Work Text:
Out of all the things Dazai had expected to see that day, his protégé wearing a skirt was not one of them.
He had been leaning back at his desk, headphones on and playing music to drown out the general chaos of the office. Kunikida was pestering him, but Dazai opted to ignore him, instead spinning himself around in his chair. The taller man eventually tried to take his headphones, but Dazai simply scooted his chair away with a smirk. Kunikida glared at him.
"Seriously? How old are you again?"
Dazai simply shrugged and went back to spinning, nodding his head to the beat of his music. Yosano glanced over and shook her head, an affectionate little smile on her lips. Yeah, they were dumbasses, but they were her dumbasses.
The snatching and dodging went on for a couple more minutes, the two of them eventually ending up with Dazai backed against the desk and Kunikida's hands being pushed back. The darker haired man smirked at the look on the other's face, somewhere between amusement and irritation. He opened his mouth to say something to Kunikida, but he was unfortunately cut off by the office door opening. Dazai let his head fall back to see who it was, and...
Was left speechless.
His guard was down, allowing Kunikida to free his hands and finally snatch Dazai's headphones away, but the man didn't care. He was still trying to process what he was seeing.
Atsushi Nakajima was wearing a skirt.
It was long, and black, and came to Atsushi's shins. It was pleated at the waist, causing folds in the fabric, not unlike Naomi's uniform. He had worn his belt and suspenders as well, and if Dazai was being perfectly honest, Atsushi looked nice.
What are you talking about? He's a man. Men don't wear skirts.
Kyouka had come in with Atsushi, and was now looking at Dazai with a slight glare; he blinked, realizing he had been staring. She must think he was judging the boy now. Or maybe the look was because he was still bent backwards over his desk. Righting himself, Dazai pulled his chair back over to his desk and sat back down, tuning in to the conversation at hand.
"...was Kyouka's idea," Atsushi was saying to Yosano. The boy seemed a bit flustered by the attention. "She wanted me to model something for her, and..." He looked down at himself, flapping the fabric of the skirt a bit. "This ended up being my outfit for the day. It's kind of nice, honestly," he finished with a shy smile. Kyouka nodded, confirming the story. Yosano smiled back.
"It looks good on you, kid," she replied, glancing at Kunikida mischievously. "Although, now you have me wondering how Kunikida-san would look in a skirt."
The blonde, now back in his own seat, simply shook his head. "Unfortunately for you, I don't own any clothing of that sort."
"I could lend you something!" Yosano offered.
Kunikida looked up at her. He was quiet for a moment before turning back to his computer.
"If you want to."
Yosano's face lit up, her mouth opening in a small expression of shock.
"I meant it as a joke, but if you're down for it then I'll definitely be doing that."
Dazai watched the whole interaction with conflicting feelings. On one hand, Atsushi looked really good, and he seemed pleased; it was nice to see the kid expressing himself and having a good time while he did so, especially when it brought him closer to the other members of the Agency.
On the other hand, however, all he could think of was how inherently wrong it was.
The next day, Kunikida came into the office following a very pleased-looking Yosano. Dazai nearly choked.
He was wearing a skirt.
This one was a dark green, and came all the way to his ankles.
Dazai felt himself freeze up, staring at the taller man. He could hear everyone talking, knew what they were talking about, but all he could register was the blood rushing in his ears and his own thoughts.
What the fuck?
This is wrong.
He shouldn't be wearing womens' clothing.
He's a man.
Why does he look nice?
This is wrong.
This is wrong.
This is wrong.
"Dazai?"
A soft voice jolted him out of his mind. Looking up, he saw his protégé looking down at him with a concerned expression. It was then that Dazai realized he was breathing too quickly, too much.
At least he was wearing normal pants today, like men should.
"Are you alright? I've got my inhaler in my desk, if you need it..."
Get it the fuck together, Osamu.
"Ah, I'm alright, Atsushi-kun," he replied, his voice shaking despite his best efforts to hide it. "I appreciate the offer, though."
The weretiger gave him a worried, slightly dubious look, before deeming it wise not to push the matter and making his way over to his own desk.
"...don't hate it," Kunikida was saying. "I don't think I'll wear it again, though. It's highly impractical for my style of doing things, especially with the length of it."
Yosano nodded and smiled. "I didn't honestly expect you to go through with it," she replied with a shrug. "They're not for everyone, I get it. Still, I think it's pretty neat that you gave it a shot anyway."
Naomi nodded agreement, glancing mischievously at Junichirou. The poor guy looked worried.
The next day, Junichirou came into the office wearing a skirt.
His was shorter than the others, ending above his knees. It was white. It must've been borrowed from his sister. He wore his usual jeans underneath it, with his hoodie around his waist like normal as well.
He looked nice.
Disgusting.
Dazai had a panic attack in the bathroom on his lunch break.
The day after that, Ranpo came in wearing a long fuzzy skirt. It was brown and plaid. He looked comfy. And cute.
Fukuzawa had come in with him, a bemused look on his face as Ranpo did a little twirl for Naomi. The older man had a ribbon in his hair.
Dazai wondered if Ranpo was as comfy as he looked.
What the fuck.
Dazai had to rewrap his bandages that night before bed.
The next morning, Kenji came in with a colorful knit shawl around his shoulders. The others were confused, until he explained.
"It's not really common in my village for the women to wear skirts besides old ladies and little girls, since the women help with the yardwork," he said to Yosano, who had asked about the shawl. "But a lot of them wear stuff like this so they don't get too cold! Miss Maeda let me borrow this one."
Dazai stood from his desk abruptly, not caring that everyone gave him odd looks. He needed to get out of there.
"I need to use the bathroom," he breathed out, hurrying out the door and down the hall.
When he reached the bathroom, Dazai went to the last stall and locked himself inside, sliding down the wall and to the floor. He didn't care how dirty it was, it was cold and grounding. He couldn't tell what this painful feeling in his chest was. It felt somewhere between disgust and jealousy.
Jealousy? Jealous of what? The fact that your coworkers don't mind looking like faggots?
Dazai gasped, a small sob slipping past the hand covering his mouth. His chest hurt. He fisted his free hand in his hair, gnawing on one of his knuckles.
This is stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid stupid stupid-
The bathroom door opened, and Dazai sobbed again. This was it. There goes all his dignity. He was about to be found crying on the bathroom floor like a teenage girl because he wanted to wear a skirt.
"Dazai?" A gentle voice called out. "What's going on with you?"
Heels clicked on the tile floor, approaching the stall he was hiding in.
Heels?
"You're not supposed to be in here," Dazai choked out.
"Do I seem like I give a shit?"
Yosano stopped outside the stall. "You need to breathe, Dazai."
"I'm pretty sure my problem right now is breathing too much," he tried to joke. It didn't have much effect, seeing as though he was gasping after every syllable. Yosano sighed.
"Come on, Dazai. In and out. You can do it."
Shakily, he drew in a deeper breath, letting it out slowly.
"There you go. Just a few more, yeah? In and out, that's it..."
Slowly, Dazai calmed down, his breathing evening out. He let his head fall back with a soft thud as it hit the wall behind him.
"Can you let me in?" Yosano asked after a few moments, voice slightly exasperated but gentle. Dazai stood shakily and undid the latch, stepping back and letting her push the door open herself. He probably looked like a mess. Yosano glanced in, then gave a soft sigh and stepped further into the stall. She grabbed some toilet paper and handed it to him.
"Wipe your face off," she told him softly, waiting for him to blow his nose before continuing.
"What's going on? You've been off all week."
Dazai looked down, running his fingers over the teeth marks on his hand. Yosano glanced down as well, taking his hand.
"Now, why'd you do that, hm?"
He shrugged.
"Does this have anything to do with the guys wearing skirts to work the last couple of days?"
He hesitated, but nodded.
"Do you have a problem with them doing that?"
He shook his head this time.
"Would you like it if I lent you a skirt too?"
Another nod, more tears making their way down Dazai's cheeks. Yosano smiled gently and pulled him into a hug.
"You wanna come home with me tonight so you can pick one out?"
"...mhm."
Dazai stood in front of a full-length mirror in Yosano's bedroom, wearing his usual sweater and a pair of shorts. His coat was draped over her bed so it didn't get in the way. The woman was going through her closet. Dazai stared at the bandages winding down his legs.
"What length were you thinking?" Yosano asked, dumping an armful of clothing on the bed.
Dazai turned to look at her. "I guess... Something like the one Atsushi had." Yosano nodded, pulling a white skirt from the pile of cloth and walking over to him.
"Turn around for me?"
Dazai turned back to face the mirror, and Yosano held the skirt up to his waist. "What do you think of this one?"
He stared for a moment, then shook his head. "Not a fan of the white."
"Alright... How about this one?"
She grabbed another one, this one red with a bit of a frill at the bottom. "Yes or no?"
"No."
She nodded again, discarding the red one as well. "How do we feel about black?"
"Black's fine."
Yosano hummed, coming back over to him and handing him a black bundle. "Try this one on."
Dazai took it from her, a bit confused. "How do I...?"
"Oh!" Yosano took it back from him. "Here, I'll help you. There, just step in... Lean on me if you have to, there you go!"
She adjusted the skirt so it was centered properly. "What do you think?"
Dazai just stared at his reflection. This skirt was black and was cinched slightly at the waist, causing the rest of the fabric to have gentle waves in it. There was a white and yellow daisy embroidered on the left side of the hem, and green leaves circling the rest of it. He felt his eyes start to well up, his vision blurring slightly. Yosano looked at him.
"What's wrong? Don't like it?"
Dazai shook his head, taking her hand and squeezing it to help ground himself.
"It's perfect."
Yosano smiled.
Dazai hummed along with the music playing through his headphones as he worked, tapping away at his keyboard.
Kunikida had thrown him a few strange looks throughout the morning, a bit puzzled as to why Dazai was actually working for once instead of dicking around, but he certainly wasn't going to complain about it. The man looked pretty content, in all honesty; he had a faint little smile on his face as he worked, bouncing his leg slightly under his desk. His bandages showed under the hem of the skirt that he was wearing that day.
Yosano leaned against Kunikida's desk with a smile, and the man looked up at her.
"The hell did you do to him?"
She just laughed softly. "I didn't do anything. I just let him borrow one of my skirts."
"Yes, I was wondering about that. It's nice to see him expressing himself a bit more."
Yosano hummed agreement. "I think I'll let him keep that one."
Kunikida let a soft smile show on his face.
"I think that's a good idea."