Chapter Text
This couldn’t be happening.
Dazai let out a full bodied laugh that shattered the soft silence of the night as it echoed across the broken tile of the shitty motel bathroom.
The laugh took on a more manic edge as he continued staring wide-eyed at the little plastic contraptions in front of him.
Dazai had left the mafia just under a week ago, and he had been feeling sick the whole time. At first, he thought nothing of it. He was stressed, he was grieving . He figured he would start feeling better once he started to settle, but it only got worse. Usually he wouldn’t do anything about it, but he had promised Oda to be better. So, he decided to get a pregnancy test, just to rule it out. He was sexually active, and technically hadn’t had a period in a while, even though they were usually irregular.
Except it was positive.
Dazai’s cackle sounded more like a sob at this point, and he was at a total loss of what to do.
He knew he could get rid of it. He was a mass murderer. An ex-mafioso. The Demon Prodigy. He could terminate the pregnancy and wash his hands of the whole affair. He was sure Odasaku wouldn't fault him for that.
But even the thought of it sent his gut plummeting, the feeling unrelated to the parasite this time.
He supposed that he was just clinging to anything Chuuya could give him. Dazai was… conflicted about leaving his stupid chibi behind, but he had to go, and he knew that if Chuuya asked, he would’ve stayed.
And just that thought alone scared the shit out of him.
So yes, maybe it was selfish, but Dazai wanted to keep this small piece of Chuuya for himself. Because if he was being honest? The chibi was the only person he had been with recently, not that he would've ever told Chuuya that. The older boy was funny when he was jealous.
Dazai could almost exactly pinpoint the day he figured the chibi-chibi had been conceived. Dazai had missed one ( one ) birth control pill about three weeks ago.
Dazai groaned as he realized that he’d have to update Ango about the current situation.
The phone rang exactly twice before the other man picked up.
“Hello? Special division assistant Ango Sakaguchi speaking.”
Dazai saw red for a flash. A deep rooted hatred, blossoming into sharp roses, prepared to throw harsh words like thorns. He took a breath, and let the red fall into a gray apathy. The violently red roses withered into a simmering root, vowing to blossom again next spring.
“Ah Ango! I’m in need of a favor.”
“Dazai? Why are you calling me?”
“I’m pregnant. I need you to hurry up with the safe house.”
Dazai took great pride in the way Ango audibly sputtered, spitting the liquid he was sipping.
“What?!”
Dazai inwardly smirked, before remembering what the other man had done.
“You heard me. Unless being a traitor makes you lose your hearing? Should I be worried about going deaf?”
The line went quiet for a moment, before Ango cleared his throat.
“You’re planning on keeping it, I take it?”
“Correct.”
The older man sighed, as if the weight of the world rested upon his shoulders.
“I’ve got a place sorted out. It’s a small cottage in Kawasaki. Secluded, but in a nice area.”
Dazai made a small noise of agreement.
Ango sighed yet again.
“With you having a child, I suggest living there for two to three years, before applying for a position at the agency as planned.”
Dazai bit his lip. Two plus years was a long time to do nothing. But, he supposes, he’ll have something to keep him busy at least.
He snaps back into the present as Ango continues.
“Because you’re laying low, you won’t be able to do as many prenatal appointments, but this is the best I can do.”
“ Got it .”
Dazai groaned as he hung up the phone.
The most unpleasant part was over. Now, time for the… uncertainties .
***
Dazai was wandering around through back alleys, waiting for Ango to text him his new address, when he heard a scream and gunshot in quick succession, followed by the sound of a limp body hitting the wet tarmac.
He should have turned around.
Dazai should’ve spun around, and walked to the train station in the opposite direction and continued waiting there.
But something about that scream drew him in. Honestly, it was probably his boredom talking, but Dazai didn’t really care.
The scene in front of him was a grisly one.
On the ground lay a tall dark-haired woman, who, even with the gaping bullet hole in her head, wore an uncomfortable grin stained with dark red lipstick. Above her was a girl who was presumably her daughter.
The girl’s clothes were tattered, and her hair was plastered to her forehead by blood that was sluggishly seeping from a large wound on her face. It was a deep gash that started at the middle of her forehead, and slashed right through her right eye.
The young girl’s face was blank, with her uninjured eye wide and empty. Looking down, Dazai noticed that the gun that was used to end the older woman’s life was still tightly gripped in the girl’s shaking fingers, and Dazai saw a bloody knife gripped with rigor in the dead woman’s fist.
Dazai decided to make himself known by taking a noisy step forward, so that he was clearly seen under the meager streetlamp.
The girl’s eyes snapped to him, but the gun never moved from the corpse, as if she was afraid the woman would jump back to life and attack her again.
The look on the girl’s face was so uncanny, it almost made Dazai laugh. It was like looking in a funhouse mirror.
“You look like you’re in need of some help there, kid.”
The second the words were out of his mouth, purple mist started rolling off of the girl in waves. Circling around her, like a Carrion bird following a wolf pack. It reached out towards Dazai, unfurling and clawing towards his head.
As soon as it made contact with his hair, there was a blue flash, and the mist quickly receded back to the girl. The tendrils curled behind her, almost cowering.
Her face twitched slightly, revealing her confusion.
‘An ability user then.’
Dazai looked at the girl, looked behind him towards the train station, and thought of his promise to Oda.
“Save the orphaned.”
The man’s voice echoed through his head, until he could no longer ignore the point.
“What’s your name?”
The girl hesitantly turned away from the corpse to face Dazai fully. She sized him up slightly, before spelling out a name in JSL. It was lucky Dazai had learned quite a bit of JSL for missions, and when Chuuya went nonverbal.
‘I’m K-A-S-U-M-I.’
She then did another sign he was unfamiliar with, so he assumed it was also her name.
‘Kasumi.’
‘I’m D-A-Z-A-I O-S-A-M-U. Dazai Osamu.’
He assumed that she wasn’t deaf since she responded to noise earlier, but he decided to sign back, just to show her that he could understand her.
‘How old are you?’
‘Eight.’
Dazai was almost surprised at the parallel. That was the exact age he met Mori. Maybe… no. He was going to make sure that Kasumi’s life turned out differently than it did for him.
She tilted her head to the side slightly, and it moved her hair enough for Dazai to see the severity of her injury. He winced. It was a deep gash, and she clearly needed medical attention.
‘Can you speak?’
Kasumi hesitantly nodded, before raising her shaking hands again.
‘I… can, but sometimes I can’t get the words out.’
Dazai nodded, and his lips quirked up sadly. He figured something like that was the case.
‘I knew someone who felt like that.’
Kasumi hummed softly, before she suddenly listed to the side. She quickly recovered, but she looked warily at where Dazai’s arms had shot out to catch her.
‘I’ll tell you what Kasumi, how’d you like to come with me? I’m moving out of Yokohama for a few years.’
The younger girl looked dumbfounded.
‘I killed my own mother.’
Dazai sighed, and decided to speak aloud, just to cement the words in the girl’s mind.
“We’re all running from our own ghosts, Kasumi. I’ve got more than most, so believe me, I understand how you’re feeling right now. But you don’t have to run from them alone. I may be a hypocrite, but I’m trying to do better for my child, and to fulfill a promise to my friend. They deserve that much at least.”
Kasumi’s eyes widened.
‘Child?’
Dazai nodded.
“I’m pregnant. About three weeks, give or take.”
He looked around quickly, and looked down at the time on his phone.
‘Shit.’ He was going to miss his train if he wasn’t careful.
“I’ve got to go soon. I’m moving to Kawasaki for a while, but I’ll be back in a few years. If you come with me, I’ll tell you all about the things that haunt me. If you don’t, I’ll give you some cash and you can be on your way, but you should definitely have someone check out that gash.”
The small noirette chewed on her lip for a second, before flinging herself at the older boy.
Once Dazai could comprehend that he wasn’t being attacked, he realized that the small girl was hugging him.
“Don’t go…”
The voice was small and rough with disuse, but the tears Dazai could tell the girl was holding back pulled at his heartstrings.
He pulled her scruffy hair into his chest, and bent down to pick her up.
“Shh-- Shh, it’s okay.”
Dazai cooed softly into Kasumi’s hair as he walked out of the alley.
“W-Wait! One second.”
Dazai looked on with a raised eyebrow as Kasumi scrambled out of his arms, the second she did so the purple mist reappeared around her in droves.
“Special Ability: Way Through the Woods.”
She whispered the words indicative of an ability’s activation, and the mist surged forward to circle around the corpse still laying on the tarmac. There was a soft purple flash, and then the body was rearranged to… Well, now it looked like a suicide. The gun was clutched in the woman’s head, and her bullet wound was more in the center of her forehead.
Kasumi’s ability… It was an enigma to be sure.
As if sensing his confusion, Kasumi raised her hands again, evidently done with talking for now.
‘My ability makes me…’ She hesitated slightly, seemingly deep in thought, ‘...go away. It makes it seem like I was never there at all. I can do it to people too sometimes, but they can re-remember me if they try hard enough.’
Dazai nodded.
“My ability cancels other abilities with just a touch. Which is why yours didn’t work on me.”
Kasumi yawned mid-nod, and raised her arms out, as if asking to be picked up again.
Dazai obliged, and started the trek to the station.
* * *
Dazai leaned against the cool train window and sighed. He had given Kasumi the scrubbed, eight-year-old appropriate version of his time with the Port Mafia, and she surprisingly didn’t even bat an eye.
Dazai’s train of thought was interrupted by a phone notification.
--/ / /--
Ango
Did you make it on the train?
Yup!! no naed to wrry abt mme ango!! (￢‿￢ )
Good.
The punktusation lol
anyways!! I foun d a random chils in th e ally, nad ive decided shes my child now
Sooooooooo she neads som papers plzzzz!! ! o(≧▽≦)o
She haz an abiliti to lol
…
Why am I even surprised?
idk!!!!
Fine.
--/ / /--
Dazai smiled as he petted the unkempt hair of his new daughter as she slept. This was the start of his new life, and surprisingly, he wasn’t too mad about it.
* * *
Dazai hated pregnancy. He was about eight months in, and it was hell . He was constantly throwing up, and bedridden. Which was especially inconvenient when you had to walk an eight-year-old to school every morning. The house they had settled in was quaint. Not small, but definitely not the posh flats many Mafiosi resided in. Definitely better than his old shipping container, though.
It was a two bed one bath cottage, about a fifteen minute walk from town.
Well, it turned out to be more like thirty minutes with how slow Dazai had to walk with his swollen abdomen.
Speaking of his eight-year-old, Dazai adored Kasumi. There was not a single day he regretted adopting her. (Because Yay! She was officially Dazai Kasumi!) She was quiet and smart, but took no shit. Yet she was still kind and considerate, and Dazai had no clue what he had done to deserve her.
He liked to think she was Oda's way of telling him he was doing the right thing.
The girl loved school. She loved learning, but would offer to stay home with no complaints on the days Dazai was too sick to leave bed. (Because there was no way in hell he would let an eight-year-old walk for fifteen minutes along a dirt path in the woods alone.)
And she was smart. Not just mentally, but emotionally too. And much too observant for her own good. She would often come home, ranting about how obvious her teachers were about their affair or other scandalous activities. The stream of A+ work seemed to be never-ending.
If Mori got his hands on Kasumi, he could probably shape another demon prodigy out of her. Dazai would sooner slit the man's throat and take over his throne, than let his greasy fingers touch a single ashy hair on her head.
* * *
It was Saturday, and Dazai was sprawled out on the couch, reading a book. Kasumi was sitting on the carpeted floor next to him, frowning faintly at her art 'homework'.
"What in the world is color theory?!" she screeched, falling onto her back with a huff of breath, blowing her bangs out of her eyes.
Art was the one subject Kasumi did not have perfect marks in. She could solve equations like no other, chat animatedly about scientific paradoxes, recite exact dates from history, and wax poetically about literature, yet she couldn't figure out how colors worked. (Dazai was becoming quite concerned she was —at least slightly— colorblind.) She always had trouble telling the difference between certain colors, and needless to say... It caused her significant frustration.
"This is so dumb. I should just tell Shikama-sensei I know about the affair. Try my hand at some blackmail. It would be much more worth my time than this nonsense!"
Dazai laughed under his breath. He remembers a conversation he had with Chuuya at an art gallery that was quite similar to this one.
"Chuuya used to say the same thing," He paused, “Well- not about the blackmailing a teacher bit. He never really appreciated physical art.”
He muttered it quietly, but Kasumi perked up at the name.
She had heard of Chuuya, in the rare moments Dazai was feeling particularly nostalgic. She knew that they had been partners, romantically and in work. She knew he was the other father to her soon-to-be sibling. (Sister, as Kasumi continued to insist.) The first time (of many) Dazai cried in front of Kasumi, was when she said that she thought Chuuya would understand. That someday, he might forgive him for leaving.
"He did..?"
Dazai could tell that Kasumi was very curious about Chuuya. About what, he wasn’t sure, but anytime he mentioned his name, he could practically see the gears turning in Kasumi’s head.
Nonetheless, her soft question drew Dazai out of his thoughts, and caused him to chuckle slightly.
"Yeah. He was never one for physical art, always drawn more to flowery words on a page."
Dazai winced loudly as he felt a strong kick to his ribs.
"Are you okay?"
Dazai smiled at the small girl looking up at him, purple-gray eyes wide with worry.
"Yeah, just some kicks. They sure have inherited their father's leg power!"
Dazai smiled, but winced again at a harsh jab. He almost cried out in pain as he felt a similar jab not a second later.
It was obvious that Kasumi did not believe the reassurances by the way her eyes narrowed judgmentally.
His face blanched as he felt something wet in his pants. His water just broke. He was only thirty weeks along. It was too early.
He winced again as he felt another contraction.
Kasumi was hovering over him, eyes filled with growing concern. Dazai wanted to reassure her that he was fine.... But he couldn't lie to her.
"Kasumi, get my phone. Now . I'm going into labor."
Her eyes widened, and she sucked in a sharp breath, before sprinting off. She came back a moment later, 119 already dialed into the cell.
He put the phone to his ear, and almost growled out his words.
“I’m going into labor.”