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Dazai wants to walk out, and wonders why he convinced himself of the importance of this meeting in the first place.
It is supposed to be the quarterly gathering of the executives and select other personnel that Mori feels like including at that particular time so he sees Hirotsu on the opposite side of the table as well, but half the executives aren't even present.
Ace and Verlaine do not carry the same responsibility as the rest of them, and for some reason, it irks Dazai. Not because he cares about being on the same page with any of them, but because he is as selfish as he is indifferent and not a single person in that room thought otherwise.
Dazai doesn't particularly care about his perception by others - Mori made an executive out of a man, not a saint.
Regardless, he twirls his tongue around the filter of the cigarette in his mouth, tries not to inhale just to see how long he can manage it. They aren't allowed to smoke in Mori's office per say, yet Dazai didn't particularly care about Mori's generosity of allowances, and rules were as different for him as it were for somebody like Verlaine. That doesn't stop the judgemental looks from Kouyou, or the disgust on Chuuya's face. But Chuuya was as much of a dog to Mori as he was to the Mafia, and Dazai had never cared when he had snarled at him.
In front of the crowd that they were sitting at, his mouth was muzzled and his actions restricted. Chuuya recognized just as well as Dazai, that the rules did apply to him.
They had fought recently, and Dazai bitters at the thought of it. It wasn't the kind of fight where Dazai was on Chuuya's case until Chuuya retired to his whims; but the kind where Dazai shoots to kill —and because he can't manage that with Chuuya— at least to severely maim, which is almost worse. Dazai thinks by this point, Chuuya should know. He should understand. Dazai is an empty vessel, as opposed to Chuuya's entirely-consuming singularity. Dazai is the lamb and the axe and the blood-mattered fur battered into one boy, to Chuuya's wolf and the altar and the Godhood that demands sacrifices Dazai is incapable of making.
Mori and Kouyou are discussing something; and it's always Mori and Kouyou discussing something that the others are simply alerted to, so Dazai doesn't see the point of inviting them over in the first place. Nevertheless, he is bored out of his mind, absentmindedly spins the chair he is sitting in, and makes a point of noticing the pointed ignorance directed towards himself from everybody else in the room.
He would laugh if it was even remotely funny, but it was so devouringly disgusting that he could spew his guts up on the spot in revolt. He wants to, but he doesn't want to justify the lack of food in his stomach.
Belatedly, he thinks that for an evidently 'important' meeting, the crowd gathered is quite small, even if there are people he doesn't recognize, or bother remembering the designations of. It is not his job, especially when he doesn't even care to get done what actually does constitute his job.
There is a click from behind him, the sound of the door opening, and Dazai turns to look only so he can revel at whoever is even more delayed than he was to the meeting.
Oh?
Dazai tilts his head at the newcomer, and wonders how Akutagawa managed to get invited in this room. More importantly, wonders where the boy had been since the past few days, because he hadn't seen him around since Dazai had landed back in Yokohama, and was too preoccupied to think of the boy, let alone querying for his whereabouts.
Akutagawa looks at Mori, does a quick glance-around of everybody else in the entire room, turns back to the boss and goes down on one knee in the compulsory greeting of respect to him, and Dazai knows more than most how meaningless it is, especially for Akutagawa.
Mori smiles, tight-lipped and condescending, "I figure you must be caught up with ‘important’ business, Akutagawa-kun. We appreciate you for showing up."
Dazai looks back and forth between the two of them, watches Akutagawa get up and dust his coat off while he simply responds with an, "I apologise. Please do continue."
Mori's eyes focus on Akutagawa for a moment too long, before he blinks, the light in his eyes shining again, when he turns back to the executives that are actually paying attention to him, and carries on.
Akutagawa is in his line of sight now instead of being adjacent to him, and Dazai watches him bow down at the waist in his direction. Nobody else reacts to it, and Dazai doesn't bother to acknowledge it either, but he notices and his eyes narrow when he finally takes a good look at Akutagawa.
Akutagawa looks out of it, and that is the best descriptor Dazai can think of at the moment.
His skin shows no sign of blood being present in his body, his eyes are drooping dangerously shut and it is a wonder he can even walk straight with how tired he looks. Dazai knows that look because he has gone plenty of sleepless nights because of his innate inability to fall asleep and when he does, then to stay asleep.
Dazai knows that look, and he knows that it looks worse than he himself can ever remember feeling because of sleep deprivation, and that is a feat to achieve. Akutagawa looks burdened, and Dazai cannot imagine how heavy he must feel. His eyelids, his limbs, his head - heavy as a stone sinking underwater, and his body as collapsible as the puppet that the Port Mafia treats him as.
Suddenly, Dazai's boredom has turned into anger and he is unsure who he wants to snap more at - Mori, Akutagawa or himself for not paying any particular attention to who has been holding his pet's keys to the cage, and disallowing him entry into it.
Before he can decide, Akutagawa sways dangerously as Dazai watches his eyes roll back into his head. He attempts to hold onto the nearest surface, which happens to be the railing at the back of somebody's chair, but Dazai watches as he misses his grip, and falls towards the ground instead.
Dazai watches out for the distinct thud of a body hitting carpeted marbles, but between one moment and next, Chuuya has his arms around Akutagawa's shoulders and gently (Dazai mentally scoffs at the word) lowers him down to the ground, making sure to not twist his limbs in an uncomfortable manner, and refusing to abort his grip on the boy's shoulder.
Chuuya looks up at Mori, who looks amused, "Did he just return from a mission?"
Mori puzzles his brows at Chuuya, as if a man fainting in his conference rooms is usually always on the agenda. "Successive missions, if all went well. I am still waiting for the reports to come in, Chuuya-kun."
Chuuya grunts, wanting to retort but knowing when to snap back and when to ignore Mori, "Not the best decision to invite him here right after, then." He spits out with as much irritation as he is allowed, specifically in front of Kouyou. Before Mori could respond, he continued, "I am taking him to the infirmary."
"There will be no need for that." Dazai watched as everybody in the room turned to him, and he had to consciously keep his expressions schooled.
"In case you can't see-" Chuuya starts, but gets interrupted right away.
"In case Chuuya cannot recognize, we are discussing somebody under my command," Dazai says casually, but only Chuuya knows the spitting rage behind the words, since that is exactly what their fight was about, "and it is simply exhaustion, not illness. There are no injections for that."
“He is a fragile boy, whether you like to admit it or not, and it’s not his ability that needs to be questioned for it, but yours.” Chuuya screams, and if Chuuya didn’t want to look through the lost relics of a seabed, he should never have dived in the water in the first place.
Dazai scoffs. Me?
Chuuya is quick to respond. Yes, you. You always want to have the last word, don’t you? You always want to take him down a peg just to show him that you can.
Dazai smiles, and it has no teeth and no tongue but only the rotten, grotesque flesh of his lips. But Chuuya was already walking away, and Dazai’s voice didn’t make a sound in the face of Chuuya’s declaration.
Well, you don’t have to show him anymore, Dazai. He knows. For all his obedience, you can give him a crown of thorns before you cut him down on his knees. And he will thank you for it as scarlet rolls down from his temple to his jaw.
The words were from Chuuya’s mouth but they ring true in Dazai’s head. And the memory of it sours the taste of cigarettes on his tongue.
He looks away from Chuuya.
He turns to Hirotsu, "Please contact squad commander Gin, and tell him to escort Akutagawa-kun to a safehouse for the time being."
What Dazai meant was their house, and what Hirtosu heard was Get him out of this place right. now.
Hirotsu nodded, and wordlessly, took Akutagawa's weight off of Chuuya's hands and escorted him out of the room, supporting his full body weight.
Chuuya clicks his tongue at Dazai's direction, but Dazai focuses on Mori, his eyes just barely open but narrow enough to silence the discussion that was going around the table.
Then, Dazai forces himself to sit up straight, "I take full responsibility for Akutagawa-kun's...weakness." He says, and he dares Mori to object, to make a mockery out of him, or worse, his boy.
Mori looks at him, and one side of his lips go up in a smirk, "There will be no need for that. Since he is your subordinate, Dazai-kun, as we just got reminded, I trust you to take him off active duty for as long as you require or see fit."
Dazai hummed, leaning back in his chair again. He wanted nothing more than to walk out of that room in the face of Mori's smugness, but he forced himself to relax, because he didn't need Mori fucking with Akutagawa, or worse, Gin, any more than he already had in his absence.
"Well, let's continue with what we are here for, then." Dazai spins his chair again, if only to see the door click shut behind him.
"Of course." Mori replies, his grin wide and his canines sharp, and Dazai can feel the nausea in his throat boil up all over again. This time, he is not sure he can swallow it down.
●○●○
In the sixteen hours that Akutagawa has been in bed, he must have woken up around ten times. Not for long, and not for any coherency to come back to him, but for long enough and frequently enough for it to render his attempt at sleep useless. He is grateful that he doesn't dream, or if he does, he never remembers it.
But still, Akutagawa is grateful for the rest he is getting, however unconventional. Because oh he was tired, and not the kind of tired where he hasn't slept in four days, but the kind of bone-deep deprivation of any energy that had a gut-churning queasiness radiating off of his body in heat waves.
Akutagawa belatedly registers the pain in his back and neck, admittedly from all the leaning he had done with a bad posture to support the weight of his own self after a few days of constant, constant activity. He was sent on mission after mission after mission after mission, with instructions to report to Mori and no Dazai to interfere between them. But he had grit his teeth and done as told, because as much as he knew Dazai wouldn't pay particular attention to what he was doing; at the very least he didn't want to welcome back his mentor with disappointed complaints from anybody else.
No. If he was going to feel knuckles to his bones regardless, he would make sure it was Dazai’s fingers forming the fist.
He still has his eyes shut, but he thinks. He remembers his perception of time distorting. Between walking, travelling from one place to another, talking to people to coordinate his plans for successful missions, he remembers time passing either extremely quickly or way too slowly. He has been in this position before, will be in it many more times, and at this point he has recognized when he gets to a point where he starts cycling in and out of sleep at random intervals simply for a few seconds. That point of exhaustion is way past what his body is able to tolerate, but the Mafia does not care what his body is able to tolerate, and Dazai has an affinity to breaking it down more than any enemy ever could.
He still can't keep his eyes open, but he knows his hearing is more reliable than his vision. He doesn't want to turn around to confirm what the sound is about, but he can hear rustling of plastic in the background, coming from the direction of the kitchen.
He opens his mouth, and immediately closes it again.
It takes so much energy to make a movement, and he does not want to.
"Learn to hide your hurt, Akutagawa-kun. Your face betrays your thoughts."
Akutagawa's body locked up for a moment, freezing in place, before his eyes shot open and he bolted to sit upright. Or at least attempted to, because he couldn’t manage to even move his torso to change positions.
There is a hand in his hair, and he prepares himself for the grip that it's about to hold in them, but it never comes. Instead, there is a push that shoves him back down in the bed he was laying on.
"Calm down, it's just me. And you are in your apartment." Dazai said, evaluating Akutagawa's physical condition.
Akutagawa opens his eyes, swallows hard enough for his throat to bob, "Dazai-san." he whispers, forming a note with his voice especially hard.
"Mmhm. I sent Gin out to get you some food." Dazai said as a way to make conversation, incredibly restless in his position, not knowing how to keep his tone casual when it comes to the boy in front of him.
Akutagawa keeps looking up at him, his eyes wide, and Dazai is every bit as menacing as he looks almost...protective?
"Thank you." He says simply, not having the courage to deny his hunger in front of Dazai.
Akutagawa wants to know how Dazai's trip was, he wants to know why it took him so long to call Akutagawa in. He doesn't have that privilege though, so he stays quiet, lets Dazai take the lead, as he is supposed to.
Dazai sighs, "Open your mouth", he says abruptly.
Akutagawa blinks; once, twice, and goes to question the command, but before he can part his lips, there are fingers wrapping around his jaw, covering his cheekbones, and digging into his skin, making him forcefully open his mouth, or risk getting the skin inside of it tear open.
Akutagawa gives in, lets his teeth part, renders his tongue flat and boneless, lets his mouth be just as mouldable as the rest of him.
Dazai had seemed so careful throughout the interaction, but now he seemed more like Dazai than a pretense. His jaw ticks, his nerves pull, his voice takes on a familiar edge when he digs his thumbs to Akutagawa's jaw just enough to make it rough, to make it bleed, to make it hurt.
His eyes meet Akutagawa's and Akutagawa wants to shrink back like a dog shaking his fur in fear.
Akutagawa believes he is a lot of things, but seldom is he afraid. Every moment spent with Dazai changes that belief. Every second of those moments teaches him that he will even take burning as warmth, if Dazai is the one holding the lighter.
"Do not forget the rules." Dazai says, deadpan, and Akutagawa feels the trickle of sweat forming over his skin, completely distinct from the one from fever.
Akutagawa doesn't know the right answer to that; doesn't know whether to nod his head or shake it in denial. He doesn't. He will never forget the rules because they are buried bone-deep in his body. Further than Rashomon, further than his sickness, further than the rabidity that turned him more anger than human, is Dazai. And even deeper lies Akutagawa's devotion to the only God that punishes him for the sins he makes him commit.
Dazai raises a brow, and Akutagawa knows what it means. Knows what not knowing that reaction would entail for him too.
He struggles, but manages a desperate gargle through the force of Dazai's fingers and the grip they had on him, "Not- not to make you repeat yourself."
Akutagawa waits for the jerk of his head to the side at Dazai's behest, waits for the fingers to dig so deep the red turns white and the white turns red, but none of it comes.
Dazai just...lets go.
"Tongue out." He says.
Akutagawa winces, this time more in disgust than in anything else. He didn't know if Dazai was simply trying to humiliate him or passing a judgement, but he did know that he was too tired for both.
He puts his tongue out, and averts his gaze.
"Hm." Dazai goes back to the platform that divides the living space from the kitchen, grabs a glass, fills it with water, and pushes it right under Akutagawa's nose when he is back in his place.
"Drink." Akutagawa usually has red sirens going off in his head every time he recognizes that Dazai has switched to one-word commands, but right now, he just feels out of place, much like Dazai's behaviour.
He frowns a little bit, tries to lift his hand up for the glass, but Dazai bats it away. The touch is like a shock to his system.
He swallows, and oh, his throat aches with the dryness of it.
Dazai sighs, and that makes Akutagawa attempt to get up as straight as possible, which was not very much at the moment. Dazai lets him try this time, but then he feels the man's hand at the back of his head, supporting his weight, helping him up?
"You are dehydrated. Quite severely so, in fact. Drink up." Dazai almost whines, but keeps his voice perfectly monotonous, then the look sharpens as he glides his eyes towards Akutagawa before narrowing them, "And then right back down."
Akutagawa has that momentary freeze frame he will always have in Dazai's presence as soon as his tone changes, mood flips, so he quickly nods, and takes the glass from Dazai, makes sure to avoid any physical contact, before gulping the water down.
It hurts, his throat is dry, and he doesn't want to drink, hates it, but downs it anyway, because that sounded an awful lot like a command, and pets that disobey orders are put down.
Dazai looks at him for a moment, and must find something in his face, because his face breaks out into a smile, only slight, but it's there, and Akutagawa knows, he knows from the heartfelt memorization of Dazai's every expression that it's not fake and it's not made up and it's for him, it's for him, it's for him. Akutagawa's heart both beats so quickly and breaks so fast at the same time.
"Good job." Dazai praises, and Akutagawa doesn't have the courage to look him in the eye, so he shifts his vision to the more familiar stance, looking down at Dazai's boots.
Akutagawa can feel the weight of Dazai's discomfort at being here like a tangible object, and if he had it his way he would take that object and shred it to tears so small it could never be mended again. Akutagawa has never known what to make of Dazai or his intentions, but he is especially not used to seeing Dazai tread a wire that he himself is not sure of how to balance on. It's a strange sight, and Akutagawa wants to close his eyes on it. Blame it on his sickness if he has to.
Akutagawa realises Dazai still has a hold on the back of his neck, but this time, it's not with the intention to hurt. The touch is oddly gentle, and Akutagawa wonders if Dazai even realises the sheer conflict of it. He wonders if it is even intentional.
Dazai notices Akutagawa's minimal shift to attention and withdraws his hand and Akutagawa wants to scream at the absence of the touch that Please, I am not malicious, and as long as the hand is yours, I won't bite. Please return.
The silence in the room stretches, and Akutagawa cannot take it anymore. He musters the courage to speak, "Why are you here, Dazai-san?"
Dazai's smile fades entirely, replaced by a more serious expression. He sighs, "I'm here because I need a tool to fight with, Akutagawa-kun. Why else do you think I sharpen you as a blade, and wield you as a weapon?"
Akutagawa feels foolish to be hurt by the words. It feels stupid to be sad when he knew what was coming, when he knows what is going to come every single one of those times. Akutagawa knows two things - Dazai is not a nice man, and that his attention is all that matters. He understands that the only time his attention is directed towards Akutagawa is when he is feeling mean, and he understands that Dazai needs to wear his cruelty like a glove to maintain any semblance of his humanity. For that, if he needs to be a good dog and lie down and take it, he doesn't possess the agency to object.
Regardless, he feels weak and irritated and his eyes meet Dazai's, and for the first time in the entire conversation, he doesn't look away.
"You should maintain your 'weapons' then Dazai-san," he spits out, "And not only reach for them when you see them on the verge of breaking apart."
Dazai stays silent for a moment too long, and Akutagawa regrets his words more than he regrets forgetting his place, but then, Dazai indulges him.
"So are you expecting sympathy then?" Dazai speaks, cocking his head to the side as if it truly was a bewildering concept.
Oh, if Akutagawa wasn't so tired, he would scream. He hates a lot of things about Dazai, but the most he hates is his casual cruelty that he disguises as efficiency, or worse, directions for betterment. Improvement. And he hates how easy it is for Dazai to turn the tables on him so that the fingers are pointed at Akutagawa and his inadequacy.
"I don't believe I have the right to have expectations of you.” And then, in the same tone he took with Mori, “I apologise."
Dazai's lips curve into a wry smile, and just for right now’s sake, he pushes down the hatred he feels at those words. "You're perceptive, Akutagawa-kun. I don't care in the way you might hope for. But efficiency is crucial, and a malfunctioning tool serves no purpose. So, consider my concern…a pragmatic necessity." He lies as easily as drawing a card, yet he hopes for this to be one gamble that he loses.
Akutagawa lets the fist that was tightening in his sheets go, lets blood circulate back to his knuckles. There is no use in arguing with Dazai, there is no use in talking back or fighting for what he yearns for in the moment. Akutagawa wants to react, wants to turn away, wants to scream, wants to go down on his knees and ask for an explanation that if all he will ever amount to is a tool, then why not replace him with another one. A sharper one; a shinier one. But he doesn't think he has the heart to hear the answer for it.
He looks at Dazai, and Dazai doesn't look back.
His body gives up, slides down the bed again until he is practically laying back down.
The silence is broken by a knock at the door, and before Akutagawa could catch up with the sound, Gin is slipping inside the door.
"Oh, Gin-chan! You are so fast!" Dazai says animatedly, and suddenly Akutagawa feels like puking, but he doesn't want to justify the lack of food in his stomach. "I am glad you are though."
He turns to Akutagawa with that same faux expression he maintains all the time with everybody else, and Akutagawa wants to scratch his skin sore.
"Akutagawa-kun, this is good food," Dazai nods seriously, pointing to the bags Gin is settling down onto the counter, "Have it while it is hot!"
Gin busies herself with plating the takeout she brought in, and Dazai looks back at him, his expression blank now, and his eyes dark.
"I will leave you be," he says, pocketing his hands in his pants, "You can join back work only when I call for you."
Akutagawa doesn't know what that means. He nods regardless.
He watches Dazai walk towards the door, watches as his eyes settle on the cabinet adjacent the exit, and watches him scan the table. He picks out a bottle of tablets from the surface and looks it over.
"I do not want you taking these." Dazai says. His voice monotonous. His eyes dead.
Akutagawa knows without looking exactly what bottle he was referring to. Dazai has never allowed him painkillers and there is not a hurt in his body that Akutagawa will risk angering Dazai for. He doesn't question it, he simply accepts the demand.
"But those are-" Gin starts, when Dazai's eyes immediately cut to her. He narrows them in warning.
Akutagawa feels panic rise in his throat, and before it could take a hold of him, he gives in.
"Of course. I understand, Dazai-San.” And then, much more quietly, much more hopelessly, “Gin doesn't know."
Dazai looks at him for a split second before moving his gaze back to Gin, where it lingers for longer than anybody in the room is comfortable with.
Finally, he nods; just once, and the sound of the door clicking shut coincides with the sound of two distinct voices, finally breathing again.