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When Oda walked into Lupin, he was surprised to find Ango already seated and sipping a beverage he couldn’t quite identify.
“Odasaku-san,” Ango greeted with a smile and Oda offered a nod to him as well.
“I didn’t expect to see you here today,” Oda said as he took off his winter coat. The inside of the bar was warm in contrast to the cold outside.
Ango raised an eyebrow and Oda explained where he came to his conclusion.
“Dazai told me you were going off town the other day.”
“Oh, that,” Ango nodded, “I was supposed to depart today but it’s been canceled due to the snow.”
Oda guessed that this was as much as Ango would tell about his work and changed the topic.
“It usually doesn’t snow this much here. It was a trouble to get here, too.”
“That bit is true. I was starting to regret my decision to come here just before you came, actually. Though, a warm drink is a good choice.”
Oda raised his eyebrows and chose not to comment on the first part, “Yeah, that seems nice,” he said and got himself a nonalcoholic warm drink, too.
And a loud thud from the door caught both Ango and Oda’s attention.
Then Dazai made his way to Ango and Oda’s side, stumbling as he plopped on the stool next to Oda’s.
“Are you okay?” Oda didn’t miss Ango’s uncharacteristically worried voice.
Dazai missed it, though, judging by the fact that he didn’t make fun of Ango for it.
“Yeah, yeah. Missed a few stairs back there,” he explained and ordered his usual whiskey.
Dazai turned to Oda with a grin, “Hi, Odasaku!”
“Hi,” Oda said and frowned when he took notice of Dazai’s attire, “You’re not wearing anything else? It’s freezing outside.”
“Well, it’s not freezing here,” Dazai said as if that just explained everything. It was then that Oda also saw his flushed cheeks. The inside was probably too warm for him right now since he just made his way out of the cold weather outside wearing just his usual clothing of a black suit and a black coat. Not that he seemed too uncomfortable with it, though.
Dazai took a sip from his drink and glanced at Ango to pay him a second look as if to make sure he saw the right thing.
“Oh, Ango is here, too!”
“You just noticed–?”
“You just blend into the background too well, not my fault!” Dazai exclaimed, “Why are you looking at me like that?”
“You look like a snowman.”
Dazai looked at his shoulders, trying to make sense of the snow collected on his suit.
“If I were a snowman, I would be a sexy one,” he said and sneezed, “Right, Odasaku?”
“Don’t sneeze or cough all over the place,” Oda said and Dazai sneezed three times back to back before he could come up with an answer.
“It’s all Chuuya’s fault!” Dazai said suddenly, making Oda and Ango turn to him with shared surprised expressions, “That I look like a snowman right now,” he finished his sentence after his sneezing came to an end.
“Were you hanging out with the newest executive?” Ango asked, raising his brows just slightly at the revelation, “You two seem close, from what I noticed.”
Dazai was not a person one could simply read by the expressions alone. His face and body gestures were always theatrical and gave too many misleading hints, resulting in not being able to understand what he was thinking most of the time.
“Ugh, that is disgusting, Ango. Don't even indicate that we have a bond or something, not again!” Dazai suddenly got defensive about his affiliation with his work partner.
Yet, now it was kind of obvious he got flustered at Ango pressing him about why he was spending too much time with Nakahara Chuuya out of work.
Oda knew Dazai never answered any question he truly didn’t want to answer but despite suddenly getting defensive about his shared time with the executive, he wasn’t trying his best to avoid the questions.
“I don’t know why you’re so pushy about this, Ango! You are as boring as always,” Dazai’s blushed face held a child-like wonder as he asked about Oda’s insight about the topic, “Am I not right, Odasaku? Ango expects my life to be as dull as his so he tries to spice it up by adding unnecessary drama to it.”
To be fair, Oda thought that Dazai and unnecessary drama were like an inseparable couple. However, this was surely more than pointless drama. There was more to it, for sure.
“It’s fine to have crushes,” he said, watching both Dazai and Ango’s jaws dropping, “Though it should be harder to maintain at a workplace like this.”
Dazai was loudly denying it, now. Half the things he said didn’t make sense, anyway.
“Odasaku! You- you,” he coughed on his elbow a few times, “Did the hatrack fill your head with his weird ideas? I mean, surely something as ridiculous as this could not be your own insight, right?”
“Young love?” Ango’s curled lips gave it away that he enjoyed this idea despite seemingly rejecting it with his words, “I don’t know, Odasaku-san...”
“Of course, not!” Dazai was still going on, rambling what was mostly nonsense.
“Why not,” Oda insisted, “He’s at that age, isn’t he?” truth be told, he supposed Dazai was at that age to have crushes since Oda himself didn’t quite have that chance growing up. It was not like Dazai was living his best life but at least he had a person to care enough.
“That is certain.”
“I don’t have a crush on that slug!” Dazai insisted. He wasn't the type to yell and scream but judging from the annoyance painted all over his face, he didn't seem too far away from that.
“Like Oda’s previous words, it’s not a bad thing. Why are you so upset over this?” Ango questioned, taking a sip from his drink. He looked undeniably interested in Dazai’s personal life at that point.
Dazai would never give this much information about himself to anyone. But he was probably emotionally constipated since at least he had first joined the mafia; so if this is how he is letting it out, who were his friends to decline?
He wasn’t really acting like himself that night. In the middle of Dazai’s one-from-many jabbering sessions, Oda shared this observation with Ango. He also agreed that Dazai was being a bit... manic.
“Hey, you need to appreciate! You get to spend time with me and have the audacity to call me names!” Dazai chimed in while Ango counted a mental tally of the amount of alcohol Dazai had consumed in a short period.
“I don’t suppose he is drunk,” Ango decided, completely ignoring Dazai’s ‘I already told you, I’m not!’ and directing his words to Oda, “I’ve seen him drink twice amount of this and still nothing more than tipsy.”
Oda hummed at this and Dazai interjected once again.
“What’s the point of me hanging around here if no one even listens to me!” Dazai pouted and he actually looked sad. Ango looked like he felt bad for the boy.
“Sorry, Dazai,” Oda said, noting the unusual flush on his cheeks, “Please continue.”
Dazai swirled his glass with slow motions, looking deeply in thought. The ice in it made a few turns in it. Dazai sighed.
“I hate him,” this made Ango and Oda look at each other with surprised expressions, “But he hates me too and I can’t stand it. I can hate him but why is he hating on me?” Dazai exclaimed.
Oda was kind of lost but wasn’t going to let this go.
“What quality of him do you not appreciate?” he asked.
“I hate everything about him,” he coughed and Oda frowned since it sounded painful for his throat, “I threw snowballs at him and he attacked me back. So rude! I almost died back there!”
“From snowballs?”
“Yes, that slug is a violent dog. He basically shoved me into the snow,” he complained.
Dazai hesitated to continue. His pinkish cheeks didn’t help his appearance, either.
“We... built a snowman today- don’t laugh!”
“Sorry! Sorry... continue telling us why you hate him, please,” Ango said after failing to hide his laugh.
Dazai was silent for a second until he cleared his throat.
“I hate his stupid bike he carries me around. I hate his height. He is so short, so stupid! I... I do hate him, okay? I hate his- his-“ Dazai looked troubled, lacking more insults towards Chuuya, “The way he acts like a loyal dog– so annoying, by the way. The way he is so much more talented and so... I don’t know! There is something about him that’s so... annoying.”
Nor Odasaku or Ango said anything.
Dazai, probably noticing his outburst, averted his eyes and busied himself with his drink.
Ango hardly suppressed a laugh.
“Dazai, are you afraid he doesn’t like you back?” Odasaku asked.
Dazai looked offended, “Huh? No! I couldn’t care less about that slug! It’s stupid, really. Let’s drop this. Odasaku; tell us about your day, since Ango won’t!” he offered Ango a sulking face of which Ango didn’t acknowledge.
Odasaku hesitated but he didn’t want to press Dazai so he complied.
“Well, I didn’t do much. I was with the kids mostly,” Oda started to exchange short stories with Dazai and –surprisingly– Ango on how their days went. Dazai was too loud for a while and seemed to be tired of that after some point, deciding to just rest his head on his hands while Oda and Ango involved themselves in a different conversation.
Somewhere in the middle of talking, Oda realized Dazai had gotten way too quiet.
A short glance at the boy told him why.
“Is he sleeping or passed out?” Ango asked, looking over Oda’s shoulder.
Dazai was hunched over at his stool. He didn’t even drink half the drink he claimed to like so much. His face was hidden somewhere in his crossed arms but Oda was close enough to Dazai to see his eyes were shut. He was clearly sleeping- but under which circumstances, Oda wasn’t sure.
“He didn’t drink much. I’d say he’s sleeping,” Oda said but he got suspicious after noticing Dazai’s face scrunched up in discomfort.
Oda pressed the back of his hand on Dazai’s forehead. Dazai not waking up from the touch was also concerning enough.
“He is feverish,” Oda announced.
Ango looked somehow troubled at the revelation, “I’m not surprised. He keeps wandering around with thin clothes,” he sighed, “It snowed a lot, today. I doubt he put on something more than this,” he gestured vaguely on Dazai’s sleeping form.
Oda guessed Ango was right. Dazai was known to not dress according to the weather and for it to be combined with his weak insurance system had been pretty unlucky on his side.
As if to confirm Oda’s inner monologue, a deep cough rattled Dazai’s body which still wasn’t powerful enough to wake Dazai from his uncomfortable slumber.
Dazai looked like he had fun while recalling the moments he was with Chuuya when it was snowing that morning, but he did not look comfortable at that moment with sweat drops clinging to his pale skin.
Oda tried to wake Dazai up by calling his name softly a few times.
It wasn’t enough, though, so Oda decided to take pity on the boy and let him sleep through it while he could figure out something.
Ango was leaned towards Dazai, too. The slight knitting on his brows was growing to be more noticeable the more he took his time observing Dazai.
When Ango finally got up, he turned to Oda, “He looks really out of it. What’s your suggestion?”
Oda took another look at the boy currently passed out on a bar stool and after feeling his burning forehead once again, he didn’t need to think much of it.
“He can use some help, it seems,” Oda said and turned to Ango, “Where does he stay?”
Ango frowned, “I’m not sure, really,” he brought a hand on his chin as if it would help him think, “I’m not risking meeting the Boss, though. Find another place to take him.”
Oda agreed internally. Wherever Dazai stayed was probably under the Boss’ watch. He also didn’t think leaving Dazai alone was the best course of action. Ango probably knew where that executive Nakahara Chuuya was staying, but wasn’t he also a kid? It didn’t seem like the best idea to invest in.
That left Oda with one safe option.
“Then can you drive us to my place?”
Ango raised an eyebrow but didn’t express his thoughts loudly.
“What’s with that look?”
“Nothing. Just... it will be hard to handle him, you know that. He might throw a fuss.”
Oda looked at Ango in surprise, “Ango... he is just a kid. Do you want to leave him like this?”
“No, that’s not what I meant nor it’s appropriate,” Ango cleared out, “I suppose I can drive, I didn’t have alcohol tonight. Do you need help carrying him?”
Oda took one glance at Dazai who had his head in his arms, wincing as he did not wake up or move from his slouched state that looked positively uncomfortable.
“I can manage.”
As expected, Dazai didn’t weigh much and Oda had no problems lifting him to his back and positioning his head to rest on Oda’s shoulder.
Ango attentively looked at the stance of them and didn’t say much, again.
“The car isn’t too far but we will have to walk a little,” he announced.
“It can’t be helped,” Oda said and Dazai coughed again in his unconscious state.
Ango grimaced, “He really needs to dress better. Whatever he caught seems bad.”
Oda could already see how this situation would end, “He’ll probably complain for a while and be back at it again.”
“That seems to be an accurate guess but... Still, he kind of had this one coming.”
Oda understood what Ango meant. This did not mean Dazai deserved falling ill but it wasn’t like he was trying to avoid it anyhow.
Oda sighed and let Ango help him lower Dazai to the backseat.
“That is bad. So bad,” Ango was saying similar things with the same meaning for the last fifteen minutes, pacing the floor in Oda’s living room like he was trying to make a hole there with his footsteps.
“Sorry, I dragged you here and you can’t leave now.”
Ango took off his glasses and rubbed them clean with the hem of his shirt, “It can’t be helped. I just wish I had been carrying my laptop,” he sighed something tiring, “I’m behind on a workload, already.”
When Ango drove them to Oda’s place with great effort, his car stopped working properly after making a hard way to Oda’s apartment. It was most likely due to the immense cold since –according to Ango– his car had no problem just now. All of the car services he could use at that point weren’t available until the next day, too –again, due to heavy snow.
“You’re not the only one behind of work, though. I assume most people are in the same shoes as you, now,” Oda tried to reassure.
“...Right,” Ango said. He clearly didn’t have the same opinion but was too tired to argue. His attention sparked on the main subject of why he was in Oda’s living room that night, “So, what are you planning to do with him?”
Oda was thinking about the same thing, too. Dazai had managed to get himself inside the living room when they were out of the car and promptly collapsed on the couch. He hadn't moved at all, since– saving the light shudders and tremors his body had periodically, because of the fever.
“I’m not really sure,” Oda confessed and brushed Dazai’s bangs out of his face. His skin burnt at the touch, “I’ll try to relieve his temperature. Do you think the Boss should be informed?”
Ango seemed to think about it for a second, “No... I don’t think that will be necessary. He is a bit unpredictable when it comes to Dazai-kun. It's better to keep it a secret, for now.”
Oda couldn’t say the word unpredictable didn’t make him at least a little bit worried but the main reason for his worries was just before him.
“Please make yourself comfortable,” he said to Ango before disappearing from the room and preparing a cold compress for Dazai.
When he returned to the living room, he pulled out a chair next to Dazai– whose coat and jacket were taken off, and his tie was undone by Ango who seated himself on another one of Oda’s couches.
No one spoke for a few minutes and Oda glanced at Ango, just in time to see him repressing a yawn.
“You can get some shut-eye in my bed if you want,” Oda offered.
Ango refused, politely, “Ah, thanks for the proffer but I really shouldn’t.”
Oda eyed Dazai and got up after deciding he wouldn’t wake up for at least five more minutes, “I doubt I will sleep tonight. At least you can get some rest.”
Ango tried to reject once more but failed to make his words sound believable as he yawned again, “I– It’s not needed...”
“I’ll get some clean sheets,” Oda said and left the unconscious Dazai with Ango.
Oda prepared his bedroom –since he didn’t own a guest room– like a guest room. Clean sheets, a new blanket, and the clutter on the nightstand gone. Also, a pair of comfortable clothes he could change into.
Oda returned to the living room to find Ango taking his place on the Dazai-waiting chair.
“It’s ready,” Oda announced to Ango, bringing him out of his deep thoughts.
“Thank you, really,” Ango said but didn’t make any moves to get up.
Ango spoke a few seconds later, “He coughs really bad. This can turn out to be more than just a cold,” he said grimly.
“He doesn’t have the strongest body, but I think he will be up in no time.”
Ango raised an eyebrow, “Why do you think so? He is gifted with an intelligent mind, but not a strong immune system. He stays out in the cold for a few minutes and catches a cold– a bad one, at that.”
Oda just shrugged, “Just a hunch. He'll recover quickly,” he pulled the blanket higher up to Dazai’s chin.
Ango didn’t say anything or even move for a few seconds and then sighed as he got up from the chair.
“I suppose you’re right,” he said and headed to the bedroom after thanking Oda once more.
Oda was once left alone with the so-called scary Port Mafia Executive Dazai Osamu. Fragile was never a word associated with Dazai but Oda wasn’t far away from that thought. He certainly looked small, not taking much space on the couch that was reserved for him.
He was just a child at the end.
(one with too thin wrists and already prone to be an alcoholic at a young age)
It would be hypocritical of Oda to judge Dazai. It wasn’t like he had any idea what a normal child or a teenager acted like but he was sure it wasn’t whatever Dazai was doing.
From across the room where Dazai’s coat was draped onto another chair, a loud phone ringing filled the room. Oda got a bit curious and checked who must be calling Dazai at this hour.
He wasn’t quite shocked to see a contact saved as “Slug”
Oda winced when Dazai’s sleeping form rattled with wet coughs. He quickly put the phone on silent mode –because Nakahara Chuuya called him a few more times after his texts of ‘are you finally dead’ and ‘did you manage to take your ass home’ went unanswered– and rushed near Dazai.
He put a hand on his shoulders and moved it to his head. Oda hoped it would relieve some tension from him as he stroked his hair– He wasn’t the affectionate type but he was aware Dazai didn’t mind this particular touch with him.
Dazai’s scowled face didn’t change but Oda knew there wasn’t much he could do to rescue him. Not specifically from his illness but from something more general. He doubted whatever he could afford to give would be enough.
Despite the raging fever, Dazai woke up several hours later into the night just enough to be able to hold a conversation.
It took a couple minutes to convince Dazai that Oda was really Oda and not another person whom he looked to be afraid of. Oda couldn’t make much out of it.
“I... I hate Chuuya,” Dazai said after an exceptionally bad cough that sounded like it itched and hurt every part of his throat to his lungs, “I will never throw snowballs at him, again.”
“Maybe you should dress better,” Oda offered as he lent Dazai a couple of pills for fever.
“I’m not taking those,” Dazai said with a very definable confidence in his voice.
“Why not?”
“It’s just.”
A minute of silence.
“It’s just what?”
“You know, it’s just.”
Dazai didn’t make much sense on normal days and now he was making barely any sense. Oda didn’t see the point of forcing medicine on him so he decided he could try his luck again. Maybe he would take the medicine from Ango? Oda could certainly ask Ango to try to give Dazai medicine.
“Do you think he likes me back?” Dazai asked in a small voice suddenly. He looked like a kid instead of a cold-blooded mafia executive for the second time in the same night. Oda felt something growing in his chest. He didn’t need clarification to understand whom he was talking about.
“You won’t know until you ask.”
“I won’t do that! He will make fun of me,” his shoulders trembled in the force of a cough.
“Careful,” Oda said. Dazai grimaced.
Oda replaced the cold rag on Dazai’s forehead, watching his features relax a bit.
“He called you a few times,” Oda said, watching Dazai’s eyes flicker something too pure for his position in the mafia, “I suggest you call him back. He might be worried.”
Dazai scoffed, “I bet he’s just checking to see if he can have a party in honor of me missing.”
“I wouldn’t say that judging by the texts he sent.”
Dazai tried –and failed miserably– to get up from the couch in haste, probably in an attempt to check his phone for Chuuya’s messages.
Oda’s one hand hovered in the air just in case Dazai did manage to make a run but when Dazai simply couldn’t move on his own, Oda used that hand to pull the covers up to his chin.
Dazai lay there like he did for the past few hours. His eyes were barely open, he looked like he was hanging on to the last pieces of consciousness. He was frowning and his breathing pattern was rather shallow. Oda decided that Dazai must’ve truly been having a hard time since he didn’t even pretend to keep his composure. Oda didn’t need to feel his skin to see he was still feverish but he checked it anyway.
Oda pressed his hand to Dazai’s cheeks –not his forehead since it was occupied by a cold compress– and now he was also frowning with the hot temperature contacting his hand. Oda moved his hand to Dazai’s neck to get a better understanding and got a little anxious that he was indeed warmer than when Oda and Ango first brought him to his flat.
While Oda was silently thinking about what he should do to help Dazai, a loud ringing noise pulled him away from his thoughts. Dazai also looked a bit more awake at the sudden volume hitting his ears. The temperature, the lightning, and the noise were a bit too much to handle– he couldn’t help but let a groan out of his dried lips when Oda removed his cool and soothing hand from his skin to grab the phone on the small coffee table near.
Dazai had mistaken the ringtone to be his own and muttered who he thought –no, wanted– was calling him.
“Chuuya..?”
Oda heard his weak tone.
“It’s not him, Dazai,” he explained, letting his phone ring just a few more seconds, “My phone is ringing.”
Oda didn’t know if his words reached Dazai and decided he could just return the call later when he saw the caller ID. An unknown number, a high chance to be potential fraud. He decided to ignore it, for now.
“Odasaku.”
Oda turned to look at Dazai. He felt his heart breaking at the sight of his friend.
“Yes, Dazai?”
Dazai blankly stared at Oda for a few seconds before he could manage to get the words out of his throat.
“I–” whatever he was trying to say got interrupted by a coughing fit. Oda winced as he watched Dazai’s whole body tremble by the force of coughing.
When he was done, Oda lent him a glass of water. He imagined Dazai’s throat must hurt badly and Dazai downing the water in relief only proved his point.
“What was it you were saying?” Oda asked.
“I was going to say...” Dazai stopped abruptly and he decided whatever he was going to say wasn’t important, apparently, “Actually, never– never mind.”
“You can tell me.”
Dazai seemed to think over it for a few seconds.
“It’s just... do you have another blanket?”
“I suppose I do. Why? What's wrong with this one?”
Dazai coughed again before answering with a raspy voice, “It’s... cold.”
Oda told Dazai he was going to find another blanket for him and left the room. He came across Ango making his way to the living room. His hair was messy, his shirt was buttoned hastily. He looked like he slept for a while.
“Where to, Odasaku-san?”
“Dazai needs another blanket,” he replied, making Ango raise an eyebrow in surprise.
“He’s awake? How is he?”
“His fever has gone up. If you can manage; get him to take some medicine, will you? He refuses it.”
Ango nodded, “I’ll see what I can do.”
Then they both went to their respective destinations, though Oda saw Ango turning to the kitchen from the corner of his eye but didn’t think much of it. He found a thicker blanket rather easily and left the room to return to Dazai.
In the hall, was a crouched-down figure that resembled too much of Dazai. Oda hurried to his assistance.
It was, indeed, Dazai. His eyes were closed, he was taking –or trying to take– deep breaths. Oda wasn’t sure how did he even manage to get this far with a fever that high, let alone moving from the couch where he should have been instead of being collapsed in the hallway.
“What’s going on?”
Oda turned around to face Ango, who held a mug in his hand that probably contained coffee. Oda knew that the man had lot of work to catch up on even after.
“I don’t know,” Oda replied honestly and lent Ango the rather heavy blanket, “Can you take this to the living room? I’ll bring Dazai.”
Ango complied without fuss and Oda turned to Dazai once again.
“Dazai? Are you awake?”
Dazai nodded as much as he could manage.
“Good,” Oda murmured and tried to lift Dazai while grasping him from under his shoulders, “Come on, I’ll help you to the couch.”
Dazai made an uncooperative sound at this but didn’t have the energy to fight back. He let Oda guide him back to the living room.
“You shouldn’t wander around the house in this state,” Oda said once he managed to get Dazai back to lying down.
Dazai didn’t say anything.
Ango draped the woolen blanket on top of Dazai, “Now that you’ve seen how sick you are, will you take your medicine?”
“...No.”
“That was not one of the options. You either take it or take it.”
Dazai frowned, “That’s stupid.”
A minute of silence passed between them as Ango and Dazai went into an unofficial staring contest.
Dazai narrowed his eyes at the end, “Fine! Give it to me!”
Oda huffed a laugh at Dazai’s usual antics and gave him the pills he was trying to make him take when he first woke up.
“Here,” he also brought a glass of water but Dazai had to be helped to drink the water, too.
After that, Dazai was settled into sleep again. Oda supposed sleeping could help. He also knew Dazai had a lot of sleep to catch up on, too.
He met with a mug that Ango slipped in his hand at some point.
“I used your kitchen to have my morning coffee,” Ango explained when he was under the gaze of Oda’s questioning looks, “It was only proper to prepare one for you, too.”
“Will you be leaving?” Oda assumed since Ango already got up from the other couch. He was already dressed, too.
"Yes. I will try again with my car and if it doesn’t work out; I can reach out to someone to fix my car, now.”
Oda nodded and escorted Ango out of the door.
“Thank you, again,” Ango said before leaving, “Let me buy you a drink once we meet again.”
“No need. You were the one who helped me bring Dazai here.”
“Well... anyway. I should be leaving,” he said and turned his back, “I wish both of you well.”
Oda appreciated it more than what passed as normal.
Dazai woke up a couple of times during the day, refused to eat anything, took a call from Chuuya –which was more teasing than actual talk– and went back to sleep. He became more lucid as time passed, the medicine showing its effect as it should.
And then, Oda dozed off without realizing it.
He wasn’t surprised to see Dazai was gone when he woke up. It was inevitable, he supposed. He hoped Dazai felt well enough to make a run without giving too much trouble to his body.
Oda made his way to the bedroom to take a proper rest.
The next time Oda saw Dazai was a week later. He was already halfway through his drink when Oda made his way to the bar. He was alone, slouched on the bar stool and fiddling with his phone. He hadn’t noticed Oda approaching, yet which was odd since Dazai had high senses that made him impossible to reach from behind. Seeing him all by himself and not performing to anyone wasn’t a usual occurrence.
“Odasaku!”
Oda didn’t know why Dazai’s eyes were always sparkling with joy every time he saw Oda. He also couldn’t quite put his finger on how much of it was genuine and how much of his happy-go-lucky look was a façade.
“Hi, Dazai,” Oda sat next to him, “Are you well?”
Dazai enthusiastically replied, “Never been better!” he exclaimed, “Hey, wanna hear about what Chuuya did today?”
As Dazai told Oda about various things, jumping from topic to topic, Oda didn’t think too much of his cheerful expression. Seeing him unmasked from everything that usually showed on his face was a bit of a shock, truly but he seemed decently healthy, that would be enough, for now.
Oda couldn’t fill the chronically empty place, the void that consumed his friend from deep but if he could make him forget about it a little, that counted as success to him.
“Odasaku? You aren’t listening!” Dazai was pouting.
Oda didn’t have the heart to remind Dazai of his age and didn’t try to correct his behavior.
He was enjoying his time with a valued friend, after all.
Maybe it was the same for Dazai, too. Dazai was hard to understand and human psychology had never been one of Oda’s strengths but Oda could say he didn’t suspect the sincerity of his words and actions from the time they spent together. They were friends, weren’t they?
“I’m listening, Dazai. You were telling me about the pick-up line you used on women the most.”
Dazai grinned.
“Ah, sorry! My bad,” and he continued from where he left off.
Oda might have been helping Dazai to distract himself from his demons but it was mutual, really. Oda would be lying if he said hanging out with Dazai and Ango at a usual bar didn’t bring him any sense of comfort.
He smiled when he noticed the familiar calico cat, as well.