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Yokohama smelled like rain and mud for the last few days. With Atsushi's supernatural senses, the younger told them how he smelled the shift in the air before they announced the storm on the news, which gave the agency a head start.
The upcoming storm would be one of the strongest to ever hit Yokohama.
The entire city, every soul has come to a halt, falling into a pattern of the calm before the storm.
Dazai has lived in Yokohama for as long as he remembers, and never did he see Yokohama this quiet before, where everyone was wary of the storm, ditching everything in sake to survive nature's wrath.
Sea waves were slapping the shore fiercely, and daytime was enveloped with gray clouds, a forewarning of what would be arriving soon.
Dazai misses the faint sun scent in the air, the warm mornings, and, surprisingly, the eventful fast days.
The past two days in the agency were the slowest, dullest days he had ever had in the agency —worse than the days Kunikida forced him to do his paperwork. However, it wasn't half bad, the storms were an important part of human life.
They say, storms arrive, change life, then leave like it never came, leaving people with the remains of what used to be their life, with the mirage of a storm they can't tell if it did happen or was it a mere illusion.
The day when the clouds shift their color into light blackish rather than gray, the wind chose violence, swinging trees frantically, ripping small plants out of their roots, and the sea succumbed to its anger, blowing its cold water against the shore, sometimes reaching beyond it. It had been two days since the president ordered them to stay home.
The agency can't open its doors in unstable weather like that, not that they would get any customers when the only people wandering the streets were out to stock their supplies.
They were supposed to stay inside their houses, with piles of paperwork from Kunikida to kill time. Dazai was the only one who got those.
But after the latest weather forecast, they anticipate that the dormitory won't survive; the insurance would cover that, but they should secure their workers first, and the most practical place was the agency building.
So, they would turn the office into a temporary safe house till the storm passes.
That's why Dazai was ambling in this wild weather; he was on his way to inform the others, as lunatic as he might be, dying in a storm was one of the most painful and hideous ways to die, and he really doesn't want to end like that.
However, he still has duties to do as a responsible adult, even if they were risky; those duties definitely don't include doing his paperwork.
The wind howled loudly, nothing else to be heard, the empty streets with no one but several other madcaps beside him, devour of life, with a touch of devastation to the buildings and fiend creatures, Yokohama would look like a filming site for an apocalypse movie.
At some point, he stopped playing around and paced his strides; the dormitory had never felt this far before that he started questioning if he was going the right way.
Evidently, it wasn't his lucky day when raindrops started falling, successively intensified with time. The pavement was damp, and water splashed with every step, moistening his pants' hem.
He should have gone with Kunikida to bring the car, who cares, someone should tell their coworkers beforehand to ready themselves? Dazai didn't get such a luxury!
But he had no say on this, Kunikida was diehard on sending someone, and Dazai was the chosen one —or rather a fall guy.
Seeing the dormitory emerging from the horizon, Dazai hastens, his legs spinning comically like an anime character, trembling and skidding on his way.
Natural was Dazai Osamu's true and only nemesis, the one who brought him to his doom and knees— literally. Anyone else saying so is just a blatant liar.
Because who else makes Dazai, the demon prodigy, an ex mafia executive, a seasoned detective fighting his own knees to stay standing, bearing a load to take one steady, successful step, he should have paid more mind to his shoe type.
The brunette would've kissed the ground when he reached the dormitory if it wasn't muddy wet.
Also, he does have a mission to fulfill; either he tells them on time, or Kunikida would tie him to a lamppost, leaving him as a sacrifice to Mother Nature.
Dazai knocks constantly on the apartment that Atsushi and Kyouka share, rhythmically, three knocks with his knuckles and one with the top of his forearm.
He stops when Atsushi shouts from behind the door, sounding pretty much pissed. Such a shame, millions would pay to hear Dazai's rendering, but this ungrateful kitty was yelling at him.
"Atsushi-kun! Go and pick your things up! The agency has arranged a grand sleepover for a couple of days, and you are invited along with Kyouka-chan! C'mon, don't waste this once-in-a-lifetime chance!" Dazai announced that once Atsushi opens the door like a lottery compere.
Atsushi stared at him apprehensively," Dazai-san, did you sleep last night?"
Succumbing to the younger's lack of hilarity, Dazai dangles his arms submissively, for what has he suffered the hardship of a puddly and sombre road that resembles the end of the world? For no one to laugh at his quips?
"We'll be spending the storm at the agency, it's the president's orders, I've already told everyone else. This building might not be standing once the storm passes. So hurry up, Atsushi-kun!"
"Oh!" The young man jolted, processing what he had been told, "Alright! Kyouka-chan!!"
Atsushi swivels around, calling his roommate, who emerges from the opposite room. While the roommates were consulting where their tote bags were, Dazai noticed something he hadn't before.
Atsushi was wearing shorts.
A mid-thigh, blue, tight shorts.
Shorts that gave Dazai a sacred view of Atsushi's holy peach.
The view took Dazai off guard, but not unwelcome, just unexpected. Atsushi sure had a cute taste in clothing.
Apparently, this was his sleepwear, a plain white t-shirt with a tiny tiger pattern and shorts. Kyouka, from what he could see, was wearing a similar one.
Just whose idea was this?
"Ah! Dazai-san, how should we take this to the agency?" Atsushi asked, pointing at the bags Kyouka was pulling out.
"You turn into a tiger a take them while we follow…" Kyouka replied, throwing whatever they had in their' cupboard inside one of the bags.
Atsushi crossed his arms grumpily while Dazai snorted, "As efficient as this idea might be, Kunikida is about to bring a car, so don't worry."
"Nice try, Kyouka-chan, maybe next time."
"Don't worry we still have long, idle days before us," Dazai replied this time, backing Kyouka up in this sapid, lovely scheme.
The silver-haired rolled his eyes fondly, grabbing a bag himself to help Kyouka.
Dazai, with nothing else to do, entered and closed the door behind him.
At first, he tried to slight the seducing view the younger man was showing so inadvertently.
But again, why not take a look?
So he let his eyes slide over to where the silver-haired was, standing on his toes, hand stretched out to bring whatever they had on top.
And oh.
Was Atsushi's ass like this all the time?
A smirk crept on the brunette's face, playful and content; this indeed was a view worth the hardship he endures in his way here.
Who might have thought that Atsushi wasn't just cute, but a seductive with a juicy ass?
Definitely wasn't Dazai.
The older man rubs his nose with his forefinger, trying to suppress his growing smile once Kyouka shifts closer, putting a bag of food supplies next to the door, and casting him a curious look while she's at it.
Paying him no mind, the little girl made her way to the bedroom, and a loud voice of rummaging followed after.
Then, he was left alone with Atsushi, with that pastel fine ass.
Would they get to be insulated like this again in the upcoming days?
Dazai hopes so.
Atsushi was pretty much engaged in picking up, his shirt was levered up, giving the older a glance at the younger's alluring hip, along with a squashable ass.
And Dazai was steeped in his lust; he wanted to do things to Atsushi, he always had.
Every time life forces them close, he feels his sanity seeping through the grids of his desires, and self-control defies his senses.
When sitting next to each other at their desks, he wants to ruffle those silver locks all the time; a single pet wasn't satisfying.
At the cafe, when lounging together, alone or with others, his hand would itch him, longing for a touch he had never tasted, yearning for an undoubtedly soft and warm touch.
But he —as the coward he was— never dared to commence anything, either bad or good.
Or in missions, at cramped places, all alone with Atsushi and his thoughts, should he let his desires and feelings win over, or be rational and keep his distance?
Those feelings torment him, and Atsushi wasn't making it any easier for him.
Dazai was saved from his thoughts by Atsushi when he spun around, hurrying to put the bag next to the first one.
"You guys sure have stored a lot." The brunette couldn't help noticing, it was for the sake of disregarding his mind somewhere else.
Atsushi stood up, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, "We don't know for granted how long the storm will last…"
"But not that much…"
"Shut up! I don't want someone who barely eats to lecture me about food!" Atsushi cries out with a frown, twitching his arms at his sides.
Ouch…
With a constant frown, Atsushi strode to the bedroom, pulling out a box of what seemed to be his personal belongings, where they set the tote bags.
And gracefully, heedlessly, he bent over, reloading his belongings from that position.
Atsushi really wasn't planning on helping him.
Whilst Dazai was suffering, trying to keep a hold on himself, to not look or think where he shouldn't, Atsushi and Kyouka had wrapped up their things pretty quickly.
They give a once-over to all their bags and drawers in case they forgot anything. When coming out clean, Atsushi turns precipitately to Dazai, facing the older man satisfyingly, "We are ready, Dazai-san!"
Dazai, against all odds, was looking at him with a rather horrified look, as if Atsushi just told him that he would stay outside in the open air during the storm.
"What?" Atsushi tilted his head, looking at Dazai incredulously.
"Are… are you going out like that…?" Dazai grows motionless, pointing at Atsushi's sleepwear.
"Like what—" The silver-haired started boldly, but once he looked down at his outfit, embarrassment and shame took over his face.
He looked at Dazai with a dark red face, in a stiffen way he took a proper pants before sprinting to the room. As cute as Atsushi's antics were, Dazai's thoughts were somewhere else…
If Atsushi goes out like this, it might end ugly for both of them, or maybe only for Dazai.
Someone might realize how breathtaking the younger was and sweep him off his feet.
Dazai won't allow this, won't allow someone to take Atsushi, to see him like this—
Oh.
The realization hit Dazai like the infamous truck that killed half of the anime population.
And it hurts.
Hurts like a bitch.
Dazai, not being aware of his feelings but was a clueless idiot; it hurts like a festering wound.
The fact that he wasn't heartless and able to feel such human feelings was like a knife slash.
The way he hadn't done anything on this matter before, but waiting for when it's too late, it feels like a broken bone.
And Dazai Osamu doesn't like pain.
"Alright, let's go. Bet everyone is waiting…" Atsushi announces with a still red face, motionlessly waiting for Kyouka —who shoved the biggest bag at Dazai— to open the door for them.
Flashing Atsushi a charming smile, Dazai followed behind the girl.
He should do something.
And he will.
He won't cause himself more pain.
Fortunately, they have plenty of days ahead of them to spend doing nothing but staring at each other.
Let's say that Dazai had accidentally forgotten his paperwork at home.