranpo’s little brother.
It also didn’t take long for Ranpo to learn about Dazai’s unhealthy fascination with killing himself. Dazai claimed he didn’t know why he was so desperate to die. Ranpo could see right through him. Even if Dazai himself couldn’t point out the reason, Ranpo could. The younger kid didn’t think he was worth anything. From what he could gather, Ranpo suspected that whoever Dazai’s previous guardians had been, they hadn’t discouraged these thoughts, instead letting them build to a critical mass.
Ranpo couldn’t bear the thought of a world without bright, young Dazai, so he set about doing everything in his power to convince Dazai of his worth. It was a difficult endeavor that often involved Ranpo forcing himself to sacrifice whatever sweet treat he had scavenged and give it to Dazai.
Slowly, ever so slowly, Dazai warmed up to Ranpo’s efforts. And so it was that Ranpo and Dazai became a family.
Alas, the streets of a city filled with crime are not the best place for two homeless boys.