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Akutagawa moved sluggishly, out of shape even for the scrawny kid he was. And as Dazai sent him sprawling onto the ground once again, a quiet sigh left him. It was more a chore training Akutagawa than anything else; so pathetic that it felt like bullying. When Dazai kicked him down for the nth time Akutagawa struggled to even sit up, grasping at the concrete floor desperately, all with a feverish sheen across his face.
"This isn't efficient." Dazai said suddenly, swiftly, startling himself too. Akutagawa’s head snapped up too fast and Dazai could practically see the stars dancing through his eyes.
"Sorry?" He whispered hoarsely. The boy looked guilt-stricken; caught red handed underperforming. Akutagawa was in no fit state to train, and Dazai told him exactly such.
"Go home Akutagawa. You're useless to me here." Akutagawa's dark eyes widened, looking like a kicked puppy—an expression often on his face. Dazai despised it, it grabbed at his insides, making his gut churn angrily.
"Shoo, dog. Don't you know how to follow your master's commands?" Even now the taunts glided effortlessly from his mouth as he stalked closer to the boy, looming over him. Akutagawa flinched, cowering away. Dazai clicked his teeth. "Get up."
Akutagawa scrambled to his feet—and went down just as fast, knees buckling in the way Dazai knew they would. He grabbed the boy’s arm, hauling him upright again. Akutagawa panicked. "I can stand- it's alright-"
"Shut up." Dazai said numbly. Akutagawa's incessant whining grated on his nerves. He bent down, grunting as he hooked an arm around Akutagawa's legs and hoisted him into his arms. He weighed as much as a healthy ten year old which, to say, wasn't a light weight in itself, but severely less than ideal for someone aged fifteen.
Dazai had been slacking off of exercise recently, and he could feel the result. He shifted so that the brunt of the weight went onto his shoulder. Akutagawa yelled in protest, struggling despite being too weak to even stand on his own, acting as if he was actively being kidnapped. Dazai had half a mind to drop him on his head.
"Akutagawa." Dazai hissed. Akutagawa went rigid, then pliant. He wouldn't dare disobey Dazai. Small satisfaction bloomed in his chest at the fact.
Akutagawa's breathing became quicker as Dazai approached main building. "No please." Akutagawa squirmed as Dazai pushed open the door. Dazai didn't bother responding. "I'm sorry, please let me down." Dazai shot him a scathing look. "They can't see me like this. It's embarrassing." As if people hadn't seen him in worse conditions after training.
"You wouldn't have to be embarrassed if you had the sense to look after yourself." Dazai snapped. "Do you think I'm parading around your weakness for fun?" Akutagawa buried his face into the executive's shoulder. Dazai let him.
By the time they reached Akutagawa’s home, Dazai’s arms were burning from exertion and Akutagawa had fallen fast asleep. He debated leaving the boy on the doorstep, but as night closed in the temperature dropped steadily and well, he didn’t want to make Akutagawa’s cold worse.
“Hey.” He nudged Akutagawa with his chin, “I need your keys.” Truth be told, Dazai had a copy of Akutagawa’s keys somewhere in his pockets—somewhere. Akutagawa stirred, blearily looking up at him.
“Keys.”
The command seemed to rouse Akutagawa, because the boy immediately tried to wriggle out of Dazai’s grasp. “I’m okay now, sir, you don’t have to—“
“Don’t make me repeat myself.”
Akutagawa muted, bringing out his keys from a pocket. Dazai set him down gently, choosing to ignore the way he leant against the wall for support. Dazai grabbed Akutagawa by the waist to steady him as they entered the home. The younger had given up arguing now, simply letting Dazai guide him to the sofa.
“Sit.”
Akutagawa fiddled with his sleeve as Dazai went to run him a bath. His body hurt— the side he’d fallen on earlier, to say nothing of his lungs which the cold had made worse than usual. His throat hurt in that nasty prickly feeling that made his breath catch, and he was dizzy. Now his mentor was in his house and he just wanted to curl up and die.
“Bath’s ready.”
Akutagawa jumped, coughing sharply at the sudden movement. Through watery eyes he could make out Dazai standing there with his arms crossed. He hated baths, but the alternative was to face Dazai’s wrath, which was objectively scarier. He reasoned that nothing could happen with the older boy there anyways and he was just so tired he doubted he’d stay upright in the shower.
In the bath Akutagawa pondered. Dazai wasn’t doing this to be nice—Dazai wasn’t ever nice. He was pragmatic, ruthlessly efficient. If he told Akutagawa to rest, to bathe, to eat, it was because he’d figured that it was the course to the best outcome. Akutagawa trusted that. Even so, the smallest happiness flickered in his chest like a dying flame—he was so thankful that Dazai hadn’t left him curled up in the streets. It was all he needed to believe Dazai was deserving of his absolute devotion. His head hurt so he stopped thinking.
Since the bath, Akutagawa hadn’t stopped quaking—like a little fawn. Even the breeze Dazai created in passing had him shivering like a leaf. He had no choice but to bundle him up and towel his hair. “Haven’t you learnt to take care of yourself yet?” He huffed, not really bothered but needing something to say. But Akutagawa shrank in on himself.
“I’m sorry, I’ll try harder.”
That wasn’t really what he was going for but…oh well. Akutagawa had a way of making any comment of his into a criticism. He felt suddenly tired—as much as Akutagawa looked. For a brief moment he rested his chin on Akutagawa’s damp head, the hair ticklish against his face. He smelt like shampoo. Akutagawa went very still under him. “I suppose that’s what I’m here for.” He mumbled, before drawing back. “Let’s get you to bed.”
Akutagawa fell asleep quickly, warm and given a large dose of medicine. Dazai smoothed the bedsheets over.
He'd hadn’t missed the way Akutagawa's eyes grew slightly wider, and fearful, for a millisecond every time his throat seized up and he coughed. He pondered if Akutagawa felt afraid for his inevitable premature death. Had he ever cried over it? He didn't seem the type to—but then again Dazai didn't seem the type to coddle his subordinates to sleep either.
People were always too complicated for their own good.
Akutagawa breathed out particularly sharply, and then his face contorted into something else entirely. The rise and fall of his chest became rapid, distressed murmurs leaving his mouths. Akutagawa seemed impossibly young then, hands subconsciously reaching out for comfort like a child— so sleepy, barely conscious. Dazai sighed long and deep. He reached out to clasp Akutagawa’s hand, rubbing circles onto the back until he settled again. His boy really caused him a lot of trouble.