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The Autumn air was cold; cold enough that it was easy to believe winter was well on its way.
Dazai, Kunikida had found, was the kind of person who decided it was Christmas the minute that the clock hit Midnight on the first of November.
Normally, he would have rolled his eyes and sighed with exasperation as Dazai declared that ‘Last Christmas’ should be played at least once a day somewhere that the entire Agency would be able to hear it, but he found he didn’t mind the enthusiasm from the man.
Especially since otherwise he had been rather quiet lately. Not too noticeably so, just enough so that when you caught his gaze at the right moment, you would be able to watch him pull himself back from wherever his thoughts had run to before smiling back.
And at five PM it was already dark, the rain falling in a faint mist that coated everything below.
Walking home, a car rumbled past on the road, the sounds of the tires on the wet pavement only adding to the atmosphere created by the rain reflecting the streetlights glow, and their breath visible in the air.
It would be snowing soon.
Dazai drifted closer to Kunikida, as if subconsciously seeking out his warmth. He didn’t wear many more layers than he normally did, despite the significant drop of temperature. Kunikida couldn’t help but wonder how he wasn’t freezing, much like in the summer he wondered how Dazai didn’t overheat in all his bandages.
He wasn’t sure how he and Dazai had ended up walking back to the Agency dorms together on their own, but at some point it had only been the two of them left in the building, and when Kunikida got up to leave, he had found Dazai already prepared to leave.
He was glad for the company though. And Dazai wasn’t making any outlandish remarks, and didn’t appear to be scheming anything problematic.
Dazai’s hands, usually in his pockets, were swinging free by his side for once. His left brushed against the knuckles of Kunikida’s right, and Kunikida glanced down as Dazai put space between them again.
No. Only Dazai’s left hand had been free from his pocket.
He decided not to ruminate on why Dazai had one hand free and the other not, and instead commented on how cold his hand had been.
“You’re freezing,” he said, a frown tugging at his lips. “Why do you not have gloves?”
Dazai shrugged, and pocketed his hand again.
“I don’t feel cold, and gloves are uncomfortable. I can’t move my hands properly in gloves.”
Kunikida grimaced, making his displeasure obvious.
“That’s no reason. You only need to wear them while walking. Your hands will start hurting from the cold if you don’t wear gloves at all this winter. If it’s this cold in November, I can’t imagine what it will be like in January.” He looked Dazai up and down. “I thought I told you to start wearing more layers. You should put a scarf on.”
Dazai pouted.
“But if I wear more layers, I’ll look stupid.” He paused, before grinning. “I’ll look like you.”
Kunikida huffed, unamused.
“At least I am warm,” he responded, watching Dazai stick out his tongue and smile.
“That doesn’t mean you don’t look silly all wrapped up,” Dazai pointed out.
“My notebook specifically dictates what clothes I should wear for each temperature bracket to ensure maximum comfort and practicality,” Kunikida said, launching into the lecture the moment he had the opportunity. “Being cold has numerous effects on your ability to be productive, efficient, and content. The cold can affect your mental health, not just your physical health, you know.”
“You should take these things into consideration more if you want to be a truly useful member of the Agency. A good detective needs to take care of themself, not just others, even if through something as simple as ensuring your clothes are suited to your environment. Imagine something happened right now, and we needed to break into a sudden run, but you were so cold your blood vessels and muscles have tightened so much that you immediately tear a muscle and cannot do anything.”
Kunikida broke off his tirade as Dazai shivered, unable to fully suppress the motion.
He was quiet for a moment before he sighed, and unzipped his coat slightly.
Dazai wrinkled his nose in exaggerated disgust, stepping away with a complaint already on his lips, but Kunikida stopped walking to take off his scarf instead.
Dazai stopped as well, raising an eyebrow, not expecting Kunikida to have removed his scarf instead of his coat.
Kunikida stepped up to meet him, and he was surprised by the lack of resistance from Dazai as he wrapped the scarf around Dazai’s neck, fussing over it and taking care to tuck it under his coat to cover his shoulders as well.
He met Dazai’s gaze for a moment, not sure what to do with the look that was in them, clearing his throat and stepping back again to zip his coat back up properly.
“Get yourself a proper scarf,” he said as they began to walk again.
“And what if I don’t?” Dazai teased. “You’ve given me yours now, why don’t I just steal it forever?”
Kunikida turned away slightly.
“If that’s what it would take to make you wear one, you can keep it.”
Dazai went quiet, and after a moment, sighed airily.
“Hm, sure, but then I’d look stupid. I’d look like you.”
Kunikida rolled his eyes.
As they walked, Dazai drifted closer again, and once more, his left hand was swinging free at his side while his right remained in his pocket. Cold knuckles once more brushed against the back of Kunikida’s hand, and he shot Dazai another glance.
Dazai just looked up at the mist of rain.
Once, twice more, their hands knocked together while walking.
On the third, Kunikida finally got sick of waiting for Dazai to actually ask for what he wanted, and he caught Dazai’s hand in his own, lacing their fingers together.
Dazai immediately squeezed his hand tight, stepping closer again so that their shoulders now brushed when walked.
Kunikida sighed, sounding slightly exasperated, but he kept Dazai close for the rest of the walk home.
When they got to the dorms, Dazai only let go of Kunikida’s hand when they got to the door. As Kunikida fiddled with his keys, he lingered awkwardly by the door, quiet once more.
Kunikida turned the key in the lock and stepped into the warmth of his home, glasses misting at the change in temperature. He removed his coat and took the glasses off, looking back at Dazai as he turned the light on.
Dazai stood in the doorway, lit up by the entryway light, making no move to leave, like he was either waiting for an invite or for the door to be closed.
Kunikida stepped to the side, holding the door open wider.
“I’m going to make some tea.”
Dazai broke into a grin, stepping inside.
“Lots of sugar in mine!” he demanded as he closed the door, and Kunikida shook his head and sighed, taking his shoes off before heading to the kitchen.
“You’re going to rot your teeth away,” he muttered.
Dazai simply followed him through to the kitchen, smiling with cheeks that were still pink from the cold.