Chapter Text
There were a lot of things that Dazai Osamu liked.
He liked alcohol and crabs and suicide, he liked music and his friends (most of the time) and - most importantly - he loved being perceived as funny and humourous. He enjoyed making his friends laugh, he loved pulling pranks on them, and found it to be undoubtedly hilarious to surprise and even unsettle them. Yes, Dazai definitely would describe himself as someone who was capable of at least somewhat enjoying things.
But of course, this also meant that there were things he didn't like as much as others, things he even didn't like at all, something that was not abnormal, of course. After all, it was only human to like certain things more than others; weightings, distributions of interests, that's how it was supposed to be. If one always looked at everything objectively, then one was hardly different in essence from an artificial intelligence or a computer that merely recorded and evaluated data. Dazai prided himself in having likes and dislikes, like a normal human being.
For example, he disliked food that was too spicy (or most foods in general). He didn’t like how it made his mouth feel - didn’t like this stinging sensation, the burning in his mouth. If one were to ask him, he’d say spicy food should definitely count as an instrument of torture. He disliked the way his body automatically and without his permission reacted to spicy food; He disliked the sweating, disliked how red his face turned, disliked the way his throat started to burn and - worst of all - he disliked getting a runny nose.
The brunet also disliked pain for obvious reasons. He disliked not being able to laze around almost as much as he disliked having nothing to do; He disliked music that was far too loud for his taste, he disliked forgetting his keys in his apartment and having to break in through his window, and he also disliked the cashier that always worked on Sunday mornings in his go-to supermarket. Yes, Dazai disliked a lot of things. But there was one thing he disliked most - he despised, even;
Dogs.
Dazai Osamu despised dogs.
There were a lot of reasons as to why Dazai disliked dogs; They were unhygienic, licking everything that’s in sight - their genitals, feces - before trying to lick one’s face. In that regard, they always managed to get dirty somehow, rolling around in dirt or - again - feces, priding themselves in smelling bad. Secondly, they were loud - full of energy, always running around and barking at everything in sight, chasing smaller animals, jumping at people as well as jumping on expensive furniture, they were whiny and most of the time incapable of relaxing, rambunctious and destructive is what they were. Thirdly, they were hard to take care of. One could never just randomly leave for a few days without having to worry about them, dogs always had to come along or stay with someone else, they required commitment. They needed to go outside three times a day, they puked, they pooped, they ate everything in sight, they shed a lot of fur - a LOT of fur - and they were expensive. They were everything Dazai didn’t like and more.
Dazai could go on and on about why he disliked dogs. He also had had bad experiences with them, but that wasn’t the most important reason.
And yet, somehow, he found himself sitting on his tiny couch with … that thing.
It panted beside him as it looked at him with impatient, waiting, almost lurking eyes. Dazai did his best to avoid its gaze, making sure there was as much distance between them as possible on his miniature couch.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Dazai asked, annoyance clear in his voice, before he sighed. The dog didn’t verbally respond, only tilted his head slightly. "I don’t have any treats." As Dazai said the magical word - ‘treats’ - out loud, though, the dog started softly wagging its tail. Annoyed, Dazai clicked his tongue. The dog’s ears pricked immediately. "Are you stupid? I said I DON’T have treats. NO. TREATS. You hear me?"
Nothing. Dazai sighed again.
"What do you want? I’m not going to pet you. Kunikida said I’d have to feed you at certain times, all of them not being right now. What else would you need?"
The dog only continued to stare at him in silence. After a few seconds, the brunet decided to dramatically lean back onto the couch.
"I don’t understand you."
And really, he found he was incapable of understanding not only dogs but also his best friend, who had decided it was a good, if not amazing, idea to leave his dog with him. Well, to be fair, that’s not what Kunikida had said when he had asked Dazai to take care of his "beloved puppy" (the dog was two years old if Dazai remembered correctly, it wasn’t anywhere close to being a ‘puppy’). On the contrary, he had looked almost as pleased as Dazai had felt. The disdain which had been clear on the younger’s face was probably the only reason Dazai hadn’t simply turned around and left when he had asked him; Not because Dazai felt bad for him, obviously, but because it seemed entertaining.
"Look, Dazai. Both you and I know that I would never ask you to take care of Kotaro if there was any other way. But there isn’t."
Kunikida stood tall in front of him with his arms crossed, the glasses that sat on his nose had slipped down a bit by now. He wore his usual suit, consisting of his well-fitting beige vest over one of his dozens of black long-sleeved dress shirts and pants that were beige as well. Today he had decided to wear his plain brown shoes and of course his red tie bow was not missing. Dazai thought this was a bit exaggerated most of the time; after all, Kunikida was just a student. Teacher in training, yes, but nonetheless, in his not exactly modest opinion, walking around in a suit all the time was a bit excessive. One would think his suit would be dirty, or at least not completely spared of stains or wrinkles, but strangely enough, that was not the case. Although Dazai eyed him very insistently, scanning the vest for the slightest imperfections, he couldn't deny that he didn't find even a hair of the dog.
Something that irritated him quite a bit - after all, the monster, which Kunikida generously referred to merely as a 'pet', was sitting behind him on a blanket intended for him. Although the dog had its eyes closed, it had its ears perked, and Dazai knew it was listening. Always alert, waiting for its owner to need it or call for it.
Dazai hated that critter.
"And why is that?" Dazai asked, his pitch not even beginning to match his facial expression; A light sing-song, melodic. But his expression betrayed how unenthusiastic he was about the whole situation. And that was already an understatement.
Dazai himself was sitting on Kunikida's couch, unlike his best friend though, he had taken off his shoes. Well, to be fair - unlike his best friend, he hadn't intended to go out either, no, he had actually intended to make himself comfortable on his couch and watch a movie. As so often, he had invited himself over for lunch, because even the presence of the dog could not stop him. Kunikida's cooking skills were too impressive for that.
It wasn't that Dazai couldn't cook. He was just... It was too much effort and too expensive for him.
"I already explained that to you!" Frustrated, Kunikida ruffled his hair, something that wasn't particularly good for his ponytail, but Dazai would be absolutely insane if he were to point it out. Dazai didn't even have to look to the critter to know that it had opened its eyes by now.
"Enlighten me. I wasn't paying attention."
"You really are impossible! How dare such a no-good brainless moron make it to YNU!"
Dazai shrugged his shoulders.
"That wasn't really all that difficult."
"Not difficult?! Normal people prepare and study for the entrance exams for over a year and you thought, 'well, I'll give it a try' and got accepted!"
"I'm very flattered, Kunikida, I love all the praise, but what does that have to do with me taking care of your mutt?"
Energetically, the blond-haired man pushed his glasses back on his nose properly before taking a breath. It wasn’t like Dazai didn’t know just how – for the lack of a better word – annoyed his best friend was by his attitude towards… well, life. According to him, Dazai never took anything seriously and yet, life kept rewarding him for his lackluster behavior.
"It's a study trip. Everyone in my course of studies is going as well. My parents live too far away and have to work, they don't have time for him. You have time. Our schedules are very similar, it wouldn't be too much of an adjustment for Kotaro and accordingly less stressful. And most importantly - he knows you. You know he hates strangers. That's just the nature of his breed. As much as I curse it, you're the only one I can turn to."
Dazai demonstratively leaned back a bit on the couch as he stretched.
"That's all well and good," he ran a hand through his hair, "but that's quite the inconvenience for yours truly. What do I get out of it?"
Many might think Dazai was materialistic - though he wouldn't argue against it, he had to say he couldn't agree fully. It wasn't that he was materialistic - in fact, he knew that material objects couldn't permanently fill the emptiness inside him and that pleasure was short-lived, so why strain to grab something new if it wasn't worth it anyway - rather, he found it entertaining to watch how others responded to his demands. He did not necessarily enjoy the suffering of others - rather it fascinated (and sometimes amused) him.
And he liked to get on Kunikida's nerves. Perhaps he did possess a discreet sadistic streak. At least his friends would not deny it.
"You can move in here for the week," Kunikida began to explain again, "I'll leave you some money, mostly for the dog. But I know you, and I know you’ll spend most of it on stupid things you want anyway. What more could you want?"
"I am appalled, you offend me! Do you really think my services can be acquired just like that?"
He could feel, perceive the twitch of the other man's eyebrow, he didn't even have to look at him for that. The sharp look in his eyes was enough of an answer already, but Kunikida apparently wasn’t aware of that.
"Yes, of course!"
"That's where you're wrong, Kunikida! I want something special."
At last he rose - but not without stretching one more time.
It wasn't his fault that his body kept aching or feeling limp - well, maybe it was his fault. He’d deny it anyway if someone were to ask, however.
While he was stretching, he noticed out of the corner of his eye how the dog had stood up - and although its name implied it was small, Dazai had to realize once again with something akin to horror that it was anything but that, small, tiny. Well, okay. It wasn't exactly big either - looking at it, Dazai would guess that it weighed something around ten kilograms. But for the brown-haired man's taste it was still too big, too present, too much... dog.
From watchful, almost vicious eyes, the dog, whose fur color resembled the color of well-ripened wheat, stared at Dazai as it joined its owner, standing beside him. Absent-minded, Kunikida petted it briefly.
"After all, I hate dogs and you know it. All the money in the world and even your great apartment can't convince me. I want something else."
"What," Kunikida's voice was strained, he sounded like he was about to either explode or resign, and Dazai hoped for the former, "do you want, Dazai?"
"A favor."
Silence reigned for a moment, then Kunikida's aghast gaze met his.
"A favor? What kind of favor?"
Dazai grinned, and he could tell immediately that Kunikida was sure this was not a good sign.
"Where would be the fun in just telling you? You owe me something, that's what I want. Something, a service you cannot refuse, no matter what it's about."
"Never."
Dazai shrugged his shoulders in false indifference as he dropped back onto the couch.
The mutt growled and Dazai glanced at Kunikida - Kunikida cursed underneath his breath, the timing couldn't have been worse. The blond-haired man knew as well as he did that Dazai wasn't necessarily wrong; Kotaro - as well-mannered as it might be - was not an easy dog. Really, it did not like anyone except Kunikida. The rest was only tolerated. Dazai was no exception.
"Well, then, find someone else to do it!" He clapped his hands, startling not only the canine but his best friend as well. "So, when's dinner? That's the actual reason as to why I'm here, after all!"
Kunikida stared at him. It was obvious that he would like to strangle him. For a second, Dazai did not doubt that he would. It wouldn't be the first time.
But then he sighed heavily.
"All right. It seems I have no choice but to agree. But nothing illegal!"
Dazai grinned triumphantly. Of course the blond-haired man gave in, he always did.
"That, my dear, is not for you to decide!"
And he rose again - but this time with more vigor, literally leaping to his feet, startling the other two creatures in the room once more - and held out his left hand to Kunikida.
"It's a deal, then?"
Kunikida pushed his glasses up another time, though they hadn't slipped.
"Maybe I'd better draw up a contract..."
"Do you really have time for that, won't it mess up your schedule?"
Apparently, it did not. Kunikida had, in fact, scheduled in enough time for a contract. Maybe it could turn out to be quite entertaining.
Entertaining, yeah, sure. Now he regretted his recklessness, his foolish naivety, his willfulness to do whatever on a whim just because.
He shot the panting pile of fur next to him another glare that he hoped might be able to kill. Unfortunately, the monster didn't just drop dead, so it must not have worked.
What a shame.
Not that it would have been any good, really - his best friend would have actually strangled him to death this time, had he been the reason for the dog's demise. Or had the mutt croaked while in his care, that would have been bad enough already.
Whereas, now that he thought about it, that didn't seem too bad of a way to die. Getting choked to death by one of his most trusted, most beloved friends seemed almost as fine as dying by a pretty woman’s hands, after all.
Dazai wouldn't really describe himself as actively suicidal, though his friends would probably beg to differ - did he want to die? On good days, just a little. Did he have many good days? Hmmm, questionable. Did he try to end his life on multiple occasions? Mayhaps. Was death his number one solution for any kind of problem, no matter the severity? Ding ding ding! Correct. If anyone managed to guess this one right, they were now the lucky owner of a new washing machine, just in case they tried to wash their dirty shoes in their former one and managed to ruin it that way.
Not that Dazai had ever tried that. He didn’t wash his shoes. He also didn’t have a washing machine.
He also couldn’t afford to buy one - thus, his friends, who were most likely the only ones to get this one correct, would have to make do with a hypothetical, an imaginary washing machine.
He felt like that just wouldn’t do. Maybe they’d forgive him if he tried to drown himself in the river near their university again. –That was obviously a joke, he wasn’t that bad of a friend.
All jokes aside, though, Dazai was not actively trying to die at the moment. Of course he still had his moments - Kunikida forbid him from calling them his "oopsie" moments as he was under the impression that would "downplay" those "serious events", something that Dazai very much intended on doing by making fun of them, which, in turn, was something Kunikida couldn’t seem to grasp - but that didn’t mean that he was actively trying to end his life most of the time. He didn’t really have the time for that.
Of course, Dazai wouldn’t describe himself as extraordinarily busy at the moment, though he still felt like he was running out of time for some reason or another. He didn’t dare to mention that he spent most days laying in his futon and staring at the ceiling for hours on end, his university assignments, the essays he had to write and whatnot, for the mere observer arbitrarily distributed everywhere throughout his tiny room, either already finished or waiting for their turn to get done. Most of the time, Dazai wasn’t even sure why he bothered with all of these assignments, they tended to be awfully boring. However, it wasn’t like he had anything better to do, and there were certain moments in which he’d do nearly anything to distract himself, to keep himself – his mind – busy. Said "moments" usually arrived in the middle of the night, never before the clock strikes midnight, most of the time not even before two in the morning - Dazai was, contrary to what most people liked to believe, a night owl. Kunikida always thought he spent most of his time sleeping and lazing around, something Dazai couldn’t really blame him for as he understood where this misconception was coming from. He did tend to doze off around his friends from time to time, though he also enjoyed just closing his eyes and existing around them, listening to music or sometimes even just them going on with their day.
Kunikida tended to type furiously on his laptop, no matter what he was doing - if he was writing an essay, an email, an academic research paper, or simply chatted with a friend of his online, it did not matter, not even in the slightest. Sometimes, he was on the phone with someone, though he usually made sure to leave the room if he thought Dazai was sleeping.
Yosano, another friend of his he met during his last year of school and who somehow ended up liking him even though he couldn’t deny he was sort of a prick during his school years, usually used the time Dazai lazed around to study. She somehow seemed to know he was not actually sleeping - honestly, he didn’t expect anything else, she was studying medicine and wanted to become a doctor, after all - but never complained, seeming to understand he sometimes needed some time to calm down.
Ranpo just scrolled through his phone, not really caring about showing consideration and thoughtfulness towards Dazai by trying to make less noise or anything. Not like Dazai expected him to, that just wouldn’t fit the Ranpo that he knew and got along with.
Of course, he had some other friends, too - the Tanizakis for example - but after his studies began, he stopped seeing them as often. There was one friend he recently made, though, a younger man who was currently preparing for the entrance exam of the same university Dazai was going to. His name was Nakajima Atsushi and he sure was … something.
Dazai gently shook his head, catching the attention of the dog once again. Not like that thing ever stopped staring at him.
"Okay, fine. What do you want? A treat?"
The ears of that thing perked up and he contained his chuckle. Dogs were so stupid. All they wanted were treats and going on stupid little walks.
How truly annoying. Kunikida really owed him something.
"Well, will you stop staring at me if I give you some?"
The dog, obviously, did not respond and even though Dazai somehow doubted it’d stop being bothersome, he still got up - not without groaning sorrowfully - and made his way to the table on which the things Kunikida left him for the dog were located.
For his taste, there were way too many things he apparently "needed" to take care of the dog.
A fur brush, a bag of finely chopped treats, the origin of which he did not even try to fathom, although if one were to go by the smell alone, it certainly once had something to do with an ox, three different leashes and matching collars as well as harnesses, a pair of tweezers for ticks, important documents in a pretty but plain folder, poo bags, lots of them even, and fifty thousand yen for emergencies. Honestly, Dazai didn’t really understand why he had to take all those things to his apartment – including the dog – if he was going to stay at Kunikida’s place for the time being anyway but ah well.
Dazai opened the bag of treats and ignored the dog rising to its feet, jumping off the couch and sitting down next to the table. He also tried to ignore its gaze on him, lurking, waiting.