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“Go slowly… Slowly, Dazai.” Kunikida helps Dazai through the door of his apartment, one of Dazai's arms around his shoulders, supporting most of his partner's (fairly inconsiderable) weight against his own body.
“You're too slow, Kunikida-kun.” Dazai complains loudly. “I'm not an invalid.” He leans against the doorframe, lifting one leg to try and gingerly work his shoe off. Kunikida slaps his hand away, making sure Dazai is braced securely against the doorframe before he slides down onto one knee to help remove Dazai's shoes.
“You have a sprained ankle, Dazai. Like it or not, you are an invalid. Unless you're going to defy Yosano-sensei’s orders?” Dazai had injured his ankle in their latest mission, and had been ordered to stay on bed rest for the next few weeks. Kunikida had volunteered to check in on Dazai daily, because he knows that if his partner can forget to feed himself while he was healthy, he'd definitely starve if inconvenienced by a sprained ankle.
In true Dazai fashion, however, the man was extremely uncooperative in allowing Kunikida to help him. Except for happily commanding Kunikida to piggyback him all the way home, he'd seemed eager to get him to leave the second they were near his apartment.
“Yosano-sensei's orders were to stay home. I'm home, aren't I?” Despite the pair of crutches that Yosano had sent home with them, Dazai blatantly ignores them, pushing off the wall to limp towards the living room -
And almost immediately falls flat on his face.
Facedown on the floor, Dazai lets out a pathetic-sounding whine, not moving at all.
Kunikida swears under his breath, wondering how his partner can be both a genius and a complete idiot at the same time. Removing his own shoes, he steps over to where Dazai is lying on the floor. He forgoes helping Dazai to stand back up; instead, he just picks Dazai off the floor in a bridal style carry, a far quicker method of moving him.
Dazai swings his legs petulantly. “Isn't this disrupting your schedule too much, Kunikida-kun? Should you be wasting precious minutes here with a totally-not-invalid person, who's perfectly capable of taking care of himself?”
“Given the last few minutes, you could have fooled me.” Kunikida deadpans, the rough swinging of Dazai's legs not throwing him off balance at all. “If anything, I trust you even less now. I'm coming by everyday to make sure you haven't expired just from not bothering to eat while you're at home.”
“Oh my, Kunikida-kun, delaying your daily schedule for me? You shouldn't have.”
“I'm not delaying it, I'm making you part of my schedule. Learn the difference, idiot.” Dazai's mouth snaps shut with an audible clack, and Kunikida gives him a weird look. His partner is just looking at him now, eyes slightly widened but not saying anything.
He decides to pay Dazai no mind - he's more than used to his partner's weird tendencies by now - and starts walking. But as they near the living room, he feels Dazai's weight grow heavier, as if the man was purposely slouching in Kunikida's hold to slow him down.
When Kunikida looks downwards to chastise him, he sees that Dazai’s pout has become a proper frown.
“Seriously, Kunikida-kun -” Dazai swings his legs again, like the brat he is - “I'm fine from here. You should go home, water your plants, or finish your paperwork, or whatever it is that you -”
Kunikida abruptly drops him.
Dazai lands on the sofa with a loud fwump, staring up at Kunikida with huge eyes, hair askew, clothes in disarray from where Kunikida dropped him. Evidently, he hadn't been expecting that from his usually predictable partner.
“If you say you're fine,” Kunikida growls, throwing one arm in the direction of Dazai's bedroom, “get up right now, walk to your bedroom under your own power, and then I'll leave!”
Dazai stares for another minute, before the words register and he makes a valiant effort to struggle to his feet, injured foot held awkwardly off the ground. He only attempts a few awkward, hobbling steps before he realises for himself that it was a hopeless venture, and flops back down on the sofa. Kunikida stands in front of him, arms crossed, expression twisted in a way Dazai could only imagine was his partner's way of holding back a well-deserved “I told you so.”
“Alright, fine, I can't.” Dazai admits through gritted teeth. “But just hand me the crutches before you go, I can-”
“Okay, stop.” Kunikida pinches two fingers to the bridge of his nose, one palm held facing out towards him. Dazai freezes, back stiff against the sofa, watching him warily. Feeling inexplicably worn out, Kunikida scrubs a hand down his face before addressing his partner again. “Dazai. Why won't you let me help you?”
He catches sight of Dazai's frozen, stricken expression, then realises that this may be one of those unspoken topics that has to do with Dazai's previous employment. It makes him feel a little like he wants to punch something. “Forget what I said.” Kunikida amends. “Will you let me help you?”
Dazai seems to hold his breath for a long moment, then in tiny, tiny increments, slowly lets it out. “It will… Probably be very annoying for you.” Dazai grits out. Kunikida might have believed someone was holding a gun to his head to make him force out the words, from how hard Dazai's teeth were clenched as he speaks. “I'm not used to - to this.”
It takes a second for Kunikida to figure out Dazai's meaning. “To… Having someone take care of you?”
Dazai's silence is all the answer he needs.
Dazai is only 22, and has been with the Port Mafia for god knows how long before that. Kunikida already knows that Mori was the opposite of kind to him, and Nakahara Chuuya's rough demeanour likely isn't something he developed recently, either. How long has it been since Dazai was shown any form of proper kindness or care?
Every time he learns something new about his partner, Kunikida's heart breaks a little bit more for him.
He kneels down for the second time that night to place his hand on Dazai's knee - and does them both a favour by pretending he doesn't see the way Dazai nearly flinches at the contact, making sure his partner meets his eyes before he speaks.
“Listen carefully, Dazai.” Kunikida makes sure to enunciate each word clearly. “I'm not disrupting my schedule by taking care of you. I'm writing you into my schedule because you are important, you're injured, and you deserve to have someone care for you regardless. Any one of us in the ADA would be happy to do it.”
When Dazai still doesn't say anything, Kunikida stands, and pushes against Dazai's shoulder until he's lying back against the sofa. “And it won't be annoying for me. Taking care of you means you get to just lie here and do nothing, while I do everything.” His lips quirk. “Isn't that what happens every day at work already? I'm used to it by now.”
It surprises a laugh out of Dazai, who looks more composed now that their banter is back in familiar territory. He lets out a mock gasp. “That's so romantic, Kunikida-kun. Are you saying you're happy to do my paperwork for me until the end of time?”
“Who said anything about paperwork? Your hands are fine. I can bring your paperwork from the office, and you can do it lying down.”
As expected, Dazai's reaction is an immediate whine (it makes Kunikida smile a little to himself, knowing that his partner can sometimes still be predictable) - “Kunikida-kun, you can't bully the invalid!”
He raises an eyebrow. “Oh, so now you admit that you're an invalid?”
“I might as well, since you're so generously offering to be my legs for the time being.” Dazai responds cheekily.
Kunikida smiles without answering. He recognises the olive branch that Dazai is offering; allowing him to stay in exchange for the kindness that Kunikida has shown him.
“I'll make us some tea.” He says instead. Turning his back on Dazai to head into the kitchen is Kunikida offering him an olive branch of his own; a moment for Dazai to compose himself while Kunikida isn't there watching him. It's a fair trade after the rare show of honesty Dazai granted him earlier.
And Dazai's voice, low and gentle and utterly sincere, follows him as he enters the kitchen.
“Thanks, Kunikida-kun.”