Chapter Text
Fukuzawa had started to encourage his middle sons to think about what they wanted to do for a career. Really, it was an innocent question, yet it sent both Dazai and Kunikida spiraling (albeit for different lengths of time).
Dazai dragged feet instead of trying to find an answer. He really didn’t want life to change. It was stable and safe. Starting out into the job market would be anything but that at first. It made Dazai shudder.
It was about a month after Fukuzawa first posed the question. Dazai and Kunikida were in the living room finishing homework together; or more accurately, Kunikida was finishing his homework and Dazai was turning his into paper airplanes. Final exams for school were almost over and Dazai wasn't about to put an effort into useless homework and papers.
“What are you going to do?” Dazai aimlessly threw his newest paper airplane into the air.
It did did a lazy loop before landing somewhere out of view in the hallway.
“Do?” Kunikida echoed, looking up from his economics essay.
“Yeah. About what Dad said, you know, find jobs and all that crap,” Dazai huffed.
Really. Kunikida was so dense. What else would he be talking about?
“I’m going to be a teacher,” Kunikida shrugged.
Dazai had to look at his brother to verify that he had heard correctly.
“You? A teacher?” Dazai scoffed.
“Yes. Do you have a problem with that?” Kunikida glared at his brother.
Dazai squinted at Kunikida before shaking his head.
“Nope. I can’t picture it at all. You’re going to be an awful fit,” Dazai decided.
“Yeah. Well, I don’t have to listen to you and Ranpo. What are you going to do? Mock me?” Kunikida scoffed, “Being a teacher is the perfect fit for me. It ensures that the next generation is firm in their ideals.”
“Have fun,” Dazai snorted, “It’s going to be a hell of a job.”
“I will have fun!” Kunikida snapped.
“Sure. Sure. Whatever you need to tell yourself,” Dazai scoffed.
“I at least have an idea. You don’t,” Kunikida growled, tossing a textbook at Dazai.
Dazai easily dodge.
“I do too!” he sniffed.
“I don’t believe you at all,” Kunikida snorted.
“I do!” Dazai growled.
“Alright, then what is it?” Kunikida asked.
“I’m going to stay here and nothing is going to change,” Dazai sniffed.
“So, the real answer is that you’ve given it no thought,” Kunikida arched an imperious eyebrow.
Dazai glared at the blond. He had given it plenty of thought. Sort of. He just knew that he didn't want anything to change.
“Go squander bandages somewhere else please. I can’t think if you’re just going to sit there and pout,” Kunikida shooed.
Dazai grumbled, but left his brother in peace. He was in a mood for the rest of the week, not even final exams being over lifted him out of his self-imposed grouch. Everyone else seemed to notice it, even those not in his household.
Tonight, Dazai was hiding out at Oda's house. He had escaped here because Fukuzawa once again had started asking him if he had given any thought to what he wanted to do now. The questions made Dazai's skin crawl. He wanted to scream at Fukuzawa and tell the older man that he didn't want to leave his family behind, but the words never really made out of his throat.
Oda thankfully hadn't turned him away when he showed up soaking wet from the pouring rain in the middle of dinner. The older man had simply shooed Dazai to the shower and given him some dry clothes (they were too big, but Dazai didn't mind) and a warm dinner.
That had been two hours ago. Now, the house was quiet. Oda's kids were in bed. Dazai was laying tiredly on the floor while Oda finished putting away the dishes.
Dazai's phone buzzed in his pocket. It was Fukuzawa. Dazai wished he could just sent the call to voicemail, but he knew that would likely cause Fukuzawa to panic. He picked up with great reluctance.
“Are you alright?” Fukuzawa asked as soon as Dazai picked up, “You didn't come home for dinner.”
“I'm fine. I'm at Oda's house,” Dazai grumbled in irritation, “And I'm almost nineteen now. I'm not a kid with a curfew so stop checking up on me.”
Then he hung up on Fukuzawa without warning. Dazai let an arm flop over his face. He hadn't meant to be so sharp with his dad over the phone, it just sort of come out. It confused him. Up until a few months ago, Dazai would never been so short with Fukuzawa. What had changed?
The creaking floorboards indicated that Oda was entering the room. Dazai lifted the arm from his face. Sure enough, the older man was standing over him, concern written on his face.
“What is wrong, Dazai?” Oda asked as he settled on the floor next to Dazai, “I'm fine with you just showing up at my house uninvited, but you seem really down and that worries me. Is everything ok?”
Dazai knew this was Oda's way of asking if he was trying not to take his own life. The silence hung for a few minutes as Oda waited for an answer.
“Hey, Odasaku, how did you know what you wanted to do for a job?” Dazai abruptly asked.
Oda looked confused by Dazai’s seemingly out of the blue question.
“What do you mean?” he frowned slightly.
“How did you figure it out?” Dazai pressed.
“I don’t follow. How did I figure what out?” Oda furrowed his brow.
“How did you know that you were good at killing people? Was it something you always enjoyed? And why did you agree to the career switch?” Dazai shot the questions off rapid fire.
Oda shifted uncomfortably.
“What is this about Dazai?” he sighed.
Dazai crossed his arms. This was so unfair. Why didn’t Oda ever want to talk about his days as an assassin?
“Dad wants Kunikida and I to think about what we want to do in the future. I don't want to do anything,” Dazai grumbled.
“And why not?” Oda hummed.
“I don’t want things to change. I don’t want to lose everyone. If I start working, the next thing I know, Dad will kick me out and I will never have time to see my family or you again and my whole will fall apart and I will be alone,” Dazai found himself answer.
He quickly clamped a hand over his mouth.
Shit. This is why he needed to be careful around Oda at times. The man had a way of getting Dazai to truthfully answer questions without even trying.
“I highly doubt that would happen,” Oda pointed out.
“Well, I’m not going to take a chance. I’m going to stay a kid forever,” Dazai snapped.
Oda watched Dazai for a few more minutes.
“What if you became a detective? You’re not half bad at it and you already know your way around the office,” Oda suggested.
This was true. Dazai was very good at connecting abstract ideas and he had been an intern over the last summer (simply for job experience, of course). That being said, Dazai wasn’t ready to let Oda win just yet.
“Ew. That’s what Ranpo does,” Dazai whined.
It was more for show than anything. He loved his eldest brother dearly.
“You do realize that this is where I work as well,” Oda pointed out.
Dazai crossed his arms over his chest.
“Tell you what, what if you run point on a few cases. You can see if actually working the job is what you want to do,” Oda suggested.
Dazai wrinkled his nose as he thought about it.
“Fine. But don’t tell Dad or Ranpo. I still don’t want to get a job and if I don't have a job they can't make me leave home,” he huffed.
“My lips are sealed,” Oda snorted softly.