Work Text:
Tap. Check the watch. Tap. Check the watch. Tap. Glance left. Glance right. No sight of who he’s anticipating. Heave a sigh. Tap again. Check the watch. And again and again, to the point of insanity.
Light spring breeze toyed with hair and hem of coat, chitchat of nameless souls passing by usually eased off, separated from restless thoughts, aroma of fresh coffee tended to please – none of those amounted to a thing when foreboding and himself fused long ago. Dazai lost count how many times he checked the time under the last minute; 13:54 is bound to haunt from now on. Beyond any doubt unlike him to show up early. Not a minute early, not five minutes – but a whole hour. Mark this day in a calender. Alas, trepidation had even him in a choke-hold. He was overtaken by an ominous feeling something disastrous is just behind the corner. Unable to simmer down Dazai had to go out on a street and wait there. Only other option was hitting the bottle, but meeting up with Kunikida wasted would get him nothing but a swift sobering up – with a fist to the head.
Impatiently tapping shoe Dazai leaned against the coffee shop and scanned the soundings. Glance left; glance right. No sight of Kunikida, and most importantly – his companion. Prior to this moment he had no clue impatience can sting this badly. Who would have thought day when he’s the one waiting for Kunikida would arrive? Who would have thought Kunikida’s punctuality could be a source of headaches in a diametrically opposite manner? Life’s funny ways, this must be karma for all times he made Kunikida wait while lazing around. Dazai suspired for the nth time in last couple minutes, kneaded forehead and pulled a face, mentally begging Kunikida to hurry up. Alas, another futile plea, time refused to bend to his will. With nothing better to do he reflected on how this all began couple weeks prior.
One of most prominent, if not endearing, traits of his work partner is that he wore heart on the sleave. Transparent like a piece of paper Kunikida is a doddle to read, let alone when worked up. That didn’t mean he was incapable of surprising him from time to time, just that Dazai knew what to expect most of the times. Sometimes a hitch, now proved to be a lucky break. They’ve been working together for nearly three years now. By this point Kunikida couldn’t keep a secret from him even if his life depended on it – especially when it came to something personal and potentially embarrassing.
With all that said it didn’t take Dazai more than a couple hours of Kunikida’s fishy behavior to figure something ain’t quite right. Jitteriness, constant phone cheeking, lips curving into a smile void of a concrete reason, overall good mood even if they’re swamped with paperwork, odd evasiveness, even odder tolerance for sluggishness and mistakes along with many more miniature clues point towards uncharacteristic behavior – from the A to Z everything was shady. Even so, the most stark evidence distraction.
Kunikida was distracted.
Or more specifically – distracted during work.
Is the world ending or is he woke up in a parallel universe? Hard to tell. There are miracles, there are bible level miracles – and there are things that are downright impossible. Kunikida’s strange behavior fell into the last category. From time to time Dazai had to sneak up on him and pinch cheek under guise of a jest, but in reality to nullify the potential ability he might be under. There was no ability involved. Kunikida’s woolgathering was as real as Dazai’s thing for slacking off. Color him curious, on top of worried sick.
Fortunately it didn’t take much grilling to get to the bottom of a head-scratcher. Couple well timed digs at his love life and Kunikida was blushing and spilling the beans. Apparently he found himself a girlfriend. Now that is what one calls a surprise. Dazai couldn’t believe his ears. At first he gawked, then cracked up. He laughed himself to tears; stopped only when Tanizaki called Yosano to check on him. Strangely Kunikida wasn’t as exasperated with his raillery as he’d usually be. That’s how Dazai figured supposed girlfriend must be a reason for the good mood, thence unusual tolerance for deviltry and goofing off; couldn’t claim it didn’t make sense, just this romanticism isn’t quite… nah, it is exactly how he visualized Kunikida head over hells.
Granted Dazai was Dazai, born under a lucky star, Kunikida was willing to talk even after being made fun of. According to him they met in a post office; peak romance. They bumped into each other and her documents ended up scattered on the ground; how cliché. In a true gentleman fashion Kunikida profusely apologized and gathered the papers. As chance would have it girl is a foreigner, thus in dire need of help, which he gladly provided. Most stories would end there, on protagonist being used. Much to Kunikida’s luck (or dismay, time will tell), girl was interested in him. They went on a half an hour walk afterwards and woman left Kunikida his number. He waited couple days before sending her a message and they hit off from there on.
Dazai absorbedly listened to his enamored recital, wondering what portion of blather to discard as love-sickness. Story was too good to be true. When Kunikida disclosed that woman met all his ideals all alarms went off in Dazai’s head. When there’s smoke there’s fire. He pressed. First thing first, why keep quiet about the good news? After bit of weaseling Kunikida admitted he wasn’t confident whether they’re together. Once things crystallized he entertained idea of taking the lid off but decided against it out of fear of jinxing things. Also there was a matter of Dazai’s womanizing and possibly hitting on his girlfriend. Dazai was somewhat taken aback Kunikida would think so low of him, but he revealed this is most about Dazai’s innate charm – women fall for him unprompted. Thus Kunikida’s misgivings were in place, Dazai supposed; and damn did it stroke ego.
Either way, Kunikida’s mysterious girlfriend. Sofia Ivanovna. No matter how much Dazai mulled it, mentally chewed the name over and over again, he couldn’t help thinking someone ran ‘most common Russian names’ through the Google search and rolled with the first result. To say he was suspicious would be underplaying scope of shadiness. Said suspicion ampped up when he ran a private search and figured there’s no one under that name currently residing in Yokohama. Spreading the search outside the borders turned out sleeveless. Name is that common it’d be like searching for a needles in a haystack. Mere coincidence? Or alias was intentionality chosen to be common so tracking down is next to impossible? Dazai reasoned he’s on a warranted guard.
Most bizarre speculations crossed mind. Is Kunikida getting played by a Russian spy? How cliché. But then again, he didn’t peg Kunikida as a type to religiously watch Hollywood soap operas, so no surprise he’s unaware of his role in this romantic comedy with a tragic ending. Dazai pictured a skilled conversationalist bombshell blond with a sculptured body and flair for cajolery. If so, Kunikida never stood a chance. Howbeit, if girl is indeed a spy question of who she’s sent by naturally raised. Why target Agency? Otiose to question ‘why target Kunikida’, because if you were to target Agency members with a hot babe you will choose Kunikida, no if’s or but’s. Fear it might be Dostoevsky's scheme wasn’t implausible, but Dazai was tentative. Rats resort to all sorts of foul plays but seducing a virtuous man is a new low – even for a rat that isn’t picky with the means.
Still, if it were Dostoevsky's ploy then Kunikida should, at very least, be suspicious of rat’s rat. He’s a quite perceptive and heedful young man; a detective for heaven’s sake. Meaning he should have questioned his inhuman luck, consequentially girl’s motives for dating him. Yes, a true gentlemen with nothing short of best interest in mind, even charming and entertaining at times. But that’s where qualities ended and awkwardness began. Women crave something spicier, Dazai knew firsthand. Unless she’s into clumsy blushing men stuttering with words at the sight of a bare leg then he could only speculate what drew the girl in. As much as it smarted acknowledging someone can be with just because they have an ax to grind, Kunikida had to face the music: any woman would be turned off by his endless list of standards no human being can possibly meet. Naturally questioning was due.
But none of those questioning sorts took place. It seems Kunikida dived head first. He stepped over all detective cautiousness and accepted everything at the face value. Not to mention he overstepped own ideals. He’s not supposed to meet his ‘soulmate’ before the age of twenty four, meaning wait at least a year before dating. No other conclusion could be drawn other than that Kunikida is swept off his feet – in every sense of word.
Kunikida getting duped by some foreign girl in for the money would be uproarious, however if matters aren’t that benignant and banal then Dazai had to step in. What if this is attack on Agency? What if worming into Kunikida’s heart is a part of a much bigger ploy? He couldn’t leave anything to the chances. Thence started own mini investigation. Dazai didn’t necessarily share his findings and reservations with the rest of Agency; better not wind them up without any concrete proof to offer. Yosano and Fukuzawa suspected he’s up to something but left him to own devices, per usual. Ranpo was onto his digging even before them, but also let him be for a while. At the end of the day curiosity got the best of him. Ranpo sneaked up to him and pried. With no reason to hide Dazai let him in on his suspicion. After busting a gut Ranpo sobered up and offered his insight. Dazai had him use his ‘skill’ to deduce what’s going on. All Ranpo managed to deduce is – nothing good.
Great. Kunikida fell in love for the first time and right into some minx’s trap. Comedy was writing itself.
These may be laughing matters, but far from joking ones. Stressed Kunikida is already a nightmare to handle, Dazai dreaded imagining him heartbroken. He shuddered instantly. Not more visceral guidance was required to push him into action. After exhausting all his resources Dazai dialed his ties in Port Mafia to see if they can uncover a thing. Imagine Akutagawa’s joy when he was told he’s needed; imagine his disappointment once he figure out his assistance is needed to run a name in a database. After bit of moping and passive-aggressive needling Akutagawa complied. As it turned out not even Port Mafia had any record of supposed Sofia Ivanovna; or rather it was squeaky clean. Just his luck – just when Dazai presumed predicament couldn’t be more shady.
Was he overdoing it? Possibly. However in his line of work Dazai quickly learned there’s no such thing as ‘overdoing it’, just being reasonably cautious. Better be safe than sorry. It’s not everyday Kunikida gets himself a girlfriend, let alone one that’s up to his ridiculous standards. To this day Dazai maintains they’re unachievable. Such woman cannot possibly exist. Dazai abode by that statement. Therefore:
1. Kunikida is blinded by love and girl’s charm. In his besotted state of mind he lost the ability to reason. In the long run absentmindedness would be a hindrance to Agency’s work, however Dazai counted on charm wearing off in next to no time. Still, he had to chuckle at the though of Kunikida being the one to fumble work; what a twist of fate, he so had to meet this girl capable of rewriting Kunikida’s entire personality with a wink.
2. Or maybe Kunikida is being swindled. Or at very least led on by something other than own dewy-eyed expectations. That’s a risky path, and unfortunately the likeliest one. Now, for what reason is he being dazzled, Dazai could only postulate theories. Worst case scenario is that someone’s plotting Agency’s downfall and is in for blood – and that’s the scenario he’s rolling with until proven otherwise.
3. Last, but not the least: what if it’s no woman at all? No, not a man either, no human could meet Kunikida’s ideals, but a reincarnation of devil himself. Sure, he gave nullification a shot, but maybe he needed to touch the ability user to dispel effect of lovesickness. Or maybe this is some eldritch horror thing, like with Lovecraft. In that case Dazai couldn’t do anything but wish Kunikida all luck of this planet and heading for the hills.
Granted everything else failed Dazai was left with the only one option: meet the mystery lady himself. Alas, skirt chaser reputation precedes him. If there’s someone who has misfortune of being onto all his flirtations then it’s Kunikida. He was against the idea – for a very good reason. Bit more of ego stroking, Dazai reveled in the affirmation he’s a lady magnet. It took days to persuade Kunikida to let him meet his girlfriend. He begrudgingly agreed, on a condition girlfriend isn’t left alone with him for a second; and that if he as much as spies him hitting on the girl he’s getting hit in turn. Fair, Dazai trusted own shrewdness and self-control enough to behave, not matter how drop dead gorgeous Kunikida’s girlfriend is. Spy or not she’s still Kunikida’s, thence he ought to know his limits.
That’s how Dazai ended up here with his impatience. Out of habit he checked the watch once again. It felt like a whole eternity has passed. In reality just one minute. At punctually 13:59:50 Kunikida finally showed up with his girlfriend. Dazai let out a heavy sigh of relief, but it soon turned into a wheeze. His heart did the unimaginable: skipped a beat. So much for the infamous heartbeat control, in situations this suspenseful even he couldn’t stay composed. He had to assert the situation before tension engulfs.
Regrettably not much could be made out from dozen meters distance. Dazai placed hand above eyes, squinted and scrutinized. Okay, she’s definitely tall. Damn, even taller than me in those heels. Seeing she’s a foreigner maybe that’s not so surprising, but he had to stay alert. From afar girl looked fairly normal. Trendy outfit fitting a date, short black hair, neatly done make-up, white purse flung over shoulder – nothing waved a red flag. However as she approached ominous feeling took over Dazai. Shiver after shiver ripped down spine. Soon he was shaking like a leaf. How peculiar, yet denotative; if not a bit disgracing, but nevermind that. Alas, this isn’t the first time he had a reaction this visceral to meeting someone, but it is the second.
First time was in an alley two years ago, when he first ran into the demon rat. Mere recollection made Dazai shudder; heaven forbid they cross paths again, let alone spontaneously. First encounter with Fyodor lasted no more than a ten minutes but no more than a single would have been enough to be permanently engraved in back of mind. To this day Dazai vividly recalled disquietude in chest and heaviness resting on shoulders, as if Fyodor’s mere heinous presence choked the life out of him; not in sexy way, in gruesome excruciating way. That smothering presence of pure evil isn’t something one can possibly forget, not even for a lifetime.
Speaking of Fyodor, Dazai couldn’t shake off the feeling that… no, it cannot be.
Another shiver ripped down spine, like an omen. It pushed Dazai into more exhaustive scrutiny. The more he stared the more affirmed he was in his suspicion; the more he eyeballed the more glaring the similarities became, all down to the analogous discomfort. Surely apprehension resurrected for a very good reason. Just his luck it became more and more transparent with each passing second.
No amount of weaseling helped the case – this is Fyodor Dostoevsky in a skirt and heels.
Oh hell no.
So much for Fyodor sending a hot babe to bewitch Kunikida, leaving nothing to the chances he took on the role himself. If situation wasn’t this dire Dazai swore he would have doubled over. This way he could only palm face and groan; then proceed to berate himself over not grasping scope of Fyodor’s wickedness on time. Worst of all is that he did have a hunch it might come to this, just wrote the idea off as reachy, induced by substances. After this fiasco of a date Dazai was positive it’s just those substances he’d run to for mending psychological damage dealt by Fyodor’s evilness – and a skirt that criminally short.
Okay, leastways plight crystallized now. Fyodor is after Agency’s downfall. Usually Kunikida is cautious when it comes to work, sure as shouting wouldn’t disclose a thing – willingly. Therein lays the catch. Dazai held no illusions he’s not weak to ‘woman’s’ touch. Issue is that Dazai grasped that Fyodor grasped that way pass the eleventh hour. By worming into Kunikida’s heart he wormed into the Agency as well. Fyodor’s manipulativeness isn’t to be underplayed, give him a month and he’d inculcate sin into even the most level-headed men. Playing into Kunikida’s ideals must have been a piece of cake for a snake like him. With co-president gone, metaphorically, next in line would be the president. If playing a role of Kunikida’s girlfriend isn’t above him then Dazai wouldn’t put it pass the rat to dress up as a moe cat and have Fukuzawa transfixed before anyone can bark. From there on Agency would be doomed, chaos orchestrated by a little price of Fyodor’s dignity he evidently had to spare.
All Dazai’s fears came true. Not only is Kunikida blinded by love and taken for a ride, but also led on by a demon in a dress. Quite scanty dress if he may. Most criminal thing here is how slim Fyodor’s waist turned out to be. Damn it.
Kunikida steadily approached with his ‘girlfriend’, sporting a modest smile yet radiating with joy – much to his dismay completely misguided joy, just Dazai was lost how to deliver the news in a way that doesn’t end up in a trip to an emergency room, shortly followed by morgue. Initial shock wore off. Now that he’s up close Dazai had to study Fyodor more thoroughly. Hair neatly combed and braided at the side, simple cross shaped earings bouncing with every step, eyeliner and mascara concealing usually accented eye bags, touch of white eye shadow served as charming contrast, bluish contact lenses masking viciousness in blood red irises, slight blush coloring pallid skin provided a healthy flush, red lipstick accented thin usually chapped lips – stung acknowledging, but Dazai had to say he looked good. Leastwise had to applaud immaculately done make-up. Who would have thought infamous demon has a knack for anything other than being a menace to society? In all fairness, he is even now, by making inexperienced men lose their heads.
And that’s not even mentioning the chic outfit and confidence he carried himself with. Fyodor picked a white blouse, loose enough to conceal lack of chest but still come off as feminine. Tight waisted black skirt clung to hips and accented body most men could only dream of – to have under their fingers, not possess themselves. Dazai slowly swallowed, for once knocked for six. Involuntarily eyes darted lower to black nylons and heeled boots; then very voluntarily locked on tantalizing sight and checked out.
Damn, Fyodor has really nice legs.
Being caught up in a warranted scrutiny it slipped Dazai’s mind he’s, indeed, ogling. Intention wasn’t like that, obviously, but Kunikida didn’t see it that way. “Where are your manners Dazai?!”, he made a face and scolded. Just then Dazai grasped he got checked in a very opening move – by checking ‘the girlfriend’ out he set the meeting on a tense note.
Dazai had a feeling that if they were alone he would have been swatted on the head and chided more forthrightly. But Kunikida refrained from crabbiness, living testament to how much he itched to leave a good impression. “Quit gaping like a fish”, he grumbled, however smiled meekly. Reason for elation became evident when Kunikida’s eyes wandered to his ‘pure demure girlfriend’. Eyes instantly softened. “You’ll scare Sofia”, he added bit milder and rubbed her shoulder.
Said ‘Sofia’ was docilely smiling by his side; of course smile didn’t meet the eyes. Diverted flash in unmistakably sly gaze, in his soul Dazai knew he was being judged – and mocked. ‘Sofia’ went as far to hook arms with Kunikida, lean into this side and fake a blush, all while provoking him through equally fake eyelashes. Kunikida’s heart tangibly skipped a beat, accordingly Dazai’s sank. Seemingly wickedness of your nonexistent heart is lost even to me.
Fyodor is a better actor than he gave him credit for. Up until now Dazai counted on Fyodor’s ego size Atlantic ocean to prevent him from pulling trick this dirty. Apparently he surmised wrong. Nothing is above this sadistic rat with a flair for play acting and dressing up. If it’s for a dream of ‘creating world without sin of ability users’ Fyodor would resort to sin of seduction and playing on virtuous men’s blind hope and pent up frustrations – and Devil clearly knew Kunikida has both in abundance.
Dazai had hunch that closeness is what placated Kunikida. Good for him, but it absolutely ruffled Dazai. Unlike Kunikida he has fair share of experience with temptresses and eyelashes batting. He’s not paralyzed by woman’s beauty and pliancy. “My bad”, was all Dazai managed to chunter, instead paralyzed by shock foreign to his nature. Silver lining, letting tongue loose in front of Fyodor isn’t the brightest idea. He had to watch out for every word.
Of course strange demeanor caught Kunikida’s eye. “Is something wrong Dazai?”, he probed warily. Yes, a lot of things. “It’s not like you to apologize”, Kunikida added with a frown. It’s not like you to be seduced by a devil in a dress, Dazai itched to sass but refrained from giving lip. They had a common enemy here and it surely ain’t just Kunikida’s viridity.
Kunikida addressed him with a questioning look, Fyodor with similar puzzled one but Dazai easily saw through the smoke and mirrors – this is a litmus test. Mind raced. Time ran out. What to do? What to do? He had to temporize. “Don’t mind me Kunikida-kun”, Dazai flashed a cheeky grin and sheepishly rubbed back of head. If everything fails role of a Casanova is promised to weave charm. “I’m merely enchanted by Sofia’s beauty~”, so he cooed with a lady killer smile; force of habit.
Right when excuse left mouth Dazai realized his second blunder – he directly stepped over promise he gave Kunikida to not hit on his ‘girlfriend’. Not like he wanted ‘her’, heaven forbid, however couldn’t help wondering how this predicament could have been avoided if Fyodor targeted him instead. He wouldn’t have refused the offer, far from that. Just, unlike Kunikida, knew how to play this game right. Or maybe not, if current fuck-up is a testament to unpolished skills. Gaffe this enormous is below his level. Depth of Fyodor’s depravity must have gotten to him, no other explanation. Fine, there’s also a matter of those tantalizing slender legs, but he really ought to be above boyish lust.
Thankfully Kunikida didn’t have a chance to bristle at his lapse, ‘Sofia’ nestled closer, batted eyelashes and purred. “That’s flattering, but I only have eyes for him” – oh gosh, what is that mellow feminine voice? Not to mention he didn’t recall Fyodor speaking Japanese with this thick Slavic accent. And this answer by the textbook. Such a groaner, yet it worked.
Sadly it’s not just voice and appearance, but expression. Fyodor played the role of a demure maiden so naturally it surely ain’t his first time preying on naiver men’s expectations. Friends or foes, Dazai had to praise dedication to the craft. Ah, so this is how Kunikida got duped.
As if horror unfolding in front of his eyes weren’t already terrific enough Fyodor had to tiptoe and place a peck on Kunikida’s cheek; proceed to leave a bright lipstick mark guaranteed to forever be incised in back of Dazai’s mind. Kunikida let out a squeak and flushed red like a lobster. In contrast Dazai paled white as a ghost. Yep, definitely love stricken. Making Kunikida fall out of love with the character Fyodor presented will be an uphill climb, Dazai felt it in his bones.
Letting go of paralyzed smitten Kunikida ‘Sofia’ confidently advanced towards him. She halted few feet away, cocked head, swept hair to side in textbook seducer fashion and extended hand. “Anyways, I’m Sofia, pleasure to meet you Dazai-san”, offered a coy smile that all but met the eyes.
Only thanks to years of subterfuges Dazai maintained a poker face, otherwise he would have wiped that sly smile from Fyodor’s. “Likewise”, is all he managed to mouth before accepting the handshake. Dazai made sure to squeeze Fyodor’s hand with very un-gentlemen-like force, to send the message. If Kunikida weren’t present he would have twisted Fyodor’s wrist, for no profoundness reason than to have him squeak like a hideous rat he is beneath 1kg of make-up.
If clasp ached Fyodor endured it. Two could play a game. Being stung of course scorpion had to sting back. Fyodor’s smile softened further; additionally eyes hardened. “Kunikida told me a lot about you”, he susurrated with seeping treacliness.
Accordingly Dazai barely held back from making a wry face. Congratulations Kunikida, you possibly leaked some vital information to our biggest enemy. If Fyodor’s puncturing mascara gaze wasn’t piercing into his soul Dazai would have gave Kunikida a dry look that would have likely elucidated everything. This way he refused to yield; not to Fyodor’s games, not to unease amassing in chest. If anyone told him Kunikida’s sexual repression ends up being a reason for Agency’s downfall Dazai would have laughed. Now fate was laughing at him, as well as Fyodor. But I will have the last laugh, that I vow to you.
Maybe a minute passed, maybe an hour. Dazai genuinely couldn’t tell. He was lost in thoughts, hectically contemplating how to defuse the situation without leveling out Kunikida’s upper and lower blood pressure. Funny how he was previously extra conscious of passage of time, but now time passed outside his perception. They exchanged pleasantries and headed into the cafe. Dazai hardly recalled a thing from that moment to the point when waiter delivered their orders. Stupor was too great for him to be fully present. Pang of coffee cup being lowered on a table centered into a tense moment – and damn did he have what to see.
Kunikida raised the cup to lips and blew into coffee; in process glasses fogged. He frowned and reached for them but Fyodor beat him up to it. Chuckling he nuzzled into Kunikida’s side and fetched the glasses; cleaned them and murmured something that made Kunikida blush but was too low for Dazai to make out. Fluster was short-lived, Kunikida quickly recollected; smiled gently and wrapped arm around Fyodor’s shoulder. To say Dazai was on pins and needles would be a great minimization. If Sofia was really Sofia he would have dared proclaim scene lovely; as he knew who Sofia really is this is plain horror material. The harder Kunikida falls in love the harder he’ll crash once mask drops. As fun as it was to rattle his cage Dazai would rather he’s the only one to do it. Fyodor’s games are far from harmless; quite the contrary, guaranteed to break Kunikida on a fundamental level. Dazai couldn’t allow that to happen.
The longer he observed the sweet lie unfolding the more nauseous he got. This isn’t going anywhere. He had to have a moment with Fyodor before situation deescalates. However demanding a minute isn’t an option. That’s one of the conditions that lead to this fateful meeting in the first place. Abiding by that half baked promise won’t lead anywhere. Dazai was bent on orchestrating chain of events that would result in Kunikida leaving them alone for some time. Whether he’ll choke the life out of Fyodor or strip him bare in the middle of the street during that time, Dazai sincerely couldn’t tell; nor did it matter, because he vowed to beat Fyodor once and for all, by fair means or foul.
Rack brains. Rack brains. Ugh, gears in mind rusted. Huffing and sulking Dazai lifted his cup of coffee, which evidently ain’t doing it for him. Maybe if he ordered an espresso instead of latte then… oh. Yes, that had potential to work. Why not? Mug wasn’t hot per se, however Dazai made it seem the opposite. He hissed as if it’s searing and let it slip through fingers. As intended coffee spilled right over Kunikida’s lap.
He instantaneously jolted up. “Dazai you klutz!”, yelped and shot him a ‘you’re never worming yourself out of paperwork again’ look. Setback surely, but for unshackling Kunikida from Fyodor’s foxy clutches he’ll gladly work like a dog.
All according to the plan. “Ups, my bad”, Dazai pursed lips and feigned guilt. “Seeing you two all lovey-dovey had me distracted”, chirped and tipped head to shoot Fyodor a knowing look. You better play along or next coffee will be flung into your dolled up ugly mug.
Gleam in eyes lasted for a heartbeat, but it was enough for Dazai to fathom message was passed. Fyodor gestured them to hose down. “It’s fine Dazai-san”, he murmured lightly and fetched a napkin. Then softened both tone and expression, telltale of machination Kunikida was blind to. “It was an accident”
It was no accident and they both knew that. Just like Fyodor’s hand rushing down to Kunikida’s groin was no accident. He pretended to rub the stain off but funny movement of Fyodor’s wrist bespoke of innate awareness of affect his actions elicited. So sly, Dazai had to laud. Suddenly Kunikida’s face was crimson red out of completely different reasons. Sixth sense nagged this is far from the first time Fyodor played game this dirty. Seemingly he preyed on Kunikida’s ‘no funny business before marriage’ restriction as well. Not only did it work in Fyodor’s favors considering he’s less likely to be uncloaked but Kunikida was easier to twist around the little finger when pent up.
“I…”, red in face Kunikida stuttered, fought for breath. Dazai tittered; with head bent low it was a challenge to tell what Fyodor thought of Kunikida’s stumbling, but Dazai surmised he was diverted – sadist in him must have been reveling all these weeks, got off on fooling gullible but powerful men.
“I’ll be right back!”, Kunikida peeped and darted towards the washroom. Dazai kept one eye on him, other on Fyodor. He waited until Kunikida was out of the sight before returning gaze back to his arch nemesis. Smile fell. Time to cut the chase – and hopefully Fyodor’s disguise as well.
Heaving a sigh Fyodor leaned into the chair, crossed legs and proceeded with playacting. “He can be so clumsy at times, but it’s endearing”, rested cheek into outstretched palm and hummed dreamily, as if really enamoured. Fable might work on someone else, but with him was nothing short of insult to intelligence. “I’m curious, how long have you -
“What the fuck are you doing”
“- two known each other”
Silence followed. At first Fyodor pretended he heard nothing, then skirted eyes towards him and played innocent. Once he fathomed pretense doesn't pass any longer he arched a brow. “Excuse me?”, protested in that docile melodious voice of his.
“Gonna play dumb?”, Dazai leaned across the table and taunted. “How rude”, tipped chin and rolled tongue. As tempting as it was to jab on Fyodor’s get-up Dazai went straight to the point. “You rats don’t have manpower to bring Yokohama down to ashes, so you resort to getting into Kunikida’s pants in order to destabilize Agency”, he shook head and tittered, partially still in disbelief this is course of action Fyodor deemed most profitable.
Jab had Fyodor making a face. Oh how marvelously lour bedecked his features, far better than make-up and sly smiles do. Crossing legs Dazai leaned into the cheap chair like a king in a throne and ridiculed further. “Congratulations Dostoevsky, you’ve managed to have me impressed and disappointed in one go”
Fyodor blankly stared at him, gears in mind patently shifting. For once he was a piece of cake to read. Crystal clear he was on the fence whether to drop the act or keep it, in spite of glaring holes in the mask. “I’m afraid I have no idea what you’re talking about”, Fyodor stated flatly at long last, with an offended look; even if phony it suited him like a glove. “I’m Sofia”
Still playing oblivious? Expected but disappointing. “And I’m the biggest dog fan”, Dazai wisecracked and snorted; toyed with the idea of reaching forwards and touching Fyodor in same risqué fashion but shied from anything too dicey. Rather the pressing right away and scaring a rat back into a hole Dazai gave him time.
Judgment turned out to be on the place. Heaving a sigh Fyodor gave him a dirty look. “You might as well be”, sneered in his normal masculine voice. Bingo. Despite himself Dazai let giddy smile touch lips. Withal, just as he was about to jubilate Fyodor had to deal a blow. “Considering your partner is no better than a docile puppy when praised and petted”
Okay, he definitely didn’t need to know this. Now he’s bound to be plagued by a mental image of blushing Kunikida with a thing for being praised for a lifetime. Still, it was a attestation to how easy Kunikida was to maneuver when his strings are heaven right. Dazai vowed once rat infestation is dealt with he’ll make a game out of Kunikida’s suppressed desires. Quite vanilla ones if he may, but Dazai knew he wouldn’t share the sentiment; surely would stutter and blush. Ah, there’s his ticket out of clearly avoidable paperwork.
Dazai was determined to push on, just to get unpleasant images of puppy-like Kunikida out of mind. “Infamous demon Dostoevsky”, he sobered up and rocked forwards, partially hoping to unnerve the devil; fumes of fancy. Oh well, if everything else fails seduction as last resort never did. “I didn’t peg you as a type to resort to tricks this low”, thus Dazai blatantly sized up Fyodor’s skimpy outfit to make the point.
Without a warning Fyodor stood up. Dazai leered, deeming this is about making his check-up easier. Of course Fyodor had to disillusion him. “Peeved I’m taller than you now?”, he teased both with words and semi seductive pose, uncaring of attention their quarrel has gathered.
Oh that’s so a challenge. Without a forethought Dazai stood up and inspected. Damn, Fyodor really is taller. Dazai sat down; shrunk into himself like a wet cat. Briefly he toyed with the idea of fetching Kunikida’s discarded coffee and swinging it into Fyodor’s face, but eschewed violence. He wanted to win fair and square, meaning beat Fyodor in a verbal debate; attack with cold logic and corner like a wet rat.
Ironically he resorted to digs. “Envious of your dress up skills? Oh please”, Dazai provoked. In all candor, it’s not Fyodor’s theatricality he’s envious of, but something else he’d rather not name. Let’s just say he had multiple motives for wanting hands around Fyodor’s neck. “Shall I doll up and go seduce one of your fellow associates then?” – don’t tempt him, he would. He really would. Bonus if it’s Fyodor’s most rigid chaste colleague, if he even had such character in his lines; it had to be eye for an eye.
Threat had Fyodor smirking. “All is fair in love and war”, he mocked with a grin. “Last time I checked there are no hopeless romantics in my lines”, then reasoned firmer, shattering Dazai’s dreams of getting even. Alas, he didn’t have luxury of time to wallow in self-pity. Without a warning Fyodor glided fingertip below his chin; damn, he even manicured nails. Tremor ran over limbs, nothing to do with premonition anymore. Suddenly Dazai was itching for a cold drink.
“So I wish you luck with that, Dazai-kun”
Touché. Just Dazai no longer knew what he needed luck with more – stripping Fyodor of aces up sleeve or shirt altogether.
Either way, shooting down a challenge wasn’t an option. Rather than swatting Fyodor’s hand away Dazai cupped it and guided to lips. Casanova in him needn’t ponder. In a gentlemen fashion he traced kisses up ‘lady’s’ hand. Of course he had an ulterior motive on top of an ulterior motive. By holding onto Fyodor’s hand he effectively prevented him from scramming; really, rat fleeing is the last thing he needs. How will he convince Kunikida girl he dated for a month is a infamous internationally wanted terrorist? News of Fyodor being a man would pale in comparison, but Kunikida buying either wasn’t in the cards.
Coquetry went on, as a filibuster. However time was ticking out, he had to gain the upper ground whichever way possible before Kunikida returns. “I’m aware you don’t have a heart”, Dazai tittered into Fyodor’s hand. “But must you really play with a hopefully young man’s one?”, chaffed and nipped on wan skin. Deep down he wanted to sink teeth in and make Fyodor bleed as a payback for all frustrations he induced so far.
Blood lust was conspicuous, but didn’t faze demon in slightest; quite the contrary, chuffed. “Sharpest weapon is average man’s desperation”, trust Fyodor to preach even when in a skirt and heels. “He wears his heart on a sleeve. Why hold back when blind hope made him the perfect target?”, he shrugged and conveyed what Dazai already knew – why seducing Kunikida was a cushy job.
Unfortunately Fyodor hit the bull eye. No matter how much he racked brains Dazai couldn’t come up with a reasonable counterpoint. Of course, there is one of morality but that’s long lost on Fyodor. So Dazai bought time by nuzzling into his hand; internally was praying Kunikida doesn’t return now and catches him seducing his ‘girlfriend’. But hey, if that’s what it takes for them to break up then Dazai would gladly endure wrath and tones of paperwork. He’d gladly take role of Fyodor’s wanna-be lover if it means sparring any poor innocent soul his evil sexy philandering.
Pregnant pause was seized. “Will you tell him the truth when he returns?”, tone silken, yet words so nipping.
Dazai froze.
I’ll tell him – backchat died on tip of tongue for Dazai fathomed he’d be shooting himself in the foot. He’s already flirted with ‘Sofia’. If he insists now she’s not who she presents herself to be Kunikida would be suspicious of his intentions, at the best. If it were a regular spy Dazai counted on his gift of the gab to bear fruit, however he had no illusions Fyodor wouldn’t rewrite the scrip to his liking. Normally that wouldn’t be an issue. Trust between himself and Kunikida is strong, of course he’d trust him over a stranger he knew for a month. But this is no regular stranger. Unfortunately ‘Sofia’ managed to creep into his heart and mind. It’s not too implausible to presume he might prioritize her word over his; in his distorted mind it might carry more weight, especially void of anything to back it up.
The more Dazai thought about it the more he grasped just how deep in the mud he is. Ah damn. To sum up: he played himself – played himself big time. There must be something in the air, that’s the only explanation Dazai was willing to accept. No way Fyodor’s tiny waist and slender legs bewitched this much.
He betrayed himself by putting nuzzles and pecks on a hold. Suppressed snicker informed Dazai all he needed to know. “Right, you won’t”, Fyodor gloated; raked fingers through Dazai’s hair and petted. He tipped head so their gazes meet. “Or rather you can’t”, mocked while treating him like a dog Fyodor knew he abhorred.
“Check and mate, my dear”
It took all of Dazai’s self-restrain to not bite Fyodor’s fingers off. Seeing he’d reaffirm a dog label by resorting to brutishness Dazai kept himself in rein. He narrowed eyes and openly brooded. Fyodor’s smugness enkindled quite a dangerous flame. Oh no, I won’t let you win without a fight. Previous Dazai wished said fight is fair and square, now realized such feat was misguided in the first place. Fyodor wouldn’t know fair play if it was shoved into his face, resorting to dirty play would actually be fair.
Just as Fyodor was about to retreat Dazai clasped his wrist. Sharp gasp and flinch were balm for piqued soul. “To beat a devil you have to play dirty”, he proffered gruffly; shot gaze up and sized Fyodor up. Shudder was subtle but he drank it in nonetheless; it compelled. “You said yourself everything’s fair in love and war”, without a warning Dazai clasped Fyodor’s thigh – yes, he was acting like a dog, just not loyal tame one Fyodor is used to.
Grunt was akin to ballad for ears. Psyched him up. Dazai locked eyes on Fyodor’s groin; quite unabashedly. Skirt was impressively flat. He couldn’t spot a bulge. “By the way, impressive tuck”, so he slurred, void of any decorum or shame. Fyodor either tucked professionally or he’s that small there’s close to nothing to hide; or maybe there indeed is nothing. Whatever it is he’ll check out himself in next to no time.
It was Fyodor’s turn to be perplexed. “Excuse me?”, this once nonplus wasn’t artificial, nor the offense. “Where did your manners go?”, he gave reasoning one last try, but Dazai could tell Fyodor knew it’s in vain. His manners went to the same place Fyodor’s dignity did – six feet under.
Kunikida may not believe his words but he surely will believe own eyes. If he smudges Fyodor’s make-up and strips him to bare skin then Fyodor wouldn’t have any excuse to offer. Pretense will fall flat. If he can’t win fairly he will dirty. “Oh don’t be shy now”, Dazai purred throatily. He clasped tighter, tore leggings apart and tried hoisting Fyodor’s skirt up. “Let me see”
Dazai pressed him down with his body and attempted to unfasten blouse. Bit of wiggling and hissing but he managed. White stuffed bra came into view – took breath away. Why so when neither Fyodor had breast nor this is the first time he saw women’s bra, Dazai could only speculate. He was lost in thoughts for a second or two; not too long but enough for Fyodor to react. Which he did not. Odd, but rather indicative. Either way, he used Fyodor’s passivity to smear eyeliner and lipstick over cheeks. Enemies they are but Dazai still had to admit Fyodor depicted the most breathtaking picture undone like this; all that’s missing are choking marks and tears streaming down face.
Right away Dazai noted two things. Fine, three, but himself being a pervert isn’t anything new; only new that desire extended to this evil rat as well. Aside the point. First and foremost, Fyodor smelled really nice. Heady flowery scent teased senses; tickled imagination. Alas, those fantasies had to be put on a hold, this was neither time nor place. Secondly, and more crucially, Fyodor fought him just in name. Anemic constitution, lack of strength, sure, but he could put on a real fight. At very least could attempt to kick him with a heel, especially in the groin. This meek squirming fooled no one. Fyodor’s tractability discomposed for it reeked of artifice, tale old as time. Dazai couldn’t shake off the feeling he’s not that much better than Kunikida; that he’s playing right into Fyodor’s palm.
Alas, he chose this baring path, backing off now would be unsavory. With shirt unbuttoned and mascara smudged Dazai roamed palms down slender waist. He pressed and traced curved; up and down, again and again. Prodigy that he is Dazai managed to convince himself palpation was absolutely necessary for his plans. After a rougher squeeze Fyodor’s arms finally flung forwards; spiritless protest, with ease Dazai captured wrists and held above head. He shoved leg between Fyodor’s, sank teeth into exposed milky skin and overwhelmed completely. Fyodor’s gasps and writhes galvanized. In spur of a moment initial goal slipped from Dazai’s mind; no better than a feral dog he itched to tear this sly fox apart.
Eventually hand made it to Fyodor’s thighs. Nylons were already torn, skin beneath oddly warm to touch. Dazai thrust fingers inside and brushed against something cold and metallic. Per expected Fyodor had a knife stashed inside skirt. Fortunately Dazai seized it and pulled out of leggings before it could be used; not so fortunately in all that squirming Fyodor lost balance. He fell over the table and reflexively clung to very first thing beneath fingers – which ended up being his shirt.
Dazai ended up dragged over Fyodor. Ouch. Table toppled over, along with them. Slam captured more attention than he fancied – reminded Dazai he’s actually doing all this in public during a very lively afternoon. Collective gasp was that blaring his heart instantly sank. In his heart Dazai knew exactly how badly he fucked up and exaclty what is upcoming.
“Quaaa, police!”, woman next table screeched while frenziedly reaching for phone.
Ah shit.
“Someone call the police! Pervert is assaulting a woman in a broad daylight!”
He’s not. Okay, maybe pervert part wasn’t so off target, but he’s not assaulting a woman. Really, he’s doing a community service by stripping Fyodor off dignity and clothes! He should be thanked, not arrested! Woefully public didn’t share his sentiment. It seems Ango will have some new records to clean up.
“Ahhh he’s armed!”
Oh if only he was. But no, Kunikida insisted he arrives unarmed, in order to not scare ‘Sofia’. Little did he know his ‘Sofia’ is the one armed here. Alas, holding Fyodor on a knife point wouldn’t solve a thing. He’d smirk and goad into action, only to turn death threats into foreplay. Intriguing, surely a challenge he wouldn’t refuse, but it wasn’t for the public.
Rushed footsteps dismayed. “What’s going on!?”, that voice sounded awfully familiar. Dazai didn’t have time to ponder on what’s going on. Next thing he knew was grabbed by the collar and vision was spinning.
Head throbbed, vertigo brought nausea. Dazai found himself swung like a rag-doll and thrown into the pavement. But that was just the beginning of his troubles, or rather aftermaths of miscalculation. Ah, this choke-hold. He knew it all too well. Kunikida really had the best timing. He really fumbled big time, didn’t he?
“You perverted cheating maniac!”, Kunikida hissed into his ear while choking the life out of him. “I leave you alone for five minutes and you have to pounce on every women you see!”, he yelled while hectically shaking him. Ouch. That hurt a lot. Dazai went limp. All hope left him. Fyodor had him fooled. Double ouch. Realization hurt more than Kunikida’s wrath.
Fortunately his partner had enough leniency even upon catching him on top of his ‘girlfriend’ in middle of a cafe. Kunikida didn’t squeeze with killing force, in spite of sizzle with rage. Clasp was loose enough for Dazai to catch breath. “It’s not like that!”, he wheezed first excuse that came to mind; aptly a cliché of all clichés. That’s why the very next thing leaving dry throat was another cliché excuse. “I swear I can explain!”
Oh he could. He really could. Fyodor’s debauched appearance is wool over eyes. After all bizarreness they’ve been through Dazai was positive Kunikida would, leastwise, listen to him. All hopes diminished, ironically, when Kunikida let him go. In one moment he was beside him, in other next to Fyodor’s huddled form. Kunikida unfastened vest and draped it over his trembling shoulders. “Are you alright Sofia-chan?”, he probed worriedly.
Nursing tender neck Dazai lounged on elbows and surveyed. With legs snuggled and arms crossed across chest Fyodor was sitting on the ground couple meters away. He shivered and sniveled; rubbed arms in dire attempt to calm down. Widened eyes glistered, likely with tears, lips quivered and slacked frame spoke of fear – glaringly fake fear. Dazai made a face, easily foreseeing where this is leading. How cheep. But pretense worked. If they were in acting class this performance would be for A+.
But they’re not, so Dazai knew he had to act before final nail is sealed into the coffin. “Don’t believe him Kunikida-kun, you’re getting -”, cough prevented him from saving own skin. After all these years the impossible happened: luck left him. Plot armor is no more, now he’ll receive an antagonist treatment.
All Dazai received of attention was a swift glare, as a writing on a wall. “I…”, Fyodor sniveled with gaze locked onto the pavement; brought Kunikida’s undivided attention, along with reassuring whispered and cajoling into speaking up. After couple sniffs Fyodor slowly lifted doe tear stained eyes, pointed finger towards him and whimpered cagily. “Dazai-san… how could you?”
Without uttering a word Kunikida stood up, face dark. Dazai’s stomach dropped. Oh shit. Kunikida rolled up his sleeves. Dazai knew very well what that meant.
“Dazai you’re dead!”
In the end Dazai survived Kunikida’s wrath, Fyodor’s fiendishness and countless arrest attempts. But his clothes, as luck would have it, did not. Between batons and Kunikida’s fists he was stripped down to the heart patterned boxers. Considering what he tried to do to Fyodor it was almost like a karma. What ironic twist of fate. When he made it to the Agency wearing nothing but boxers and shame he was met with a paper plastered on entrance door stating he’s laid off until further notice. Apparently Kunikida informed president of his misdeeds. There’s always a possibility of coming clean and disclosing depth of Fyodor’s evilness but persuasiveness points were close to nonexistent when he’s naked and covered in bruises. For now on he’ll return to his original plan for the day: finding comfort in booze. He’ll try to save Kunikida tomorrow, if he doesn’t end up lobotomized by then.
Morale of the story: Dazai thought about it for a while, but realized he’s too hammered to come with with anything sensible, let alone wise enough for textbooks. What goes around comes around, or so he supposed. Still, battle may be loss but not the war. Eye for an eye, nevermind whole world will end up blind. If hangover is manageable tomorrow morning intense shopping trip is due. He refused to let Fyodor have the last laugh.