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Chapter Text

Fyodor’s hands have always been cold. This was true when he was alive, when Nikolai grabbed hold of him and the only thing separating skin from skin was a pair of stolen gloves, thin enough to allow the iciness of Fyodor to seep through into Nikolai. And it is true now when all that remains of Fyodor is a severed arm, when Nikolai cradles the dismembered limb to his face and each finger is a lifeless icicle caressing his cheek.

This is what he wanted.

Congratulations, Dazai told him. Fyodor is dead. You did it. You killed the unkillable, you transformed yourself into Judas by choice. You brought the thirty pieces of silver to the men who wanted him dead, placed the proper tools in Dazai’s hands, and turned your back while he was crucified. You did it.

You proved your own free will.

You chose this.

Behind him, Dazai and Chuuya murmur to one another—about their friends back in Japan, about administering the antidote, about Dazai’s injuries, about Sigma. They talk about Sigma like Dazai is the only one who has ever cared about them. Like Nikolai didn’t save them from death, like Nikolai isn’t the only reason they were here and Dazai was able to use them in this game. Thirty pieces of silver. Thirty coin bombs never detonated.

Jesus was executed with two other men, one on either side, men who actually deserved the punishment they faced. To hang on a cross and slowly bleed out, nails through their hands, nails through their feet, their suffering on display for all to see.

Fukuchi is dead in Yokohama, if Dazai’s intel is to be believed. Sigma will never wake, if Fyodor’s words were true.

Which one of them begged for forgiveness in their final moments, and which died still rotting in their sins? Does it matter? They are gone and Nikolai is still breathing and this was his choice. This was his choice. This was his choice.

But Judas took his own life after betraying the one he loved.

Fyodor’s hand is cold. If he raises in three days’ time, Nikolai will be long gone. The Savior has the power to raise the dead, but why waste your time on someone who sold you out for thirty stray coins? Nikolai knows the stories; he grew up having them carved into his flesh each Sunday. He knows who lives, who is resurrected, who is redeemed. And he knows who turns traitor, then lets his grief and shame consume him, and is never mentioned again.

But Judas didn’t have a choice. Judas was merely a pawn in God’s perfect plan. Nikolai chose this.

Nikolai wanted to be free, so he took Fyodor’s life in his own hands and he made the choice and he has proven that no cage can hold him inside. No imitation of God can control his whims. He is free by no hand besides his own, but there is something inescapable forming in his chest that calls itself grief, and Nikolai is beginning to fear escaping one cage only leads you into another.

He always believed it was his choice, to bring about Fyodor’s death. He believed in his own free will, and he saw his plan through to its end. He was right—there is such thing as the existence of choice, because Fyodor is dead and his arm is clutched in Nikolai’s hands and no one sane would choose to kill the only person who ever understood them.

The choice was always Nikolai’s.

But now that the irreversible has come to pass, he fears he chose wrong.

Chapter Text

“You shouldn’t be so reckless,” Akiko chides, taking Ranpo’s hand in hers. Ranpo winces at the contact, but they know she won’t find any open wounds. The knife didn’t strike them—they knew it was coming and moved to evade it. But in the process, they’d crashed into Akiko and sent them both crashing to the ground.

At least the cops were competent enough to prevent the criminal from fleeing.

Ranpo huffs. “I’m fine,” they insist, though they allow Akiko to continue inspecting them, searching for injuries. There hasn’t yet been time for a bruise to form—though surely in an hour, Ranpo’s wrist will be black and blue—so the only thing visible right now is the matching thin, white, scars on both the palm and the back of their hand. Remnants from the battle against Fukuchi.

A physical reminder of where mindless trust gets you.

Akiko brushes her thumb over the scar on Ranpo’s palm, then curls their hand into a fist. “Can you bend your wrist for me?”

Ranpo obeys, bending it forward, then backward, then rolling it for good measure. It hurts, but the pain isn’t unbearable. Not when they still wake in the night, gasping for breath, their hand burning where Amenogozen pierced straight through it.

Akiko breathes out a sigh of relief, though her touch lingers. Ranpo wonders if their scar brings up unwanted reminders in her mind, too. Reminders that Fukuzawa is not infallible, that humanity is rotten at its core, that trust and love can be broken by anyone, if they find the right motivation. Or if they lose enough of themself.

“Please be careful,” she whispers, and then lets their hand slip from her grasp. Cold air seeps in where the warmth of her skin was only moments ago, and Ranpo stares down at their hand like it holds anything besides the ugly truths of reality.

“Whatever,” they mumble.

“I mean it. Not even you are untouchable, Ranpo. And I don’t want to lose you.”

Ranpo lifts their gaze to meet Akiko’s. Fukuchi’s betrayal taught them that love is thread as fragile as life itself. If the person Fukuzawa trusted above everyone else—above even Ranpo themself—could turn his back and tear down the Agency, there is no certainty the people Ranpo loves won’t do the same to him.

But…Akiko has already seen war. She faced the full brutality of it when she was only a child, and she did not lose the kindness in her heart. She spent years blaming herself for the blood of an entire regiment of soldiers, and she used her grief and guilt to make herself stronger.

Maybe betrayal is always a possibility; maybe you cannot love without that risk. Maybe you must simply choose who you are willing to chance such pain for.

Ranpo does not regret placing their trust in Fukuzawa, despite it leading them astray about Fukuchi. And if Akiko were to turn her back on them, Ranpo is certain they would forgive her even with their blood staining her hands.

Ranpo’s scars are a reminder of the pain trust can cause. But they are also proof that, even with an ability that elevates them above everyone else, they will still fall victim to their humanity.

Chapter Text

There was a very logical and predictable series of events that led to Dazai and Kunikida sitting in an otherwise-empty waiting room while Kyouka is in surgery. If Dazai had paused for a second to think things through, it could have even been prevented. But he hadn’t, and Kyouka got shot while out on a case that she was only called in for because Kenji had to make a trip home for a wedding, and Yosano is in Kumamoto on a case with Ranpo because they prefer traveling long distances with her as opposed to any of the other Agency members.

Dazai could have insisted Kunikida go with Ranpo, or he could have gone with Ranpo himself. He could have suggested Atsushi fill in for Kenji rather than Kyouka. He should have warned Kunikida that they guy they were after would have a hidden gun, but he expected Kunikida would figure that out himself. He hadn’t factored in Kunikida devoting more attention to whether or not Kyouka was harmed, since she doesn’t have Kenji’s super strength, because he assumed Demon Snow would work well enough as a bodyguard in Kunikida’s mind. But Demon Snow was fighting another ability user and in the split second Kunikida turned to ensure Kyouka was holding up on her own, their enemy pulled his second gun and fired.

Dazai should have been able to stop it.

Instead, he got a call from a frantic Kunikida, giving no more information than the hospital where they were taking Kyouka and what sounded like the beginnings of a panic attack before Kunikida promptly hung up the phone.

He was pacing around the waiting room when Dazai arrived. He plopped himself into a chair and waited silently, until an hour had passed and Kunikida was still anxiously pacing, at which point Dazai decided it was time to intervene. He managed to coax Kunikida into a chair, but he’s still bouncing his leg and twisting his fingers together and periodically pulling his notebook from his pocket just to mindlessly flip through the pages.

“She’s going to be okay,” Dazai says. He doesn’t know for sure, but he says it like he does because Kunikida always believes him when he speaks with such certainty.

Kunikida sighs deeply. His leg starts bouncing faster. His hands are shaking even worse than usual—something that happens when he’s stressed or anxious. He doesn’t say anything in response, which is unlike him.

Dazai purses his lips. He doesn’t like being expected to comfort people, because he isn’t good at it. He doesn’t understand what is wanted from him, and he always seems to say the wrong words. But seeing Kunikida like this is so unnerving that he has to try something.

“Kunikida-kun,” he says, as gently as he can manage, “worrying won’t help.”

“I know,” Kunikida responds tersely.

“Kyouka-chan would want you to get some rest,” he tries.

Kunikida ignores him.

Dazai is running out of things to say. His eyes roam over Kunikida, searching for another option, and his eyes settle on the loose strands of hair that have fallen from his ponytail. Actions speak louder than words, right?

“Turn your back to me,” Dazai instructs.

Kunikida just looks at him warily.

“C’mon,” Dazai grins. “Don’t you trust me?”

“I do not,” Kunikida tells him, but he turns his back to Dazai anyway. Dazai loosens the hair tie, then pulls it from Kunikida’s hair. Kunikida makes a vaguely disgruntled noise in the back of his throat, but he doesn’t start yelling, so Dazai will take that as a victory.

Dazai runs his fingers through Kunikida’s hair, detangling it as best as he can without a brush or comb. Kunikida’s hair is thin, almost silky despite the bleach and dye hiding his natural hair color. Dazai doesn’t know why he chose to color his hair blonde, but trying to picture Kunikida as a brunet is even worse than questioning his life choices.

Dazai spends longer than necessary just letting the soft strands fall through his fingers, reveling in the feeling of it. It’s a strange sort of vulnerability, requiring far more sacrifice on Kunikida’s part than on Dazai’s. It’s the only sort of intimacy they’re good at.

But Dazai is not the sort of person who can grab hold of nice things and keep them, and Kunikida could never want someone like him. So he gathers Kunikida’s hair into one hand, and ties it back up into its typical style, then draws his hands back towards himself.

Kunikida lets out another sigh, but this one is significantly less stressed. If Dazai didn’t know better, he’d almost say it sounded fond.

“Thank you,” he whispers.

Dazai hums noncommittally. “It’s late,” he notes, because it was past sunset when he got the call and Kyouka’s been in surgery for hours. “You should get some rest.”

Kunikida turns to face him. “What about you?”

“I wasn’t the one on a case this evening,” Dazai points out. “C’mon, just lean your head on my shoulder and try to sleep. I’ve heard human contact helps calm your nerves.”

Kunikida looks skeptical, even though Dazai is about 95% sure that one is true.

“I’ll wake you if they come with news about Kyouka-chan,” Dazai promises.

Kunikida relents. He lays his head on Dazai’s shoulder, and only then does Dazai realize this may have been a very, very, bad idea for him. Because Kunikida is just using him as a pillow, and Kunikida thinks he’s just trying to be a good friend. But Dazai wants something else—something Kunikida will never give him—and now he’s getting a taste of the thing he craves so desperately he’d tear his own heart from his chest in order to get it, knowing it will never be his.

But Kunikida does finally fall asleep, even though he should have no reason to trust Dazai like this. Dazai removes his glasses and sets them on the empty seat beside him. He runs his fingers through Kunikida’s hair once more and whispers a, “Sleep well,” he knows will go unheard.

Dazai wants this to be something he can hold onto forever, but forever is not a thing he is capable of, so he’ll be content with having Kunikida in his arms for just this one moment.

Chapter Text

“We will take him down, as we’ve done with all our foes before,” Akutagawa tells him. He is backlit by the light of the full moon, pale skin glowing almost silver, and he is beautiful. Atsushi spent a long time trying to push down such thoughts—shoving them to the back of his mind, the space haunted by stained glass windows and cold cement walls—but he is learning that running from your feelings only causes them to hit you harder once they finally crawl back to the surface.

Atsushi nods, a smile crossing his face.

“Just the two of us,” he says. It isn’t a question anymore; now it is simply an affirmation. They will defeat their enemy, just the two of them, just as they’ve done before.

“Just the two of us,” Akutagawa repeats.

Then he leans in close, wrapping a fist in the collar of Atsushi’s shirt, and he pulls him into a kiss. He still kisses like it’s a battle he needs to win, like he needs to prove himself. Atsushi meets his fire readily, greedily, taking everything Akutagawa is willing to give and then more. They kiss like a fight, and they kiss like a promise.

Rashoumon begins to slip around Atsushi’s body, encircling his limbs and hugging his torso, as Akutagawa pulls away.

As always, Atsushi is left breathless. But oxygen is a secondary concern when Akutagawa’s lips are on his.

“Go,” Akutagawa orders. “I’ve got your back.”

Atsushi obeys, his lips still tingling pleasantly. He charges in headfirst, knowing Akutagawa will cover him exactly as he promised.

Chapter Text

“Did you steal my drink?”

“…No,” Ranpo responds, around the straw in their mouth. Yosano levels them with a glare that they may not be able to see, but they can most certainly feel. “This is mine. I dunno what happened to yours.”

Yosano scoffs. She marches over, but instead of swiping her drink back, like Ranpo expected, she goes for his half-eaten bag of chips instead.

“Hey, wait—!”

“These are mine,” Yosano taunts, easily evading Ranpo’s attempt to grab at her before promptly shoving three chips into her mouth. “I don’t know what happened to yours.”

Chapter Text

“Don’t do that ever again,” Nathaniel growls.

With one swift movement, Nikolai switches their positions, so Nathaniel is the one pinned against the wall. He traces a hand down the side of Nathaniel’s cheek. “C’mon, you can’t deny the risk of getting caught is kinda hot.”

“It is not—”

“Don’t lie to me,” Nikolai whispers. He crowds closer, his lips brushing against the shell of Nathaniel’s ear. “Now, if you don’t want your little Guild friends coming to investigate again, all you have to do is stay quiet.”

“You would do well to listen to your own advice,” Nathaniel grumbles. But he’s not particularly interested in having this argument right now, not with the way Nikolai’s body is pressed against his, setting every cell in his body alight with fiery want. Not when their time is short and Nathaniel’s biggest concern is Nikolai finishing what he started.

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“Close your eyes and open your mouth.”

Gin raises an eyebrow, as if to say Are you serious?

“C’mon, if you’re so sure these gummies actually have different flavors, close your eyes, and I’ll give you one, and you have to tell me what color it is. Or don’t you think you can do it?”

Michizou clocks the exact moment he wins. Gin’s eyes narrow, and a fiery determination burns through them. He closes them decisively, then lowers his mask and opens his mouth.

Michizou grins, allowing himself a moment to appreciate his full view of Gin’s face. Then, he picks a gummy from the pack at random and places it on Gin’s tongue.

And if his touch lingers just a half-second too long, well— Gin doesn’t complain.

Chapter Text

“Our love is God,” Fyodor whispers. Their voice is like silk, wrapping Nathaniel up in an impossible softness. A blanket, or a spider’s web encasing him. Comfort and danger taste all too similar these days.

Our love is God.

“Don’t you see?” They wrap a hand around Nathaniel’s chin, turning his gaze away from them and out to the city below. “The two of us were sent here for a higher purpose. None of your former colleagues understand the will of the Lord, do they? But you and I, together, will enact God’s plan. We will do what no one else can—what has been entrusted to only us.”

Our love is God.

There is no room for such love in Nathaniel’s religion. Nathaniel’s God would condemn him for this, and yet— Everything else Fyodor has said rings true. It aligns itself perfectly with Nathaniel’s understanding of his purpose.

Yokohama is only just beginning to wake.

Nathaniel watches the sun rise; Fyodor watches him.

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Is it your turn or mine?” Ryuunosuke asks, returning to his spot across from Gin. He sets the takeout they ordered for dinner down beside him.

“Yours.”

Ryuunosuke nods slowly. He picks his cards back up, then carefully selects one to play. The determined expression he wears is a little funny to Gin, because of the cards still remaining in their hand are draw fours and draw twos.

He never stood a chance.

At least their dinner won’t grow cold while they play.

Chapter Text

“Can I ask you something?”

Ryuunosuke looks up from his book to find Gin standing before him. She’s looking at the ground, idly fidgeting with the zipper of her jacket. It’s strange behavior for her, though Ryuunosuke can’t imagine what sort of question might make her so anxious.

“Go ahead.”

“Do you…” she hesitates. “Do you ever…wish you were a girl?”

Ryuunosuke blinks. “I do not. …Why?”

Gin sighs. She plops onto the other end of the couch, pulling her knees to her chest. “I don’t know. I think there’s something wrong with me. I just…sometimes, I feel like I wasn’t supposed to be a girl. I never really thought about it before, but now that we don’t have to worry about getting food and clothes and stuff…” She buries her head in her arms and mumbles something Ryuunosuke can’t make out.

He isn’t sure what to say. It isn’t something he can empathize with, and he has never been particularly apt at sympathy. But for Gin, he would like to try.

So he reaches over, across the distance separating them, and places his hand on her arm. “I do not think there is anything wrong with you,” he informs her. “I do not understand, but if you would like to share more, I am willing to listen.”

Chapter Text

“What did you do?”

Silence takes control of the room. As Fyodor’s gaze flits between Nikolai and Nathaniel, the other two look at each other. Their facial expressions flicker as they have a silent conversation, as if Fyodor cannot understand them both with practiced ease. Both Nikolai and Nathaniel are covered in flour, along with the counter and a significant amount of the floor. There are various utensils and mixing bowls spread out everywhere they should not be, and something is burning in the oven.

Finally, Nathaniel exclaims, “It was his fault!”

Nikolai gasps, overdramatic as always, one hand flying up to clutch his chest. “Me?!” he demands. “Why, Fedya, you cannot possibly believe such nonsense! You know I would never even think of—”

“Give me a break,” Nathaniel interrupts. “This looks exactly like something you would do! Because it is!”

“Is not! I was having a nice, peaceful, nap when you—”

“Kolya,” Fyodor interrupts. “Both of you. Just. Quiet.” He sighs deeply, massaging his temples. “What were you trying to make?”

“Sadness and slime cinnamon rolls!” Nikolai exclaims. “Mine were slime-themed, and Nathaniel’s were sad. You can try them, if you want!” Using his ability, Nikolai grabs something from a plate, then steps closer to Fyodor. “Open up~”

Fyodor presses his lips together. He is sincerely beginning to regret his choice in subordinates. Partners? …Whatever Nikolai and Nathaniel are.

(Right now, he just wishes they were less.)

Chapter Text

“Here’s the thing about a barbeque,” Lucy starts, and that’s really all it takes for Ryuunosuke to regret agreeing to come to the Agency’s celebratory cook out for defeating whatever evil they were up against this time. “It brings folks together. From all walks of life.”

“What does that even mean?” Ryuunosuke grumbles.

Lucy scoffs, crossing her arms. “It means that the good vibes of a nice barbeque are the only reason I haven’t trapped you in Anne’s Room yet.”

“I would slice off your arms before you could manage such a feat,” Ryuunosuke assures her.

“I don’t even need my arms for that!”

Rashoumon rises out of Ryuunosuke’s coat, slowly, just for the threat.

Unfortunately, Kenji chooses that moment exactly to plop himself down between Ryuunosuke and Lucy, and Rashoumon retracts on instinct.

“We had barbeques all the time back in Ihatov! And you’re right, Lucy-san—they’re really something special.”

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“You don’t need the sun to keep you warm when you’ve got arms,” Kenji says. “My mom told me that once, when there was a really bad blizzard back in Ihatov. We don’t have electricity there, so we had to rely on other things like blankets and fireplaces and sharing body heat. But I think maybe it can apply to your situation too.”

Elise looks up at him through watery eyes. “I’m not locked inside,” she argues. “I can go out into the sun whenever I want.”

Kenji laughs, but it’s not a mean sound. “I don’t mean the real sun. I mean metaphorically. The sun in your heart. Just ‘cause you weren’t made like the rest of us doesn’t mean you can’t still feel the warmth of friendship!” From his pocket, he procures a wildflower and tucks it behind Elise’s ear. Somehow, it feels like one of the most genuine displays of kindness Elise has ever been subject to.

Maybe because she knows Kenji’s actions aren’t born of fear or obligation. He isn’t part of the mafia; he doesn’t have to be nice to her.

But he is. Like he wants to be Elise’s friend.

Chapter Text

“Come on,” Michizou says, grabbing Kajii’s arm and dragging him up from where he’d previously been lounging on the couch. “Get dressed, you’re my date to the meeting tonight.”

“Why?” Kajii grumbles. He reaches for his bottle of lemon soda, but Michizou continues dragging him towards the door before he can grab it. “I don’t go on these sorts of missions; it’s not in my job description!”

“Yeah, well, Gin got assigned something more important last minute, and no one else is available. So I’m stuck with you.”

Kajii pouts.

Michizou rolls his eyes. “The Boss said there’s going to be free refreshments. Including lemonade.”

Immediately, Kajii’s entire demeanor changes. His face lights up, and Michizou no longer has to drag him around because he picks up the pace until he’s moving faster than Michizou. “Well, you should have started with that! Give me five minutes and I’ll be set to go!”

Chapter Text

“I am only one man’s guy,” Nathaniel growls, “and that man is Jesus Christ.” He pushes past John, who drops the flirtatious expression from his face. It had been a dare from Mark anyway, and he’s just going to count the fact that Nathaniel didn’t immediately stab him as a win.

Still, John has always liked to make a game of pressing his luck.

“Weird,” he comments, tapping his chin with one finger. “I mean, I knew Dostoyevsky had a Jesus kinnie thing going on, but I thought we all understood he’s not actually the Son of God.”

Nathaniel doesn’t respond; he simply slams the door shut behind him.

Chapter Text

“I get it!” Kunikida calls out, raising his voice over the roar of the wind. “You’re angry—believe me, I know what it’s like. But you’re making a mistake!”

“He hurt my brother!” Naomi shouts back. She has the ability user pinned to the ground, one foot on his chest, as she aims a gun at his head. “You could never understand that. You don’t know the fear of losing your sibling!” There is a dangerous fire in her voice—one Kunikida knows he shouldn’t argue against.

He isn’t sure he has an argument anyways. She’s right; he doesn’t have a sibling, and so he’ll never truly know what it’s like. But what he does know is—

“You may be right. But listen to me, Naomi-chan. When your anger disappears—when the adrenaline rush ends and all that rage dissipates… Do you want to be left with grief and regret, or do you want to be left with relief?”

Chapter Text

“All the best people are crazy!” Nikolai laughs as he says it, twirling his cane around in his hands. There’s a dangerous gleam in his eyes that should make Jun’ichirou run, as far and as fast as he can. But…

“Are you insinuating I’m crazy too?”

“Well,” Nikolai’s smile stretches wider, showing off sharp teeth, “you did seek out my assistance, did you not? To go so far, to put your faith in someone who helped frame you as a terrorist and attempted to kill your coworkers and friends, all for the sake of someone who might not even be alive? Tell me, Tanizaki-kun, does that not sound a little crazy to you?”

It does, when Nikolai puts it like that. Jun’ichirou can’t deny it.

“Fine,” he agrees. “Maybe I am crazy, I don’t care. I’ll do whatever it takes to get my sister back.”

Nikolai cackles gleefully. “I was hoping you’d say that!”

Chapter Text

“You really think you can lie to me?” Gin raises an eyebrow, folding their arms over their chest. They shoot a sideways glance at Hirotsu, who simply purses his lips.

“I just—” Michizou falters. He’s always prepared with a thousand excuses for any slightly odd behavior; it’s part of his job as an undercover agent. And yet, try as he might, he cannot find anything to say. Maybe because of how Gin phrased it: You really think you can lie to me?

Because all Michizou has been doing for the past four years is lying. Everything about him is a lie, a facade, a character he made up for the sake of infiltrating the mafia. He is a lie himself. Of course he thinks he can get away with fibbing; it’s what his entire time in the mafia has been built on.

“Tachihara-kun,” Hirotsu says. His voice remains too kind. “You do not need to be vulnerable right now, but understand that both myself and Gin-kun will listen when you are ready to talk.”

And— Oh.

They aren’t suspicious. They’re worried.

Michizou turns away, guilt solidifying like a rock in the pit of his stomach. “Yeah,” he responds, his voice rough. “Thanks.”

Chapter Text

“You look very manly in this photo,” Naomi muses.

Oda looks up to find her holding a photograph of Kunikida, taken from a security camera during his most recent mission.

Kunikida, of course, ignores her.

“Let me see,” Oda says. Naomi hands him the picture and he looks it over before nodding in agreement, just to see if he can draw out a better reaction. “I agree, Naomi-chan. It’s a good photo—very manly. Only thing I’d change is the glasses. He could go for something sexier.”

Naomi snorts.

Kunikida’s brow furrows. “My glasses are perfectly fine. I would appreciate it if you would stop gossiping about me while I am right here, trying to work.”

Naomi rolls her eyes, and Oda bites back a snicker as he passes the picture back over.

Chapter Text

“That’s it.” Margaret slams her hands on the table, standing up. “I’m leaving!”

As she goes, Sigma eyes the spread of cards warily. There’s no way this wasn’t stacked, though they’d assured Lucy wasn’t the one dealing, since she likes showing off her new illegal skills whenever possible. Apparently she isn’t the only (former) Guild member who can stack a deck of cards.

Sigma sighs. They stand too, heading to find Margaret. They tune out the background noise of Lucy yelling at Mark and John while Louisa tries to calm her down.

When they find Margaret, she’s standing with her back against the wall, arms folded over her chest. She huffs. “I know they’re cheating so I’ll lose.”

Sigma purses their lips. “You’re probably right. …But they aren’t the only ones who know how to cheat at card games. …I could help you get a little revenge?”

Slowly, a smile spreads across Margaret’s face.

Chapter Text

Chuuya grabs Fyodor by the back of his jacket, preventing him from taking even one more step.

“No.”

“Why?”

“Because,” Chuuya sighs. “You are not to step within one thousand feet of a Cinnabon. Your partners were very specific. If I have to babysit you, I don’t want you getting high off cinnamon or whatever the hell you did to make them give me that warning.” They begin walking in the opposite direction of the mall, dragging Fyodor behind them. They don’t know how they let Dazai talk them into agreeing to this.

“I have done no such thing.”

“Full offense, but I don’t believe you. Now pick up your feet or we’re going to be late. Sigma is waiting for us and she deals with enough shit just having to be friends with you.”

Chapter Text

“I’m gonna kick your…HEAD!” Lucy exclaims.

Gin raises their eyebrows, clearly calling into question Lucy’s ability to follow through with her threat. Which only serves to fan the flame of anger burning bright in Lucy’s chest. Stupid Gin and their stupid piercing gaze and perfect looks and nimble fingers and Lucy hates that they probably could kick her head, if they tried. It’s infuriating. Gin is infuriating.

“I could do it!” Lucy argues. “You’re not that tall! I could get my leg all the way up there! Just watch!”

Lucy kicks, and while she does come close, Gin easily evades her foot. They dodge effortlessly, and in one swift movement, they’ve got Lucy pinned against the wall with one arm against her throat. Their eyes seem to stare into Lucy’s soul, grey like swirling storm clouds.

Lucy swallows thickly, her gaze dropping to where Gin’s mouth is covered by their mask.

Shit.

Chapter Text

“Um…” Jun’ichirou swallows nervously. “We just exploded a bus.”

“Yes,” Kyouka agrees. Her tone is far too calm for their current situation. The remains of said bus are still smoldering before them, and they’re lucky everyone else managed to escape in time.

“After being attacked by demon triplet ability users.”

“Yes,” Kyouka repeats. She sheaths her knife.

Jun’ichirou stares hopelessly at the smoke wafting into the sky. He’s already imagining the damage report he’s going to have to complete once this case is wrapped up, and they’ve barely even started it. The ability users got away, and Jun’ichirou has no idea which direction they even escaped in, and when he and Kyouka were assigned this case, they weren’t even aware there were ability users involved!

He sighs. It’s going to be a long day.

Chapter Text

“Sit down and shut up!” Ranpo snaps. They are at the end of their rope, and if Elise doesn’t chill out in the next two seconds, he’s going to attempt murder. “If you do, I’ll buy you a candy bar.”

Elise stops her singing and dancing immediately. “Really?”

“Yes! Just— Stop being so annoying!”

Elise sits down obediently. “Okay. I want my candy bar now.”

“I can’t go buy it while I’m babysitting.”

She glares at him for a moment, and then starts singing again, even louder than last time. It hurts Ranpo’s ears and his head and God why is she like this?! If Mori can make her behave however he wants, why is she literally the worst person on earth?!

“FINE!” Ranpo shouts. He marches over to where his stash of snacks is, grabs the first candy bar he sees, and throws it at Elise. “Now be quiet!”

Elise grins smugly as she begins unwrapping the candy.

Chapter Text

“Professor,” Ango says, the word slurring with sleep as it falls from his lips. Taneda looks over at him, unsurprised to see he’s nearly started dozing at his desk. What does surprise him, however, is that Ango meets his gaze and finishes his sentence with, “You are…bald as hell.”

“What?”

But Ango just hums absentmindedly before returning to his work. As if he’s said nothing out of the ordinary.

Taneda lifts a hand to his head, unsure if the comment should make him self-conscious or just concerned for Ango’s well-being. It’s certainly not something he would have said if he were in a sound state of mind, but a sleep-deprived Ango is often one who is unable to control his brain-to-mouth filter.

So, Taneda simply sighs and prepares himself for the battle that is convincing Ango to go home and rest.

Chapter Text

“Have you never ridden a bike before?” Kyouka asks, deadpan. She leans over Atsushi, blocking out the sun, and he can’t tell if she’s being judgmental or just concerned.

“No,” Atsushi groans. He pushes himself upright, rubbing the back of his head where he hit it against the ground. “We didn’t exactly have a grand collection of bicycles at my orphanage.” His gaze drifts over to the offending item, now lying on its side with one wheel still idly turning.

Kyouka nods thoughtfully. “Maybe you should start with training wheels, then.”

“Training wheels?!” Atsushi squeaks. “But those are for kids!”

“They’re for people who are first learning to ride a bike,” Kyouka corrects. “Unless you want Yosano-sensei to heal you after you fracture your skull?”

Atsushi winces. “Maybe I should just never learn to ride a bike at all, ever. How important is it really? I can just walk or use public transportation!”

“Can you walk or take public transportation all the way to Akutagawa’s apartment?”

Atsushi glares at Kyouka. She stares back, wide dark eyes staring straight into his soul, until he breaks.

“Fine,” he grumbles, pushing himself to his feet. “Let me try again. But no training wheels yet, I can get it without them! I just have to figure out how to balance better.”

Kyouka hums like she doesn’t believe him, which only fills Atsushi with more determination. He yanks the bike back into an upright position, sits himself on it, and—

only manages another four meters before he’s on the ground again.

He swears under his breath. Maybe the training wheels aren’t such a bad idea after all.

Chapter Text

“You’re lucky you’re pretty, ‘cause this is bullshit,” Gin mumbles under their breath. They didn’t expect Tachihara to see them, but when silence overtakes the clicking of his keyboard, Gin looks up to find him staring at them, a faint blush dusted across his cheeks.

They narrow their eyebrows at him.

“You think I’m pretty?” he asks.

Gin scoffs, thankful that their mask covers the way their own cheeks are flushing. They roll their eyes in lieu of a verbal answer, and then resume their own work. When the room fills with the telltale sound of Tachihara typing once more, Gin thinks they’re in the clear.

But when they risk a glance upwards, they find Tachihara is still grinning to himself, and the sight makes warmth flood through Gin’s chest.

Chapter Text

Her hands are cold, fingers growing numb from the biting wind. Kunikida cups them in front of her face, attempting to warm them with her breath, but it doesn’t seem to be doing much good. She’s shivering violently, and immensely regretting her choice to wear a skirt instead of pants today. She’d at least had the sense to wear tights beneath it, but the pair she chose are so thin she may as well not be wearing them at all.

“You still hangin’ in there, princess?” Chuuya calls out from several steps ahead. They glance over their shoulder, eyebrows furrowing in concern when their eyes land on Kunikida.

“I’m fine.”

Chuuya scoffs. “Clearly you’re not.” They stop walking, and Kunikida follows suit once she’s caught up. “Give me your hands.”

“What.”

Chuuya holds their own hands out, palms up. Kunikida obeys the order, hoping the pink in her cheeks can be excused by the cold. Chuuya’s hands are significantly warmer than hers, though they do have the advantage of gloves. They’re also much smaller than Kunikida’s hands, but as Chuuya wraps their fingers around hers, she has to admit it does provide a bit of much-needed warmth.

“We’ll stop somewhere to warm up for a bit,” they promise. “I’ll buy you tea or hot cocoa or something.”

“But we’ll be late—”

“And you won’t be doing any work if your fingers freeze off,” Chuuya interrupts. “Now come on, let’s hurry up and get you inside.”

Chapter Text

“Are you happy here?”

Lucy glances up from where she’s wiping down the counter. Atsushi isn’t looking at her, instead tracing his finger around the rim of his mug and staring intently at the liquid inside.

She sighs, abandoning the washcloth to walk over so she’s standing across from him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just…” He glances up for only a moment, then averts his gaze once more. “Do you like working here? Or…would you rather be back with the Guild?”

Lucy purses her lips. Now, it’s her turn to avoid eye contact with Atsushi, letting her gaze drift over to the windows and the bright world beyond. She doesn’t hate this job, even though it sucks when she has to wake up for opening shifts at four in the morning. Her boss is nice, and her coworkers respect her, and she gets to see Atsushi. She doesn’t regret what she did—sacrificing her place in the Guild for him. But…

“I do miss them sometimes,” she admits. “But I’m not upset to be working here instead. And if I could go back, I’d make the same exact choices I did the first time around.”

“Really?”

“Really,” Lucy confirms.

Atsushi offers her a hesitant smile, and Lucy’s heart stutters in her chest. She hates it, but she knows that if Atsushi were to ask, she would throw away her life all over again just to save his.

Chapter Text

“Please, let me in.”

Kunikida raises an eyebrow, but he doesn’t move out of the doorway. Chuuya glances past him to see Dazai snickering. Just for good measure, Chuuya raises their hand and flips him off, which he responds to by sticking his tongue out.

Kunikida sighs deeply. “Why are you even here?”

“Can’t I just visit my boyfriend while he’s at work?”

“No.”

Chuuya pouts.

Kunikida pinches the bridge of his nose. “Give me one good reason why I should let you in.”

“Well, I already ordered lunch for both of us, and there’s still twenty minutes until it gets here. Also—” Chuuya lifts themself, aided slightly by their ability, and presses a kiss to Kunikida’s cheek. He flushes as Chuuya settles back on the ground, grinning victoriously. “That enough to convince you, pretty boy? Or do you still need more?”

“You’re a menace,” he grumbles. But he still moves aside, allowing Chuuya into the office.

Chapter Text

“Is that blood?”

“Nope!” Nikolai answers brightly. He wipes the red smear on his cheek with the back of his hand, then moves his hand to his mouth, as if to prove it’s not blood by licking it.

“Don’t do that!” Sigma screeches, grabbing Nikolai’s wrist and yanking it away from his face. “What is wrong with you?!”

“So many things! I thought you already knew this, Sigma-chan?”

Sigma purses their lips. Warily, they eye what is most definitely blood on Nikolai’s skin. They don’t know where it’s from, nor do they have any interest in finding out. What Nikolai does in his free time is none of their business.

“You know…” Nikolai bats his eyelashes. “If you wanted to hold my hand this bad, you could have just told me.”

“I do not—!” Sigma breaks off into a groan, dropping Nikolai’s hand and turning away, pointedly ignoring the uncomfortable fluttering in her stomach. “Whatever. If you want to give yourself some bloodborne disease, be my guest. Just don’t expect me to feel bad for you.”

“Awww, you’re concerned for me! That’s so cute~” Nikolai drapes himself over Sigma’s shoulders, and it must be purposeful when he rubs his bloodied cheek directly against Sigma. “Maybe we can clean up together?”

“I’m going to kill you,” Sigma growls.

Nikolai only laughs in response.

Chapter Text

“I love you with all my heart, you know that?”

Dazai chokes on his drink. He splutters for a moment, swallowing around the burn in his throat, and then turns his head to look at Kunikida, who is looking at him like he hasn’t said anything out of the ordinary. His gaze is cloudy, and he’s wearing an affectionate smile.

“Kunikida-kun,” Dazai rasps. He pats Kunikida’s shoulder. “You’re drunk.”

Kunikida hums. He leans forward on the table, resting his chin in his hands. His eyes never once leave Dazai. It’s unnerving, and Dazai’s skin is beginning to crawl. He needs Ranpo and Yosano to get back here ASAP so they can distract Kunikida or something.

“Doesn’t mean it isn’t true.” Kunikida frowns. “You do know that, right? That I love you?”

Dazai fights to keep his heartbeat under control, and to prevent his face from going up in flames of embarrassment. It’s not that he didn’t know, but it’s also not like he’s had a vast assortment of people confessing their love for him. Or like he’s had a vast assortment of people who have even admitted to caring about him in any capacity.

(And it’s something that Dazai—

has never been able to say back.)

“I know,” he mumbles, looking down at his own drink so he doesn’t have to face Kunikida as he says it. Even though the chances of him remembering any of this come morning are slim to none.

“You don’t believe me,” Kunikida whispers.

“What? No, I do, I—”

“You don’t believe me,” he interrupts, taking one of Dazai’s hands in his. He presses a kiss to his knuckles and Dazai swears he is going to die here in this dingy bar. He is not going to make it out of this alive. “It’s okay. I’ll keep telling you until you do believe me.”

“I…” Dazai swallows thickly. “You don’t have to do that, really.”

“Hmm…” Kunikida drops Dazai’s hands in favor of cupping his cheeks. He furrows his eyebrows, like he’s pouring all of his concentration into focusing on Dazai’s face. Dazai doesn’t want to know what he sees there. He doesn’t know how Kunikida can see anything of value in him. “‘m tired,” he mumbles. “We should go home soon.”

“Um.” Dazai blinks as Kunikida rests his head on his shoulder, burying his face in Dazai’s neck. “Yeah. Yeah, we can go home soon.”

“And you’ll come with me?”

“Yeah. I’ll come with you.”

Kunikida nods. “Good. I love you.”

“I know,” Dazai whispers. This time, he almost believes it.

Chapter Text

Maybe such an outcome was to be expected. After all, when one bargains with a demon, he has already compromised his faith. But Nathaniel was reckless, stupid, bent on revenge, and now—

Nikolai’s lips are warm against his neck, his breath tickling Nathaniel’s skin as he whispers words in a language Nathaniel doesn’t speak. His hands have found root on Nathaniel’s hips, holding him in place from behind.

In front of him, Fyodor smiles idly, trailing a finger down Nathaniel’s arm. They push themself onto their toes, lips brushing against Nathaniel’s as they whisper, “Will you let us take care of you?”

A denial echoes through Nathaniel’s mind. He knows he shouldn’t, knows this is wrong, knows this is a sin of the highest degree. One he may never find forgiveness for. But when Nikolai bites into his flesh, he groans out a desperate, “Yes.”

“Lovely,” Fyodor hums. They kiss Nathaniel, and it tastes like apostasy, but Nathaniel cannot reach far enough into his chest to find any regret. Not right now, not when Nikolai and Fyodor both have their hands on his body, not when Fyodor slips their tongue into his mouth and he simply melts back against Nikolai, entirely surrendering himself to temptation.

Chapter Text

“Are you sure about this?” Sigma questions. She folds her arms over their chest and raises an eyebrow, lips pressed into a thin line. She’s taking after Kunikida already, it seems, which is rather entertaining for Dazai and exactly no one else.

Dazai nods emphatically. He finishes the final crease of his paper airplane, then hands it over to Sigma. “He’s out cold. There’s no way this’ll wake him up.”

Sigma sighs as Dazai pulls out his phone and opens the camera app. “Why can’t I record?”

“Because you have better aim than I do!”

She grumbles a disagreement under her breath, then warily glances over to where Ranpo is fast asleep at their desk. He’s been snoring for a good thirty minutes now, which means this timing will be perfect.

“If they wake up, I’m throwing you under the bus,” Sigma promises. She pulls her arm back, and Dazai hits record just as the paper airplane goes sailing through the air. The point hits the side of Ranpo’s head, and then bounces to the desk.

Immediately, Ranpo shoots up. He slams a hand down on the airplane, his gaze zeroing in on Dazai.

“Oopsies,” Dazai whispers. He throws himself behind Sigma and cries, “Save me!”

Sigma does not. She steps out of the way and tells him, “Face the consequences of your actions,” and then leaves him to deal with Ranpo’s wrath on his own.

Chapter Text

“Care to repeat that?”

Chuuya freezes, grimacing. Across from them, Dazai is grinning gleefully. Since Kunikida is standing behind them, they can’t see the expression on his face. But they can clearly picture his crossed arms and furrowed eyebrows and hardening glare.

“I thought you were still in the bathroom,” Chuuya mumbles.

When Kunikida doesn’t respond, they risk a glance back towards him. He has one eyebrow raised expectantly, clearly still waiting for a better response.

Chuuya huffs. “I will not send the Agency a bomb just so it blows up in Dazai’s face.”

“That’s what I thought.” Kunikida pats their head, which somehow feels both demeaning and sweet at the same time. “If you’re going to threaten to send him a bomb, pick a place where there will be no other casualties.”

“Hey—!”

Chuuya nods obediently, and they’re rewarded with a kiss on the cheek before Kunikida sits back down. Immediately, Dazai is crawling over into his lap, whining about how it’s not fair that Chuuya gets a kiss and he doesn’t when he didn’t even threaten to blow anyone up. Kunikida rolls his eyes, but kisses Dazai anyways.

And Chuuya is content to simply watch them with a smile on their face.

Chapter Text

“You may have brought a gun,” Fukuchi growls, “but this is Hatchetfield.”

He reaches forward, lightning speed, so fast Jun’ichirou can’t even see him move. His hand closes around Jun’ichirou’s wrist and squeezes. Tighter, tighter, until something snaps, and Jun’ichirou cries out in pain. The gun slips from his grip, clattering loudly against the ground, but Fukuchi does not let go.

“You are a fool for trying to outsmart the Lords in Black.” There’s another sickening crack, and another wave of pain radiating through Jun’ichioru’s arm. He bites his tongue hard enough that he draws blood.

Fukuchi forces him to the ground, standing over him, and Jun’ichirou knows now why the Lords in Black are feared and revered like they are.

There is no way for Jun’ichirou to escape this.

Chapter Text

“Ready?”

Kyouka nods sharply.

Ranpo grins, then calls out, “Commence Operation Milkshake!”

Kyouka and Ranpo both stand back as Demon Snow places one hand over the top of the blender, and then presses the start button. The machine whirs to life, deafening in the small break room, and Kyouka watches in fascination as the blades slice through the fruit and mix it together with the milk and ice cream. Beside her, Ranpo holds their hands over their ears.

Once it’s done, Demon Snow vanishes on command and Kyouka slowly approaches the blender. The liquid inside is thick and a pretty shade of light pink.

Ranpo appears behind her and reaches forward, taking the lid off.

“Well, it smells good,” he says. Then, he turns to her with a grin. “Ready for the taste test?”

Chapter Text

“You will not hurt my friends; there is nothing that will hold me back.” Elise begins to glow, her hair floating up around her. Tachihara can only watch in muted horror from his place on the ground as she manifests a large syringe in her hands. “I know who I am!”

Their enemy doesn’t back down, which is a mistake, because Elise uses her syringe like some sort of gigantic baseball bat and whacks him away when he charges for her. He goes sailing into the wall, and when he thumps to the ground, he does not get back up.

Tachihara blinks, and then Elise is back to normal. She runs over and kneels beside him. “You need to be more careful,” she criticizes. “Now I have to take you back to the mafia doctors for your concussion.” She groans. “And I really wanted to go to that candy store.”

Tachihara grimaces as he pushes himself up into a sitting position. He rubs the back of his head, which is most definitely bruised, but— “I don’t think I have a concussion.”

Elise narrows her eyes. “You definitely do. I can see it in your eyes.” She huffs. “Come on, let’s go. I’ll just have to find someone else to take me shopping.”

Chapter Text

Chuuya walks into the Agency and promptly ignores all the questioning glances thrown their way. They make a beeline for Kunikida’s desk.

“Ew,” Dazai says.

Kunikida ignores them, until Chuuya carefully alleviates his laptop from him, placing it over on Dazai’s desk instead. Then, they haul Dazai up out of their chair and circle back around to Kunikida, dragging Dazai after them.

Kunikida sighs deeply, massaging his temples. “What do you want?”

“It’s two in the afternoon, and someone told me you haven’t eaten lunch yet,” Chuuya says. “We’re getting food.”

Kunikida glares at Dazai, who raises their hands in defense. “Wasn’t me! I was sleeping soundly until I sensed a slimy slug was coming to attack us.”

“Who it was doesn’t matter.” Chuuya flicks Dazai’s ear, then lets go of their arm, allowing them to grab their cane instead of awkwardly standing with one foot hovering over the ground. “I’ve only got an hour, so hurry up.”

“I’m in the middle of—”

Dazai closes Kunikida’s laptop. “Not anymore!”

Kunikida glares at the two of them, but Chuuya’s grin doesn’t falter. They don’t have to look at Dazai to know they’re wearing the exact same expression.

Finally, Kunikida huffs. “Fine. But next time, Chuuya, can you at least text me to let me know you’re coming?”

Chuuya kisses Kunikida’s cheek, then takes his hand and pulls him up out of his seat. “No promises.”

Then, Chuuya drags their partners out of the office, happily ignoring the confused whispers of the other Agency members.

Chapter Text

“Kunikida, you haven’t left your apartment in days,” Dazai’s voice sounds through the phone. “Come on, pleeeaaase?”

“I’m sick, Dazai,” Kunikida responds tiredly, “and I would rather not get you sick too.”

Dazai scoffs. “I don’t get sick. Besides, isn’t it good to go outside and get some fresh air when you aren’t feeling well?” He hums. “Or maybe that was just a lie Mori-san told me because he wanted me out of his office….”

“Why w—” Kunikida stops himself. He doesn’t really want to ask about why Dazai was apparently quarantining himself in his boss’ office during his Port Mafia days. It doesn’t really matter. “No, you’re right. But…”

“But what?” Dazai presses. Kunikida can perfectly picture his smug smile and the gleam in his eyes, already knowing he’s going to win this argument. When Kunikida doesn’t respond, Dazai carries on. “Yosano-sensei says it’s good for me to walk around a little with my cane, if I can. But if you don’t want to come with, I guess I have no reason to go outside either.”

Kunikida grits his teeth. As expected, he’s already lost.

He groans, in lieu of giving Dazai an actual answer.

Of course, Dazai knows what he means anyways.

“Perfect!” He chirps. “I’ll be over in a minute!”

Chapter Text

“Is that a new perfume?”

Kunikida glances up from the report she’s reading over to find Dazai grinning at her. He’s leaning on his cane, left foot propped out to the side so there’s less weight resting on it. There’s a mischievous glint in his eyes, which tells Kunikida that her perfume isn’t actually what he’s concerned about right now.

“It is,” she responds simply. “And shouldn’t you be working?”

“Nope!” Dazai strides closer, then drapes himself over her shoulders. “It’s lunch time. So actually you should be not working!”

Kunikida looks down at her watch. It is, in fact, exactly thirty-seven seconds past noon. She sighs, pushing her glasses up, then shrugs Dazai off of her. She closes her laptop. “I suppose you’re right. But I’ll only get lunch with you if you agree to take the elevator instead of the stairs.”

“What!?” Dazai pouts. “That’s not fair—”

“Take it or leave it.” Kunikida begins straightening up her desk a bit, just so it will be tidy when she returns and she can resume right where she left off.

Dazai huffs. “Fine, fine, whatever.” He pulls Kunikida from her seat, linking their hands together. “You do smell nice today,” he adds. “I wasn’t just trying to suck up to you.”

Kunikida’s face warms. Before Dazai can comment on it, she turns and presses a kiss to his cheek. And she’s very happy to note that he flushes even redder than she did.

Chapter Text

“Me and this guy?” Nikolai grins, goofily, and jabs his thumb in Kunikida’s direction. “We spooned last night.”

Kunikida immediately flusters, his face going bright red. “WHAT?!” He demands. “We— That’s not— You—!”

“Wow…” Dazai drawls as Kunikida continues flailing. His gaze flits back and forth between the two. Kunikida’s embarrassed stammering and Nikolai’s easy amusement. He doesn’t believe for a moment that Kunikida was casually cuddling with a literal terrorist, but it’s much funnier if he pretends he does. “I didn’t know Nikolai-kun was your type! Has he seen your list? Does he really meet all of your requirements?”

Kunikida stops. Nikolai’s smug grin also dips into confusion.

Dazai is about to have so much fun with this.

Chapter Text

“Is my integrity worth anything at all?” Yosano demands. Despite the fire in her words and the unspoken threat wedged beneath them, Fitzgerald holds his confident posture. One leg crossed over the other, hands folded on his knee, meeting Yosano’s gaze head-on.

“We made a deal,” he states.

Yosano’s hands clench into fists at her side. “I will not use my ability like this,” she growls. “If it didn’t work the first few times, then I’m afraid there’s nothing more I can do. I refuse to fruitlessly bring someone to the brink of death so many times.” She doesn’t want to give up. Truly, she wanted to help Fitzgerald and revive Margaret, but she knows what so many repeated deaths does to someone. Even if it’s only near-death. Even if they remain unconscious.

She won’t do it.

She can’t. Not again.

Chapter Text

“Promise me you’ll think about the implications!”

“Erm…” Slowly, Dazai peels Poe’s hands from where they were clutching at his shoulders. “Yeah,” he says slowly. “We’ve thought about it, I promise.”

“Have you though?” Poe challenges. “Have you really?”

They haven’t. Definitely not. But Dazai is not going to admit to Poe, of all people, that he and Ranpo decided to start fake-dating on a whim two weeks ago just to make their coworkers uncomfortable but now that the gossip has spread beyond the Agency and they’re having to face the mortifying ordeal of being known head-on, Dazai is sincerely starting to think maybe he should have considered the implications before agreeing to this.

So instead, he simply offers Poe a sympathetic smile. “I promise I’m being at least a mildly decent boyfriend to Ranpo-san. And, hey, they’re totally polyamorous so you might still have a chance!”

Chapter Text

“Hey babygirl,” Naomi calls across the office. Ranpo looks up, opening his eyes just long enough to successfully catch the piece of candy she tosses at him. Once it’s secure in his hands, he snaps his eyes shut and grins.

“Thanks, babygirl,” he responds. He unwraps it and pops it into his mouth as Naomi giggles.

Over at his desk, Kunikida lets out a long-suffering sigh.

“Don’t worry, Kunikida-kun,” he calls over. “You’re still the ultimate babygirl!”

Naomi’s giggles erupt into gleeful cackling, and Ranpo grins. Someday, they’ll get Kunikida to crack and join in on their little game. But until then, they’ll simply continue playing with their fun coworkers. Like Naomi.

Chapter Text

“Give me your gender.”

Gin and Jouno both freeze immediately, looking over at Tachihara (or, in Jouno’s case, simply turning their face towards him). As soon as he realizes they both have their full attention on him, his hesitant smile turns fearful.

“Me?” Gin signs “Or them?”

“Yes,” Tachihara says. And then, “No. I don’t know! I just wanted you two to stop fighting!”

Jouno frowns. “Tachihara-kun, I do not have a gender for you to take. You know this.”

Gin snorts, which only results in Jouno turning back towards them. They point an accusing finger. “I am not done with this argument! We will resume as soon as I’ve figured out what is wrong with Tachiahra-kun.”

Gin raises their hands in surrender, which they hope is a movement Jouno can hear.

To their left, Tachihara sighs.

Chapter Text

“I’m nobody’s pawn!” Nikolai proclaims. He moves a piece across the chess board. “I’m a queen!” He folds his arms over his chest, grinning triumphantly.

Fyodor frowns. “Kolya…you can’t make that move.”

“Hah!?” Nikolai looks down at the board. “What do you mean? That’s the queen; I can move her anywhere!”

“No.” Fyodor sighs. He pinches the bridge of his nose and wonders why he even agreed to play chess with someone notorious for breaking every rule he comes across. “She cannot jump over other pieces. You jumped her over two pawns and a rook.”

“No I didn’t, ‘cause I zig-zagged her around them.”

“That’s not how chess works.”

“It’s how my chess works!”

Fyodor closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath. This is going to be…a very long night.

Chapter Text

“Go easy on yourself,” Yosano reminds Kunikida as he reaches for the doorknob to let himself out of her office.

“I will,” he agrees automatically.

“I’m being serious,” she says. His grip on the handle tightens. His fingers ache in protest. “It’s fine that you can’t work as fast or as much as you used to. Don’t push yourself past your limits.”

“I know,” Kunikida mumbles. He doesn’t look back at her—he can’t. He knows no one in the Agency is upset with him and he knows he simply must learn to live with his new reality. But that doesn’t ease the weight off his shoulders, nor does it erase the guilt.

He is supposed to be a support beam for the Agency, not the other way around.

Who is he if not the person everyone else can rely on?

Chapter Text

“Hey,” Chuuya says, looking over Dazai’s shoulder, “what the fuck is that?”

“I’m drawing!”

“Drawing,” Chuuya repeats, rolling the word around in their mouth. Dazai is, in fact, using markers on paper with movements that appear to mimic drawing. However, looking at the paper alone, Chuuya would guess he’s doing something closer to seeing how much ink he can waste before someone yells at him. “Drawing what?”

“A cow. It’s for Kenji-kun!”

Chuuya tilts their head. While they’re in the midst of trying to convince themself what they’re looking at could maybe possibly be some strange variation of a cow in a slightly altered reality, Kunikida comes up behind them and wraps his arms around them, dropping a kiss on the top of their head. “What are you two doing?”

“Dazai’s drawing a cow,” Chuuya says. Dazai continues happily scribbling away on his paper.

Kunikida leans closer, presumably to get a better look. He adjusts his glasses. “A…cow?”

“For Kenji-kun,” Dazai explains. “Kyouka-chan, Ranpo-san, Naomi-chan, and I are having a competition.”

Kunikida and Chuuya look at each other. Sometimes, Dazai makes it so hard to figure out if he’s putting on a stupid act or if he’s actually being an idiot.

“I’m, ah…I’m sure Kenji-kun will love it,” Kunikida replies. It’s far nicer than what Chuuya would have said, but they’ll allow it because it is true. Even if Dazai’s drawing looks like a rainbow drank swamp water and then threw it up, Kenji will still appreciate the effort he put in.

Chapter Text

“Are you okay?” Atsushi asks frantically, rushing over to Lucy’s side. 

Through her grimacing, she manages to still glare up at him, which— fair. It sounded stupid, when he said it out loud, but Atsushi just had to ask.

“Let me help you up,” he offers instead. Her legs and knees are scraped up, as are her arms, but the worst of the injury seems to be her wrist, if the way she’s cradling it close to her chest is any indication. “I’ll take you back to the Agency headquarters. I’m sure Yosano-sensei will be able to heal you!”

Lucy’s glare hardens. “Oh, no. No, no, no. I’ve heard the stories about her ability, and I’d rather not.”

“Well I guess I can take you to the hospital and you can end up in a cast for six weeks…”

Lucy winces. She pushes herself to her feet without Atsushi’s help, but just about as soon as she’s standing, she leans against him for support. “Fine,” she grumbles. “Take me to your scary doctor.”

Atsushi grins. “Would you like me to carry you?”

“NO!”

(They only make it about a block before Lucy gives in and lets Atsushi carry her the rest of the way.)

Chapter Text

Bar Lupin exists in a world of its own. It’s sacred ground, and it remains unchanged even after five years. Ango has strayed away from it, but it has been five years. He couldn’t ignore the pull coaxing him back for just tonight.

As expected, Dazai is already seated at the bar, a glass of whiskey in front of him and another placed before the empty spot next to him. The latter has a small wildflower placed carefully in it.

Ango slips into place on the other side of the empty seat. He orders, and then he shifts his gaze to Dazai, who is staring down into his glass. He traces the rim of it idly, expression carefully blank. It is still strange, Ango thinks, to see him without half of his face bandaged.

“Why are you here?” he asks. His voice cuts like a shard of glass.

“Same reason as you.” The bartender places Ango’s drink in front of him, and he sips from it just to give himself something to do.

“It’s been five years,” Dazai notes, “and this is the first time you’ve shown.”

“I’ve been busy.”

Dazai snorts. He leans forward, resting his chin on his hands. He still won’t look at Ango. “Truthfully, I never expected to reconvene with you here after that Odasaku…” He stops, resets himself, and begins again. “I knew it would be years before you risked coming back. I thought, by the time you did, I would be dead too.”

Ango purses his lips. He never quite figured out how to respond to Dazai’s suicidality—he does not react well to kindness or concern, but to offer anything less feels like an encouragement. “And yet, here we are. Against all odds.”

“Against all odds,” Dazai agrees. Finally, he turns to look at Ango, and he raises his glass for a toast.

It’s a hesitant olive branch at best, but Ango will not neglect such a rare opportunity. Certainly not one he never expected to receive.

He lifts his own glass, clinking it against Dazai’s, meeting him in the middle over the empty space between them.

Chapter Text

In the mirror was someone who technically looked like him, but was not him. When Chuuya raises his hand, the person in the mirror mimics the movement. When Chuuya tilts his head, they do the same. But still, Chuuya cannot convince himself that the person he is looking at really is him.

There is some sort of disconnect—a gap he cannot bridge.

He brings his hand up to his hair, but before he can tug just to see if it hurts, there’s a knock on the door. It has to be Dazai, because Chuuya lives alone and no one else has a habit of breaking into his apartment just to bother him. Chuuya thinks, Go away, shithead, but his mouth stays firmly shut and so a moment later, the door swings open.

Dazai appears behind him in the mirror. He takes Chuuya’s hand in his—or maybe he takes the hand of the reflection—and he offers whoever it is he’s interacting with a goofy smile. “You should stop wasting time admiring your reflection and give me attention instead.”

Chuuya frowns. The person in the mirror frowns too.

Then, Dazai copies the expression. He moves his hands to Chuuya’s shoulders, turning him so he’s no longer staring in the mirror. Instead, he’s face-to-face with the real Dazai.

He relaxes, marginally. Under Dazai’s touch, he feels like something that’s just a bit closer to himself.

Chapter Text

“Don’t touch that,” Ranpo warns.

Dazai pauses, his fingers mere centimeters away from the flower. Normally, he wouldn’t hesitate to disobey, but something in Ranpo’s tone tells him right now is not the time to cause problems on purpose. “Why not?”

“Kunikida made it.” They hop off of their chair and stride over to where Dazai is leaning against the counter, reaching out towards the single rose in a vase half-filled with water. “If you touch it, it’ll just turn back into paper.”

Dazai frowns. He drops his hand back to his side. “Why keep flowers around if I can’t even touch them?”

“Uh, because that one isn’t for you? It’s for Chuuya, which you would know if you came out to eat breakfast with the rest of us this morning.”

“I wasn’t hungry!” Dazai folds his arms over his chest. “Anyway, where’s your flower? Or is Kunikida-kun just finally admitting he likes Chuuya best?”

Ranpo laughs. “Mine was made of chocolate, and I ate it already. Unfortunately, only people who eat breakfast get a flower.”

Dazai glares at them. He knows they’re only joking, and even if he isn’t, it’s a stupid thing to get upset about. But Ranpo has a way of getting under Dazai’s skin—often without really meaning to. And they aren’t the sort of person to openly apologize for such mistakes, though Dazai would be hypocritical if he held that against them.

But before he can snipe back with something far crueler than Ranpo deserves, he hears the door open and Chuuya calls out, “We’re back!”

“Don’t—” Ranpo starts, but Dazai is already running towards the door, leaving his cane behind. He’ll have plenty of time to regret it later, after he beats Ranpo to Kunikida and Chuuya.

Chapter Text

“Do not look at me like that.”

Chuuya continues grinning up at Kunikida. They step closer, placing one hand flat against his chest. “Like what, pretty boy?”

His face flushes, and he stammers, but Chuuya isn’t really listening anymore. They’re too busy being enamored with the pink dusting his cheeks and the way his heart thumps hard and fast against their palm. They push themself onto their toes, cupping the back of Kunikida’s head with their free hand, but just before they can press their lips against his, there’s a CRASH followed by a yelp.

Kunikida winces. Chuuya backs away quickly.

“Was that—?”

“Atsushi, yes,” Kunikida answers. He pushes his glasses up, then smooths down his vest. “I’d better go check on him.”

Chuuya huffs. “Fine, fine, whatever. We’re still on for tonight though, right?”

Kunikida sighs, but it’s paired with a fond smile. “Yes. I will see you tonight.” He drops a kiss to the top of Chuuya’s head, and then it’s their turn to flush red as Kunikida turns away to see if Atsushi needs help.

Chapter Text

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Dazai stops. He pivots, slowly, and smiles pleasantly at Ranpo. “Why, I’m getting lunch, of course!”

“Mmmhm…” Ranpo tilts their head, “and how, exactly, are you planning to get down to the café?”

Dazai’s smile tightens. He can’t lie to Ranpo, because they’ll see straight through him. They already know the answer to their own questions—what they’re expecting is a concession and a change of plans, which Dazai refuses to give them without a fight.

“My leg is doing fine today, Ranpo-san, you don’t need to worry about me. I’ll take the elevator back up once I’m done.” He places one hand over his heart. “I swear on my life.”

Ranpo furrows his eyebrows. He’s silent for a moment, and then says, “You know, I was about to head down for lunch too. But the stairs are too much work for me, so I guess I’ll see you whenever you finally get down there.” He shrugs, then turns away from Dazai and heads for the elevator.

Dazai blinks. He was expecting more of an opportunity to argue, but Ranpo has given him an ultimatum now. Which means—

“Wait!” Dazai calls out. “I’ll come with you.”

Ranpo grins over his shoulder, and while Dazai technically lost the fight, seeing Ranpo’s expression almost feels like a victory of its own.

Chapter Text

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The sun does nothing to light Tachihara’s way. Nothing does anymore, not when his world has been doused in darkness twice over and he’s sunk himself into it instead of clinging to the light he was offered.

The Hunting Dogs offered to let him rejoin even after his betrayal, and their doctors said surgery could fix his vision. The mafia doctors said glasses would help since his vision isn’t gone entirely and offered to set him up an appointment with a trusted eye doctor. But Tachihara turned everything down.

He wears sunglasses, and he carries a red-tipped cane from Jouno, and he’s technically still mafia even though he can’t really do anything. His blood runs darker than the world around him, and it’s the life he chose for himself.

He doesn’t know why, really. No one in the mafia is there by choice.

Except for him.

But he found something in the mafia that he has yet to find anywhere else, and he was so desperate to cling to it that he allowed himself to be absorbed by the darkness entirely. He doesn’t deserve the family and friends he found. He doesn’t deserve their support or concern. But he doesn’t deserve it from the Hunting Dogs either. He doesn’t—

His cane bumps into something—someone’s foot, he thinks, and he freezes.

“Oh!” A vaguely familiar voice exclaims. “Sorry, sorry, I wasn’t paying attention to where I was going.” The foot moves. “It’s Tachihara-san, right?”

Tachihara nods slowly. He angles his face towards the voice. “You’ll have to excuse me for not recognizing you based off voice alone.”

“Oh! Of course, sorry, my bad! It’s Atsushi, from the Agency. We haven’t really talked much.”

“Right. The weretiger.”

“Can I help you with anything?”

“No,” Tachihara answers too quickly. But he is actually sort of lost, and technically the mafia and Agency still have some sort of truce, and Atsushi doesn’t seem to be acting openly hostile right now. So he sighs, and he backtracks. “Actually…I don’t…entirely know where I’m at. So, um…maybe directions would be nice?”

“Sure!” He can’t see Atsushi’s expression, but he can hear the smile in his voice. He relaxes, marginally.

It’s been a while since someone has been so friendly towards him.

Chapter Text

“I always thought you were the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen,” Kunikida says. He presses his lips to the pulse point on Dazai’s wrist, allowing them to linger, keeping his touch light.

When he glances up, Dazai’s smile is strained and awkward. “You don’t have to lie to me, Kunikida-kun.”

“I’m not.”

“But—”

“Dazai,” he interrupts gently. He kisses Dazai’s palm next, then flips his hand over and does the same to his knuckles. “I’ve seen you talk yourself up to countless women. Surely you know you’re attractive.”

He looks away. “That’s different.” He shrugs out of Kunikida’s hold, and Kunikida lets him go. “That’s when they can’t see…me.”

“Well,” Kunikida reaches forward, tucking Dazai’s hair behind his ear. He doesn’t touch any more than that, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. “If anyone thinks seeing all of you makes you any less beautiful, they’re simply incorrect.”

Dazai purses his lips, like he’s trying to suppress a smile. He turns away further, though that doesn’t quite hide the blush spreading all the way to the tip of his visible ear. “Kunikida-kun is a suck-up,” he grumbles.

Instead of arguing, Kunikida just laughs.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

“You move around a lot in your sleep, you know that?”

Chuuya groans, the noise muffled by the fact that their face is buried in Kunikida’s shoulder. They’re half-lying on top of him, legs tangled up with his, one arm thrown over his torso and the other splayed out, reaching towards the edge of the bed.

Slowly, they lift their head just enough to look at Kunikida through bleary eyes. “Mm?”

Kunikida smiles at the sight, running his fingers through Chuuya’s hair. He’s overcome with a sudden rush of affection, knowing that he is one of the few people who has been allowed to see Chuuya like this—with their guard down and their heart open, half-asleep clingy and affectionate. He wishes he could simply hold them like this forever.

“Maybe I jus’ wanna be close to you,” they mumble before promptly dropping their head back onto Kunikida’s chest.

He chuckles. “You kneed me in the face earlier.”

Chuuya makes another noncommittal sound in the back of their throat. And then, after a moment, they lift their head again, suddenly appearing far more awake. “Wait, shit, really?” They roll over, off of Kunikida, so their back is to him, and bury their face in their hands. “Sorry, I don’t—”

“Hey, it’s fine, it didn’t hurt,” he interrupts.

“But—”

“Chuuya.” He turns over too, pulling them into his arms so their back is pressed against his chest. He kisses their shoulder. “I have had to share a bed with Ranpo-san on overnight cases. And you are far easier to move off of me in your sleep than they are.”

Chuuya still says nothing, so Kunikida kisses their shoulder again. And then their neck, and the side of their head, over and over until they finally break and laugh, reaching behind them to push Kunikida away. “I’m going to knee you again, but this time on purpose,” they threaten.

Kunikida steals one last kiss before pulling back, narrowly dodging their attempt to swat at him. He rolls onto his back, and Chuuya immediately seizes the opportunity to climb on top of him, perching on his lap. He hardly has time to catch his breath before they’re leaning down, pressing their lips to his.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

“Why are you avoiding me?”

Kunikida grimaces. He doesn’t turn to look at Chuuya, because he knows that the second he meets their eyes, he’ll give into them once more. He takes a breath, then says, “I just need to think about…us…”

Chuuya is silent for a moment. Kunikida fights the urge to look back.

Finally, they whisper, “Oh.”

Somehow, the resigned acceptance is worse than a fight. It’s worse than being crushed by the inescapable gravity of their wrath, worse than any blood or bruises. It’s almost enough to make him go back on his word, to overturn his ideals and fall into their arms all over again.

But he won’t. He can’t.

There was only one way that things between him and Chuuya could ever end. And he would rather force an early death than allow it to burn until the inevitable explosion.

Chapter Text

“No betting, we know the result already.”

Dazai deflates instantly, throwing his head back and groaning. “You’re no fun, Ranpo-san.”

“What’s no fun is making a bet with someone when you both already know what the outcome will be,” Ranpo argues. He taps his fingers against the surface of Dazai’s desk, where he’s taken to sitting mostly because it annoys Kunikida. But Kunikida is out of the office working a case now, and Ranpo is still here.

Dazai huffs. “No one else here will make bets with me, though.”

“Go ask Chuuya.”

“Aww, you’re bringing up my ex now? Are you jealous?”

Ranpo cracks an eye open to be met with Dazai’s teasing smile. He’s leaning forward now, mischief shining in his expression. There isn’t really anyone in the office to perform for right now—Yosano is in the infirmary, the clerks aren’t in their line of sight, and Kenji and Jun’ichirou are too absorbed in their work to pay any attention to Dazai and Ranpo’s antics.

Still, Ranpo plays into it.

“Why would I be jealous when I know I’m better than them?” Ranpo reaches forward, cupping Dazai’s face in their hands. He sighs contentedly, eyes fluttering shut.

“You are,” he agrees, as if he thinks Chuuya can hear him. Maybe they can—Ranpo isn’t going to get involved in the mess of whatever happened between them as teenagers. “Now can we bet on when Atsushi-kun and Akutagawa-kun are going to get together?” His eyes open, dark brown boring into Ranpo with a pleading expression.

Ranpo barks out a laugh. “Nope!”

Dazai pouts. No one is watching, but Ranpo decides to placate him with a kiss anyway.

Chapter Text

“Nope,” Chuuya swats Dazai’s hand away, then turns to look at Kunikida. “It’s your turn now.”

“But—”

“You can’t play a skip card on top of another skip card to get out of your turn being skipped!”

“You can if you like playing with fun rules!” Dazai pouts at Kunikida. “Can’t we play with my rules? The slug’s rules are stupid.”

Kunikida sighs. “Chuuya’s rules are the actual rules, Dazai. That’s how the game is meant to be played.”

Chuuya grins smugly, sticking their tongue out at Dazai.

Dazai rubs his thumb against the edge of his cards, frowning as he stares down at the offending skip card Chuuya just played. “I guess… But Kunikida-kun, you always say that stupid rules shouldn’t have to be followed.” He clutches his cards against his chest, then lies down so his head is in Kunikida’s lap. With one hand, he reaches up to twirl a stray strand of Kunikida’s hair around his index finger. “Surely you’re not against altering the instructions a little?”

Contemplation flickers in Kunikida’s expression.

Chuuya is going to kill that shitty mackerel bastard.

Chapter Text

“What’s this?” Chuuya asks, skeptical. They look over the cup in their hands. It appears normal enough, but they know better than to judge based on looks alone. Especially when Ranpo is involved.

“It’s tea!” Ranpo replies. “Your favorite, no less. I know, I know, I’m amazing.”

Chuuya still isn’t convinced. “Why bring me tea?”

“Because!” Ranpo grins. He leans in, and Chuuya is forcibly reminded that he’s just a bit taller than they are. They hate him for it, but they hate him for a lot of things. “You’re pretty, and my payment for bringing you a gift is you kissing me.”

Chuuya’s grip on the cup tightens instinctively. They don’t really want to crush it and have it go to waste, though, so they slam it down on their desk before grabbing Ranpo by the collar and tugging him into a bruising kiss. Their other hand tangles itself in his hair, fingernails digging into his scalp, and they bite down on his lip hard enough to draw blood. If Ranpo’s ulterior motive for being nice is getting Chuuya to kiss him, they’re going to make sure he gets exactly what he asked for.

Chapter Text

“Are you sure about that?” Ranpo whispers, their breath warm against Dazai’s mouth. Their fingers tighten in his hair, dragging his head backwards so he’s forced to look them in the eye. He scarcely remembers what they were even arguing about. He’s far more interested in getting Ranpo’s lips back on his.

It’s a bad idea on every level, and it’s inevitable that Dazai is going to simply discard them once he’s had his fill. But until that happens—

“I am.” He lifts a hand to Ranpo’s face, tracing his thumb over their lips. “If I weren’t sure, I wouldn’t be here.”

Ranpo hums. “I would love to dissect your brain and figure out how it works,” they say. Heat pools in Dazai’s gut at the thought, and he feels himself smile in response.

“Do it, then.”

Ranpo grins.

Chapter Text

“What are we going to do?”

“Well…” Ranpo taps a finger against their chin. “Making out probably wouldn’t help the situation, but it also wouldn’t make it any worse…”

Dazai glares at them, despite their eyes being closed. They’re smart enough to know what he’s doing without seeing it. “I think it would make things worse, actually. Lucy-chan kicked us out for flirting, and you want to respond by making out right outside?”

“Yes.”

Dazai considers this. On one hand, it would be funny. On the other, he’s not sure how much longer his leg will be able to handle standing up. But maybe if he…

He grabs Ranpo’s arm, maneuvering them so Dazai’s back is against the wall and Ranpo is across from him. He leans his cane against the wall beside him, then rests his arms around Ranpo’s neck. “I might fall over if we stay out here for too long.”

Ranpo snorts. “Don’t worry, I guarantee someone will catch us quickly.”

Coming from Ranpo, that’s more than enough reassurance. So Dazai pulls them closer and seals their lips together.

Chapter Text

“What, are you scared?” Chuuya raises an eyebrow, smirking in a way that says they know they’ve won. Kunikida should know better than to get caught up in their traps at this point, really, but he still falls for them every time.

(At least he knows Chuuya will always be there to catch him.)

“Not at all.” Kunikida swipes the other controller. “We only have time for one round, though.”

Chuuya’s eyes light up, and Kunikida thinks he can hardly be faulted for giving into their whims when this is the sight he gets in return. Even if he loses, seeing Chuuya glowing with happiness is a victory in and of itself.

“Loser pays for dinner?”

Kunikida nods. “And winner gets to pick what we eat.”

Chuuya laughs. “Deal. You’re going down.”

Chapter Text

“Catch me!”

Dazai yelps, hardly even having a moment to brace himself before Ranpo crashes into him. Of course he can’t support both of their weights because he can hardly support his own anymore, so they go toppling onto the couch together in a tangle of limbs. Dazai’s head smacks against the cushions, and his vision whites out for a moment.

When the world snaps back into focus, Ranpo is on top of him, grinning down at him.

“What is your problem?” Dazai grumbles. “You know I can’t catch you.”

Ranpo’s smile only widens. “That means we’re both stuck here now, I guess. How terrible.”

“Where even is your cane?”

“I don’t remember. You should kiss me.”

Dazai turns up his nose, as best as he can when he’s lying on his back beneath Ranpo. “No.”

“You’re a terrible boyfriend.”

“You just attacked me!”

“I did it lovingly.” Ranpo bats their eyelashes. “C’mon, would you rather be doing your work right now?”

Dazai purses his lips. Unfortunately, Ranpo makes a valid point. And kissing them is a rather entertaining way of shutting them up. So he supposes he’ll let them win this one.

Chapter Text

“Don’t tell me you’re scared,” Chuuya taunts. “Surely the world’s greatest detective knows better than to doubt my skills.”

“I’m not scared!” Ranpo bites back, his voice pitched slightly too high. “And I don’t doubt your ability; I doubt your desire to keep me alive.”

Chuuya laughs. They hold out a hand, glowing red. “Guess you’ll just have to trust me, then.” He has no reason to do so, really. Chuuya has been mostly hostile towards him since they got out of Poe’s novel. But they know better than to coax him in the sky only to drop him thirty stories.

Something unreadable flickers across Ranpo’s face, and then he places his hand in Chuuya’s. “Fine,” he grins. “Show me the stars, Mr. Fancy Hat.”

Chapter Text

Kunikida’s hair glints golden in the evening light, and Dazai’s breath catches in his throat. Kunikida isn’t doing anything out of the ordinary; he’s just bent over his desk, absorbed in his work, while Dazai messes around at his own desk and pointedly does not do any of the work he’s supposed to be doing. But he’s never really stopped to just look at Kunikida before.

He’s never observed the way the setting sun paints him golden.

His mouth goes oddly dry, and his chair slams forward from where he’d been leaning back on it.

Kunikida starts at the noise before looking up to locate the source of it. His eyes narrow when they meet Dazai’s, but then his annoyance smooths out into concern. “Are you alright?”

A beat passes. Dazai thinks: Why wouldn’t I be? And then he remembers his face is doing something weird, so he shifts his expression back to his ever-present smile and directs his gaze just to the left of Kunikida’s head before pulling out a response that is probably a lie.

Chapter Text

“You look nice,” Gin says softly as they cap the nail polish bottle. Their lips lift up into a smirk. “Pretty, even.”

Something sparks in the pit of Tachihara’s stomach. He stares down at his freshly painted nails, pastel pink because Gin doesn’t typically use such a color for themself. “You think so?”

Gin laughs. They lean in and peck his cheek. “I could do your makeup too, if you wanted. We’ve got plenty of time before Ryuu gets back.”

They say it like a joke, but Tachihara isn’t sure he wants it to be one. He’s never worn makeup before—never even gave a thought to whether or not it’s something he’d be interested in trying. But he does like the way his nails look and he liked the way Gin called him pretty and he sort of wants to agree just so maybe they’ll say it again.

Chapter Text

Up to this point, Kunikida has only heard tales of Corruption. First in hushed whispers, and then in gruesome detail from Chuuya after they elected to share their past with him. But nothing could have ever prepared him for what it’s like to see such a thing in person.

It is impossible for him to tear his gaze away.

Chuuya has always been a force of nature, far bigger than their body, able to destroy anything and anyone in their path. But this—

This is indescribable.

It is as beautiful as it is terrifying.

Chuuya is at the center of the storm, manipulating black holes with their bare hands, snarling like a beast even as their body struggles to hold up against such power. All Kunikida can do is watch.

The world splits at the seams. 

And then it’s over, all the chaos and destruction reigned in with a single touch from Dazai. Chuuya crumbles, and Kunikida runs to them. He weaves through the wreckage until he’s found Dazai with Chuuya in his arms, and he drops to his knees beside them.

“We need to get them to Yosano-sensei,” he says. He can hear the rising hysteria in his voice, but he can’t exactly comprehend that he was the one who spoke.

Chuuya ignores his words anyway, offering him an exhausted smile. “Still think this isn’t enough to scare you away, pretty boy?”

Dazai frowns. Chuuya said it like a joke.

They all know it’s not.

Kunikida cups their cheek. He leans down and presses a kiss to their forehead. “Never,” he promises. “I said I wasn’t going to leave, and I always keep my word.”

Chapter Text

“Ranpo-san…” Kunikida sighs, pushing her glasses up. “Why are we here?”

Ranpo hums around the lollipop in their mouth. They’ve been sitting in this park for nearly an hour, and as far as Kunikida can tell, nothing of any importance has happened. Ranpo is not a particularly patient person, so if they’re waiting for something, it must be important.

However…Kunikida has no idea what it may be.

Ranpo pulls the sucker from their mouth and points it at Kunikida. “You know something?”

Kunikida should have known better than to expect a straight answer. She bites back a sigh. “What is it, Ranpo-san?”

“You’ve been working too much.”

Kunikida raises an eyebrow.

“That’s not why we’re here, though.”

“Okay…” Kunikida looks around the park again, as if anything new might catch her eye this time. “Then…why are we here?”

Ranpo grins. “It’s a secret!”

Chapter Text

The scarf is heavy where it hangs over Chuuya’s shoulders. Blood red and too long, ill-fitting and not meant for him. But it compliments the glow of his ability nicely, he supposes. It sticks out like a sore thumb against the black and white of the rest of his outfit. It clashes terribly with his hair.

He turns away from the mirror, back to the Black Lizard battalion leader. Tachihara. He’d requested an audience—Chuuya still isn’t sure why.

He’s staring at him with confusion etched across his face.

“Is something wrong?” Chuuya snaps.

“No!” Tachihara squeaks. “No, no, I just—” he lets out a nervous laugh. His eyes dart around the room. There’s something off about him, but Chuuya can’t quite pinpoint what it is. If only Dazai were—

Chuuya’s hands clench into fists. He dispels that train of thought.

Tachihara takes a deep breath, clearly steeling himself for something. “I was just going to ask if there’s anything you need from myself or the rest of the Black Lizard to help you settle into your new position.” He smiles, charming, charismatic. It’s annoying. “Hirotsu-san, Higuchi-neesan, and I are happy to help with whatever you might need.”

He’s probably just trying to score the executive position that has opened up.

Chuuya turns away. Fixes his gaze to his reflection. Everything about it looks wrong.

“I will let you know if I need anything,” he lies. “You are dismissed.”

Chapter Text

“You should be more careful,” Gin chastises.

“I’m fine,” Ryuunosuke grumbles as he presses a cloth to the deep gash on his arm. Gin watches for a moment, chewing on their lip, debating whether they should step in or leave him to his own devices. He’s cleaned up worse wounds on his own before, but that doesn’t mean Gin likes to let him deal with injuries alone.

“Why didn’t you go to the doctors?”

“This was closer.”

“Ryuu—”

“Could you get another cloth for me?”

Gin’s gaze dips to the cloth he has held against the wound. Blood is already beginning to seep through it. He’s going to pass out if he isn’t careful.

“Fine,” Gin agrees. “But I’m stitching it up for you too.”

Chapter Text

Nathaniel can only watch in horror as Nikolai plucks the rose from its vase and tightly curls his hand around the stem. He doesn’t even wince, offering no indication that the thorns have torn into his flesh apart from the blood droplet that falls to the floor. His smile remains plastered on his face and he stares at Nathaniel, unblinking.

“What are you doing?” he asks, though he knows it’s pointless.

“Roses,” Nikolai says, as he returns it to the vase, “are symbolic of love, which is symbolic of attachment, which is symbolic of caging yourself. Have you ever thought about that?”

Nathaniel stares at the blood pooling in Nikolai’s palm. “No, I have not. No sane person thinks the way you do, Nikolai.”

Nikolai throws his head back, cackling. Then, he dances over to Nathaniel and trails a bloody finger down his cheek. Nathaniel’s hands curl into fists at his side, fingernails digging into his skin so he doesn’t reach out on instinct. “You’re finally starting to get it!” Nikolai brings his other hand up to Nathaniel’s face, cupping it.

He grins, maniacal, evil, like the devil himself. Nathaniel hates him.

His fingernails break his own flesh.

“Roses are symbolic of love,” Nikolai whispers, breath warm against Nathaniel’s lips, “but everyone ignores the thorns. Love smells sweet, but it can tear you apart and the petals have always been blood red. Surely you understand that much?”

There is a confession hidden in there, somewhere, Nathaniel thinks.

He admits, “I do.”

Chapter Text

The world burns a bright, blinding white as it splits apart. Sound itself seems to vanish and all that’s left is a ringing echoing in Aya’s ears. She’s frozen in place, unable to move, hardly able to understand what just happened.

Bram is—

?

Darkness blocks her vision as something warm and sturdy envelopes her, wrapping its arms around her body, holding onto her. It can’t be Bram because Bram is dead gone taken away possessed? Bram pushed her away, eyes wide with concern, so he wouldn’t be protecting her from the light now. It must be the Agency leader—the one who defeated Fukuchi.

Aya squeezes her eyes shut. Face buried into cloth still damp with blood. A scream bubbles up in her throat, but her mouth stays firmly shut. The silence breaks for the rushing roar of wind sweeping past them, but Fukuzawa’s hold does not falter. She digs her fingers into the fabric of his yukata.

She doesn’t know if she wants him to let go or hold tighter. She wants to run back to Bram, she wants to ask him what happened, wants to beg him to come back but she can’t. Because Bram’s face has been replaced with someone else who is not him and who wants to destroy the world and didn’t they just defeat the bad guy?! Shouldn’t this all be over?! WEREN’T THEY ALL SAFE?!!!

Nothing can be heard over the wind.

If Aya screams, she has no idea.

Somewhere across the city, her dad is at home, certainly angry at her for being late. And he won’t get it because he never does but Aya has lost people too, and she knows what grief is. She knows it doesn’t have to turn to anger, but even when it does—

It’s still just an aching hole in your heart.

Aya doesn’t want Bram to just be another void beside her mom and sister. She wants him back, she wants him BACK! But—

She doesn’t even know if that’s possible.

She doesn’t know what happened to him.

She doesn’t know if she’ll make it out of the next few minutes alive, or if this blinding light will kill them all. She doesn’t know she doesn’t know she doesn’t know she doesn’t—

She hopes

If this is the end, she hopes she’ll get to see her mom and her sister and Bram again. In whatever life comes next.

Chapter Text

Tanizaki cancels out his ability as the body hits the ground with a thump. Tachihara’s heart is still hammering in his chest, and he can still feel the glass shard that was pressed against his throat mere milliseconds prior.

Slowly, he lifts his fingers to his neck. They come away red.

He looks to Tanizaki, expecting— He’s not sure what, exactly. Horror. Regret. Revulsion. He’s spent his first few months in the mafia going out of his way to avoid directly killing anyone. But the only thing showing in his expression is pure, unfiltered, rage.

(Eerily reminiscent of his reaction when Naomi was threatened.)

In the blink of an eye, Gin is standing across from him, placing themself between him and Tanizaki. Concern plagues their expression, but they remain silent as they look him over. They’re joined shortly by Higuchi, who fusses over him and scolds him for not being more careful until Gin calms her down.

Tachihara filters most of it out. He’s still staring at Tanizaki.

“What was that?” he asks.

Tanizaki frowns. He wipes the blood from his knife with the sleeve of his sweater. Gin and Higuchi turn their focus to him as well, but he doesn’t falter as he slips the weapon back into its sheath. “I was just doing my job. Don’t think about it too hard.”

“But you don’t kill people?” Higuchi points out, her voice tilting upwards and turning it into a question.

“I never said that.” Tanizaki turns his back to them. “I was taught to search for other ways to handle my enemies, but if someone I ca— if someone is in danger, I have no qualms doing what needs to be done. Now let’s get out of here before their backup arrives.”

Chapter Text

“Is this…really a good idea?”

“Yes!” Lucy tosses another crumbled paper into the fire. “I hated this class and I’m going to celebrate the end of the semester by burning everything.”

Margaret frowns. She picks up the one textbook Lucy hasn’t ripped apart yet and flips through it. “What if you end up needing this stuff? And didn’t you rent this one?”

“Oh! That copy is actually Mark’s.” Lucy plucks the book from Margaret’s hands, then rips out several pages and adds them to the fire as well. “I turned mine back in already.”

“…But Mark rented his too?”

Lucy grins. “Sounds like his problem, not mine. Now are you going to make s’mores with me or not?”

Chapter Text

“Woah woah woah!” Chuuya places themself between Gin and Tachihara. With a simple touch to both of them, they’re held back by gravity. “What the hell is going on here?!”

Gin, expectedly, doesn’t answer. They simply glare past Chuuya at Tachihara. If looks could kill…

Chuuya grimaces, then turns and raises an eyebrow at Tachihara.

“Don’t look at me!” he exclaims. “I didn’t do anything!”

Chuuya bites back a sigh. They pinch the bridge of their nose, trying to figure out the best way to deal with this situation. Gin has been…hostile towards Tachihara ever since the revelation that he was working with the Hunting Dogs. Chuuya can hardly blame them, and if it were their choice, they would have had him executed long ago. But Chuuya isn’t going to fight this battle against Mori because they simply don’t care that much.

They have half a mind to just let the two of them go at each other.

But that will result in a lecture from both Mori and Kouyou, and Chuuya doesn’t have time for that.

Maybe they should just drag the two back to the Black Lizard office and make Hirotsu deal with this.

Chapter Text

“Maybe we…shouldn’t,” Dazai whispers, though his hands remain firmly on Ranpo’s shirt. He doesn’t want to pull away, but this also seems a little too far for something that’s just a bit. Typically, he wouldn’t care so much, but—

Something about doing this with Ranpo specifically makes his stomach twist uncomfortably.

“Why not?” Ranpo’s breath is warm against his neck. Dazai wants their lips back on his skin. But also he doesn’t. He wants to be as far away from here as possible. There is no one to watch them here, tucked away on Dazai’s futon in the dorm he half-cleaned for Ranpo’s sake. There’s no reason to perform.

Still, Dazai doesn’t have a good answer to Ranpo’s question.

“Because,” he says, the word clunky on his tongue. He hates not having a lie ready to go for every situation, but Ranpo could see straight through any falsities anyway. “Because this isn’t…”

Because this isn’t real.

It isn’t exactly fake, though, either. Not at this point. It’s sitting precariously on the line between, constantly in danger of tipping over. This would push it off the edge, but Dazai isn’t sure in which direction. He doesn’t want to think about it.

Ranpo exhales slowly. Dazai wants to keep them close—so close they cannot properly look at him, because then they’ll see everything Dazai doesn’t even know how to sort out himself.

But when they pull back, he lets them go.

Their eyes are shut. They appear vaguely conflicted. Dazai wants to run away and never come back.

“You’re right,” they agree, voice strained. “We shouldn’t.”

Chapter Text

“You’re such a liar.” Dazai pokes Ranpo’s shoulder, grinning playfully. “Remember that case we did together in Sendai? We went to a bar the first night and you finished your entire drink. So you have found one you like!”

Ranpo throws their head back, groaning. “That was so long ago, how am I meant to remember that? Besides, it was only because you figured out the right mix so I wouldn’t be able to taste the alcohol at all and gave the bartender very specific instructions.”

“Of course I did! I was a very good friend, even back then.”

Ranpo frowns. “Weren’t we dating?”

Dazai hums. He tracks back through his memories, slots the case in Sendai into the timeline chronologically and determines, “Yeah, you’re right. I was a very good boyfriend then!”

Ranpo snorts.

“Hey!” Though, Dazai can’t really protest—he’s a shitty boyfriend and they both know it. But he’s going to play upset about it just for fun.

However, when he turns away to cross his arms and pout, he realizes everyone else in the office is staring at them in silence. Wide eyes, confusion etched across their faces, even Yosano is looking at them with a sour sort of expression.

“What?” he asks.

“What the hell do you mean weren’t we dating?” Yosano demands.

Ranpo waves a hand vaguely. “We dated for a bit about a year after Dazai joined the Agency. I’m pretty sure you knew this.”

“I’m pretty sure I did not!”

Tanizaki raises his head nervously. “I…don’t think— think any of us knew.”

Naomi pokes her head around the corner. “I did! It was super obvious.”

Dazai chuckles to himself. At least he can count on one other person in this office to be observant.

Chapter Text

Dazai fidgets under Ranpo’s gaze, eyes flitting anywhere apart from their face. His fingers drum against his thighs and he squirms in his seat.

Ranpo doesn’t break their stare.

Finally, Dazai whines, “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Do you not like it?”

Dazai’s face flushes, albeit only slightly. Still, of course someone as observant as Ranpo is will pick up on it easily, and it’s not a sight Ranpo thinks they’ll be forgetting anytime soon. “No,” Dazai lies. “You…your eyes are too green. It freaks me out.”

Ranpo laughs. Dazai’s cheeks redden even more, but before he can open his mouth to say something else stupid, Ranpo reaches forward and tugs him into a kiss. 

Chapter Text

“That’s horrible,” Dazai says, grinning widely. “Let’s do it.”

Ranpo matches his smile, then jumps down from where they’d been perching on Dazai’s desk. They wobble, expectedly, since they left their cane back at their own desk, and Dazai reaches out to steady them from where he’s still sitting.

Once Ranpo has regained their balance, he swipes Dazai’s cane and uses that to retrieve his own. Then, they make their way to the café downstairs where Kunikida, Tanizaki, and Atsushi are currently discussing a case over lunch.

“Hiiii!” Dazai calls out as soon as they emerge from the elevator. He would wave, except his free hand is currently occupied by holding Ranpo’s, and that’s more important for this charade.

Kunikida audibly groans. Tanizaki and Atsushi just offer him strained smiles.

They play nice at first, ordering food and drinks from an already-irritated Lucy. Dazai taunts her, and she calls him a flat-ass mummy wannabe, which he pretends to be offended by for approximately two seconds before Ranpo sweetly assures him he’s a very pretty mummy wannabe and then kisses him affectionately.

Lucy gags.

Ranpo smiles into the kiss.

They slide into the booth behind Tanizaki and Atsushi, so Kunikida—sitting across from them—can see them easily. They both sit on the same side, and after a moment of adjusting, Dazai pulls Ranpo into his lap.

Ranpo initiates the kiss, and Dazai sighs contentedly into it, allowing Ranpo to lick into his mouth. He tastes like the strawberry soda he drank earlier, and Dazai finds he doesn’t mind the sweetness so much anymore.

Especially not when he flicks his eyes open and glances over towards Kunikida, who has gone beet red.

Dazai’s eyes fall shut and he lets out a low moan to really bring the performance home. He’ll give it another thirty seconds before Lucy snaps and banishes them again.

Chapter Text

“It’s you,” Dazai breathes out.

Ranpo tilts his head. “Me?”

“You,” Dazai repeats. Strangely, Ranpo can’t figure out what he means by that. Even cracking their eyes open to physically observe the man standing across from them, it’s like there’s something blocking Ultra Deduction. As if Dazai’s nullification ability is preventing him from getting an accurate read.

But Ultra Deduction is not a real ability, and so Dazai shouldn’t have such an upper hand. Still, nothing Ranpo sees is giving him the answer he’s searching for.

It’s you.

Dazai sees him as a threat, but one to be treated with care. Keep your friends close, keep your enemies closer. Or whatever. Maybe Dazai sees Ranpo in the same way Ranpo sees him—an even match for his skill, someone he should know better than to mess with, someone he is inexplicably drawn towards despite that. If they were on the same side, they could destroy the world.

Ranpo closes his eyes once more. “And who am I?”

He can hear the smile in Dazai’s voice when he drily replies. “The world’s greatest detective.”

“Hah!” Ranpo laughs. “Now, that’s a new one. You flatter me, Dazai-kun.” He leans in, hands on his hips. “Tell me, do you really think I’m the greatest detective in the entire world?”

Dazai hums. His footsteps draw near Ranpo until he must be standing right across from him. There is a soft rustle of fabric, and then Dazai’s hand is cupping Ranpo’s chin. Ranpo’s eyes flick open on instinct, and he is met with an empty void of darkness in Dazai’s own gaze.

Though, it glints with slight amusement.

“Those are not my words,” he says.

“Whose are they, then?”

Dazai smiles, vaguely. “If you joined me, we could save this world with much more ease and confidence than what I alone can accomplish.”

“If you joined me,” Ranpo responds, “we could save you.”

Chapter Text

“Does ‘in kahoots’ count as a relationship status?” Dazai asks, frowning down at Ranpo. They’re lying across the couch with their head on Dazai’s lap, pretending to be asleep so no one bothers them.

They shrug, as best as they can while laying down. “It could be.”

Dazai nods to himself. “Alright. I’ll change it to that, then.”

Ranpo cracks one eye open. “What are you even doing?”

“Updating my relationship status on social media! I wanna see how long it takes Chuuya to notice.”

Ranpo smirks. “Trying to make them jealous?”

“I dunno…” Dazai twirls a stand of Ranpo’s hair between his fingers. “Are you insinuating I’m merely using you to get my ex back?”

“Are you?”

“You’re smart; you tell me.”

Ranpo chuckles softly. They push themself up into a sitting position and then crawl into Dazai’s lap. They lean in close, lips mere millimeters away from Dazai’s, and whisper, “If you were really trying to make Fancy Hat jealous, you would have already dragged me over to their apartment building so we could make out in front of it.” They tuck a strand of Dazai’s hair behind his ear. “No, no. This isn’t about Fancy Hat. This is about you wanting attention from me.”

Dazai sighs. “You see straight through me as always, Ranpo-san. I’m impressed.”

“Impressed?” Ranpo hums. “Tell me more.”

Chapter Text

Chuuya twirls one end of Kunikida’s red ribbon around their finger, grinning at the way his cheeks flush horribly in response. They came to meet him for lunch, because they’ve both been too busy to see each other much during the past few weeks, but Chuuya is seriously debating ditching work for the rest of the day and just dragging Kunikida back to their apartment. It’s only because they know Kunikida would never agree that they refrain from suggesting as much.

They lean closer to him, grinning, tugging on the ribbon slightly. “See something you like, pretty boy?”

Kunikida purses his lips together. He tries to glare, but it doesn’t exactly work. Chuuya opens their mouth to tease him some more, but before they can say anything else, someone loudly clears their throat.

Chuuya looks up to find Lucy glaring at them. She sets their drinks down on the table harshly, tells them, “I am so sick of you people coming into my café and being disgusting,” then stomps away.

And, okay, maybe Chuuya should respect Lucy’s wishes and back off. But it’s been a week and a half since they’ve gotten a moment alone with Kunikida, and they’re feeling a bit vengeful. So instead, they flip Lucy off and yank Kunikida into a kiss.

Chapter Text

“This is the worst day of my life,” Ranpo grumbles, hand held tightly in Kunikida’s as she guides them through the streets, leading them back in the direction of the Agency. They sniff. “I’m gonna get sick.”

“You were the one who decided to go out on your own,” Kunikida reminds them. It’s true, but did she seriously need to point that out? Ranpo thought they could find the bakery on their own. They were just there two days ago with Dazai and Atsushi. But they must have taken a wrong turn, and then before they could figure out where they were, it started raining, and now Ranpo is soaking wet.

“And you’re the one who didn’t bring an umbrella,” they bite back.

“You told me to come as quickly as possible, and my umbrella is in my dorm.”

Ranpo groans. They hate when Kunikida makes points they can’t argue with. “Well I’m still cold and wet and I don’t like it! Why are we still so far away?!”

Kunikida sighs. She slows to a stop, and Ranpo follows suit, though they can’t imagine why they’ve stopped walking when they’re very clearly not back inside the Agency office with a very nice roof over their heads.

“If I kiss you, will that make up for the lack of an umbrella and the long walk back?”

Ranpo considers this. It won’t dry them or stop the rain, but they’re not stupid enough to pass up such a golden opportunity. They sigh. “I guess, maybe. Two kisses. One now, and one when we’re back at the office.”

“Very well,” Kunikida agrees. She leans down, pressing her lips to Ranpo’s. The rain continues pouring around them, but for just a moment, Ranpo feels impossibly warm.

Chapter Text

Lucy scrubs at her eyes furiously, vainly attempting to stop her tears before they can roll down her cheeks. She hates crying, especially in front of other people, especially in front of Gin. But she’s running on two hours of fitful sleep and she’s exhausted and there’s still so much to do and she doesn’t even know if Atsushi and the others are alive, and—

“Hey,” Gin interrupts, voice soft and slightly muffled by their mask. They cup Lucy’s cheek, tilting her head up so she’s forced to look at them. Their eyebrows are furrowed in concern.

“Sorry, sorry, I just—”

Gin places a finger over Lucy’s lips, cutting her off. She sniffles.

Gin lowers their mask, then leans forward and presses their lips to Lucy’s. The kiss is short, but tender and caring, and it says more than Gin’s words alone ever could. It’s a promise, that no matter what happens, they will both be okay. They have gone through trials and tribulations time and time again, and the world has yet to destroy either of them.

“Thank you,” Lucy mumbles once they’ve separated. Gin smiles softly. They kiss Lucy’s forehead, then lift their mask back into its rightful place. “I’ll— I’ll be okay.”

Gin nods. “Your tears do not make you weak. You are one of the strongest people I have met.”

Through the tears still staining her cheeks, Lucy manages to smile.

Chapter Text

Chuuya is sitting on the ceiling when Kunikida returns to his dorm. Their knees are hugged tightly to their chest, and they’re staring straight ahead, gaze unfocused. Their coat looks more like a blanket with how it’s wrapped around them at the moment.

Kunikida frowns to himself. This isn’t the first time Chuuya has shown up unannounced—if Kunikida truly didn’t want them in here without a warning, he wouldn’t have given them a key. But it is the first time he can recall them stopping by just to mope.

“Chuuya?” He calls out. “Are you alright?”

They blink slowly, then mumble something Kunikida can’t make out.

Kunikida purses his lips. He toes off his shoes, then crosses over to where they’re seated. The dorm ceilings aren’t very high, and Kunikida is rather tall himself, so he’s about at eye-level with Chuuya. When he reaches towards them, they flinch.

His hand freezes in midair.

Chuuya lets out a strained sigh. “Sorry. I’m used to Dazai being the only one who sees me when I’m like this.”

“Ah.” Kunikida nods understandingly. He moves again, and Chuuya leans into the touch. It’s slightly awkward, cradling their cheek while they’re upside down, but Kunikida makes it work. “Do you want to talk about it?”

Chuuya shakes their head. “Not right now.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

Chuuya shrugs.

“Let me know if you think of something, okay?”

Chuuya nods. Then, they lean forward, nearly imperceptibly. But Kunikida catches it, and he understands what they want. He closes the distance between them, slotting his lips against Chuuya’s. It’s a soft, chaste, kiss, but when Kunikida pulls back, Chuuya is smiling, so he figures it did its job.

“Will you sit up here with me for a bit?” Chuuya whispers.

Kunikida has work he needs to finish. He needs to make dinner, so it’ll be ready when Kenji returns from helping the Tanizaki siblings. He should also probably shower tonight.

“Of course,” he agrees anyway.

Chuuya’s grin is more than worth scrapping his schedule for the evening.

Chapter Text

Kenji places his finished flower crown on Naomi’s head, clicking his tongue as he does so. Once it’s in place, he steps back and grins. “It looks very nice on you, Naomi-san. You were right—the red flowers do match the tie on your uniform!”

Naomi giggles. She immediately grabs for her phone, turning on the front-facing camera so she can look at herself. Kenji has been making flower crowns for everyone in the office lately, because it gives him something to do with his hands, and Naomi is thrilled to finally have one of her own.

She’s already decided that once the flowers begin to wilt, she’s going to press them so she can keep the crown forever.

Once she’s finished admiring the crown, she sets her phone down and turns back to Kenji. She leans forward, kissing the top of his head. “Thank you, Kenji-kun. I love it.”

Chapter Text

Tachihara’s face is painted red like the uniform marking his betrayal. The band-aid over his nose is half-peeled off, dangling awkwardly. The white bandages over his eyes are stained with blood.

But he’s still standing. He’s alive. Gin could nearly weep in relief.

They rush over to him, dodging the corpses littering the ground. They sheath their knife without bothering to clean the blade before throwing their arms around Tachihara and dragging him into a tight hug.

“Gin—”

“Don’t,” they interrupt.

Tachihara falls silent.

There are a thousand things Gin could say, but none of them seem quite right and Gin has never been particularly fond of speaking anyway. So they pull back just enough to crash their lips against Tachihara’s. The kiss tastes coppery, and Gin doesn’t know who the blood belongs to, but it doesn’t matter because Tachihara is alive.

They run a hand through his hair, imagining red now streaked through the dyed orange. Their tongue flicks against a cut on Tachihara’s lip, and he whimpers before opening his mouth wider to deepen the kiss.

Chapter Text

Kunikida’s lips are gentle as they trace the lightning scars encircling Chuuya’s arm. He kisses along their wrist while Chuuya’s hand is wrapped in his. Chuuya simply watches, entranced, still unused to being treated with such care. They are accustomed to the dark—to smoke and gunpowder and blood, to touch used only as a weapon.

But Kunikida handles them with care, and as Dazai hugs them from behind, Chuuya is reminded just how far they’ve come.

For so long, they never could have imagined being allowed something soft.

Dazai presses his lips to the freckles on Chuuya’s shoulder, tightening his hold on their torso. He doesn’t say anything, but Chuuya can hear him silently echoing Kunikida’s earlier words: Let us take care of you.

Chuuya is not good at allowing themself vulnerability, but they trust Kunikida and Dazai both. They know that even when they let go of their ability under Dazai’s touch, even when they lower their all of their defenses and find themself hurtling towards a collision, their partners will be there to catch them before they can hit the ground.

Chapter Text

Atsushi has never kissed anyone before. It’s not a secret—in fact, he’d be surprised if anyone believed he had any experience when it comes to romance and dating. So he really doesn’t know what to expect after Akutagawa bluntly tells him, “I’m going to kiss you now.”

He doesn’t pull back or turn him down, though his heart hammers painfully in his chest, anxiety spiking as Akutagawa cups his face in his hands. He looks over Atsushi skeptically, as if perturbed by what he’s about to do even though he was the one who suggested (demanded) it.

Atsushi opens his mouth to tell him to just get on with it already, but Akutagawa dives in more he can do more than let out a surprised squeak.

Their teeth clack together and Atsushi really very clearly has no idea what he’s doing, but he grabs for Akutagawa’s coat in an attempt to prevent him from backing away. Their noses bump as they try to find the right angle, and Akutagawa growls, irritated.

Atsushi thinks, probably, he’s never kissed anyone before either.

But Akutagawa is not one to back down from a challenge, and Atsushi refuses to be the first to pull away. So he pushes down all of the hesitation bubbling up in his stomach and kisses back harder.

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Gin is half-asleep, sprawled on top of Lucy as a movie plays on the TV, when the apartment door opens slowly. Lucy perks up, her fingers stilling where they had been carding through Gin’s hair. She knows she has every right to be here—Gin invited her over, and they said their brother was aware. But she still braces herself for a scolding.

Akutagawa steps into the room, and he immediately levels Lucy with a glare. She stares back, because she isn’t going to let herself be intimidated into submission even though she would like her partner’s brother to at least sort of like her. Just because it would make things easier.

Gin stirs, lifting their head slightly. They don’t say anything, but Akutagawa’s gaze drops to look at them. After a moment, as if in response to something Lucy couldn’t hear, he sighs and says, “Very well. Goodnight.”

Then, he turns and trudges away.

Lucy frowns to herself. But before she can dwell on it for too long, Gin adjusts their position. They cup Lucy’s cheek with one hand, then raise their head to place a gentle kiss to her jaw. “Ignore him,” they mumble. “He’s just jealous.”

Lucy giggles. “He still hasn’t made a move on the tiger kitty yet?”

Gin groans, dropping their head back onto Lucy’s stomach. “At this point, I think I need to start focusing my efforts on getting Atsushi-kun to confess. Ryuu is too emotionally constipated to come anywhere close to a confession.”

Chapter Text

They’re celebrating a mission well done at a mafia-owned bar, because technically neither of them are of legal drinking age, but Gin knows more people who have drank underage than ones who haven’t and laws like that seem trivial when you kill people for a living. Tachihara is on his fourth drink, but he seems to be doing better than Gin is after only two.

Hirotsu and Higuchi both left at some point, leaving Gin alone with Tachihara. Perhaps not the best idea, considering how far they both are from home and the fact that they live in opposite directions, but they can worry about that problem when the time comes.

For now, Gin is glad to sink into the floaty feeling seeping into their bones as a third drink is set in front of them. It’s bright red, reminiscent of blood in the lowlight of the bar, and it’s syrupy sweet at first. The sweetness is followed by a bitter aftertaste, strong alcohol flushing out everything else, and Gin nearly gags on it.

They keep drinking, though.

They stay in the bar with Tachihara until it closes and they’re promptly kicked out. Tachihara shouts a thank you to the bartender over his shoulder as they stumble out into the cool night. The entire world looks as if its been submerged in water, and Gin reaches up towards a streetlight as if it’s a star they could hold in their hands.

Everything looks beautiful like this. Wavy and magical.

Tachihara looks beautiful, too.

It isn’t new information, but Gin’s breath catches in their throat when they look at him. Golden eyes illuminated by earthly starlight, like molten lava Gin wishes they could submerge themself in.

“Gin?” He asks, tilting his head and offering them a goofy smile. “You’re really pretty, you know. You’re like a magnet.”

Gin furrows their eyebrows. “A magnet?”

Tachihara nods, but he doesn’t elaborate. He steps closer, placing his hands on Gin’s shoulders. The warmth of his eyes spills over onto Gin, and they think maybe they know what Tachihara meant by his magnet comment. Gin couldn’t pull away from him right now even if they wanted to. It’s like there’s an invisible force tugging them together.

They reach up to his face, placing a palm against his cheek. His skin is so warm. Gin wants to burrow into him and fall asleep there for a little while.

Instead, they push themself up onto their toes and press their lips to Tachihara’s. His lips part in surprise, so Gin slips their tongue between them. Something in the back of their mind screams at them to run, reminds them that they will regret this in the morning when their thoughts have cleared. But then Tachihara kisses back, wrapping his arms around them and pressing their body flush against his, and every other thought immediately dissipates.

Chapter Text

Ranpo’s back hits the wall with a harsh thud. They hardly have even a moment to grin to themself before Kajii’s lips are on theirs, biting down hard enough to break skin. The sour tang of his lemon-y drink lingers on his tongue, mixing with the coppery blood spilling from Ranpo’s split lip.

Ranpo groans into the kiss, throwing their arms around Kajii’s neck in an attempt to drag him even closer. The bricks of the building they’re pressed up against dig uncomfortably into Ranpo’s back, but the heightened adrenaline does wonders transform the pain into some twisted sort of pleasure. They want more, more, more—

Kajii fits one of his legs between Ranpo’s, then pulls back, a trail of spit still connecting their lips. Ranpo stares at it. Everything is so hot.

“What do you want from this?” Kajii asks, just breathy enough that Ranpo can tell it’s taking every ounce of self-control he has to not dive right back in for another kiss.

“Same thing as you.” Ranpo lets his eyes fall shut. “Now kiss me again before I change my mind.”

Kajii obliges without hesitation.

Chapter Text

Kyouka grimaces as Yosano sets her down in the infirmary bed. She hasn’t said a word since she and Atsushi returned to the Agency office, Kyouka cradled in his arms and clutching a wound in her side. Her eyes were wide and wet when Atsushi passed her over, but no tears have fallen.

Yosano brushes her hair out of her face, tucking it behind her ear. One of her hair ties must have snapped during the fight, because half of her hair is hanging loose. “I’m going to have to look at the injury, okay?”

Kyouka’s reaction is a moment delayed, but she nods and moves her hands aside. Both palms are covered in dark red blood. Yosano winces at the sight. She knows firsthand that such injuries aren’t fun. The easiest solution for this will be to use her ability, but she doesn’t particularly enjoy doing so on Kyouka.

Yosano’s treatments are harsh because it is the only way to ensure her patients do not lose sight of the value of life. Miraculous healing cannot come without consequences, or the price will be one’s own mind.

But Kyouka understands the preciousness of life—both her own and others—in a way many of the others at the Agency do not. And when Yosano meets her gaze, fear shines brightly in her eyes.

Yosano sighs. “Don’t tell the others, but I’m going to give you anesthesia before I treat you. Is that okay?”

Kyouka hesitates, then nods again.

Yosano grabs a towel and presses it over the wound. “Can you hold this in place?”

Kyouka’s hands take the place of Yosano’s, helping to staunch the bleeding. Yosano leans forward and places a soft kiss to the top of Kyouka’s head. “I’ll be back in a moment. Just hold on for a little longer.”

Chapter Text

This is a bad idea.

Chuuya knows this is a bad idea. But their common sense is clouded by alcohol and Ranpo was staring them down with those stupid green eyes, like he was trying to undress them from across the room, and fuck.

Chuuya groans as he bites down on their lip. They have him pinned against the wall, but that hasn’t stopped Ranpo from acting like he still has the upper hand. Like this is exactly what he wanted.

Chuuya knows they’ve played directly into his trap, but it feels too good to stop now.

“You are so goddamn annoying,” they grumble between kisses, voice nothing more than a harsh whisper against Ranpo’s smiling lips. “I hate you.”

“Mhm,” Ranpo hums. “That must be why you want me so bad right now.”

“Shut the hell up.”

“Make me.”

And oh, that is a challenge Chuuya most certainly will not back down from.

Chapter Text

The bathroom mirror is still fogged up from Nathaniel’s shower when Nikolai teleports himself into the bathroom. He waited a respectful thirty seconds after the water shut off, and he did try to open the door, but of course, Nathaniel locked it. As if that would act as a deterrent.

“Hiya, Nathan!” he greets cheerily, only to be met with a yelp and an elbow to the ribs. 

“What on earth are you doing?!” he demands.

Nikolai’s answer comes in the form of him backing Nathaniel against the wall. He has a towel wrapped around his waist. Water droplets fall from his hair and trail down his exposed skin. Nikolai wants to lick them off. Maybe sink his teeth into Nathaniel’s flesh as he does so, mixing water and blood before he devours him whole.

“Nikolai,” Nathaniel growls.

“You are wearing entirely too many clothes,” Nikolai notes. He lowers his head, pressing a kiss to Nathaniel’s neck. Then lower again, until his lips are hovering over Nathaniel’s chest, just above his heart. When he presses them firmly against Nathaniel’s still-damp skin, he can feel the hammering heartbeat beneath.

In a perfect world, Nikolai would tear apart his flesh and feast on the organ hidden within. He would stain himself with Nathaniel’s blood as he gorged on his heart, and then he would lick each of his fingers clean so as to ensure nothing would go to waste.

But as it stands now, Nikolai settles for the kiss. And when he looks up towards Nathaniel’s face, he is pleased to note that it’s flushed blood-red.

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Kajii blinks “You want to— what?”

“Kiss you,” Ranpo repeats. Like that’s a normal thing to ask of someone you just met two hours ago—someone who is supposed to be your enemy, no less. “I’ve never kissed anyone before, and I’m tired of it. Everyone else at the office has had their first kiss. Even the new kid’s sister, who is still in high school! So if you kiss me, then they won’t be able to tease me anymore.”

“Okay,” Kajii says slowly. He supposes that reasoning makes sense, though there’s bound to be a hundred other people Ranpo could get to kiss him.

“Is that a yes?”

Kajii hesitates. But he isn’t exactly known for making good decisions, and impulsivity has been his best friend for as long as he can remember. So he shrugs and says, “Sure, why not?”

He doesn’t exactly have much experience with kissing himself, but Ranpo doesn’t need to know that.

Ranpo cheers, clapping his hands together. He leans forward eagerly, and Kajii gladly meets him halfway.

Chapter Text

Chuuya catapults themself into the pool, jumping off of the diving board and into the cool water below. They swim across the pool, only breaking the surface once they reach where Kunikida is standing along the wall.

“Hey, pretty boy,” Chuuya grins. Kunikida purses his lips like he’s trying to suppress a smile, and Chuuya trails a finger down his chest. “You should come swim instead of just standing around being boring.”

“I’d rather not.”

Chuuya pouts. They reach up, wrapping their arms around Kunikida’s neck. “Please?”

Kunikida hesitates. “My glasses—”

Chuuya plucks them off of his face, then uses their ability to float them safely over to the rest of his stuff. Kunikida furrows his eyebrows, or maybe he’s just squinting because he can’t see much now. It’s hard to tell sometimes.

“Well?” Chuuya prompts.

“Fine. But only for a bit.”

That’s all the encouragement Chuuya needs. They tug Kunikida away from the wall and tell him, “Hold your breath.”

His eyes widen, but he doesn’t get a chance to argue before Chuuya pulls him beneath the surface. They cup his face with both hands, then press their lips against his. For a moment, it feels as if they’re flying, assisted by Chuuya’s ability.

Chuuya thinks they would be perfectly content to live in this moment forever.

Chapter Text

Ranpo whines as Dazai starts to pull away from them, grabbing blindly in an attempt to make him stay. Dazai huffs out a laugh.

“Go back to sleep,” he says. “I’m just going to the bathroom.” It’s not the full truth, exactly—Dazai has been lying awake for the past hour and a half, and if he’s left alone with his thoughts for any longer, he’s going to smash his skull against the wall. So he’ll go to the bathroom and then pace around the dorm for a bit and hope that tires him out.

“Nooo,” Ranpo mumbles. “You’re so warm. Don’t leave.”

“I’ll be back in a bit,” Dazai lies. He feels a bit bad, but he knows Ranpo will be passed out again in five minutes. Still, he leans back in and placates him with a kiss.

Ranpo sighs contentedly, loosening their grip on Dazai’s shirt and allowing him to slip away. They snuggle back beneath the blankets, and Dazai presses one last kiss to the side of their head. He allows his lips to linger just a moment too long.

When he pulls back, Ranpo is smiling.

Chapter Text

“Nathaniel— Oh.” Nikolai’s breath catches in his throat as Nathaniel’s lips brush against his skin, just above his eyebrow, where the scar crossing his eye begins. The touch is far too gentle, far too soft for whatever it is that exists between them. It’s revolting.

Nikolai might shatter beneath it.

Nathaniel says nothing as his lips drop lower. He kisses his way along the entire length of the scar, cradling Nikolai’s face in his hands. Something harsh and painful and sharp presses against Nikolai’s chest. It splinters his ribcage and digs itself into his heart. It’s horrible and Nikolai wants to drown in it.

When Nathaniel finally finally finally pulls away, his expression is unreadable. Nikolai wants to crack him open, wants to push them back into familiar territory where he is an annoyance and Nathaniel hates so much as looking at him. But his lips stay firmly shut. His voice won’t work.

Nikolai wants to die, just a little.

He’s trapped, pinned in place by Nathaniel’s stare.

For the first time, he understands why Nathaniel only ever looks at him with contempt in his eyes. This disgusting thing that has grown between them has dug its roots too far into Nikolai’s soul. He needs to rip it out. He needs to burn it. He needs Nathaniel gone.

Instead, he tugs him into a searing kiss.