Chapter Text
When he fell, he thought that was the end. All the calculations went according to plan. He told them and then he died. All to save someone he never even met in this timeline. But it was worth it.
Except, did it all go to plan?
It can’t have, for he was waking up again. After his senses went cold for a brief, blissful moment, he felt them slowly return.
He felt his body again. He thought it might be what the after life felt like but he didn’t feel dead. He felt solid, he felt real. He didn’t feel broken like he should have, falling from a skyscraper. It felt like he was lying on something, not like he was floating through the void like he’d think it’d feel like. And then, the impossible happened, he opened his eyes. It didn’t look like there was anything to see, he was flat on his back but he could only see darkness above him.
Was he dead? He turned his head to the side. No, he wasn’t dead, unless the after life had a sky. He could see a darkened sky in the background of a flat plane that obscured it. He saw water too, a straight channel running in between him and a platform on the other side. There was a sort of arch above him too.
He was under a bridge. But how? He was supposed to die. He should be dead. Not even he could’ve survived a fall from that height, especially since he didn’t try to. He looked down at himself, he didn’t even look like he had a scratch on him. He looked the same, well, aside from the fact his jacket was gone. He tried to lift his arm, just to see if he could, and when he did, the most terrible aching he’d ever felt in his life shot through his body all at once. He groaned but his voice was raspy and barely there. He curled in on himself a little bit which just made the pain flare more.
“God…” he coughed, straining his voice to get just a single word out. The aching continued for several minutes before dulling to a bearable throb. He made the decision to try and sit up, moving slowly as his muscles felt like they hadn’t been used in weeks, which was probably more true than he realized. He did eventually manage a sitting position, leaning back on the head of the broken sofa he was on.
From this vantage point, he was able to get a better view of his surroundings. He had previously been lying on an old, broken, green couch that was surrounded by boxes of various sizes. He reached over to try to open one but it was tapped shut. Where the hell am I? How the hell am I still alive? These were the thoughts echoing in his head. After a few more moments of stillness, he stood up.
His legs felt weak and unused, he almost buckled under his own weight, but he managed to catch himself. He hobbled over to the water and looked at his reflection. He looked disturbingly normal for someone who was supposed to be dead. He looked like Osamu Dazai, albeit, a tired one, but like himself. The bandages on his face were gone.
How was this possible? He died. He remembered dying. He remembered jumping off the building and free falling. He remembered the brief sensation of hitting the ground before a blissful darkness overtook him. It was what he’d always wanted, always dreamed about, and it felt as good as he imagined.
But now, he was back. Am I even in the same reality? Was the first question that crossed his mind, or at least the first question he could prove easily. He had no idea where he was, but if he managed to find the orphanage, he’d have his answer. He first turned his attention to the boxes, he examined each one of them, seeing if they could be opened.
“Damn,” he muttered as more and more boxes were revealed to be sealed. The last box he checked didn’t appear to have any adhesive on it. He tried the top which was folded in a crisscross pattern. After trying it for a moment, it opened. There wasn’t much inside: an old broken lamp, an antique pillow and a black hoodie. He picked up the item of clothing, examining it,
“This looks like it’ll fit,” he announced before pulling it over his head. It was a bit big, but it was an adequate replacement for his jacket. He began to go out from under the bridge, the night time would luckily mean there were less people out and about. He wandered through the city, not quite sure where he was but eventually seeing a familiar building and going from there. Eventually, he was walking down the street towards the orphanage.
It didn’t look like how’d he’d last seen it, it looked lived in and cared for, no longer abandoned. That was a pretty good sign in itself that may suggest he was in the same reality but he had to be sure. He scanned the large fence that was at least double his size.
He walked around to where the fence was a bit shorter and began to climb it. He eventually jumped over to the other side, only twisting his ankle a little bit as he landed. He muttered a curse under his breath before walking up to the building. He stopped in front of the door and tried the handle, locked, obviously. He crept around the orphanage, peeking inside widows soundlessly.
There were some empty rooms, some with sleeping children, another good sign. He finally reached a window with a small stream of light poking through. He flattened his back next to it, obviously knowing someone was awake inside. He slowly moved so only his head was in sight from the inside.
Mori. He was sitting at a desk at the opposite end of the room, back facing Dazai. He appeared to be writing something on a paper in the light of a small lamp. So this is the same reality. He thought. That still doesn’t answer how I’m still here, does the book have something to do with this? But if the book is used here, this world falls apart and everything looks normal right now. He moved away from the window and back towards the fence, he was about to climb it once more when a voice sounded from behind him.
“Who are you? Why are you here?” He felt a scalpel pressed into the back of his head. “You have some nerve wandering in here. Only a monster hurts children.” Even without turning around, Dazai knew exactly who it was.
“I guess that means the boss is as bad as they come then.” He replied, slowly turning with his hands in a surrender. When he turned, he saw a woman about his height wearing a nurse’s uniform with blue eyes and blonde hair that was pinned into a bun. “Hello Elise.” He said, keeping his face decidedly neutral.
“Dazai? How are you- no, it can’t be you, you must be some sort of ability user disguised as him.” She raised the scalpel, cutting Dazai under the chin ever so slightly. He didn’t even flinch.
“God I wish, that would make a lot more sense wouldn’t it? Honestly, I don’t even know how or why I’m standing here in front of you. My plan was to die. But it seems the universe yet again refuses to let me have peace.” He said with a sigh. Elise narrowed her eyes suspiciously,
“How do I know you’re actually Dazai, this has to be a trick.” She hissed.
“You don’t, you’re just gonna have to trust me.” He shrugged, carefully lowering his arms. She in turn, lowered the scalpel, though it was clear from her defensive posture that hadn’t quite lowered her guard.
“How are you alive?” She demanded.
“Like I said, I have no clue. My plan was to die, I was supposed to die, I didn’t try to live, yet I’m still here.” He said.
“I hope you know how much trouble you caused for the Port Mafia when you died.” She said, voice sharper than before.
“Yeah, I figured that would happen, but Chuuya kept them together, right?” He said, a small smirk forming on his lips. Elise scoffed,
“He could hardly keep himself together.” Dazai frowned slightly at that.
“What do you mean?” He asked, genuinely not knowing what she was talking about.
“He lost it after you died, went on a rampage, they had to lock him up in one of the cells. He almost used corruption.” She informed.
“He what?” Dazai’s eyes widened in mild horror. “Is he stupid? If he used corruption, I wouldn’t have been able to stop him.”
“I don’t think he cared at the time. All he was rambling about for a full month was how he should’ve been the one to kill you. Though, I don’t know if anyone actually believes that excuse. Kouyou eventually snapped him out of it and he was able to pick the Mafia back up. He’s mostly fine now but still stares off into space for long periods of time occasionally.” She continued.
Dazai didn’t know what to say to that. Chuuya actually being angry that Dazai died? He thought he would’ve been thrilled that he was dead. There’s no way he actually cared about Dazai. “He actually went on a smaller scale rampage earlier today according to Kyouka. He didn’t have to be locked up this time thankfully. It makes sense though, it is the anniversary of your death after all.” Dazai looked straight at her when she said that.
“I’ve been dead a year?” He asked, Elise nodded. “I see, well doesn’t that make this more interesting.”
“Have you been alive this entire time?” She asked, raising an eyebrow.
“No, I just woke up about an hour ago.” He replied. She made a hum of acknowledgment,
“That is interesting.”
“Elise,” Dazai started, “Let’s just keep this whole thing between us because I really don’t want to deal with the mess that would happen if anyone else found out I was alive.” He said. Elise shrugged,
“Sure, however, Rintaro is probably going to wonder what’s taking me so long, if he asks too many questions, I’ll have to reply honestly.” She warned.
“That’s fine, you were always good at manipulating him.” He said, wicked smirk resting on his face. Elise walked away without another word and Dazai hopped the fence.
Elise made her way back inside the building, stopping by Mori’s room before going to her own.
“There you are Elise, I was starting to worry, what took you so long?” His voice sounded as smooth as butter but Elise knew better than to fall for his charms.
“I had to chase a stray cat out of the yard.” She replied gently.
“A stray?” Mori asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Yes, it was quite the stubborn thing.” She responded, “It’s all taken care of now.” Mori blinked at her, face blank and confused,
“I see,” he answered after a long pause, keeping his face purposely neutral. “Well, I suppose you should head off to bed now.” He instructed. Elise nodded and left the room.