Chapter Text
Crickets chirped in the distance.
He subtly pulled the covers high to his chin.
Two low-ranking mafia members were in his room, he recognized them well.
They were recruited around the same time as him, he numbly remembered.
Brandon? Brandy? Gene? And the other one, he barely remembered.
Who cared what their names were.
Right now, they were tiptoeing around his private headquarters.
Their clothes rustled rather loudly- the fabric was the flaw. It wasn't suitable for stealth jobs.
In fact, he remembered pointing it out to them one eventless night, as they drank and laughed together at some bar.
He cared for his comrades, had grown a soft spot for them even.
Not that he would admit it aloud.
"… Are you sure this is a good idea?" One whispered, fearful.
There was a nasty huff of cocky amusement. "Heh, not even the Demon Prodigy's invincible in his sleep….!"
The two were now standing above his futon, oblivious to his awakened state.
I let my guard down around you.
I gave you my trust.
You were supposed to be my allies.
That night, he was the Demon Prodigy.
Steve and his friend set a brilliant example for how no one got away with betraying the infamous Port Mafia executive.
Ever since then though, Dazai never slept without his trusted gun under his pillow.
Ever since then, Dazai barely slept at all.
Brown eyes fluttered open moodily, grumbling at the streak of light fallen in them, then he forced himself up.
He slouched through his routine- washing up, changing into new bandages, throwing on his clothes while trying to brush off his dream.
Dazai considered himself an amazing detective. Sure, he wasn't extremely brilliant per se like Ranpo, and he specialized in strategies anyway, but he was very far from bad at it.
Right before heading out of his dorm, Dazai hesitated, expression contracted into a grimace before gave in with a frustrated sigh.
He quickly snatched his gun and dagger from his room, then left for the agency.
The nullifier found almost insulting how Atsushi thought he was subtle.
Lately, the tiger wore the body language of a traitor on his sleeve- guilty, restless and agitated. The tense aura around him screamed I have something to hide. He'd tried to brush it off the first few times, but it proved to be difficult as Atsushi did nothing to ease his thoughts.
That breezy morning, Dazai stepped out of the elevator alongside his tall partner to leave for a case, only to remember he'd left behind his coat and return back. The unexpected scene that greeted him in the office stopped his next step past the threshold.
Dazai merely blinked, assessing the sight of his white-haired subordinate going through Dazai's desk, biting the inside of his cheek and seemingly searching for something- looking quite determined. The younger was so engrossed in his secret mission, he didn't even notice Dazai standing baffledly by the door.
Approaching Atsushi right then and asking him what he was doing would be the best course of action. But coat forgotten, Dazai blankly studied him for a moment before turning on his heel.
Not because he was bothered by the invasion of his privacy or anything similar- for crying out loud, he was Dazai Osamu, the word privacy didn't belong in his dictionary when it came to others, he got it.
When the question- why was Atsushi going through his things?- crossed his mind, the most disturbing thing about it was that it came across as something unexpected.
Dazai made it rather clear- or not- that he liked the people around him to be predictable. So when those oblivious sunset eyes took in a soaking wet half-drowned Dazai for the first time by the riverbank, Dazai already knew of Atsushi's entire life's story- his background, strengths, weaknesses, fears and behavior patterns.
Maybe the last part was a lie. That boy was a strange one, and Dazai hadn't seen anyone with that kind and reassuring aura since…
Both Atsushi and Kunikida reminded Dazai of him, in a way. Maybe he subconsciously attracted specific attributes that resembled that man's, and maybe Dazai yearned for the lost waver of light he'd gotten a glimpse of all those years ago.
Maybe his friends kept him sane without realizing it. Maybe they were actually half of the reason Dazai kept living on and working to be better, not just his promise alone. Maybe, just maybe they inspired Dazai's guarded petrified heart to crack.
Anyway, he was getting off topic.
Overall, there hadn't been any instances where Atsushi managed to catch Dazai off-guard with his actions, until now. The tiger acted outside of the script Dazai had predicted for him. It was new territory and the former mafia executive couldn't help but pull that guard that came to him so naturally up higher.
This constant awareness, this fight or flight response that was burnt into his instincts through years of constant danger, of being taught he couldn't trust anyone or anything but himself to survive began crawling onto the surface of his skin, filling him with nausea.
Dazai felt it in his bones whenever he was in the same room as Atsushi- which was barely ever these days. The younger was purposefully avoiding him- not too blatantly, but it was there. Atsushi tried to avoid Dazai as much as possible because he knew his mentor could easily read him, Dazai's sick mind muttered and taunted.
And when he didn't, Dazai had him under such scrutinizing attention that bothered both party. Whenever Atsushi as much as leaned over Dazai to accept something from Kenji or even sat next to him, just working, Dazai itched to just snatch him up by the neck and against the wall and interrogate him about what was going on.
Still, a feeling of doubt ate at him. This line of questioning would only be appropriate if Dazai's assumptions were correct on Atsushi being a traitor or spy of some sort, which he had no reason of being, nor any solid proof of it existed.
Then what was going on? Did Atsushi have a problem with Dazai- hate him maybe?
The mere thought made the man tense.
Would that even make sense? Dazai referred to his memory, Atsushi's stammering, avoidant eyes, more avoidant behavior, jumping in his skin whenever the brunet called his name.
Shoulders slumping, drained of energy, Dazai pursed his lips and stared ahead at where Atsushi was currently having a hushed conversation with a giggling Naomi, a lopsided cattish smirk lighting up his expression.
Mischief was an intriguing look on him, Dazai couldn't help but be distracted with amusement, briefly wondering what the two were talking about. As if to feel an intent gaze on him, Atsushi clammed up before Dazai could read the conversation off his lips, much to the older's irritation.
Was he really that cautious over Dazai overhearing? What was it with this kid whispering around with the all the agency members except him these days? Why wasn't Dazai allowed to hear any of it?
At least Atsushi being a traitor was off the table, reluctantly thought Dazai. Reluctant, because the other options weren't any more pleasant.
Dazai watched casually as Atsushi slipped back into his seat, knee bouncing slightly. "Something bothering you?" Dazai lazily inquired.
"Ah, it's fine. I'll manage." Atsushi flashed him a faint smile. That was another thing- Atsushi didn't lie- he knew he had tells. That was why he settled for half-truths or nothing at all. Dazai would've been proud if he weren't on the receiving end of that trick. "Thank you for asking, Dazai-san."
He visibly sweated under Dazai's sweetly venomous glare. "You are very welcome, Atsushi-kun."
Atsushi blindly rejected taking on a a case that day, insisting he had other work to tend to. Oddly enough, Kunikida didn't even yell at him as he left, waving it off. Dazai didn't stick around to find out if the blond exploded at noticing his partner was gone as well.
Humming a tune under his breath, Dazai walked past the crowd, hands deep in his pockets as he aimlessly wandered the streets of Yokohama- well, he was supposed he was getting the case over with by noon, but it was fun to make Kunikida think his partner was sidetracked by a mere ball dangling in front of him.
Hooded eyes swept over the people, catching an odd sight of a white uneven cut. He was about to shrug and resume walking when he noticed the person his subordinate was talking to.
Feet turning into stone, Dazai blinked at the odd sight in front of, unsure of how to process it.
"I keep slipping." He read off Atsushi's distracted face and moving lips. "I almost gave myself away earlier today."
The man couldn't get what the other responded, since his back was to Dazai. He could only tell that Atsushi sighed at it. "I feel really bad about this, Chuuya-san."
Face void of expression, Dazai didn't notice his feet dragging him over to where his student and former partner were having a conversation until he realized he could hear the bunch of red hair talking. "Boy, you sure are dramatic." He snickered.
Atsushi looked oddly determined. "I really need something to go on, I barely know anything about him."
"All right, I'll give you one of Dazai's weaknesses." Chuuya nodded and held up an educating finger. "Listen up."
How… how dare he?
How dare he what, his mind rationally questioned. How dare who? Which one of them?
His thoughts were a racing jumbled mess, and his fingers twitched to either retreat and approach the matter with caution and strategy- or just pull out his gun and shoot someone.
He felt stupid about even thinking about the latter, cursing himself.
Atsushi setting up meetings with Nakahara Chuuya? And skipping work for it? There was next to zero chance that the tiger wasn't plotting anything- first, going to such drastic measures of secrecy for these meetings and also the more alarming one, Dazai could think of no other reason why Atsushi would be interested in knowing his weaknesses.
The lack of answers and swarm of pressing questions burning into his head left him with a familiar sickening taste on his tongue.
Senses heightened, Dazai clenched his fists to the unusually sharp echo of his own ragged breathing. Suddenly the strangers surrounding him on the sidewalk were a threatening presence, unnerving stares fixed on Dazai. Suddenly he had to leave, disgusting tension gathering under his skin.
Their whispers were suspicious and loud, hissingly so, but the hyperventilating one couldn't discern any of it, only taunting mentions of his own name.
What were they saying? How did they know him? Who were they?
Dazai needed to know every thing there was to know about them.
The air around him gradually slowed to a halt and ignoring the throb in his head, Dazai was almost slipping into a trance.
It shattered instantly when he felt himself reaching for his gun. He was a creature of terrible habit.
He gasped in a greedy inhale, slapping his own hand away from the wretched thing, his beloved savior. "Who are you going to shoot?" Dazai mumbled sharply under his breath. "Baka." In one of the most crowded streets of Yokohama no less.
He needed to slip away before he was detected. The air felt too heavy to slip through to his lungs, leaving him dizzy, weak.
Dazai didn't show weakness to the enemy.
Or anyone, to be fair.
Maybe he could get back to it after he'd cleared his head.
Floating aimlessly in the river sounded like an awfully relaxing idea right now.
"You're so funny, Chuuya-san." The melodious sound of Atsushi's laughter made his shoulders tense, reminding Dazai of the main issue.
Nope, Atsushi was a traitor, Chuuya was worse and Dazai was going to say it to their face, he decided, dodging the crowd and careful to cover any sign of his vulnerability.
If he felt paranoid around Atsushi before, now it was even worse. He couldn't help but put on an eerily sweet smile as he finally revealed himself. "Lovely morning, lovelier weather." Atsushi jumped and straightened his back with a choked noise. Chuuya's smirk melted into annoyance at the sight of him. Good. "Don't you agree, Atsushi-kun?"
Face white as a ghost, wide two-colored eyes darted around for an escape after a single glance at his mentor's light expression. He knew Dazai well, it appeared. "Uh…"
"What do you want, mackerel?" Chuuya raised an unimpressed eyebrow.
"No one's talking to you, slug." Dazai coolly ignored him.
Atsushi seemed to snap back into reality, blinking repeatedly as if trying to come up with a greeting. "Oh, Dazai-san! You're uh, here."
"You sound surprised." Dazai chuckled teasingly, but his tone was calculating, a sharpness to his stare that Atsushi swallowed to, looking away. "Where was I supposed to be, Atsushi-kun?"
The younger opened his mouth to claim ignorance, rocking on the front of his feet.
Dazai beat him to it."… According to the schedule you casually stole from my desk?" His voice was a blank monotone, never breaking his intense stare.
Atsushi blanched, jaw slackening slightly. Meanwhile unaffected by the tension, Chuuya burst into delighted cackles, clearly enjoying this. "Ah- ho-ho, stalker alert!"
The same panging irritation spiked, Dazai's glare flickered to the redhead once, pointing with his thumb. "And what are you doing with him anyway?"
"We were just-" Atsushi looked like a deer caught in headlights, tugging on something in Dazai's chest. He kept switching between Dazai's intense stare and Chuuya's amused smirk as if he'd been caught doing something he shouldn't be doing.
Was the Port Mafia possibly recruiting him? Or... was it a more personal association?
Dazai scrunched up his nose at his own dramatic thoughts. "You were just what?"
"Just hanging out." The white-haired boy winced at his own pathetic attempt at lying.
As if to poke further at his nerves, the mafia executive hummed and threw an arm around the young agent's neck. "You have a problem with that, mackerel?" He taunted with a jagged grin.
Feeling something boil in his gut, Dazai raised an eyebrow, hands sinking into his pockets. "I'm not sure Kunikida-kun would approve of you hanging out with this slug in broad daylight like this."
Atsushi seemed nervous. "Uh, well…"
Dazai jerked back as if he were hit. "He knows, doesn't he?" Incredulously he muttered. "That's why he didn't stop you earlier. He knew where you were going."
Atsushi didn't respond.
"Kunikida knew and I didn't." A small smile took over his face. "I'm sure you have your reasons."
"Listen, Dazai-san." The nervous one fidgeted with his hands. "It's not what you-"
"What's there to tell you, Dazai?" Chuuya dragged out his name purposefully, meeting Dazai's subtle unimpressed glare with a nonchalant façade as he rested his elbow on Atsushi's shoulder. "It's not like you own Atsushi-kun here." He innocently pulled the confused detective closer. Something inside Dazai longed to tear that arm off. "If he wants to have relationships outside work, he's not obligated to tell you anything."
"What are you talking about…?" Dazai muttered, eyes narrowing dangerously as he caught a grasp of what the executive was implying.
"Anyway, we're off." Chuuya waved him off, pulling Atsushi along. "Good luck on your next suicide attempt. I believe in you, mackerel."
"Atsushi-kun…?" The brunet eyed the back of his uneven cut.
But all the boy did was give him an awkward wave. "I um, see you later, Dazai-san. Good luck on the case- s-sorry I can't make it."
…
Okay. Dazai wasn't that far gone to assume both the Port Mafia and the Armed Detective Agency were working together against him, but that didn't mean nothing was off.
And so as much as he tried to carry on with his day, he was passively distracted with the thought of those two, as if his previous issues weren't enough.