Work Text:
"Uncertainty":
adj. not known beyond doubt ; not constant.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The clock's numbers flashed, bright and red, each flash sending a sharp shiver through his body. A cold, eerie numbness flowed through him, moving from his core, down to each limb; his fingertips grew cold, the slight trembling of his hands the only indicator of his consciousness.
8:15am. I overslept.
His right eye twitched, his mouth slightly agape. This was an unusual circumstance for Kunikida, his punctuality setting him apart from others, never failing to put him ahead of the curve. Until this morning, it seemed.
The increasing pounding of his heartbeat audibly reached his ears, as his breath began to become more shallow. He felt his body reeling, his mind and motor skills struggling to find harmony. He needed to get up as soon as possible, he needed to move.
Nearly leaping from his futon, his upper body launched itself towards the alarm clock, his right hand outstretched and grasping for the 'off' button, floundering around until the annoying blare ceased. As he maintained his balance with his left hand, leaning towards the clock, however, he had made a painful mistake. Even though the noise had stopped, his outstretched body had not done the same, as the futon underneath him began to slip. As his hand lost its grip of the bedding underneath him, his body came crashing to the ground.
"God damn it..." He muttered, pushing himself off the floor.
He kicked the blankets off of his body, stumbling toward the bathroom. His mind, in a frenzy, attempted to get dressed as quickly as possible, though he also tried to keep track of his morning routine checklist as well. Routines were a consistent part of Kunikida's life; all logged in his little book, his routines were his life line, his guide book to existence.
In a moment's time, he had managed to clothe himself in his cream two piece vest suit, the collar of his black button up shirt flared upwards around his neck. He haphazardly brushed through his golden blonde hair, his toothbrush clasped between his lips. Multitasking was never his strong suit, and his rigid morning routine had made it so that multitasking was never a requirement; though, this morning, his routine had come crashing down around him.
What is going on with me? How could this happen?
He let out a shaky breath as he stumbled around his apartment, grabbing his watch and glasses off of his desk, lastly placing his notebook in the pocket of his vest. With that, he put on his shoes, glancing down at his watch.
8:45am. I can make it, if I run.
~
Kunikida's breath hitched in his throat, his pant legs wet from the splashing of his feet in the puddles. It was a rainy morning, a dreary one at that; the soft and cool droplets fell from the sky. In his frenzy, he had only realized it was raining when he had made it a block away from his apartment, leaving his hair and clothes cold and wet.
He stood outside the Armed Detective Agency, deeply inhaling as he caught his breath. His body was in quite good shape, though at the speed at which he ran, his body was unused to that kind of abrupt movement. He gazed down at his watch.
8:59am. I made it with a minute to spare.
He sighed softly, placing his hand on the doorknob, before pushing himself into the office. As he entered, the curious eyes of a white haired teenage boy came up to gaze at him.
"Kunikida-san?" He spoke softly, lifting himself from his seat. "You're all wet."
Kunikida's eyes came up to meet his, then back down to look at clothes, his feet sloshing as he stepped inside. He stopped, his shoulders sinking slightly.
"I am. I forgot my umbrella in my apartment." He explained, his voice distant. "It's okay, though. I have an extra pair of shoes in my desk drawer."
Atsushi's eyes continued to wander around his form, Kunikida's eyebrow raising as the boy gave him an odd look.
As they spoke, Ranpo, who sat with his back to them, gazing out the window with a soda in his hand, turned around inquisitively.
He scoffed, an amused smile on his face. "Gee, Kunikida. You look rough."
"Your shirt collar is up and you forgot to tuck your shirt in." Atsushi continued, a concerned look on his face.
Kunikida looked down at his clothes, his eyes widening at his carelessness. He indeed forgot to do all of those things; he looked very sloppy. He quickly pushed his shirt into his pants, flipping down the collar of his shirt, the irritation growing more intense. He was frustrated with himself, with this morning, with his routine.
I don't understand what's happening today. Why can't my day go as planned? Why is everything messed up?
His teeth began to grit while he walked towards the restroom to gather himself. Atsushi lowered his body back down to his seat, his eyes still watching over his superior. Ranpo chuckled again, swiftly turning back to gaze out the window, bringing the bottle of soda back to his lips.
As he pushed open the door of the bathroom, standing in front of the mirror, the frustration in his body came to its limit. His hands trembled harshly, his breath coming out in short gasps. His hand raked through his hair, gripping the strands tightly. There was something wrong with him, he knew it. He had never had this issue, he had never been unpunctual, he had never strayed from his schedule.
His hand slid down his face, his shoulders slouching as he shook his head. His hands grazed down his torso, tucking in his shirt and smoothing down his vest; he heard a crumple in his pocket, causing his eyes to fall downcast.
With furrowed eyebrows, he gently pulled out a wrinkled piece of paper, smoothing it out between his fingers. He bit his lip softly, his heartbeat slowly increasing as he recalled the events surrounding the little slip of paper.
This is the problem, isn't it? This little thing is what caused this big mess?
She was a simple looking woman, her short brown hair curled outwards at the ends, clothed in a modest a-line dress. At first glance, she didn't arouse an interest, her simple look leaving many without an impression. However, it wasn't how she looked that caught Kunikida's eye; it was her smile.
Her smile was soft, a delicate expression that reached up to her eyes, her cheeks scrunching slightly. She had an innocent, natural appearance, but one that disarmed Kunikida entirely. He was completely taken by her, upon seeing her smile.
She was a barista at a nearby coffee shop, a small and quaint establishment. Coming into work a bit early one day, Kunikida crossed paths with the woman, while ordering a black coffee; her amusement at his order began their first conversation.
After a month of frequenting the coffee shop, due to his increasing fondness for her, Kunikida had come to be known as a regular. It was during this time that he had come to realize his feelings for her, more subconsciously than anything else.
His thoughts swarmed his mind, as he stood in the bathroom, his body growing cold, due to his wet clothes. He would ask Yosano to borrow her hair dryer, in order to dry himself.
Sighing and pushing his glasses on top of his head, Kunikida rubbed his eyes gently, his body moving to slouch against the door, the paper still in hand; she had placed it under his coffee cup a few days prior. It read:
[Don't overwork yourself today!]
He was beyond frustrated.
My life plan has no schedule for courting until three years from now, where I'll meet my future wife and marry her after two years of courtship. Even if I approached her... even if I wanted to... it would throw my schedule off completely.
His inner turmoil both frustrated and confused him. Of course, at the age of twenty-two, he had found many women to be physically attractive, intellectually attractive even. But he had never felt as strongly about another person as he did for her. If someone had told him he had been captured in a love spell, he would believe them; it would be easier to believe that, than to believe that he had truly fallen for someone.
This woman had managed to uproot his routine, his consistency. In fact, the reason he had overslept this morning was due to his inability to sleep the night prior; this was in large part caused by his tossing and turning, as the image of her burned its way into his mind.
He let out an irritated sigh, grabbing the doorknob and standing up straight, before walking out of the bathroom, closing the door behind him.
~
Paperwork flooded his desk, the sea of white sheets cluttering his entire space. His expression was dull, his eyes growing weary. While his outside appearance betrayed his desire to remain unnoticed, his inside thoughts fought to maintain normalcy.
Unbeknownst to many in the agency, Kunikida was a very intense hopeless romantic, one who enjoyed reading romance novels, watching romance movies, and of course, writing his own romance poetry. It was a side of himself that he didn't allow to be shared with anyone else, harboring his bleeding heart to himself. This made his current situation even more irritating.
As he fought to keep the images of the barista out of his mind, he betrayed himself by envisioning the possibilities of romance with her. Candle lit dinners, sunset walks on the pier, even planned vacations together made his heart tremble with the lovesick disease. He was a goner.
A sharp pain had suddenly shot through his forehead, the sting burning against his skin, followed by the sound of a soft clink on his desk. His eyes darted around, catching sight of the pencil cap that sat in front of him. Eyes shooting up to the culprit, a disgusted expression found its way on his face.
"Dazai, please. I don't want to have to babysit you right now." He grumbled, rubbing his forehead softly.
Dazai's lean form sat, hunched over his desk, a rubber band in hand, acting as a launch pad for the pen cap. His dark eyes gazed up at Kunikida over his desk, a mischievous expression on his face.
The corners of his lips grew into a cheshire smile. "Why so uptight today, Kunikida? Something bothering you?"
Kunikida rolled his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. The partnered duo went through the same routine every day, the annoying action actually bringing a warm feeling over Kunikida. He never would have imagined that he would be grateful for Dazai's 'pain in the ass' personality.
As Kunikida sighed softly, shaking his head in annoyance, his eyes suddenly opened, his head lifting up in remembrance.
"...Have you seen my glasses?" He said softly.
A snicker pushed past Dazai's lips, his shoulders shrugging, as he feigned ignorance.
"I haven't the slightest idea."
Atsushi, who had been keeping an eye on Kunikida the entire morning, had sighed in defeat, his head falling back against his chair. He had become exasperated at Kunikida's inconsistency, knowing that there had to be something bothering the older man, in order for him to be so far gone.
"...They're on your head, Kunikida-san..."
Kunikida's eyes caught Atsushi's, a sheepish expression on his face as he chuckled softly, remembering that he had placed them on his head while he was in the bathroom.
"...Right...I knew that."
His hands quickly grasped the top of his head, his fingers catching hold of his glasses, clumsily, placing them back on his face.
Atsushi rested his chin in his hand, still maintaining his fixation on Kunikida.
"Are you sure you're okay? You've been acting strange all day. More strange than normal..."
Kunikida cleared his throat. "I-I'm fine. Just a little under the weather today, is all."
He wasn't fine at all, not in the slightest, and he knew that. Atsushi knew that, and he was sure that all of his other co-workers knew that as well. However, Kunikida was never one to talk about his feelings; he would rather keep his deepest secrets to himself.
"Clearly you're not." Dazai said suddenly, his feet propped up on his desk. "You're completely disorganized, and that's not normal for you."
Kunikida opened his mouth to protest, not finding the words to fight the allegation. Truthfully, there weren't any.
"If you have something that's bothering you, we can talk about it. We're all friends here." Dazai teased.
His eyes lingered on Kunikida, momentarily showing a hint of concern, but quickly masking it with his normal lightheartedness. Kunikida did not know, but Dazai was well aware of his situation, noting his change in behavior in the last month. He had spent many days following his partner into work, noticing his consistent trips to the coffee shop nearby, seeing his interactions with the brunette barista. He knew of the thoughts that were bothering him.
Kunikida waved his hand, softly brushing Dazai off, Atsushi looking between the two with weary eyes. He caught the change in Dazai's eyes, his body freezing as he saw the man's concern. He managed to tip off the bells in Dazai's head, a sure sign that he had been found out.
He knows there's something wrong, but he can't possibly know the specifics...
"Don't mind me. We have work to do, so let's focus on that instead." He mumbled back.
He couldn't possibly talk about problems like these with his co-workers, especially not Dazai. He would surely make fun of him, as usual, and never let him live it down. It was his problem, alone, to bear.
"Speaking of work, we should head out soon. This mission won't complete itself."
Kunikida stood up, clearing his desk of the scattered papers, and placing them into neat piles in his desk drawer. Sitting in the office, he couldn't take his mind off of his inner turmoil, leading to a lack of production. Perhaps, getting some fresh air would clear his mind or so he hoped.
He pushed in his chair, beginning to make his way to the door, Dazai reluctantly standing, grabbing his trench coat to follow him.
"Forgetting something?" He chuckled.
Looking back, Kunikida's shoulders dropped instantly, the palm of his hand coming to meet his face. He wouldn't be able to lie to them, clearly, due to his clear absentmindedness.
His notebook sat alone on his desk.
~
The car ride was short, the two completely silent as they drove, absent the occasional words from Dazai, directing Kunikida to their destination and the patter of raindrops on the windshield. This was another unusual occurrence, as Dazai was never quiet; he always managed to make some kind of noise, whether that be through talking or through tapping his fingers against something. But, uncharacteristically, he was entirely silent now, his hand propping up his chin, while he gazed out the window.
Kunikida was, again, lost in his own thoughts as he drove, turning the steering wheel, pressing on the gas, and stopping at each red light in an almost ritualistic manner, his brain not necessarily processing his actions.
"You can park here." Dazai mumbled softly, taking off his seatbelt as the car came to a halt.
Kunikida parallel parked by a curb, turning off the car, a perplexed expression on his face.
"Are you sure this is the right place? I thought we were going to a bank?"
Dazai hummed softly, leaning the seat back to make himself more comfortable.
"Oh yeah, about that..." He yawned. "Plans changed, so we're meeting with the client tomorrow, actually."
Kunikida turned to look at Dazai, his head tilting to the side.
"What do you mean?" He said slowly.
As he gazed at their surroundings, trying to figure out where Dazai had taken them, he noticed the coffee shop just down the street. He had been so lost in his own thoughts that he hadn't realized where Dazai was directing him.
Why did he bring us here? He can't possibly know, right? It's a coincidence.
"I mean," Dazai started, "that I'm going to call the client to set up a meeting for tomorrow, while you go inside that coffee shop and handle your little problem."
Kunikida's eyes widened, his mouth opening to speak, but no words coming out. His mind was a jumbled mess.
So he does know...
"I- how do you know about...that?"
Dazai laughed, pulling his cell phone out of his coat pocket. He shook his head in mock teasing.
"You wound me, Doppo-kun." He cooed. "You expect me to not know everything about my dear partner?"
Kunikida looked ill, his face pale and his eyes wide, leaning away from Dazai, as if bracing himself.
"I knew you were quite enthralled with the pretty barista, for some time now." Dazai's eyes came to look at Kunikida. "You're quite bothered by it, it seems, since you can't get any work done."
Body tensing, Kunikida's eyes fell downcast, not able to hold eye contact with Dazai. He felt embarrassed. Not only had his feelings for the woman been exposed, but his inability to maintain his composure had been noticed so easily.
"...I'm a loser, aren't I?" He mumbled in defeat, his body slouching.
Dazai chuckled softly, grabbing Kunikida by the shoulders and shaking him with each laugh.
"Of course you are, but you're the ADA's lovable loser."
His laughter softly faded, the only remnant, a soft smile.
"I told you, we're all friends here. If you have something bothering you, we can talk about it."
Kunikida brought his eyes up to Dazai, a shocked expression on his face. He was normally never serious, unless a mission desperately called for it; even so, he was consistently laughing with a gun pointed at his face. But now, he seemed sincere. Did he really care?
"You like her a lot, I can tell...and you're not going to be able to focus until you get it off your chest." He spoke softly.
"I-I know.. but." Kunikida started. "What do I even say? This wasn't in my life plan."
Dazai chuckled again, shaking his head. He gently pushed Kunikida's shoulder, bringing his hands behind his head.
"Honestly, I don't know what you'd say. I haven't exactly been in this position. But I do know that having a life plan as intricate as yours is gonna hold you back. Don't get trapped in your ideals. It'll be a prison, eventually."
He closed his eyes, sighing softly, sitting back in his seat. Kunikida's body softened, no longer tense, as he listened to his partner. Deep down, somewhere he knew that Dazai was right. But his ideals were strong, they were his, and they made it so that uncertainty could never paralyze him.
That's what it was...uncertainty.
That's what he had been afraid of this entire time, in every aspect of his life. But now, as he sat in the car, after an entire day of not being himself and sitting in his extreme discomfort, he had finally realized.
Without a word, Kunikida sighed and opened the car door, stepping out into the rain. His body seemed to move without his mind telling it to, Dazai's words moving him along. He was now a man on a mission.
His feet sloshed as he stepped in puddles, his hands buried deep in his pockets as he scanned his mind for what to say. How would he even approach her with this? Better yet, what would she say?
He gazed up at the buildings as he got farther and farther from the car, noting a flower shop that stood across the street from the coffee shop. He softly inhaled as he stepped inside, gazing around, while being greeted by the attendants. Nervously, he brought one hand out of his pocket to rub his arm, his feet moving around the shop slowly.
What should I pick?
Eyes scanning the assortments, he felt his cheeks grow warm. He had never shopped for a woman before, never had the thought to do so. But now, he was moments away from bearing his heart to one. It made his heart feel as though it were going to explode.
His eyes landed on a simple, small assortment of red roses. It was a very cliche gesture, but one that was timeless and widely recognized. She would have no question about his feelings, by simply gazing at this assortment, he concluded. After paying for the roses, he soon found his body in front of the coffee shop.
His body shielded the flowers from the rain, as he stood, almost completely drenched from his lack of an umbrella. He chuckled to himself, a sudden amusement taking over him.
If only I didn't forget it earlier.
He took a deep breath, pushing open the door and stepping inside. The bell jingled softly, his eyes softly coming up to look around the establishment. There weren't many people there, around this time, but even in the small number of individuals, he didn't see her.
"Kunikida-san!" He heard a soft voice call.
As his ears were filled with her delicate voice, his body tensed, his hand clutching the roses tighter in his grip. He felt his breath hitch in his throat, his heartbeat increasing drastically, echoing in his eardrums. He gulped softly, turning in the direction of her voice.
Just as every other occasion, she dressed in her simple and modest attire; her bright, disarming smile rested on her face, her bright eyes looking up at him. Her hands were gently clasped behind her back, her eyes trained on his tall figure.
"You're soaking wet!" She giggled, her eyebrows furrowing at his disposition.
He looked down at himself, now the second time his disheveled appearance had been noticed today. He anxiously chuckled softly, averting his eyes from her.
"Oh, yeah. It's a little wet outside, right now."
She hummed, looking down at the small rose bouquet in his hand. Her head tilted to the side, an intrigued look on her face as she became transfixed on the flowers.
"Special occasion?"
His eyes widened, his mouth opening to speak, but he couldn't find the words to say. He struggled, eyes looking everywhere but at her. She chuckled softly, raising an eyebrow as she watched him.
"I-I, um, they're actually for you." He whispered slowly, barely audible.
She leaned in closer to hear him speak, her eyes widening as he finished his sentence. She looked from him to the flowers, slowly leaning backwards.
"Oh, um, what for?" She chuckled.
His voice came out slightly shaky, wavering as he spoke.
"I've come to realize," he started. "That I..that I really like you. My feelings for you have grown substantially since we've met."
The words got caught in his throat, his hand coming to the back of his neck, as he caught a quick glance of her expression. There was something on her face that he couldn't discern, but he knew that it wasn't of excitement or happiness.
There was silence between the two, a ringing in Kunikida's ears suddenly becoming audible, starting soft and becoming louder. She stared at him, her smile faltering, making his heart sink further and further into his stomach. When her smile faded, it was replaced by a pitiful look. That look burned a hole through him.
Not that look. Anything but that.
"Kunikida-san...I'm really flattered, believe me. But, I don't think that I can be with you romantically."
His heart suddenly stopped upon hearing her words. He had gathered that it would be a negative reaction, but actually hearing her words felt different.
His hands fell to his sides, the rose bouquet fumbling in his hands, a single petal landing on the hardwood floor. His eyes fell down to the ground, as he stuttered out his reply.
"I-I understand..I just...I just thought.."
She averted her eyes from him, a solemn look on her face. He could handle this much better than when she looked at him pitifully.
"I apologize for, for bothering you at work." He said softly, slowly backing towards the door, the flowers hanging at his side.
She looked back up at him, opening her mouth to respond, but opting to not say anything instead. As he turned towards the door, placing his hand on the handle, she had stepped forward, her hand outreached to touch him, for a moment, before pulling back, letting him walk out the door.
~
He had been standing there for only five minutes, but it felt like an eternity. His mind was blank, filled with nothing but the overarching feeling of disappointment. Even though he had felt unsure about expressing his feelings toward her, a part of him had a small glimmer of hope that maybe she had felt the same.
His head hung low, his glasses dripping with droplets of water as his body became drenched. He slowly shuffled his feet along the sidewalk, his bangs sticking softly to his forehead. The car felt as if it were a mile away, when in reality, it was within eyesight's distance. His body was weighed down with his grief, his grip on the roses slipping.
As he passed by an alley, the flowers had fallen from his hands completely, landing in a puddle with a soft splash. He stopped suddenly, gazing down at the assortment, now soiled by the dirty water. It was then that a sudden inspiration for a poem flashed into his mind, bringing a pensive expression to his face.
Maybe uncertainty is important. I guess it can teach us to appreciate each moment, even when they don't lead to a happy ever after.