Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Dazai sighed, sprawling himself across Fyodor’s couch while said man nursed a cup of tea in the chair across from him with a blank expression.

“Fedya-kun I’m boreddd~, are you just going to stare at me all day while I sit here withering away?!” He whines dramatically, even going as far to clutch his chest as if having a heart attack, although his tone was light and teasing, his eyes were sharp and alert, never once straying from the demon in front of him.

Fyodor watches him, eyes tracking every movement as he takes a sip of tea. “I am merely… processing this unexpected turn of events.” He says dismissively. Dazai chuckled. “What’s there to process Fedya?” He teases, before pausing and gasping dramatically. “Did I finally manage to surprise you? After all these years..” he wipes away a (fake) tear in (fake) nostalgia. 

“It was a pleasant surprise I hope?” He inquires. Fyodor watches him almost curiously, but then he just clicks his tongue and says “I’m still deciding.” 

Dazai smirks “oh? But you’ve been looking for so long, I figured you’d rejoice.” Fyodor narrows his eyes at that comment, knowing that Dazai knows full well why he is not ‘rejoicing’, Dazai ignored the glare and continued his teasing. “I thought you’d *at least* attempt to seduce me to the ‘dark side’ by now but alas-“ 

Fyodor interrupts him by slamming the tea cup down with surprising force, but when he speaks, he speaks calmly. “There will be no ‘seducing’ of anyone. And as for your previous statement, if it was anyone other than you I would rejoice,” Dazai pouts at that statement. “Why, do you not like me?” He says with one of the fakest smiles known to man. 

Fyodor grins, which is really just a show of teeth. “I can’t just manipulate you like everyone else, as you well know. And while I admit, it was fun in the past, having someone who could match my intelligence, but it’s more of an inconvenience now that I know *what you are*.” He says, irritating dripping off every word, lacing it in a poisonous tone that makes the air grow heavy with tension.

The tension doesn’t seem to bother Dazai in the slightest, and he simply hums in acknowledgment, moving to a sitting position. “Well if it makes you feel better, if you were anyone other than you, you wouldn’t have been able to capture me in the first place.” He comments, mostly to himself. Fyodor tilts his head a little, eyes studying Dazais form as if looking at a new specimen he discovered. In a way, he supposed he was. 

“Why are you in the agency?” Dazai raised his eyebrows at that, light amusement yet caution flickering across his face before returning to the neural mask he always wears.

“Finally trying to convert me I see, hate to be the one to break it to you but I have no intention of world domination.” He answers, waving his hand dismissively. Fyodor purses his lips. “You didn’t answer my question.” He pouts out. 

“It’s a stupid question.” Dazai counters, eyes narrowing a bit, daring him to keep pushing. Fyodor chuckles darkly, punching in a perceived weakness like a cat pounces on a rat. An ironic analogy, but accurate. 

“Dazai-kun, the blood on your hands rivals even my own, why are you still trying at this point? You haven’t changed, you never will.” Fyodor states, says it like it’s a fact, plain and simple. That alone made Dazais blood *boil*.  He bristled, glaring at Fyodor with annoyance burning in his eyes. “Don’t get me wrong,” Fyodor continued, “I admire the effort, and your ability to hide your true nature of course, but is it worth it? I mean, half of your co-workers think you’re an idiot, despite the fact you’ve saved their lives more than they can count.” Fyodor tilts his head. “Doesn’t that bother you Dazai-kun?” He asks, leaning foraward a bit to study his reaction. 

Dazai smiled thinly. “I’m not in the mood for your mind games Fyodor.” The switch from ‘Fedya’ to ‘Fyodor’ almost caught him off guard, at least he knew he pushed the right buttons. “I’m perfectly content at the agency, no matter what you may believe.” Fyodor shoots him a disbelieving look, but doesn’t comment, just picks up his tea and takes a sip, seemingly lost in thought. 

“Have you forgiven the world for what it did to you or do you just not care?” Fyodor hummed, and though the question was directed at Dazai, Fyodor didn’t look like he was expecting a response. He was, however, pleasantly surprised when he received one.
“Can it be both?” Dazai asked, propping his chin on his hand. Fyodor nods slowly, finishing off the tea and placing the cup down gently, a stark contrast from earlier. 

“I suppose it can..” there was silence for a minute before Fyodor spoke again. “But, no matter, soon the agency will be dead or vampires, alongside the port Mafia, if all goes well.” Fyodor comments nonchalantly. Dazai raised an amused eyebrow. “What makes you think I’ll join the angels it the agency and the Mafia are out of the picture?” He questions.

 “You’ll have nowhere else to go once the agency is gone.” 

“So why take out the Mafia?”

“I can’t have you running back to your little gravity manipulator now can I?” He says, smirking. Dazai looks less than impressed. “What makes you think I’ll come to you? I have other connections out of Yokohama, and I have enough *dignity* not to stoop as low as to work with a *rat*.” 

He spat the last word with venom. Fyodor didn’t seem hurt by it in the slightest. “But you’ll get what you’ve always wanted.” He cooed. Dazai scoffs, “You might be a genius Demon Fyodor-kun, but there is no way you know what I truly want," Dazai says, a mixture of annoyance and curiosity in his eyes.

Fyodor smirks, eyes glinting like there’s an inside joke only he is privy to. 

“You want to be able to be human dont you?” 

Dazais breath caught in his throat before he composed himself. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He says easily. Fyodor chuckled, smirk widening. 

“Don’t worry, it’s only natural. To want what you cannot have- well, what you think you cannot have..” Fyodor watches Dazai, just waiting for him to take the bait.. and 

“What do you mean ‘think’” Hook, line and sinker. 
Fyodor sighs, shaking his head. “Dazai,” he starts, sounding awfully condescending, like talking to a child. “You are aware that you can literally bend reality to your will? Did it not ever occur to you that you can make yourself human?” He says, an amused glint to his eye. 

Dazai blinked, like he genuinely did not consider the idea. “Then why do I need you?” He asks instead. Fyodor smiles (fake) sweetly. 

“Because, dear Dazai, even with your ability to manipulate reality, there are certain limits to what you can achieve on your own," Fyodor says, grinning like the cat who got the cream. 

“So what you’re telling me,” Dazai grits out, “is that the only way I’ll become human, is if I help you take over the world.” He translates, Fyodor hums in confirmation. 

“So? What do you say?” Fyodor asks coyly. Dazai leans back in his chair, staring at Fyodor with a mix of contemplation and skepticism. “You already know my answer.” He states, Fyodor smiles and stands, opening the door. 

“I’ll tell the others then. Good to have you on our side Dazai-kun.”

Chapter Text

Dazai examined himself in the mirror, taking in the new look Fyodor had prepared for him, it wasn’t to his usual tastes that’s for sure, but it was… something.

He wore a deep green turtleneck with the collar stopping just below his Adams apple. Apparently though, Fyodor had something against his bandages, and made him get rid of all of them! Even went as far as to get him fingerless black gloves so he won’t wear them around his wrist. Fyodor also added a black jacket thrown over it like he had it in his Mafia days to complete the look. He’s pretty sure Fyodor did that on purpose, scratch that, he’s own hundred percent sure Fyodor did that on purpose, nothing with that man is coincidental.

The pants and shoes were just plain black, simple and unassuming. How Dostoevsky managed to come up with.. whatever the hell this was, was beyond him. He noted it down to never trust a rat with fashion ever again. But apparently “if you’re going to be one of the angels you should dress appropriately.” Whatever the hell that means.

That’s not the part that annoys Dazai however, no, the part that’s really pissing him off is the choker Fyodor gave him.

He remembers first seeing it, he was half tempted to punch the rats face in, promises about humanity be damned.

It was actually a rather pretty thing, all things aside, it was black with golden accents going through it in an intricate pattern, pleasing to the eye, but not as pleasing to his mind.

Fyodor presented it with a smirk that said ‘I know you know that I know that you know the exact implications of this, I just want to see how far you’ll go for humanity.’ That bastard.

Now, Dazai was never one to back away from a challenge easily, so he took the choker from his hands to exam it, and very nearly threw a fit when he felt the inside of it, the part that would go against his neck.

“You got your name carved into this.” He states, voice flat with just a hint of annoyance lacing it. Fyodor smiled sweetly, eyes twinkling with unspoken amusement. “is there a problem I’m not aware of?” He asks ‘innocently.’ Baiting him, Dazai knew trying to get a rise, a reaction. Dazai would not stand for it. Nope.

So he had smiled, said no, and put it on. And oh whatever god was real, Fyodors rare shocked expression was worth it. The smug look that plastered onto his face straight after that, however, was not. Fyodor hummed in approval as Dazai turned back to face himself in the mirror, Fyodor moved to stand behind him, resting his chin on Dazai's shoulder as he observed their reflections intently.

Dazai kept his face carefully neutral. “What happened to not seducing me?” He questioned. Fyodor smiled, amused, but didn’t respond to the taunt.

Dazai changed the topic after that, something else lingering on his mind. “What did you do to my coat?” He asks, knowing that demon he’ll probably never see it again, but it belonged to Odasaku, he has to know. “Hm? Oh, that hideous thing, I had it burned.” Dazai saw his smirk in the mirror and nearly lost it then and there. If this is how it feels maybe, just maybe, he should apologise to Mori. But right now, Dazai wants away from this demon who burned Odasakus coat . 

“You don’t have to hang around me this much, I’m not going to run away you know.” Dazai complained, shrugging Fyodors head off his shoulder a bit more harder than strictly necessary. Fyodor didn’t look fazed, just shrugs.

“You know I can’t risk that.” He states simply. Dazai, attempting to gain some sort of upper hand in this situation, makes his eyes go wide childishly. “Aww! You need me for your world domination plan! I’m honoured~” he teased, eyes scanning for a reaction, because fake control is better than no control at all.

Again, Fyodor didn’t look fazed, but then again, did he ever? “Not necessarily, for that particular plan Fukuchi has the page.” He hums, Dazai lets out a half choked noise at basically being called ‘not important’.

Fyodor noticed and chuckled, smiling sweetly, “Don’t worry Osamu, a page doesn’t compare to a book, besides, I have other plans for you.” He says, and Dazai laughs a bit. “If this is an attempt at getting me into your bed then-“

Fyodor scowled at him. “It is no such thing. I simply meant I have a greater goal that I need you for.” He grits out.

“What? Se-“ Dazai gets cut off when Fyodor slaps a hand over his mouth.

“Shut. Up. That, is sinful.” He snarls, Dazai grins cheekily, but nods nonetheless. When Fyodor removes his hand Dazai feels he has a new sense of control, but not much, Fyodor still has the upper hand here, Dazai needs to change that, and quickly.

“So, that ‘grand plan’ you were going on about, care to share?” He asks innocently, even going as far as to bat his eyelashes. Fyodor scoffs at the display but turns on his heel, making a vague gesture for Dazai to come with him. And like a trained dog, Dazai follows.

Chapter Text

Fyodor led Dazai towards a simple room with just a desk, a laptop and a bookshelf, overall it was very plain, the desk sitting in the middle of the room with a chair beside it, though there was no scrapes on the ground where it would be, so this room obviously wasn’t used often. The bookshelf however, seemed a bit more worn, Dazai wondered why, silently turning over the possibilities in his head. 

Dazai walked in behind Fyodor, eyes scanning the room, it was rather small, smaller than Dazai’s apartment. 

Once Fyodor walks in, he goes straight past the desk and to the worn down bookshelf, stopping in front of it. he spares a quick glance to make sure Dazai is following, even going as far as to throw a smirk is Dazai’s direction when he realised he was. Usually, Dazai would be pissed, but dammit he wanted to know what this super duper secret evil plan is! 

Fyodor ran his hand over the spines of the books before pulling one out (not all the way, just a bit, like you’d see in movies) and a series of locks click and the bookshelf swings open, revealing a hidden room. He turns back to Dazai with a self-satisfied smirk, looking extremely proud of himself and… 

“Are you serious right now!? Out of all the things- you’re a criminal mastermind why are you being so cliché!” He yells. There was more angry Dazai noises following that and Fyodor frowns, extremely upset, looking at the bookshelf and back to Dazai. 

“..I thought it was cool.” He says, almost like a scolded child. Dazai scoffs, rolling his eyes in exasperation. "Cool? It’s the most obvious thing you could’ve done.” He grumbles, taking personal offence to this. Because, cmon, not even he did that on his emo phase, and he did a lot of things he regrets, but cliché? Ain’t one. 

Fyodors lips twitch downwards but he doesn’t say anything, just walks into the hidden room trying to hide his wounded pride.

Dazai follows behind, muttering about “cliché”s and “been done before”s. 

As they entered the hidden room, Dazai continued his tirade, his voice filled with irritation. Fyodor ignored all of it. 

Dazai spun in a full circle, taking in everything about the room- the size, the exits, the papers strewn across the room, the pictures -and came to one conclusion. “You plan to betray the angels?” While it’s phrased as a question, they both know it’s anything but. 

Fyodor hums in confirmation. “The Decay of Angels is simply a means to an end, I have a greater plan in mind, they are much like the agency to you in that sense.” He points out, eyes glinting in a sadistic delight as he says the last sentence, yet still trying to remain apathetic. Dazai stiffens subconsciously. 

“The agency are not a means to an end-“

“If they weren’t you wouldn’t be here.” He points out, not unkindly, just purely logical, yet with a slight hint of amusement, like everything Fyodor does is. 

Dazai's eyes narrow, a glint of defiance flickering within. Fyodor noticed and his jaw clenched. He couldn’t lose him now “You want to be human dont you?” 

They stare each other down for a few minutes before finally Dazai speaks.

“So how are we going to defeat Fukuchi?” It was an obvious topic change, but Fyodor accepted it nonetheless. 
Fyodor smiles. “I’m glad you asked. The sword is a problem-“

“Obviously.” Dazai interrupts, giving him a deadpan look. 

“- the sword is a problem” he repeats, sending a side eye to Dazai. “We don’t have many abilities to counter that-“ 

“I realised.” He doesn’t even care about what he’s saying at this point, he just has this overwhelming urge to be as annoying as possible to anyone, namely, Fyodor, Kunikida and Chuuya. 

“….” He takes a deep breath, trying to keep his composure. “But, as I was saying” he says through gritted teeth. “We have you.” 

Dazai keeps his face carefully neutral. “You want to use the book? Already?” There is an undercurrent of slight nervousness in his voice, but, as expected, he doesn’t let anything show on his face.

“It’s the smartest course of action.” Fyodor answers simply, drumming his fingers on the table. “Is there a problem?” His eyes scan Dazai, analysing. Dazai smiles, it’s very fake.

 “Of course not.” 

Fake… it’s weird, it feels like everything about Dazai is fake, he’s not even a person, yet he acts like one, every gesture, every expression carefully calculated. It intrigued Fyodor, yet it made him uneasy, at least Fyodor was some sort of human, Dazai however, couldn’t say the same. 

Fyodor leans forward ever so slightly, examining Dazai like a puzzle. Which, to him, was true. 

Fyodor despised the fact he couldn’t tell what was going on in Dazais head, the secrets he was able to keep hidden from him. It was like a puzzle he couldn’t solve, a darkness he could illuminate. It infuriated him. 

But that wasn’t important right now, he could dwell on that later, right now, he needed the book, he needed Dazai. 

He realises he took too long to reply when Dazai raises a half confused eyebrow and he clears his throat. 

“Well, if it isn’t a problem, we should do it now shouldn’t we?” He questions. 

Dazais eyes narrow ever so slightly, “Right now?” He inquired. 

“Right now.” Fyodor repeats, Dazai smiles again. 

Fake, fake, fake.

“Sure Fedya~ if you say so!” Dazai sounds cheerful, it’s like the act he puts on at the agency, a comfort act then. 

Fyodor walks slowly around Dazai, tugging the jacket off of him and depositing it on a couch nearby. 

Dazai watches through half lidded eyes, not saying, barely moving at this point, all masks dropped. Fyodor pulls a pen from somewhere, pulling up Dazais sleeve. 

“Ink should work right?” Fyodor questions, he assumes it will, he just needs to check. Dazai nods once, closing his eyes. 

Fyodor hums and writes slowly, glancing up at Dazai every now and again to check if his expression changes, it never does. 

He finishes, pulling his sleeve back down gently and putting the coat back on him, hands lingering for a second too long before he returns to his desk. 

Dazai opens his eyes finally, finding Fyodor already staring at him. He raises an eyebrow, “am I free to go?” He says sarcastically, Fyodor smiles, amusement glinting in his eyes. “Why of course.” 

Before he even finished saying it, Dazai turned on his heel and left, he didn’t know where to, he’ll figure it out. 

Even though Dazai didn’t see it, he could still feel what was written.. does that make sense? He doesn’t know, but it doesn’t matter, because it’s true. He knows exactly what Fyodor wrote, and it made him sick.

Nakahara Chuuya will die defeating Fukuchi Ouchi.

Chapter Text

Dazai was conflicted. That doesn’t happen often, oddly enough. 
On one hand, he wanted to be human, on the other, Chuuya was his friend… 

Friend was a strange word, it didn’t quite capture the bond they had, but they weren’t more than friends.. maybe they used to be, once upon a time, but not anymore. 

A means to an end. That’s what Fyodor said, he knew he wasn’t actually talking about the agency, he was talking about Yokohama. 

This is the choice he has to make, himself or the city, and everyone in it. He sits at the edge of the cliff, legs dangling off, and briefly thinks to himself;

What if I jump?

It’s useless, he knows, the book will save him anyway. But he can never get rid of that thought, no matter what he does. Leave the Mafia, join the agency, fulfil  Odasakus wish, yet that thought still lingers. 

Will he ever truly escape the city that has become his home, or will it forever hold a grip on his heart and soul?

…Dazai sighed, it’s been a while since he’s been this sentimental. Emotions, are few and far in between with him, don’t get him wrong, he can see feel like, joy, anger, annoyance. But the last time he’s felt something.. and I mean really felt, was too long ago for him to remember. 

Dazai Osamu can feel emotions. 
But 
Dazai Osamu can’t feel emotions.

Fyodor plans to destroy this city. Dazai needs to know he stands on that.. 
for the last four years, he’s been selfless, he’s saved this city numerous times, why can’t he be selfish for once? 

 As Dazai stood there, watching the sun set over the horizon, he knows he has made his choice. 

I’m sorry Odasaku..
_____

Atsushi looked around Anne’s room, frowning slightly. He turns to Ango, “Any news on Dazai?” He can’t keep the nervousness out of his voice. Atsushi doesn’t like the idea of Dazai being anywhere near Dostoyevsky, no matter how much the agency insist he will be fine. 

Ango shakes his head. “Nothing beyond the usual, but don’t worry, he’ll be fine.” Ango reassured, but it didn’t sound too convincing. 

Oddly enough, things were starting to die down a bit, which they should be grateful for, but Atsushi knows what little luck the had was already used up, somethings coming, he just doesn’t know what.

As Atsushi paces back and forth in Dazai's absence, he decides to delve deeper into Dazais lack of communication. 

Even in mersault, Dazai would send little random messages like;

 “oh how I wish to die~”

“Prison is boring. 3/10, would not recommend.” 

“I hate this rat.” 

But for the past few days, radio silence, nothing, not even a hello. His heart was still beating, he was still alive, but he wasn’t talking to them, it confused Atsushi. Why wouldn’t he talk? Is he mad at him? 

He keeps pacing, so lost in thought he doesn’t hear anyone walk up to him until he heard a soft, “meow”. 

He jumped, turning to the cat?! who made the noise. “M-mii-chan?!” What are you doing here?!” He mutters, surprised on how Harunos cat ended up in Anne’s room.

Mii-chan meows in response, turning and walking away, seemingly wanting Atsushi to follow him. 

Atsushi doesn’t know why he does, but he feels like this might be important. He’s always had an off feeling about that cat, he had no idea why though, probably the tiger part of him tricking his subconscious or something.

Mii-chan led him to the exit door of Anne’s room and sat down patiently, waiting for Atsushi to open the door. 

As Atsushi tentatively opens the door, he is greeted with a gust of cool autumn air and the sight of a dimly lit corridor. 

He frowns, “I don’t remember this being here…” he mumbles to himself, stepping out into the corridor. Mii-chan meows and makes a mad dash down the corridor into a room. “Hey- wait!” He says, mostly to himself, and sprints after. 

Atsushi ends up in a dark room with a dim light illuminating some papers, he frowns, looking around the room, still trying to figure out just where he is. He can’t see Mii-chan anywhere either, oddly enough. He could’ve sworn he saw that cat like- two seconds ago! 

He walks over to the papers, curiosity taking over and he scans over the papers, it seems to be a report of some sort? 

His eye catches on the word mersault and he instantly becomes more alert, does this have anything to do with Dazai? Could the answer to his questions be in here?? He grips the paper tighter and reads faster, becoming increasingly more concerned with each sentence. 

Guards found dead, brutally murdered 

No outer wounds, autopsies came back with nothing

..what? What does that mean? What is this talking about? Did the guards at Dazais prison die? But he didn’t say anything about that. Confusion. That about sums up Atsushis feelings right now, utter, undiluted, confusion. 

He gets to the last page and nearly drops the article, what.. 

He reads the line again to make sure he’s not seeing things, but there it was, clear as day. 

Dazai Osmau and Fyodor Dostoevsky escaped Mersault. Authorise are currently conducting a manhunt but there are no signs  of them yet.

So.. Dazai is alive, but he’s not at Mersault? But- but that was the plan. So why is he- 

Did Fyodor do something to him? That seems like the only logical conclusion! Dazai-san obviously wouldn’t betray them, the agency is his home, there is probably just a change in plans- or- or maybe Fyodor is doing something to stop him from communicating! He needs to tell the agency- he can’t let his mentor be hurt by that demon. 

••••••

He doesn’t know Dazais a demon too.

Chapter Text

A voice spoke up from behind Atsushi, startling him,

“You don’t have much time.” Atsushi jumped, whirling around to see a man who most definitely wasn’t there a second before, the man was sitting down in a chair behind him, holding a walking cane of some sort. He was fairly well dressed, and had split hair and a well groomed moustache. 

“Who are you?!” He demanded, shifting into a defensive position. The man narrowed his eyes in a slightly offended manner. 

“Is that lad teaching you nothing at the agency? Where are your manners?” The man demanded in an offended tone and Atsushi faltered slightly, because…

What?!

“I- um- I-“ he struggles to get words out. The man chuckles, “Relax boy, I’m only joking with you.” He stands up and extends his hand. “Natsume Sōseki, founder of the Armed Detective Agency, I presume you’re that were-tiger I hear Dazai rattle on about.” The last part is said fondly, a hint of nostalgia in his eyes.

“You know Dazai?!” He asks, completely skipping over the whole ‘founder of the agency’ part. Natsume simply raises an eyebrow and Atsushi realises he hasn’t shook his hand, he let out a little embarrassed laugh as he shakes his hand. “Yeah, um, I’m Atsushi Nakajima.” He introduces timidly. Natsume smiles. “Good lad. Now let’s go, we don’t have a lot of time.” Natsume says and Atsushi is reminded of earlier. 

“You- you said that already, what do you mean? What are you talking about?” He questioned in a confused and slightly panicked tone, “is this about the decay of angels? Is it about Dazai?!” He frantically asked, and Natsume sighed, holding up a hand as if to say; shut the hell up I’m getting to it.

“I’m afraid.. it’s about both.” He responds carefully, picking every word with care. 

“What? What do you mean? Is this about that report?!” Atsushi asks, wide-eyed. Natsume nodded once, 

“I’m afraid… there’s something bigger at play here.” As Natsume's words echoed in the room, Atsushi felt a shiver run down his spine.

“…it’s about the book isn’t it? But- what does Dazai have to do with the book?” Atsushi felt like he was missing a major piece of this puzzle, something that wasn’t adding up. 

Natsume sighed and stood, making a vague gesture for Atsushi to follow him. “I’ve known Dazai for many years, since he was a boy, younger than yourself.” He smiled fondly at the memory. “Dazai has always had secrets, some of which I couldn’t figure out- well, for a time.” He chuckles and turns to Atsushi. “Don’t try figure out a part of Dazai you can’t see. Try save the one you can.” 

Atsushi is at a loss for words, his mind reeling with the weight of Natsume's enigmatic words. He swallows and steels himself, gaze on the ground. “What do I do?” He asks half desperately, he hears Natsume chuckle softly, 

“Kids these days.. you don’t have to do anything, not alone. But as for what the Agency needs to do..” he sighs “I don’t know Dostoevsky’s plan, and I don’t know a hundred percent how Dazai fits into it, but I do know that, if we don’t stop them.. the city, if not the world is at stake, do you understand me boy?” His voice gradually starts to harden over his mini speech until it’s like steel. 

Atsushi nods, he loves this city, he will protect it, and looks up to tell Natsume as such, only to find him gone, a calico cat with too wise eyes a few steps away from where he should’ve been. 

The cat seems to nod back and struts off, leaving Atsushi in the dark hallway, Atsushi smiles to himself a bit; somehow, when  a storm was coming, he managed to find people to help clear it.

—————

Dazai Osamu could feel a storm coming. Fyodor Dostoyevsky could feel it too, though, he had a considerably better attitude about it than the former. 

Dazai Osamu was once again sprawled across Fyodors couch like he was less than a day prior, though this felt way different. There was a sense of finality in the air, it seemed an awful lot like the feeling of death. Now that, that was something Dazai was familiar with. 

He heard footsteps approaching from the hall and opens one eye to look at the newcomer, granted, Dazai already knew who it was, considering there was no one else in this house, but he still didn’t want to let the rat get the jump on him. 

“Dazai dear, back so soon? I thought you’d be gone longer,” He lets out a little ‘tsk’ at the fact that Dazai still has his shoes on and bats his legs off the couch, sitting down himself. “Speaking of, may I ask where you went?” He inquired. 

Dazai let out a little offended noise at his legs being shoved off the couch, but just kicks his shoes off and puts his feet in Fyodors lap (he knows if he were to have his shoes on Fyodors lap, book or not he would be dead by tomorrow. For a rat, he’s such a clean freak). “I’d tell you, but I’m sure you already know,” he pauses for dramatic effect, before reaching up and running a figure across the choker. “Tracker.  I must admit it took me a bit to realise, I’m almost impressed.” 

Fyodor smirks, running a hand over Dazais ankle, Dazai stays carefully still at the motion. “Well.. I had to make sure you wouldn’t run away now didn’t I?” He purrs, his voice dripping with mischief. 

Dazai clicks his tongue, “Fedya darling, we both know you wouldn’t really be able to stop me if I wanted to.” He says, eyes glinting, and deliberately ignores the way Fyodors hand tightens around his ankle, sending a jolt of adrenaline through Dazai's body.

“We both know you wouldn’t do that.” Was Fyodors response, and they left it at that.

Chapter Text

“So, when is the.. thing happening?” Dazai asks randomly, a hint of nervousness in his tone betraying his emotions. 

“The thing? Darling, please be more specific.” Fyodor smirks, toying with Dazai's nervousness, Dazais eyes sharpen into a glare, knowing that Fyodor knows damn well what he’s talking about. 

“Chuuya.” 

The word was barely more than a growl, but it carried a heavy weight that hung in the air, filled with unresolved tension and bitter memories. Fyodor eyes glinted, reading every word left unsaid and silently delighting in it. 

“Still on a first name basis? After all these years?” He asks instead, a mocking tone hiding underneath the seemingly innocent words. Dazai gently rubbed his wrist, where the words Fyodor wrote sat, a heavy weight for him to carry, and Fyodors eyes followed the movement. 

“Yes.” A single word. That all he said, that all he needed to say really. Fyodor had to blink a bit to compose himself, he wasn’t expecting Dazai to be so blunt. 

“..Ah. I see.” He says dumbly, suddenly unsure of how to proceed. The tension between them became palpable, as if the weight of their unspoken words had multiplied tenfold. 

The silence was as heavy as it was awkward, and neither knew what to say. Dazai clears his throat 

“So, when?” 

Fyodor takes those two words and grasps onto it, immediately taking back control of the situation. 

“If my predictions are correct -which they are- there will be a meeting about it tomorrow.” He says, and Dazai raises an eyebrow. 

“Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.” He confirmed, a hint of a smirk playing at the corner of his lips. Dazai looks down, whether out of grief or just calculation, Fyodor couldn’t tell. 

“A tripartite meeting…” Dazai mumbled to himself, and Fyodor frowned, cocking his head. 

Ironically, though Fyodor seemed to know everything, he never actually bothered to learn how Yokohama worked. In his defence though, it was just another city in his search for the book, he didn’t know it would be here at first, and when he did, he didn’t have time to learn, he was a bit busy not getting killed by the very same thing he came here for; the thing that is currently standing less than a foot away than him in his own house. Leaning against his wall with his arms crossed like he owns the place. Fyodor can’t really bring himself to care. 

“Is that important?” He asks instead, not daring to voice any of his other thoughts aloud. Dazai shot him a half-disappointed half-exasperated look. 

“The agency, the Mafia and the government. Though considering half of the government are under your thumb, it’s probably just going to be Ango and a few of his goons.” He says with a wave of his hand. Fyodor hums, taking in the new information with a blank expression. 

He contemplates the extent of his power, realizing that his influence reaches far beyond what he initially thought.

“I wanna meet your clown.” Dazai randomly blurts. Fyodor blinks. 

“Huh?” Because, what? Who? When? Where? How? 

“Your clown. I want to meet him.” He says it in the most obvious tone, looking at Fyodor like he’s stupid, it takes a minute for it to actually click. 

“Nikolai?” 

“Yes. Him.” 

“Why?” 

“He seems fun, I want to meet him!” Dazai says impatiently, looking much like a child, Fyodor frowns. “You only want to meet him because he wants me dead don’t you?” He questions suspiciously. Dazai pauses, giving a guilty smile. “So can I meet him?” He asks innocently. Fyodor sighs, feeling a strange mixture of annoyance and amusement. “No. You can’t meet him.” 

Dazai pouts, “What about the casino guy?” 

“No.” 

“The vampire?” 

“No.” Why is Dazai so insistent on meeting the angels?!?

“Kamui?” 

“Oh most definitely not.” He scoffs.

“But Fedyaaaaaaaa” Dazai whines dramatically, his voice dripping with mock desperation, "I just want to bask in the ethereal presence of those celestial beings, to witness their light and grace.” He says, holding a hand to his heart. 

Fyodor sighed in exasperation, thoroughly done with Dazais bullshit. “Dazai. No means no.” He says sternly, feeling like a parent scolding a child. 

“Why not? They’d be more interesting company than you anyw-“ he gets cut off when Fyodor hooks a finger underneath the choker and pulls him towards him harshly. Caught off guard, Dazai stumbles forward, their bodies nearly colliding.

“Listen to me Osamu, and listen closely.” Fyodor growls, his voice low and dripping with intensity. The weight of his words hangs heavily in the air, entrapping them both in a moment frozen in time. Dazai, a bit dumbfounded by both the tone and the use of his first name, just nods. 

Fyodor pulls the choker again, but more as a reminder this time. “You see this?” He says quietly, his eyes piercing into Dazai's soul. Dazai's heart races, unsure of what Fyodor is about to say. “It has my name carved into it, do you understand me? My name, not Nikolai’s, not Sigma’s, not Chuuya’s. You are mine.” his voice was little more than a a possessive growl, sending shivers down Dazai's spine. Dazai was stuck for a moment on what to say but it was clear Fyodor expected an answer. He tried to find a witty comeback like normal and smirked.

 “Well, if you insist on claiming ownership over me, Fyodor, then I must inform you that I am not bound by names.” Fyodor snarls at the comment, tightening his grip, before abruptly releasing it, taking a step back,

“Dazai, you may not be bound by names, but you are bound by your own humanity.” He counters, and Dazai scowls, the comment shaking his composure slightly. He turns his back to him, “I didn’t ask for your opinion Fedya.” 

He walks off, leaving Fyodor standing in the room alone. Fyodor watches as Dazai's figure gradually fades into the distance, a mix of frustration and fascination swirling in his eyes. Why does Dazai have to make everything so much more interesting? 
_________

Chapter Text

Chuuya Nakahara was not enjoying his day.
Everyone was panicking, trying to get rid of the vampires, and Chuuya didn’t have one chance to sit down and enjoy his wine. 

Oh and did he mention he now has to go to a damn tripartite meeting?! Why can’t that dumbass mackerel just kill the rat already! Seriously! He has better things to be doing! 
With a scowl etched on his face, Chuuya stormed into the meeting room filled with high-ranking officials, his eyes scanning the room for his boss, once he locates him, he strides over, walking past the agency and whatever is left of the government. 

He takes a seat at his left, (his right was always left open for Dazai, even though everyone had their doubts about him coming back) and leans into the chair, raising an eyebrow at half the people in the room who’re staring at him. 

They quickly look away, and Ango clears his throat, speaking up. “We have a problem…” Chuuya nearly scoffed, did he think they didn’t know that? They’ve been fighting for their lives for the past- how long has it even been?! A while, anyway. Half of them are vampires, and the other half are being hunted by the decay of angels and the hunting dogs. He refrained himself however,  he couldn’t afford to make enemies with anyone here; not yet. Not now. 

Chuuya takes a deep breath, suppressing his frustration as he locks eyes with Ango. Ango quickly looks away, clearing his throat again. “We do, however, have a location on Kamui, but- um, we need someone with the power to stop him..” Ango’s gaze kept flicking to him during that whole conversation, and well, Chuuya could take a hint. He knew Ango was trying to imply that he was that someone with the power to stop Kamui. 

Ango then turned to Mori, “We would like to use one of your executives, if you don’t mind.” He says confidently, like he’s absolutely sure he won’t get refused. Mori leaned back in his chair, a small smile creeping across his face. 

“I don’t see why not.” It was a simple answer, with seemingly no double meaning or anything hiding underneath, which was unusual for the boss. (not that Chuuya would be able to tell a hundred percent, but being surrounded by annoying geniuses- read; Dazai -he got used to being able to tell when they were planning an evil scheme to some level.) 

Ango then turned to him, and suddenly hesitated, like he was half expecting him to blow up at any moment, “We believe, we believe we should use corruption. It’s the option with the highest possible percentage of success.” Chuuya arched an eyebrow, studying Ango's face for any sign of deception. Even though he knew they were on the same team, the mention of corruption always had Chuuya wary, unless it was Dazai. Ironically, with how much he claims to hate the bastard, he’s the only one he’d trust with his life. 

“Sure.” He agreed after finding no hidden motive, the agency and Ango looked absolutely shocked, that caused him to raise an eyebrow again. “What? It’s not like I haven’t done it before. Did you tell the Mackerel? Actually, where is he anyway?” Chuuya asked, he had been highly aware that Dazai wasn’t here from the second he walked in, but it only really settled now. 

The effect of his words were felt immediately, as the agency and Ango shifted and sputtered out half sentences. Chuuya frowned, his suspicion growing. Something was definitely off. Yet despite all their sputtering and blabbering like children, none of them could actually manage to say something coherent, Chuuya sighed in annoyance. Guess I’ll have to be more direct then.

“Weretiger.” He said sharply and Atsushi jumped, looking at him with wide nervous eyes. “Y-yes Nakaha- I mean Chuuya-san.” He squeaked nervously. 

“Where’s Dazai?” Chuuya demanded sharply, his voice cutting through the air like a sharpened blade. 

“Uh- well- funny story-“ he stuttered out, looking to the other agency members to help him, no one did. 

“Atsushi!” 

“FYODOR HAS HIM!” He yelped nervously, practically cowering away from him. Everyone from the agency and the government practically held their breaths. Chuuya's eyes narrowed, a mixture of concern and anger flooding his features. Half of the port Mafia looked the exact same, a wave of shock going through them. 

“Why weren’t we informed of this?!” Kouyo demanded, knowing the severity of the situation, the whole city was counting on Dazai to beat Fyodor, without Dazai they are quite possibly screwed. 

For Chuuya though, he realised exactly what this means, corruption.. without Dazai.. so that’s why they were so nervous to ask him. Chuuya's mind raced as he connected the dots.

Ango cleared his throat again, carefully. “We understand if you’re hesitant, but we believe-“ Chuuya cut him off. “I said sure didn’t I?” His answer was nonchalant, like his death didn’t bother him that much, the Mafia expected this, but it didn’t stop Kouyos lips from tightening into a hard line, a single pang of grief going through her. Nor did it stop the sad glance from Kenji, who really just didn’t understand why they had to do this. 

“You said you had his location didn’t you?” Chuuya questioned instead, Ango struggles for a moment but then spoke. “Yes, we do.” He rattled off the location and Chuuya hummed in confirmation. “So that’s it then?” He asks carefully. 

Ango nodded once, he didn’t really have any words to say, but he felt like he must say something, but it was Ranpo who spoke up, breaking the silence and making this whole thing a reality. 

“If you go there, you’ll die.” As he said the words, it brought back a memory to the forefront of his mind, of another man with red hair, another man who was the only one with the power to stop someone, and paid gravely for it. 

His answer was expected, but it still hurt people to hear it, especially the cat perched in the corner of the room, who recognised the words the same as Ranpo. 

“I know.” 

Chapter Text

‘A front row seat’ he had said, a front row seat to watching the only person that he’s ever truly cared about die. How exciting. Can’t you tell he’s just buzzing with excitement?

“Are you feeling alright Dazai-kun? You look a little pale.” Fyodor comments, false concern (but some real, he couldn’t afford Dazai to be having second thoughts, not now.) plastered on his face. 

Dazai smiled simply. “I’m perfectly fine Fedya, though I don’t know why it’s necessary for us to be here.” He says, jaw clenching slightly. He tries to keep the emotions out of his tone, but with Fyodor, it’s that bit harder. 

Fyodor raises one eyebrow but doesn’t comment on it. “Isn’t it best to make sure the plans play out correctly in person? Don’t tell me the Agency has made you soft?” The second question sounded extremely condescending, almost irritated. 
Like he got a new toy to play with only to find out it doesn’t do what it’s meant to. 

Dazai stifles a laugh, not about to be baited by Fyodor's passive-aggressive words. 

Really though, Fyodor is just trying to distract him, the more mind games they play, the less time Dazai has to worry about what’s coming. The thing is, Dazai knows this, known it for awhile, but if it makes it hurt a little less, well, it’s fine with him. It’s almost kind of the demon, if you ignore his motives.

They make their way to an empty airport runway and Dazai raises an eyebrow, “Fedya dearest, we’re in plain sight.” He points out, looking around at the empty runway where anyone could see them. 

“Astute observation.” Fyodor states dryly, and Dazai shoots him a side-eyed look. Fyodor chuckles at that before gesturing around them, “Come now Dazai, surely you can figure it out, no?” He asks, half mockingly. 

Dazai pursed his lips. “Illusions are a rare ability.” He states instead, Fyodor grins. “Rare, but not impossible to find, don’t worry, it’s not your agency boy.” He adds when it looks like Dazai is about to protest. 

“..you had them disguise the space around us instead of us so I wouldn’t be directly touching their ability. Smart, but risky.. Fedya, you’re playing a dangerous game.” Fyodor's smile widens, his gaze fixed on Dazai. There were practically stars in his eyes and Dazai had to physically hold back from rolling his own. 

“Aren’t we all?” Dazai quietly chuckles, a glint of mischief in his eyes. Fyodor was ecstatic, he loved this side of Dazai. No one else can challenge him the way Dazai can. And it was *much* better than when he is hung up about the destruction of Yokohama. Honestly, Fyodor doesn’t really think it’s a big deal, not a big enough deal to upset his Dazai anyway. 

At that moment, Fukuchi appears a bit away from them, and looks around curiously, his eyes narrowing with suspicion as he takes in the scene. Dazai raises an eyebrow at Fyodor, his raised eyebrow saying everything. 

‘You planned this?’

Fyodor answered with a smirk ‘why of course!’ Amused by Fyodor's response, Dazai couldn't help but chuckle softly. His amusement was cut a hit short when Chuuya showed up, looking at Fukuchi with disdain. Fukuchi returned the look, assessing the threat before him. 

Chuuya finally spoke, though the words that came out of his mouth were not expected ones. “I’ll give you one chance, where is Dazai?!” 

Fukuchi's cold gaze lingered on Chuuya for a moment, as if weighing his options. “Why on earth would I know where that agency boy is?” He asks with a half confused expression, because he was pretty sure he was in jail with Dostoevsky, or at least that’s what Dostoevsky told him? 

Fyodor reaches over to Dazai, not so subtly grabbing onto his wrist, right where the words were, as if in consolation. Consolation that Fukuchi won’t find out how hard he played him, consolation that one of, if not the most, powerful ability used in Yokohama will be dead by days end. Consolation that Dazai still belongs to him.

Chuuya scoffed, putting his hands on his hips. “The fuck you mean you ‘don’t know’? I swear to God, if you don’t fucking tell me where that bastard is, I will fucking kill you! I know that stupid ass rat has him so don’t you dare try to lie to me or you will be crushed by vicious gravity.” Fukuchi had to just stare for a moment, he knew the gravity manipulator had a bad mouth but damn that’s a bit much. 

But also- “Fyodor doesn’t have him, if he did, I would know.” He says confidently, jutting his chin out a bit. Chuuya practically bristled at the other’s cockiness, he’s been around geniuses long enough to know not to trust them by now, especially when it comes to other geniuses. 

“Yes he does you dumbass, check the records, those two escaped from jail and Dazai isn’t back which means Fyodor has him!” Chuuya explained, thoroughly annoyed with the fact that Fukuchi couldn’t see reason. 

In the not so distance, Fyodor frowned, this was not going how he predicted, he didn’t like it, he didn’t like it at all. He had carefully planned every step of his intricate scheme, ensuring that chaos and despair would consume the city, but these unexpected turn of events threatened to unravel all his hard earned work, and if those two would just hurry up and kill each other things would go much more smoothly.

He gripped Dazais wrist a small bit tighter, and Dazai let him, surprisingly quiet about this whole exchange. Fukuchi and Chuuya kept on bickering for the next ten minutes and Fyodor was just about ready to walk in there himself and get those two dumbasses to kill each other, when finally, finally,Chuuya spoke the words. 

“O, grantors of dark disgrace, you need not wake me again..” He felt Dazai stiffen from under his touch, some subconscious instinct to help him itching under his skin. 
Fukuchi drew his sword carefully, with all the skill and cockiness as expected from him, yet as Chuuya turned into his corrupted form, Dazai swore he saw just a drop of fear on Fukuchis face. 

Once the fight started, no matter how bad he wanted to, knowing the outcome, Dazai just couldn’t look away. It hurt, seeing Chuuya fight, knowing he can’t save him, while Fyodor, Fyodor was half amazed; he had never seen Chuuya use corruption, it was destruction. Pure undiluted destruction. He could almost see what Dazai saw in him, almost. 

“I don’t want to watch.” Dazai said, yet he didn’t, utterly refused, to tear his eyes away from the scene. Fyodor looked over at him, and just watched him for a moment, before gently tugging his wrist towards him, 
which caused Dazai to look at him, questioningly. Fyodor raised an eyebrow, and a silent conversation passed between them, before Dazai relents and buries his head into the crook of Fyodors neck, closing his eyes tight enough to see stars. Fyodor didn’t say anything, just kept one arm around him and continued watching the chaos unfold. For that, you could almost say Dazai was grateful. 

Then, all of a sudden, everything stopped, completely. It was silent. Dazai didn’t move, he knew what’s after happening. He knew it, because of that slight tingle on his wrist, the little sensation that he gets when something wrote is fulfilled. Fyodor runs a hand through Dazais hair, his touch deceivingly gentle, 

“Let’s go home Osmau.” 

Chapter Text

The next day was very quiet at the agency, more quiet that they ever had. They finally got to go back to the office now that they had Fukuchi off their backs, the hunting dogs started targeting the Mafia more- well, what’s left of them. Dazai was still God knows where, and Chuuya was-… unavailable. One thing that is common now, is that no one will voice, or even think, about the current.. state Chuuya is in, maybe that makes it too real? Who knows. 

The Mafia is in no stable condition, losing an executive overnight was a situation they weren’t quite prepared for, especially such a well liked one, the hunting dogs started targeting them and all the men under Chuuyas command don’t have anywhere else to go. Kouyou is grieving, she isn’t working her best, far from it. And with Verlaine outright refusing to leave the basement they are vulnerable. They have one executive left. They’re angry, Mori realised this too late, the threat of an uprising is there and he does not know how to stop it. 

The agency can’t help either, not only are none of them equipped to handle Mafia politics, (People might think Kyouka is able, but she was just there six months and was still a child, there’s a lot she doesn’t understand.) but they’re just tired

Fukuzawa lost his best friend, he’s grieving, Atsushi temporarily(?) lost his mentor, he’s worried. Kunikida has given up on ideals. Kyouka is questioning the light. Yosano has been reminded of her past, a whole new wave of guilt is consuming her. The Tanizaki siblings did not sign up for this, they just wanted a side job for school. Kenji is worried for everyone, and is slowly by slowly losing his innocence. And Ranpo, Ranpo is just trying to hold them all together. 

It was on this day that someone had knocked on the agency’s door, which caused all of the agency to look up in confusion. 

The newcomer stepped into the office and gently closed the door behind him, Kunikida, always the politest, stands to greet him. “Hello sir, is there something you need?” He asks. 

The man looks around a bit before regarding Kunikida questioningly “Sorry, just to make sure. This is the armed detective agency yes?” He asks to confirm and Kunikida nods. “Do you have an appointment?” He questions, muscle memory forcing him to reach for his notebook but stopping once he remembered its not there, he clears his throat in an attempt to look casual. 

The man raises an eyebrow at the behaviour but doesn’t say anything. “I’m afraid I don’t, sorry. I wasn’t even aware you were open to cases yet?” He says half questioningly. 

Kunikida sighed. “We still do take cases despite recent events, although our two best detectives aren’t here at the current moment. One of them is gone to the shop if you’d like to wait.” Kunikida explains in a tired tone. The man frowns. 

“No no, I don’t actually have a case.” He chuckles. Atsushi looks at him confused. “Then why are you here?” He asks, not caring if he sounds polite anymore. The man doesn’t seem to take offence, speaking in a calm tone the most bizarre words they have ever heard. 

“Dazai sent me.” 

A flip switched. This man immediately had everyone’s attention, Atsushi all but jumped out of his seat and Kunikida was already shaking the man, demanding answers. Yosano appeared out of nowhere and a wild kenji appeared and looked on hopefully. 

“Where is he?!” They all demanded at once, startling the man. “I dont know.” He responded calmly. 

“HOW DONT YOU KNOW?!” 
“I didn’t meet with him.”
“HOW DID YOU GET SENT HERE IF YOU DIDNT MEET WITH HIM!?” 
The man sighed in exasperation, as if he were talking to a bunch of children. “Quite frankly, I don’t have an answer to that. Not one you would except anyway.” The agency was alive with screams and demands, but Kunikida was quick to put a stop to it. 

“We need to think rationally here, Dazai obviously trusts this man, we should consider our options, firstly, what’s your name?” He asks politely and calmly, the red haired man smiled at him, opening his mouth to respond when the door burst open, a shocked looked Ranpo standing with a lollipop in his mouth. 

He stared at the man with a half taken aback expression that had the agency on edge. “You… you’re meant to be dead.” He whispers. 

Oda Sakunosuke turned to Ranpo with a smile. “Sorry to disappoint.” 

              ~~~~~~~~~
Three days earlier

Natsume Soseki waited in a dark alleyway, his eyes darting from shadow to shadow. It wasn’t long before a figure emerged. 

Dazai Osmau regarded said man coldly, despite the man being a familiar figure in his life just a few years prior. 

“I’d like to make a deal”

Chapter Text

Natsume stared at Dazai passively, inclining his head. “What deal are you talking about Dazai-kun?” He questioned. Dazai's lips curled into a faint smirk as he took a step forward, enveloping the space between them.
“I want Odasaku back.” Natsume stilled in shock, not many people were able to surprise him, but Dazai sure took the cake on that one. 

There was silence for a moment, the wind was the only sound you’d hear. “…I’m sorry, I must have misheard you-“ 

“You didn’t.” It was spoken so simply, yet it somehow sounded like a threat nonetheless. Natsume regarded Dazai with a mix of disbelief and concern. “Life and death is not something to be trifled with, Dazai.. Dazai you should know this.” And he did know this, Natsume was sure of that, so why on earth would he ask that?

Dazai's expression remained cold as he continued, "I understand the risks, Natsume. I also understand that Chuuya is going to die in two days. I also understand that you are thsi close to losing to the decay of angels. So I suggest you do as I say.” Dazais voice slowly got colder and colder, more of a warning as he spoke. 

Natsume paused, he finally took in the change of clothes Dazai had, he paused. Natsume was a smart man, no one could deny that. It didn’t take him long to connect the dots. “…you’re working with Fyodor now?” He questioned, his voice tinged with disappointment. Dazai's smirk faltered for just a split second before returning.

It took a moment, but a dramatic sigh cut through the silence, Dazai throwing his arms up in annoyance. “Aw! You got me! No fair~.” Natsume's disappointment deepened as Dazai's nonchalant attitude clashed with the seriousness of the situation. 

“Why.. why would you join him?!” He demanded, he had thought that they had a mutual cause; protecting Yokohama, but no.. Dazai had gone off and ran to Fyodor, and, Natsume couldn’t, for all his intelligence, figure out why. 

Dazai shrugged apathetically, seemingly unbothered by this whole encounter. “Fedya-kun made me an offer I just couldn’t turn down.” Was his only explanation, there was a dangerous undertone in his voice, one that Natsume had seen many times whilst watching Dazai in the fold, but it had become more scarce during his time in the light, Natsume had been a fool for believing it was gone for good. 

He knew better than to push however, no matter how much he wanted to; if he tried to push, he’d end up pushing Dazai right back to Fyodor, he needs to go through with this carefully.

“Oda?” He asks instead, because he can’t deny the question had been at the back of his mind the second Dazai mentioned it, curiosity tinging his thoughts. 

Dazai nodded, accepting the subject change for what it was; and proceeded to tell him his plan. 

~~~~~~~

Dazai and Fyodor had trudged their way back to Fyodors house after Chuuyas demise. Fyodor held onto Dazais hand the whole way there. 

By the time they had reached their destination. Dazai was- simply put -tired. In every way imaginable, which really isn’t anything new; shouldn’t be anything new, with the life he’s led. 

“Hungry?” Fyodor asked him, gently tugging him into the living room and urging him to sit on the couch. Dazai sat obediently, and Fyodor took his own seat beside him, allowing the former to rest his head on his shoulder. 

Dazai hadn’t answered the question he had been asked, and Fyodor recognised what was happening. “Numb?” He had to check just to make sure. There was a minuscule nod of a head to which Fyodor hummed in minor displeasure, not liking that his toy was acting broken again. 

Dazai did this sometimes: shut down, stopped responding, especially after something that upset him. And after Chuuya died, well it was to be expected. 

Still didn’t make it better though. Fyodor thought as his lips twitched down, he pulled Dazai closer, lying down and letting him lay his head on his chest instead of his shoulder. 

Dazai's breathing began to even out, the exhaustion pulling at him in heavy waves. 
He mumbled something incoherent before fully falling into sleep, his mouth hanging half open, drool spilling onto Fyodors shirt. 

Fyodor watched Dazai sleep. (Yes. It’s as creepy as it sounds. He watched him sleep. Period. End of story. He’s just gonna stare at him.) 

He slowly brushed a peice of Dazai’s hair behind his ear, letting out a soft sigh of content as the sight of his rival(?) unconscious sprawled on top of him. 

He placed a gentle kiss to his hair, enthralled by the vulnerability Dazai exhibited when asleep. Only he would be able to see this: this precious, beautiful side to Dazai. Was all Fyodors, and Fyodor intends to keep it that way, no matter the cost. Dazai was his now. 

Dazai was completely unaware of Fyodor's adoration and fierce possessiveness as he slept, lost in dreams or perhaps nightmares. 

Knowing Dazai; it was probably the latter. 

Chapter Text

“Tell me something.” Dazai said, watching Fyodor read a book while absentmindedly run a hand through his hair. Dazai had woken up five minutes and twenty nine seconds ago, if his timing was correct, and Fyodor still hasn’t said a word to him. 

“Like what?” Fyodor inquired, not looking up from his book, his eyes scanning across the pages without falter. 

“Anything.” Dazai responds, he doesn’t really care if he’s being honest, he just wants Fyodor to say something. 

“I don’t have anything to tell you Osamu.” Fyodor felt a flash of irritation pass through him before simply stating, "I find it fascinating how utterly dependent human beings are on each other for social interaction. It’s annoying. Quite frankly, I didn’t expect you to fall into this category, all things considered.” Fyodor sensed a flicker of annoyance tug at Dazai's expression as he stared down at the book. 

“Tell me something else. Something i dont know.” Dazai ordered, pushing himself up slightly and propping his head on his hand, he was two seconds away from ripping the book out of Fyodors hand and the rat knew it. 

Fyodor calmly placed the book down on the table, focusing his attention on the brunet on top of him. “I’m not Christian.” 

Dazai, was actually surprised. He had his suspicions of course, but he mostly brushed them off. Dazai stared at Fyodor blankly for another minute until Fyodor deemed it necessary for him to explain. 

“I was, for the longest time, and in a way, I suppose I still am.” He started, lazily running his hand through Dazais hair still. “But, i think that God abandoned us; or maybe just me. Maybe he might’ve existed, but not anymore.” Dazai continued to stare at him, a soft thought of ‘oh’ echoing in his head. Fyodor raised an eyebrow at him, expecting Dazai to return the favour. 

Dazai blinked owlishly at him, “I have nothing to tell you.” He smiled, but Fyodor didn’t even bat an eye. “Yes, yes you do. You’re a man of secrets Osmau, much like myself. I think I’ve earned the right to one, no?” 

Dazai chuckled, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous glint as he leaned in closer to Fyodor. “Have you?” He purred seductively and Fyodor tightened the grip he had in his hair, using it to wrench him away. 

Dazai hissed in pain, his face contorting in a scowl as Fyodor glared down at him. “Dont tell me I need to train you now. You should know how to behave yourself.” Fyodor said in a scolding tone, it was meant as a warning, but..

 “Aw, you’re blushing.” Dazai teased, scowl being replaced with a triumphant smirk. Fyodor yanked on his hair harder, making Dazai yelp. 

“You are a nuisance.” Fyodor hissed at him, not relenting his grip in the slightest. 

"Maybe so," Dazai grunted through the pain, "but at least I still know how to make you lose your temper.” As Fyodor's grip tightened, Dazai's eyes gleamed with a mixture of defiance and amusement. 

Fyodor clicks his tongue in annoyance, and then, in a move Dazai couldn’t have seen coming, he swiftly pushed Dazai off the couch, Dazai letting out a soft ‘oof’ as he landed. 

But Fyodor didn’t release the grip in his hair, if anything he kept it tighter as he kept him by the side of the couch like a dog. He picked up his book and started reading again, ignoring Dazai. When Dazai tried to get up, Fyodor gave a sharp pull that had his scalp burning, forcing him back down. 

Dazai winced and closed his eyes, trying to endure the pain shooting through his scalp. Fyodor ‘tsk’ed at him, flipping a page. 

When Fyodor wasn’t looking, Dazai stuck his tongue out at him like a child. 

~~~~~~~~

Ranpo was shocked, which was a first for the agency. He raised an eyebrow in disbelief and glanced around the room, hoping to find some explanation for the bizarre scene unfolding before him.

Turning to Oda he asked; “How are you alive?” Oda chuckled and winked, "Let's just say I have a way with luck, Ranpo.” At the agency’s disbelieving looks, Oda straightened. “Dazai needs me for something. I don’t know what.” 

“But I do.” Another voice said. Fukuzawa let out a surprised sound. “Natsume-sensei, what are you-?” 

Natsume interrupted none too kindly. “Oh hush boy. Now is not the time for such useless questions. That is not what matters right now.” He said sharply. 

Fukuzawa nodded once, confusion radiating out of him. Ranpo whirled to him. “You know what’s up with Dazai. Tell us. Now.” He commanded, eyebrows furrowed in concern as he watched Natsumes reaction carefully. 

Natsume nodded reluctantly, “I’m afraid.. Dazai had joined Fyodor.” Ranpo's eyes widened in shock, and his hand instinctively reached for his glasses to confirm while the others reached for their weapons. 

Atsushi stared at him. “That- no that’s impossible. It’s Dazai why would he-“ he broke off in a tiny sob, barely loud enough to even be considered one. Kunikida wrapped a protective arm around his shoulders, comforting him. Ranpo steadied himself, his mind racing to make sense of the situation.

Ranpo frowned. Dazai was secretive, that much was certain, but it ended at the Mafia. Didn’t it? No it couldn’t have. He showed no interests in Fyodor’s plans before. Although, Fyodor is a master manipulator, but Dazai is on the same level. He had to have something Dazai wanted. Desperately. But why even go after Dazai in the first place? It was hardly a sudden change of heart. Dazai must’ve had something Fyodor wanted. The book? Seems like the most reasonable option. There’s nothing else Fyodor has ever expressed a desire in that even Dazai could pick up. But that doesn’t explain why Fukuchi died. If he had the book, why would- he betrayed him. 

Ok. That solves that. Doesn’t explain Dazai’s part in this though. If he had the book in his possession Fyodor would’ve found a way to take it by now; unless Fyodor only just found out. But he no reason to keep Dazai alive then. Take the book, use it to kill Dazai. It’s a reasonable option, so why isn’t Dazai dead? 

Hypothetically, Fyodor might’ve just wanted an opponent. He always had a strange interest in Dazais intelligence, but enough to risk his mission? Doubtful. Then again, would the book even work on Dazai, with no longer human and such- there had to be another reason. There had to be something he wasn’t seeing. And Oda is alive- wait. Wait wait wait. Oda had to have been alive because of the book it’s the only way. But if Dazai teamed up with Fyodor, Fyodor would have the book and Fyodor would never resurrect Oda. So Dazai is with Fyodor. But Fyodor doesn’t have the book. Dazai does(?), and Fyodor needs him alive to get the book- 

All these thoughts and more passed in less than ten seconds, until he came to the horrifying conclusion. 

“Dazai is the book.” 

Chapter Text

Merry Christmas everyone! Sorry- this isn’t an update :(. Im working on the new chapter, promise. I’ll have it out by either New Year’s Eve or New Year’s.

Anyways, just felt like sharing this with you all. Guess who got Crime and Punishment by none other than Fyodor Dostoevsky 😍. I’m literally losing my life!!

Comment below what you all got for Christmas, or if you don’t celebrate Christmas what you would’ve liked or what you’ll get for your birthday!

Merry Christmas, love you all, you’re important!

Chapter Text

Dazai sighed. He had that feeling that someone was talking about him. Oh well. “Fedyaaa I’m boreeddededed” he whined loudly. Fyodors eye twitched, if he has to listen to him for one more second, there will be hell to pay. 

“Dazai. Shut the fuck up or I swear-“ he (thankfully) never got to finish his threat, because a certain clown came bursting through the door. “Hey Dos-kunnn!” Dazai perked up at the sound of the familiar voice, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. (He just wanted someone to help him annoy Fyodor). 

Nikolai bounced in, noticing the both of them he tilted his head. He bounced over to where Dazai was, looking him up and down. “Huh. Dos-kun you never told me you got a new pet!” Dazai gave a sarcastic laugh as Nikolai's words sank in. 

“He’s not my pet.” Fyodor deadpanned, flipping a page in his book. Fyodor pushed him away, letting Dazai get his own chair. With a smug expression, Dazai chimed in, "He's just my temporary babysitter!” Nikolai snickered.

"Before both of you get too comfortable with this arrangement, there are pressing matters we need to attend to," Fyodor interjected coldly, glaring at the two of them. 

Nikolai grinned at Fyodor, “Finally! I was wondering when you were gonna tell me what was going on! I hate being left in the dark ya know.” 

Fyodor kindly ignored him. “The agency is starting to become a bit of a problem. I expected at least some of them to leave after the whole Fukuchi incident, but they remain stubborn.” Dazai leaned back in his chair, a hint of amusement in his eyes. 

Fyodor glanced at Dazai and then Nikolai, “But it seems we might have found a way to encourage their departure.” The second the words left his mouth Nikolais eyes lit up in a sadistic glee, while Dazai narrowed his eyes ever so slightly. 

Fyodor continued, “they’re much too troublesome as it’s been proved before. But they have.. attachments, unnecessary, easily exploited attachments.” Nikolai cracked his knuckles, a wicked grin on his face as he spoke, "Oh, this is going to be quite fun.” 

Dazai saw Fyodors expression, that man knew exactly what he was doing right now. This was a test, Dazai decided. A test, because ‘attachments’ as he so kindly put it, are dangerous. If Dazai still had those attachments, then his worth had just dropped tremendously. 

Dazai nodded in faux agreement with Nikolai, “How are we going to do this?” Fyodor's lips curled into a knowing smile. "All in good time, my dear Dazai.” Dazai raised an eyebrow, not backing down. “I don’t intend to be left in the dark Fyodor. Know that.” Fyodor chuckled softly, the sound laced with pure amusement. But he caved. 

“You, dearest, are one of those attachments.” Fyodor's statement hit Dazai like a punch to the gut. 

“So you plan to me against them? You really think that’ll work?” Dazai's voice held a hint of mockery as he challenged Fyodor's plan. Fyodor waved off Dazais tone with a flick of his hand. 

“Of course it’ll work. Ive been thinking on it for a while, it won’t fail.” Dazai's mind raced as he struggled to process the revelation.

Fyodor didn’t give him enough time to respond, “Nikolai, deliver this to the agency will you?” He said as he scribbled something onto a piece of paper, folded it and gave it to the beaming Nikolai, who disappeared not a moment later to the agency presumably. 

Fyodor stared at Dazai once Nikolai was gone, “Don't worry, you'll make the right choices eventually.” Dazai had to laugh at that, 

“The right choices? The choices we make define who we are, Fyodor, and I will choose my own path," Dazai stated with steely determination.

Fyodor just stared, his expression was blank, but his mind was racing, as it always was with Dazai. 

Fyodor's eyes held a glint of something unreadable as he simply said, "I look forward to watching you try.”

Dazai laughed again, but it was far more challenging than before. He met Fyodor's gaze with unyielding determination, the resolve in his eyes matching the steely tone of his voice.

He stood up, his gaze not leaving Fyodors as he walked past him to the door. 

“Where on earth do you think you’re going Osamu?” Dazai paused mid-step, turning to face Fyodor with a smirk.

“I'm going to write my story, Fyodor. And you'll just have to wait and see how it unfolds.”

Fyodor abruptly stood up, annoyance shining in his eyes, “Do not tell me what I have to do Osamu, you have no authority over me and you need to remember that.” Dazai's smirk widened, and he chuckled softly, "Oh, I remember, Fyodor, but sometimes a little friendly reminder that I can leave at any time doesn’t hurt.” 

Fyodor glared “You wouldn’t.” "Oh, but I would," Dazai taunted, his expression filled with playful defiance.

Abruptly, Fyodor pushed Dazai back and grabbed him, leaving Dazai completely dumbstruck. A blush came across Dazai’s face involuntarily. 

Fyodors lips hovered just above Dazais, a tight grip in his hair to prevent him from going anywhere. 

“Stay..” he whispered, and Dazai openly shivered, feeling his breath against his lips. Unable to resist Fyodor's magnetic pull, Dazai's heart raced as he surrendered to the temptation, nodding as well as he could considering Fyodors hand in his hair. 

Fyodor smirked at him, gently pushing him back against the wall, bodies pressed together. He brought his other hand to trace the lines of his face, leaning in to capture Dazai's lips with his own. 

Dazai let out a sound that was somewhere between surprised and pleasured, allowing himself; just this once, to melt into the touch. 

When Fyodor pulled away after a few moments, Dazai found himself mumbling the words “I’m not going anywhere.” He said it like an oath. Fyodor smirked again, 

“Not even back to your little agency?” He questioned, knowing that his words were laced with both challenge and invitation. Dazai shook his head, “No, not even to them.”

Fyodors eyes lit up with joy as he captures Dazai’s lips again, pushing him harder against the wall, his hand snaked around the back of his neck, his fingers ghosting over the choker. 

“Good boy.” 

Dazai shivered again and Fyodors smirk widened. 

“Aw you like that don’t you?” 

“..Seducer-“ 

“Shut the fuck up.” 

Chapter Text

Atsushi felt his heart stop, figuratively of course, but maybe it would’ve been better if it wasn’t. 

Dazai was the book. It was an insane notion, but according to Ranpo it’s true. He took a shaky breath, trying to wrap his mind around the implications. 

Dazai hadn’t told any of them this… it was shocking, Atsushi wanted desperately to believe Dazai would’ve told the agency—his family.

But no. 

And maybe that should’ve been expected, Dazai never tells anyone his plans, it’s.. part of his charm, in a way. 

The mysterious mafioso turned good! Turned good… right? 

Atsushi hated to doubt his mentor, but with all the facts right there, what was he supposed to do? He just prayed that Dazai would come to his senses.

As Atsushi sat down to ponder his thoughts, the other members of the agency argued. Kyouka came to sit next to him, and he could see the silent pain in her eyes, because Dazai gave her hope. That people can change. 

He wrapped an arm around her and she leaned into his side silently. Neither said a word. 

Ranpo hadn’t said a word either since the reveal, he sat on his desk, head in his hands. He was spiralling, clearly. He shouldve known, he was the one who was supposed to catch on to these things. He was starting to doubt his worth, he wasn’t the smartest anymore: that was Dazai. And he couldn’t have been the best at deductions because Dostoevsky figured it out first! What even was he?

Out of absolutely nowhere, the door swung open, and, lo and behold: Fyodor Dostoevsky.

The whole agency sprang out of their seats in record time, weapons (and abilities) out. 

Fukuzawa glared at Fyodor with hatred. “State your business or leave.” He ordered, to which Fyodor chuckled. 

Atsushi let out an animalistic growl. “How dare you!? You take Dazai and then you have the nerve to just show up like nothing happened!” He was being irrational, he knew that. But it hurt. It hurt more than he wanted to admit. 

Fyodor’s gaze was icy cold as he took in the fury around him. “You all seem awful tense, who died?” He quipped, it was met with dead silence from the agency. 

"You know exactly who! " Atsushi spat, his frustration reaching its peak. Fyodor's smirk widened as he glanced around the room, savoring the tension. 

“Tch, Fedya, you know better than to be harassing them like that,” a disappointed voice spoke from behind Fyodor. 

The agency froze. 

Fyodor tilted his head slightly in the direction of the person, but did not turn his back on the agency. 

“Dazai, darling. I thought I told you to wait outside.” Fyodor cooed in a sickly sweet voice, while said person silently appeared standing at his side. 

The atmosphere in the room shifted as Dazai's sudden appearance sent a shiver down everyone's spine. 

Atsushi felt his throat close up, and he forced himself to choke out some form of a coherent sentence. “Y-you-“ he didn’t exactly do a good job, but Dazai, the bastard genius that he was, immediately knew what he meant. 

“Hm? Oh yes.. I’m with Fyodor now.” He said it so casually that Kunikida could’ve fainted there and then. It felt physically painful. 

“Why?” Yosano asked softly, her voice was strained, because all she could see was Mori, even though she swore up and down that Dazai was not him. 

Fyodor was the one who answered, eyes glistening, while Dazai's lips curved into a knowing smile. But his smile didn't quite reach his eyes, which held a glimmer of something unrecognizable and unsettling. 

“Dazai chose to be with me, considering none of you appreciated him properly.” His tone turned patronising. “I should’ve expected the agency to overlook their most valuable agent.” 

Kunikida cursed, shaking from head to toe. “You BASTARD!” He screamed at Dazai, and Dazai had the nerve to look surprised. “After everything we’ve done for you! You betrayed us! You betrayed Yokohama!” Any emotion on Dazai’s face flickered out and died. His smile was fake, his eyes were dull, no more masks. 

On paper, the silence that followed was deafening. But in reality, real time, there was no silence. No one was talking, but silence? No. Unspoken words hung in the air, screams, whispers, laughter, sobbing, memories could be heard by each member, but nothing was spoken aloud. 

Dazai’s gaze flickered around the room, looking for something—someone—until it stopped at the barely open door to the presidents office. His gaze didn’t linger there for more than a second before he returned his gaze to the agency. 

Fyodor didn’t notice. That was all Dazai could’ve asked for. 

He stepped forward, his voice cold and measured. “Yes. I betrayed you. No. I wasn’t forced. I don’t regret it. I am not the person you believe me to be. So listen to me and listen closely.” He turned to Atsushi “Forget me.” Turned to Kunikida “Hate me.” Turned to Ranpo "Remember me. " With those words, Dazai's gaze locked onto each member of the agency. “But don’t claim you knew me.” 

This time, there was silence. It felt like death, mourning, ending. It felt.. final. 

Fyodor smirked behind Dazai, reaching out to grab his hand. “As much as I’m enjoying this.. I’m afraid I’ll have to draw this to a close.” His voice dropped to a murmur, “we’ve things to do..” 

Dazai nodded, turning to the agency one last time. 

“Goodbye.”

It was more than the Mafia ever got. 

He let himself be tugged away by the raven haired Russian, leaving the agency to their own devices. But right before he left the door, he shot them a look only Ranpo could understand. 

Ranpos heart flared with ridiculous, foolish hope. 

After the two masterminds left, the agency’s gaze turned to the door Dazai’s gaze had lingered on. Oda stepped out of it, staring at where Dazai was with eyes filled with a somber understanding. A heavy sigh escaped his lips as he realized the irrevocable shift that had occurred.

“Get ready.” Oda muttered in an exasperated voice. Kyouka looked at him curiously, “Why?” She questioned. 

Ranpo hopped off of his desk, eyes glinting. “We’re going to war.”

Chapter Text

“I am… so fucking gay.” Dazai panted, lying on Fyodor’s bed with his shirt unbuttoned, hair tousled and pants on the other side of the room.  

“I can tell.” Fyodor quipped from beside him, his hands playing with Dazai’s hair absentmindedly, Dazai raised an eyebrow, 

“Really? Not even a comment on how.. sinful I am?” Dazai purred, but a trace of a laugh was in his voice, and his eyes twinkled with something akin to amusement. 

“After last night? No. I’ve no need to point out the obvious.” Fyodor nuzzled his head into the side of Dazai’s neck, breathing him in. 

“You know I’ll betray you.” Dazai stated flatly, watching him closely.

“But of course. Betrayal is inevitable," Fyodor murmured, his breath warm against Dazai's skin. “It’s just a question of who’s quicker to the draw now isn’t it?” 

Dazai chuckled, “No need to sound so cocky, Fedya-kun. I could’ve beaten you in Mersualt if I really wanted to.” He taunts, revelling in the way Fyodor gripped him harder, his tone becoming more competitive. 

“With the gravity manipulator maybe, but without him, I’d have won.” Fyodor retorted confidently, 

“Oh yeah~? Why don’t you show me how?” Dazai purred, and Fyodor chuckled darkly, “I’m afraid I can’t oblige Osamu. I’ve work.” He pushed himself off of the bed, but not before brushing his lips off Dazai’s neck lightly. 

“God, such a tease..” Dazai complained to which Fyodor glared, “Don’t use the Lords name in vain. Besides, look who’s talking.” 

~~~~~~

Ango, Natsume, Oda, Mori, Fukuzawa and Ranpo were all gathered around a table in the Mafia headquarters. Mori and Ango were looking at Oda like they were traumatised—which, fair enough honestly— while the other three were making small talk with each other, ignoring the scene playing out in front of them. 

After a few minutes of this awkwardness, Mori spoke up, “So Dazai-kun is with Fyodor?” He asked conversationally. Fukuzawa nodded his confirmation, “Yes.. it seems so.” 

Ango looked between all of them, “What are we supposed to do about it? Dostoevsky was dangerous enough on his own.” 

“We do nothing.” Natsume replied evenly, and all eyes were suddenly on him, “What do you mean ‘do nothing?’” Mori asked “That’s exactly what I mean,” Natsume said calmly. “Any attempt to interfere could just make things worse. Besides,” he shared a glance with Ranpo, “Not all things are as they seem.” 

“I don’t believe I’m following, Sensei.” Fukuzawa admitted

“Of course you’re not, you’re all dumb.” Ranpo groaned, sucking on a lollipop he managed to sneak in. Ango pursed his lips and shot Ranpo a disapproving look. "Try to act like an adult, Ranpo," Ango said tersely. 

Ranpo just rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to his lollipop. Natsume sighed and stood. “I trust Dazai. And I trust that none of you will do something stupid.” With that, Natsume walked out of the room, leaving the others in a contemplative silence, pondering the situation at hand and their uncertain roles. 

————

Dazai Osamu was good at tricking people, 
but he was also good at protecting them. More often than not, these two things overlapped. 

Dazai Osamu was always busy coming up with schemes to protect his comrades, but he also knew when to step back and let them handle their own problems. 
More often than not, these two things overlapped. 

Dazai Osamu could play people who threatened Yokohama like a fiddle, but he could also become rather interested in them. More often than not, these two things overlapped. 

He found a morbid fascination in understanding the twisted minds of criminals, unraveling their motives with an unnervingly perceptive eye. But he always remained control, right now however? He had become rather interested in Fyodor, but he couldn’t play him. 

Their interactions kept him on his toes, challenging his usual approach to manipulation. And all the while, he could tell the slippery bastard was trying to work his way under his skin, into his mind. It had never affected Dazai before. 

Dazai Osamu was going to betray Fyodor Dostoevsky. 

Fyodor Dostoevsky was going to betray Dazai Osamu. 

It was a matter of time.

————

Fyodor Dostoevsky was used to getting what he wants, was used to taking what he wanted with little to no resistance; maybe that was why he was so fascinated by Dazai Osamu. Dazai was a challenge to him, but he desperately wanted him.

Their game of manipulation and attraction danced on the edge of danger, the thrill of the chase intoxicating. Even before Fyodor knew that Dazai was the book, something pulled him in. 

Fyodor had avoided death for the longest time, yet Dazai seemed to seek her out, but always failed. Death seemed to run from Dazai Osamu. Fascinating, right to the end. Both men danced around each other, each believing themselves to have the upper hand. 

Fyodor knew it was pointless, but he simply couldn’t stop himself. He wanted to feel Dazai, wanted to kiss him, to unravel the enigmatic web that Dazai spun. He wanted to be the one to make Dazai vulnerable, not some blonde teacher with glasses, not dead gingers, not weretigers. Him, Fyodor Dostoevsky, was going to be the only one that Dazai loved— 

Wait… where did that thought appear from, nope. Fyodor wasn’t doing that… Fyodor shook his head, trying to dispel the sudden surge of vulnerability. 

The very idea was stupid. Dazai was the book, his book. Dazai was not human, no matter how he acted. 

Fyodor was not in love with Dazai Osamu.