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This feeling in my bones

Summary:

“All part of the plan.” Dazai echoes hollowly. He barks out a strange laugh, a “hah” that doesn't sound happy at all, and then - Kunikida flinches at the sound of glass shattering on the floor.

Notes:

This was meant to be for Kunikida's birthday, but once again I am late because real life never lets me stick to schedule (Kunikida would be disappointed, I know).

This fic was entirely inspired by this post on tumblr! I read it and it broke me, so now we have a fic. :'D

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

Dying and being brought back to life was weird, but Kunikida wouldn't describe it as unpleasant. Sure, getting stabbed through the gut hurt like a bitch, but it was thankfully over quickly. One moment of excruciating pain, bloody hands wrapped around the blade of Amenogozen's sword as he screams at Tanizaki to run - then in the next moment he's back on the same ground he died on, confused and missing the sword wound that had torn through him just a second ago. And Atsushi is suddenly tackling him to the ground, sobbing loudly into his shoulder.

It takes a long time to get the full story out of the boy - between Atsushi's blubbering sobs and alternating hugs from Kenji, Tanizaki, even Ranpo, he finally pieces together enough to understand: it's been days since he was killed by Amenogozen, and it's only after Dazai’s arrival that they managed to collectively defeat the godlike entity and bring the ones it killed back to life. Something which they couldn't have accomplished without the help of Nakahara Chuuya, Kunikida guesses, spotting the Port Mafia Executive's bloody and unconscious form on the ground nearby, watched over by Akutagawa. And, when everyone has finally calmed down somewhat, Kunikida looks past them to see - 

- Dazai, standing a distance away still in the Mersault uniform, holding a very familiar book in his hands. Kunikida gently pushes Atsushi off him and stands, brushing days (minutes?) of dust off him as he approaches his partner. Dazai holds the Ideal out to him, smiling gently in a way that makes Kunikida feel it was meant only for him to see.

Taking the Ideal into his hands settles something in his psyche; a physical assurance that his ideals continue to live on - have lived on, seeing his friends alive in front of him. He smiles back at his partner, fond and warm and relieved; it still hasn't fully sunk in that it's finally over. That against all odds, they actually made it out on the other side.

Dazai's fingers are warm where they're resting against his, both of them still holding onto the notebook. One not willing to let go; the other not willing to pull away. A thought rises, unbidden, in Kunikida's mind: I should record the date I died in the notebook. Would it be morbid if I commemorated it every year?

It's a notion so ridiculous that it makes him want to giggle hysterically. Not because he was thinking of his own death, but because of the fact that he almost never does so. Kunikida's never been afraid of dying; he runs into danger headfirst, knowing that if he dies, it would be by his choice alone. He refuses to let anyone else be the controller of his fate. It's exactly this recklessness that worries his colleagues, something Yosano has scolded him for many, many times. As much as he tells the other Agency members to value their own lives above all else, Kunikida has never actually taken his own advice. He can't help being who he is.

It's the exact opposite of Dazai, who spends every minute thinking - and planning - his own death. Dazai, who has come close to it a few times but never succeeded, whereas Kunikida who's hardly ever thought about it in fact has; would his partner congratulate him? Tell him off for having achieved Dazai’s goal before Dazai himself did? 

Dazai's expression right now looks a lot closer to distraught. Ah, maybe he was going to get told off by an envious Dazai after all. “Kunikida-kun, I -” his partner starts.

Kunikida stops him. “Thank you, Dazai.”

“What for?”

“For saving my life, of course.” For helping Kunikida keep his ideals alive even after he was gone. “I should have known you had a plan in place. You already knew that Amenogozen would regurgitate all the people he'd absorbed once he was defeated, didn't you?” 

“...Right.” Dazai's fingers fall away from the Ideal then, leaving Kunikida feeling bereft. 

Dazai spins on his heel abruptly. “I should make sure Chuuya hasn't died yet. Since the Agency owes him one, now.” He walks away quickly after that.

Kunikida stares after him, wondering what was off about their exchange. True, he hasn't seen Dazai in months, and he's literally died and just been brought back to life, but surely things couldn't have changed so much from then?

 


 

Now that everything is over, they're finally allowed home. The Agency dorms were still standing, and while it's not the cleanest after months of disuse, the familiar room has Kunikida exhaling a loud sigh of relief upon seeing it.

Strangely enough, Dazai has followed him home even though he lives just a few floors below him - but Dazai seems to be in a weird kind of headspace and Kunikida was worried, so he lets Dazai in without a word. They've all had a rough few months - Dazai especially, having been trapped in Mersault for so long - so Kunikida can understand if it was finally starting to take a toll on him. Dazai has a weird way of asking for companionship: that is, he doesn't ask at all. Kunikida is used to figuring it out from the slightest expression his partner displays. The fact that he knows Dazai like he knows breathing doesn't come as much of a surprise to him as it used to.

So Dazai's silence is frustrating, because Kunikida can't figure out exactly what it is that's bothering his partner. Nakahara Chuuya's presence affects Dazai to some degree, he knows, but Dazai had been more than happy to send the unconscious Port Mafia member away with Akutagawa the last time he saw them together.

Kunikida doesn't like leaving things unresolved. Dazai hasn’t spoken, but he hasn't left Kunikida's side either; in fact, he's been following behind Kunikida like an obedient puppy, quietly making himself useful by doing things like putting their shoes away and cleaning dust off the nearest items. It's all very considerate and thoughtful - which makes Kunikida worry even further. But when it comes to Dazai, sometimes there's really no other choice but to ask.

Kunikida takes a deep breath, and it burns in his lungs. It's been days since he was revived, but he's still hyper-aware of everything he sees and feels and touches, still unused to the feeling of just being alive. If dying is what places everything into such clarity, he might understand Dazai's obsession with it just a little bit more.

He takes the chance to ask while he's kneeling on the living room floor, shaking out two futons. Dazai is right in front of him, brushing dust off a small vase, a distracted look in his eyes.

“Dazai, are you alright? You're unusually quiet.” Kunikida says.

Dazai freezes for a telling moment before he answers. “I'm fine.” He says, blinking owlishly at Kunikida. “I'm - I'm just tired, I guess?”

Dubious, Kunikida sits cross-legged on the floor in front of the futons, looking up at his partner. Dazai resumes cleaning the vase, but he's rubbing at it a little too hard, not really focusing the task, brows pinched together slightly like he was concerned about something. His eyes flicker to Kunikida occasionally then back to the vase, like he couldn't quite stop himself from glancing at him.

Kunikida frowns. Dazai's actions were just getting stranger and stranger.

“I thought you'd usually be more smug than this.” Kunikida tries again. “Being a step ahead of everyone else, predicting what was going to happen before it did… Everything went according to plan, didn't it?”

At this, Dazai's motions stop completely; his partner stands rooted to the spot, gaze growing weirdly distant. The only sign that he was still breathing was the weak, stuttering inhale he took  

“...Dazai?”

“All part of the plan.” Dazai echoes hollowly. He barks out a strange laugh, a “hah” that doesn't sound happy at all, and then - Kunikida flinches at the sound of glass shattering on the floor.

The vase is in pieces at Dazai's feet, but his partner doesn't even seem to notice, socked feet crunching over the glass as he steps towards Kunikida in slow, stumbling movements.

“What the hell are you - don't move!” Kunikida scrambles quickly over the futons, reaching Dazai just as he drops to his knees in front of him, the brunette's head knocking painfully into his chest. Kunikida grabs him by the shoulders, looking over them to confirm that Dazai's feet were indeed bleeding from the glass shards embedded in them. “Shit, stay here, I'm going to get -” He's about to rise from his current position when Dazai stops him with a tight, shaking grip on his sleeve.

“Don't leave.” Dazai says roughly. “You're not allowed out of my sight for a single minute. Not yet. …I can't lose you another time, Kunikida-kun.”

Looking down at his partner's bowed head, the final piece of the puzzle slides into place - what he's been missing all along in Dazai's reactions to him. Kunikida’s so used to trusting in Dazai's harebrained, often incomprehensible schemes that he had never considered the possibility that - 

“You… Didn't.” Kunikida realises. “You didn't have a plan.”

“What plan? ” Dazai's head snaps up to look at him, harsh breathing matching the wild look in his eyes. “I was in Mersault the entire time, I had no clue what was happening out there! Then I got there just to find Atsushi alone, Tanizaki about to recklessly run into his demise, and you - you were -” Dazai's voice cracks, and he draws in a deep, shaky breath that rattles his entire frame.

“I didn't know what would happen if I killed Amenogozen. All I knew is that you were dead, and I wanted him to pay,” Dazai spits. His lips curl into a snarl. “I almost didn't bother stopping Chuuya from going on a rampage, because I wanted to see it in pieces. Just killing it was too simple, I wanted to see it crushed, I wanted to see its body in smithereens at my feet -”

Dazai's breathing was getting quicker and quicker as he spoke. Worried he was on the verge of a panic attack, Kunikida quickly places his hands on either side of Dazai's face, stopping the rush of words.

“Breathe,” he orders sharply.

It’s as effective as tying a cord around Dazai's throat. He stops talking immediately, looking up at Kunikida with shiny-wet eyes, mouth agape.

Kunikida takes one of Dazai's hands and brings it to his chest, feeling his heart beat strongly against Dazai's palm. The feeling is more alien for him than it is for Dazai, he's pretty sure. But Dazai looks overwhelmed anyway, fingers flexing unconsciously where they're pressed to Kunikida's chest.

“I'm alive.” Kunikida reminds him gently. And isn't that the irony of it all, assuring another person of something he still can't quite believe just yet? He squeezes Dazai's hand gently. “I'm alive, and I'm still breathing. See?”

Dazai clutches at his wrist like it's a lifeline. “You're not allowed to break, Kunikida-kun. You just can't.” He whispers.

“I'm alive.” Kunikida repeats. Sure, he’ll probably have recurring nightmares about his dead-but-not-quite experience, and he really needs to get those glass shards out of Dazai’s feet; but for now, at least, he thinks -

 

We'll be okay.

 

Notes:

It was absolutely foul of Asagiri to kill Kunikida off on his birthday month, goddamn 😔 so I thought it was fitting if I wrote him and everyone else alive for his birthday this year 🥲