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Doppo was tired.
Not the normal tired from work, slowly-drowning-in-paperwork, up-all-night-at-a-stakeout-tired. No.
He was tired-from-dealing-with-Dazai tired which was so much worse.
The man in question looked back at him over stacks of manila folders containing meticulous notes on every case they had ever worked—all of which had been written by Doppo because his business partner seemed to be allergic to paperwork. The piles were reaching a considerable height (much to Doppo’s pride) and he looked forward to sorting through them once they could afford an office that was big enough to accommodate a proper filing system. The shithole they were in now barely fit the desk they were seated at. Dazai didn’t even have a designated chair; right now he was sitting in the one they offered to clients.
Dazai. His knees were drawn up to his chest and he blinked those big brown eyes at Doppo as if he hadn’t just uttered the most harebrained, idiotic idea that Doppo had ever heard. And coming from Dazai, that was saying something.
Doppo breathed out heavily through his nose.
“No.”
“Please?”
“No!” Doppo lifted his glasses so that he could rub his eyes. “Dazai, do you realize what you’re asking for?”
“The mental wellbeing of my adopted child?”
“Now you call him your child. Last week you called him a stray raccoon!”
“Because I first found him—”
“Stealing out of your garbage. I am well aware.”
“But I’ll love him as my own. So?”
Doppo clenched a pen in his hand, wishing it were worth the trouble to jab it into Dazai’s neck.
“The answer is still no.”
Dazai whined—honest to God whined—as if he were the one suffering here.
“Kunikidaaaaa…”
“Allow me to enumerate all of the ways that this is a bad idea. Number one: you want to do surveillance on the subject who is a child. In other words, you want to hang around the school and watch her movements somehow without ending up on an FBI watchlist.”
“My kid goes to that school. That eliminates any creepiness.” Dazai crossed his arms and sat back in his chair with a triumphant look on his face.
“A kid that you have no legal guardianship of,” Doppo countered. He wasn’t entirely sure how Dazai had gotten Atsushi enrolled in the first place, but asking sounded like a headache waiting to happen.
“Second,” he plowed on before Dazi could come up with some mind-numbing way to continue trying to justify staking out the school. “Interfering with Atsushi’s interpersonal relationships which may damage his reputation at school and negatively affect his mental development.”
“It sounds like you want me to just let him get bullied.”
“He never said that this Lucy was a bully, only that she didn’t like him. And even if he is being bullied, then he has an opportunity to learn how to stand up for himself. In that case there are healthy ways that you can coach him through—”
“Kunikida, do you hear yourself? She doesn’t like him? Doesn’t like Atsushi? Clearly, she’s insane. We’d be doing the world a favor getting this villain off the streets.”
“Again,” Doppo said, barely restraining himself from throttling Dazai. “She is a child. There will be no ‘getting her off the streets.’ Besides, we may be perceiving this entirely incorrectly. As I understand it, it is quite common for young people—especially young ladies—to disguise affection with acts of aggression. It’s possible she does like Atsushi and is simply too embarrassed to let him know it.”
The corners of Dazai’s mouth quirked up. “Is that your way of saying that you secretly like me, Kunikida?”
He physically felt his blood pressure rise.
“Never in a million years.”
The teasing smile was quickly wiped from Dazai’s face to be replaced with a disgusted expression as he considered Doppo’s suggestion.
“That’s even worse! I won’t allow Atsushi to date anyone that crazy.”
“No one said anything about dating,” Doppo said under his breath. Dazai heard him anyway.
“You know how it’ll go. She’ll make up some reason he just has to go to a park with her, even though she makes it clear he is the very last person on earth she wants to go with, and then she’ll passive aggressively trick him into buying her crepes—”
“Crepes?”
“Crepes. And a teddy bear. And everyone will fawn over how cute they are as a couple, and Atsushi will be too embarrassed to correct them and Lucy won’t bother correcting them because she’s secretly getting what she wanted. And then at the end of it, she’ll say she’d do this with him again because it actually wasn’t terrible, and Atsushi will be too much of a gentleman to refuse. Before you know it, he’ll have fallen right into her trap and they’ll be dating. He’ll be miserable.”
“You’ve thought too much about this,” Doppo said, unsure how that was even possible. Until a moment ago, Dazai hadn’t even seemed to consider the possibility that Lucy was a tsundere. He didn’t have a death wish, so he didn’t bring up Chuuya and that whole situationship. If he had to sit through a session of Dazai trying to justify his bad choices, he would be tempted to throw himself out the window. Thankfully, Chuuya’s “job” (Doppo was half convinced that he was secretly a mob boss) seemed to have kept him away for the past seven months, so the red-haired delinquent had yet to make any kind of influence on Atsushi. Small blessings.
“All the more reason that Atsushi should stay away from her,” Dazai said, pulling Doppo back to the matter at hand. “If she’s being cruel to him, then he shouldn’t have to deal with that.”
Doppo nodded. At long last Dazai was sounding reasonable. “Then you should express you concerns to hi—”
“So, I just need to take her aside and explain to her that if she messes with my kid, she’ll find herself in an oil drum at the bottom of the ocean.”
Doppo had a strict rule of never losing his composure, so he didn’t drop his head to the desk and scream into the wood, but it was a close thing.
“That brings us to reason number three that you should not do this: threatening a child. I shouldn’t have to explain why that is a terrible idea, but based on the way this conversation has gone, I might be required to!”
“A little bit of threatening builds character,” Dazai said cheerfully.
Doppo’s (already thin) strand of patience snapped. He lunged across the desk and seized Dazai by the lapels.
“Dazai,” he hissed an inch away from the other man’s face. “Let me make this vey clear. You may be an idiot, and that’s all fine and dandy when you’re the only one affected, but your name is attached to this agency. I will not let you jeopardize the reputation of this establishment. If you breathe one more word of this imbecilic idea of yours, so help me God, I will turn you in to the police myself and testify for your life sentence. Do you understand?”
The clarity in Dazai’s eyes was unnerving, but Doppo didn’t flinch. For once, the other man showed the good sense to not make any kind of quip. After a long pause, he nodded slowly.
Doppo released him and straightened his suit as he sank back into his own chair. “Good.”
Dazai let his head loll against the back of his chair. “You’re right, Kunikida. I can’t control every part of Atsushi’s life and he’s bound to run into people who aren’t kind. He needs to learn how to stand up for himself.”
“Exactly.” It wasn’t often that Dazai admitted he was right. Doppo should feel some kind of triumph, but instead he was just exhausted. Why it took so much of his energy to make Dazai see reason, he would never know. On the bright side, in the six months since Atsushi’s arrival into his life, Dazai had slowly become more… well, “sane” would never be the word to describe Dazai Osamu, but he was more willing to listen to sense.
Silence stretched for a good ten minutes. Doppo was certainly not eager to take up the mantle of conversation and Dazai seemed content to stare at the ceiling. Doppo reached for the file nearest to him and continued the notes he’d been making before this whole debacle.
“I may not be in tomorrow.” The silence shattered. Doppo looked over his glasses at his partner. Dazai still seemed to be fascinated by the water stains above him.
“I might have a lead on the Sugimoto case that bears investigating.”
“It’d be nice if you got to it before that snot-nosed kid.” Some twenty-something so called “genius” detective had a habit of stealing their cases lately. One police officer had claimed that he could solve a murder case in under a minute. Doppo hadn’t met the guy personally, but he’d love a minute alone with him to give him a piece of his mind.
Dazai actually laughed. “You have a lot of faith in me, Kunikida. I knew you were secretly soft.”
Doppo cast around for something to throw at his head, but found nothing sufficient. “Be sure to review the file before you go.”
He couldn’t help but smirk as Dazai’s expression immediately clouded.
“Fiiiine. Which one is it? I can’t find anything in this mess.”
“That one.” Doppo pointed out The fifth folder down of Parchment Color No. 2 in Pile B. Really, it wasn’t that hard.
Dazai dug out the folder, nearly toppling the pile (Doppo leapt forward with an expletive to catch it), and stood. He waved the file about in a theatrical flourish.
“Well, I have a night of studying to get started on. I’ll head home.”
Doppo very carefully put the Leaning Tower of Files back to rights. He was holding the top under his chin, praying that it didn’t slip out onto the floor. “Get out of here, you waste of bandages.”
Dazai laughed again. “Good night, Kunikida.”
The door clicked shut behind him. Dazai was gone and Kunikida could finally have some peace.
…
It was too quiet.
Doppo had had a rather enjoyable morning. He’d bought himself a muffin on his way into the office. The beautiful and kind woman behind the counter had complimented his suit. He’d met with a client who had a promising case. His organization system was still intact in spite of Dazai’s carelessness, and he’d been able to finish three reports he’d meant to have done by the beginning of the week (as usual, it was Dazai’s fault that he got sidetracked.)
Without Dazai in the office, he was able to get considerably more done. It was almost enough to make him weep for joy.
At least… until he finished his third report and was about to start his research for the new client. In the interim between the last task and the next, he paused. It wasn’t anything in particular that raised his hackles. The office was silent, save for the noise of cars outside and the ticking of the clock on the wall. The most noticeable sound (or lack thereof) was the conspicuous absence of Dazai. The clock seemed to be counting down the seconds until he returned.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
He didn’t know why it unsettled him. Dazai was often away from the office and for longer periods of time than a mere few hours. This wasn’t unusual.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
It was peaceful without him. And Doppo should be reveling in the opportunity to be productive, but something was scratching at his brain telling him that this wasn’t right. Something was off…
Tick. Tick. Tick.
His thoughts traveled over the conversation from yesterday. Dazai was checking up on a lead for a case. That was fine. He’d been understandably worried about Atsushi’s relationships at school, but he’d dropped the matter about Lucy…
TICK. TICK. TICK.
Dazai didn’t give up on things. He didn’t admit when Doppo was right. Never in their time as business partners did Dazai ever let Doppo’s opinion stop him from doing something he wanted to do.
Somewhere in the distance, a church bell rang out signaling the hour.
“DAZAI!”
Doppo thundered out of the building, scaring some poor secretary from another office and causing her to spill papers all over the floor. Ten minutes later, he was at the train station.
This time, Doppo was really going to kill him.
…
It was a thirty minute train ride from the office to Atsushi’s school. Doppo spent the entire ride seething and fantasizing about how he would bash Dazai’s head in with a rock. He barely noticed the wary glances people cast his way and he even less barely cared if he looked like a serial killer.
He was slowed down even more by the crowd at the station. Even if some people jumped out of the way when they saw him charging like a raging bull, he still had to go around a lot of them. And then there was the matter of finding Atsushi’s school, which he’d never actually been to before. The poor policeman was quaking like a leaf as he gave him directions.
“B-but I don’t know if that’ll be much good to you sir!” The policeman called after him as Doppo stormed away. “The school day’s just about over!”
True to the policeman’s word, Doppo heard the school bell screeching out as the building came into view. By the time he’d crossed the street and approached the gate, students were flowing out in a river. Doppo stepped aside to avoid being swept away by the current. His eyes scanned the students, but what he was looking for wasn’t here. Where would Dazai be? A good vantage point… Somewhere he could see without being seen…
“Kunikida-san?”
Doppo turned to see none other than the source of all this trouble. The Atsushi that stood before him was a far cry from the timid orphan Dazai had taken in six months ago that resembled a drowned kitten more than a schoolboy. Six months had put color in his cheeks and meat on his bones, though a stout enough wind could still carry him away. His bangs were still atrocious (proof that Dazai should not be allowed to handle sharp objects), but he was overall put together. His school bag was slung over one shoulder. Standing at the other, almost with an assassin’s gleam in her eye, was a girl with long black pigtails. Each one had a white lily tucked into the band. Was this Lucy? No… she wasn’t at all the character that Dazai had haphazardly relayed to him, and they looked far too comfortable around each other. Doppo recalled another friend Atsushi had mentioned who often put flowers in her hair. Kyouka?
Atsushi still bowed as if he hadn’t seen Doppo scream bloody murder at his adoptive father figure.
“I didn’t know you were into baseball, Kunikida-san.”
Somewhere a puzzle was being put together and one of Doppo’s braincells was scurrying around searching for the last piece.
“What makes you think I am?”
Atsushi cocked his head. “Dazai said you were going to watch the game together. He told me to tell you to meet him by right field.”
“When did you see him?” Doppo snapped. Atsushi started at the shift in tone.
“This morning before I left? H-he said he would be in the area today anyway because he was looking into a case…”
“Did he say anything else? Anything unusual?”
“No—well…” Atsushi’s brow furrowed. “He asked if I was okay.”
That gave Doppo pause. “And are you?”
The smile Atsushi gave him would have been heartwarming if Doppo’s mind weren’t blazing with Dazai-related fury right now.
“I’m better than I’ve ever been, Kunikida-san. The whole reason he asked was because one of our classmates and I… We had a misunderstanding, but it’s all cleared up now anyway. In fact, we’re going to go watch her play.”
The piece snapped into its spot.
“I see. Well, you don’t want to be late. I suspect Dazai and I won’t stay for the whole game. He gets bored easily.”
“I hope you enjoy yourself, Kunikida-san.”
Doppo almost turned away, but thought better of it at the last second.
“Atsushi.” He fished his wallet out of his pocket, glad he’d been clear-minded enough to grab it on his way out. He took out a few bills and offered them out to the boy. I understand that concessions are sold at these events. Be sure to buy something besides candy.”
Atsushi stepped away like the money was poisoned. “No! I-I couldn’t--!
“You will because I am telling you to take it.”
Kyouka took the money, eyes wide as saucers. “I want crepes.”
That was good enough for him.
…
Doppo was truly not a fan of baseball. In principal, the game was fine. It was just… long. Nine innings was excessive, and the activities in between tended to be cringey.
“I hope I don’t have to lie to Atsushi for the remainder of my life.”
Dazai’s mouth curled into a smile. “That’s entirely up to you.”
A chain link fence separated them from the school’s field and gave them an excellent view of home plate. To their right, a kid who clearly couldn’t think of any other club to join was making himself comfortable for cloud watching.
“That’s her,” Dazai said in response to Doppo’s unasked question, nodding to the girl stepping up to bat. Her red hair looked barely contained by her two braids, so poofy that the helmet might just pop right off her head.
The pitch was way too wide. Lucy didn’t even bother to swing.
Something nudged Doppo’s hand. A manila folder appeared in his vision. Dazai’s eyes were still on the game.
“What’s this?”
“Our new intel on the Sugimoto case. Jury’s still out on whether we’ll solve it before that snot-nosed detective.”
Doppo took the folder. A quick glance was all it took to know that there was new information inside.
“You actually did your work.”
“Kunikida, you wound me. I have bills to pay and a stray raccoon to feed.”
The bat hit the ball with a solid thwack! Lucy ran like her life depended on it. The crowd cheered as she plowed into first base.
“And you took my advice.”
“I can’t recall ever doing that.”
Doppo reigned in the expletive that threatened to burst out of his mouth. Why had he ever expected Dazai not to be Dazai?
“Well, maybe you don’t remember me saying it because you barely let me get through the sentence, but you talked to Atsushi about the issue. You let him handle it. And you didn’t spy on a child.”
“Really, who would even suggest such a thing? That would get you on an FBI watchlist for sure.”
They stood in silence as another batter came up to bat. And another. Lucy was on third before either of them spoke again.
“I have no idea what I’m doing, Doppo.”
The use of his given name caught him completely off guard. He couldn’t remember Dazai ever using it before. Looking at the man now, there was no smirk, no teasing glint, no flippant remark on the tip of his tongue. His features were the same, and yet Doppo felt like he was looking at a completely different person. Like a mask had been taken off.
“You’re doing your best,” Doppo said softly. “I don’t say this lightly; it’s pretty damn good.”
If he hadn’t spent years honing his observational skills, he may not have noticed that Dazai’s hands were shaking.
“I’m fucked in the head,” he said with a mirthless laugh. “Don’t say I’m not—I know I am. And I don’t want Atsushi to end up the same way because of me.”
“I’m better than I’ve ever been.” Could Dazai not see that? Or could he just refuse to accept his part in it?
A jaunty tune from the speakers signaled a homerun.
“I would never say your brain isn’t scrambled,” Doppo said. “But don’t be so conceited as to think you’ll be entirely responsible for Atsushi’s happiness. When you can’t be there, I will be. Or Kyouka. Or maybe even Lucy. He’s not alone anymore. And stop beating yourself up for things that haven’t even happened. Besides—”
From their vantage point they could see Atsushi and Kyouka cheering on a furiously blushing, redheaded batter.
“—I think he’s doing just fine.”