Archive of Our Own

There's a ringing in Dazai's ear.

It's always there; actually, he doesn't remember a time when it wasn't. There's always a ringing in his ear, more consistent than the banging he has behind his eyes most of the time. But it never bothered him; like most of the things, he's accepted his life with it. Just as he accepted the neverending itch on the skin under his bandages, or the fact that no matter how much his colleagues and friends try to stop him, ending his life will always be his number one priority.

But it never bothered him that much, so he doesn't mind.

It's in the silence of the night that Dazai resists the urge to find a gun and shoot himself straight through the ears. For some odd reason, the ringing seems even louder when it's night and he's trying to sleep and those sleeping pills he stole from Yosano's office were a total joke. (For sleeping or killing himself, utterly useless.)

Dazai shakes the bottle of sleeping pills and downs whatever is left, dry. He knows they'll do nothing, but it has become a habit to take them every single night. Dazai hums, kicking some bottle away from his way as he puts on his coat and leaves his house; shutting the door with a soft click.

The city is more bearable in the night; there's no sunlight to give him migraines, and he can blend in the shadows perfectly as he roams the dark allies. There are only a few people on the street; drunk and going back home from work, and as an ex-mafia and currently the member of one of the strongest agencies in Japan, he walks with his hands in his pockets without a care in the world. Dazai continues his humming, not really knowing the song but it's enough to quieten the ringing in his ears and stop him from scratching the skin of his forearms off. He already knows it's one of those nights where he won't be going home until the dawn and ditch work in the morning.

He can already hear Kunikida screaming his ear off from behind the phone tomorrow.

He just shrugs and rounds the corner, entering an alleyway with little to no lighting. But for Dazai who finds comfort in the darkness, it's really not much of a bother; more like a pleasant surprise to see the only light bulb above his head flickering once, twice, before basking him fully in darkness. He breathes a happy sigh, and waits for his eyes to adjust to his surroundings.

And it's in the darkness that all his other senses sharpens.

Perhaps that's why he hears the footsteps following behind him even when they're not close. They drown out the ringing, letting him hear how the man's breathing heavily as he closes in on him from the left. He knows he's a lazy man, but he always prided himself over his quick reflexes; which is why when he hears the familiar "whoosh" of a knife cutting through the air, he's already jumped away from it's way.

"Aww man. Can't a guy catch a break on his lovely walk?"

He hears the guy sneering, and squints his eyes as they finally adjust to the dark.

"Perhaps. If only he didn't decide to take a little detour straight to his death."

Dazai sighs ruefully.

"If only. I'm pretty unkillable. Believe me, I've tried."

Another swing of the knife, this one closely missed his right ear. He hears some of his hair being cut and rolls his eyes; his attacker is desperate to end him right on the spot.

"Why the hurry?" He asks as he dodges another attack, "Is your wife waiting for you at home or something?"

His attacker lets out a sound close to a growl, but doesn't stop his attacks.

"Thanks to you, my wife's dead." He spits his words with so much hatred that for a moment, Dazai pities him, "you thought leaving that damn mafia gang and joining the good side has all of your sins washed away?"

Ah, not even slightly. Not even close.

Because the blood on his hands is too much to be washed away so easily. The blood of hundred innocent and sinful, but most of all, the blood of his best friend is still too fresh, too thick. He knows no amount of water, soap or acid will wash it away; he's tried. 

After Odasaku's death, he'd gone mad; he remembers washing his skin so much, until it was raw and sore. He remembers the acid burning his skin, making it red and bleeding until all he could do was to scream and cry from the unbearable pain. But it was never enough, it never will be. He still sees Odasaku's blood on his skin whenever he's changing his bandages; there are red spots in his vision if he closes his eyes for too long, and if he just breathes deep enough he can smell it deep in his lungs.

It might not be visible to others, but the regret and guilt will forever eat him alive. He supposes it's a fitting punishment; a man as good as Odasaku dying in his arms, while Dazai's only wish ever was to say goodbye to everyone and everything.

That's what he gets for letting the innocent die, and the evil live.

"Wrong move, mafia rat," someone whispers from behind, right by his ear, "shouldn't have gotten so lost in your little head right now."

Dazai turns, and the air stills when the trigger is released. The sound of the gunshot echoes through the silence of the night, and his breath gets knocked out of his lungs.

There's a ringing in his ears once again; but this time the blood rush and his own choked breathing are louder. He's glad; if he had to hear that ringing again, he would've asked his attacker to shoot him in the head this time.

Dazai drops to his knees, holding his stomach with whatever energy that's left in him. It's dark, but he can see his own blood pooling around him; gushing from between his fingers and soaking through his pants with an alarming speed. He groans, his hands trembling as he tries to apply more pressure to the wound. He looks up, and doesn't know if it's the blood loss or there are actually two men standing above him.

A rather harsh kick to his chest, throws him backwards until his back hits the dirty alley wall with a sickening sound. Breathless, he looks up and just as suspected, there is another man with a gun looking at him with disgust. He raises the gun again, this time aimed at his head. Dazai doesn't close his eyes, no; instead he watches. He watches with keen eyes; not wanting to miss the moment when his life finally ends. He can almost taste the sweet release of death, somewhat doubting if he actually deserves it. It's funny, really; after years and years of trying to kill himself, or his enemies had tried on countless missions, he can't believe he's going to die on a walk near his own neighborhood. He wonders who'll find him first, maybe Atsushi; the kid has a knack for running into dead bodies and trouble. Or perhaps the police will call his agency.

He pities the poor soul who's going to clean up the mess he's leaving behind.

But the sound of another shot never comes; instead the attacker with the knife takes hold of the other man's hand, and stops him.

"No," his voice is grave, his eyes burning with hatred, "that's too good for him, too easy. He should suffer. He should bleed out and freeze to death. Not to be put out of his misery this fast."

He lowers himself on his heels and wipes his knife on Dazai's coat. But not before doing a deep and good slash on his cheekbone; close to his left eye.

Sad thing for him, Dazai doesn't even feel it from all the blood loss from the hole in his stomach.

"I hope you rot in hell, mafia bastard. It's a pity you can only die once; you certainly deserve more pain."

He gives him one last look, before getting up and leaving with his partner. Their footsteps fade, and Dazai is once again alone with the damn ringing.

Good thing he'll die soon, then.

It's cold, and not only because half of his blood is currently drying on the ground. Winter nights are never kind, especially not to a dying man. He never really liked the cold and of course he's dying on one of the coldest nights of the year. He doesn't mind, but he was never a big fan of suffering; he liked his death to be quick and painless, but he didn't deserve it. Was this even close to how much Odasaku had suffered that day? Did he feel this much pain as well? Was he cold too?

He wondered what Odasaku regretted the most in his final moments; probably not being able to save the orphans. Dazai smiles through clenched teeth; knowing his dear friend, he probably regretted not reading more books or finishing his novel

And Dazai will forever regret not being able to read the book his friend would write and become a famous author. Ah, Odasaku truly never belonged to the dark side; he deserved to finish his book in peace and take care of the people he held dear to his heart. 

He presses against his wound harder, gasping when more blood gushes out but the pain he feels is worth it. He doesn't deserve to go this easily; he should feel as much pain as possible. He should suffer until his last breath, maybe that way, he could understand how his friend had felt before leaving him forever. But he knows it's not possible; because Odasaku was a good man, and Dazai can't ever feel what he felt in his dying moments. Heck, he even cared for someone as monstrous as him till his last breath.

His eyes flutter shut, and his breathing comes out as small, shallow pants; so this is death. He didn't expect it to be warm exactly, but he wished it wasn't this cold either. At least it's comforting, knowing he can finally put this life behind-

There's a ringing in his ear.

The ringing is distant; like the sound is coming from under the water. It's a little different, but Dazai pays it no mind; he can't bother to open his eyes when the ringing stops. Weird; usually the ringing never stops.

There's a quiet moment where Dazai is pretty sure it's the end, when the ringing starts again. His eyes flutter open, and he feels his side buzzing slightly.

He takes one bloody hand away from his wound and reaches his shaky hand in the pocket of his coat. Looking at the screen, he's not surprised to find it blurry; he can't tell who's calling him at this moment.

He might as well humor them if they cared enough to call him nonstop this late. He answers the phone without saying anything, but apparently he didn't have to.

"Yo, Shitty mackerel!" Chuuya's shout makes him flinch slightly, "why the fuck weren't you answering your damned phone, huh? Busy with your suicide plans again?"

He wants to answer, he really does, but the sarcasm dies on his tongue when he coughs a handful of blood.

God, he hated this part the most; making a mess was never part of his dying wish.

Why couldn't he go out gracefully? Like the fireworks in the sky. That would've been pretty.

The line is quiet for a moment, and when Chuuya speaks again, his voice is awfully solemn.

"Hey," Dazai has no idea why he's whispering, or maybe he's losing consciousness, "Hey Dazai, can you hear me?"

"Mhm." He hums, and spits out another mouthful of blood.

"Fuck, what the fuck did you do?" If just breathing didn't hurt, Dazai would've laughed at how horrified Chuuya sounds, "you freaking lunatic what the fuck did you do to yourself?!"

"Chill, Chuuya," Dazai finally whizzes, trembling all over as he struggles to hold his phone, "you're finally getting rid of your headache for good."

Maybe if he just lays down, he can get more comfortable. The floor is filthy; smelling of rotten flesh and something suspiciously like urine. But still, it must be more comfortable than slumping against the rock wall that's digging in his back. 

"You motherfuck-"

"Language, Chuuy-" another cough has his body finally falling to the ground, happy that he doesn't have to make any effort to lay down. He rests his cheek on the cool cement ground and drops his phone close to his face so he doesn't have to hold it any longer. Dazai closes his eyes; perhaps this isn't a bad way to go, between Chuuya screaming at him and his body finally giving up fighting.

Things could've been worse. He's glad that he's such a glass half full kind of guy.

"Hey, hey!" Chuuya's voice, although sounding far away, gets louder, "answer me, asshole!"

"What?" He wishes Chuuya could read his mind; even talking makes pain shoot up straight to his whole body.

"Where the fuck are you?!"

He doesn't want to answer. He doesn't want to be found. Why can't he finally achieve his long time dream?

"You fuckin' better answer me, damned mackerel!"

Chuuya's being awfully loud; it's a little annoying that he can't die in peace. He shouldn't have answered his phone. But the good thing is, he's losing so much blood that he can't answer for the life of him. So he just mumbles something under his breath, and with Chuuya's last scream of his name, falls into the blissful darkness.

He can't hear the ringing anymore; guess he's finally up for a good rest after all this time.

-

When Dazai opens his eyes, he's sitting side by side with Odasaku.

His friend is just like the day he'd lost him; brave, bright and kind. He's looking down at his drink, the Lupin empty except the two of them.

"What's wrong, Dazai?" He asks without looking up, "you look like you've seen a ghost or something."

He might as well have. 

But perhaps...

"It's nothing," he chuckles softly, "Just had a very long, bad dream."

Odasaku pushes another glass of whiskey his side, smiling behind his own.

"Then good thing you finally decided to wake up."

It's quiet as they finish their drinks. Dazai had forgotten how much he'd missed this; drinking in his favorite bar with Odasaku by his side, sharing a comfortable silence as the ice in his drinks melts and cools the glass in his hands. He's half way through the drink when Odasaku places his empty glass on the counter.

"But Dazai."

Dazai hums, looking at him from the corner of his eyes.

"You can't keep doing that." Odasaku's tapping the glass, the sound awfully loud in the quiet of the bar, "You can't keep trying to kill yourself."

Dazai grins.

He's missed this.

"Aww, why not?"

"Dazai," his friend sighs and Dazai's grin widens, "You have people to live for now."

"Hmm, do I?"

Odasaku pinches the bridge of his nose.

"You're not alone anymore, kid. You have friends that care deeply about you, and you know it better than I do." Odasaku turns fully to face him, placing a gentle but firm hand on his shoulder. His eyes never leaving his, "If you can't live for yourself, start with living for others. For those who love and need you the most." His hand squeezes Dazai's shoulder, "Live for the people who'll be devastated by losing you. You had more impact on the people around you than you think. I know fully well asking you that is selfish, but I'm saying this as your friend."

Odasaku smiles, and Dazai can't look away.

"I didn't have much time to say this the last time we saw each other, and I've always regretted it. But now," a small sigh, he looks relieved, "now, I know you have more people who care about you. More than you think you know you do. And I think I can finally rest in peace."

And suddenly, he flicks Dazai on the forehead, chuckling as he lets out a loud whine.

"So stop giving me a heart attack every chance you get. Live, and let me watch over you in peace."

Dazai rubs his forehead, his throat burning. There's a strange lump there that he tries to swallow around but fails. He finishes the rest of his drink in one go and clears his throat while getting up.

His drink is empty. The clock is ticking.

He sighs ruefully; looks like it's not time yet then.

"Looks like it's time for me to go back, Odasaku."

He pats his friend once on the shoulder, and walks to the door. His hand's on the handle when Odasaku calls out his name.

"Dazai."

He turns slightly.

"Yeah?"

"I hope you can finally be happy." Odasaku smiles, "I hope you can find the reason for living."

When Dazai just smiles, his friend sighs.

"Just think about what I said, ok?"

Dazai stares at Odasaku, trying to commit every little detail to memory. The way Odasaku's eyes crinkle at the corner when he smiles; his stubble that he didn't have enough time to shave that morning, and his slightly disheveled hair from how often he runs a hand through it. Odasaku has never changed in his memories, but the image Dazai had of his face was starting to fade away.

He's glad he had the opportunity to remember it clearly now.

With a final glance toward his long lost friend, Dazai twists the doorknob and steps outside.

"I'll do it, if it makes you happy." His eyes burn slightly, but he doesn't turn back, "goodbye, my dearest friend."

There's a blinding light, and he hears the ringing again.

Time to go back home.

-

It hurts to open his eyes.

He can hear voices in the background; they're muffled, hurried and hushed. They sound familiar but he's hurting too much to think about who they are.

But as he's trying to regain his consciousness, the voices disappear and give room to one, very loud and very familiar one.

"No, you listen to me, fuck face," Chuuya's language is as colorful as always, "I don't fucking care. If you can't find out who did this to him, you better dig your own grave and not wait for me to arrive because i swear to god when I get my hands on you-"

"Chuuya," Dazai mumbles without opening his eyes, "you're gonna make the poor guy piss his pants."

He cringes at how awful he sounds, but tries again to open his eyes. They feel like they've been stitched shut; his whole body shaking with effort to rip his eyelids open. But boy, when he does, he doesn't think he's ever seen anything like this before.

Chuuya is standing still, the phone in his hand in the air. There are no signs of his fedora and coat, and his ginger hair is the most disheveled he's ever seen. But his eyes-

He has the eyes of a mad man.

They're bloodshot, wide and if he didn't know any better, he would've called them horrified. When Dazai tries for a grin, the phone drops from his hand; landing on the floor and Dazai's pretty sure he's broken at least the screen. Upon seeing Dazai's open eyes, Chuuya rushes forward hurriedly and grabs at his shoulders.

"How're ya feeling?" Frantic azure eyes search his, "Anywhere hurts? Feel like throwing up? Dizzy?"

Dazai blinks at Chuuya, wide eyed.

"I-"

"Yeah? What's wrong?"

"Water?" The single word is enough to send Chuuya rushing around, grabbing him a glass of water and helping him into an almost sitting position. His hand on Dazai's back feels solid, with a small tremor but he chooses to not make any comment on that.

"Better?"

He can only nod and lay back down with the groan. He looks around, and he's surprised to not see the familiar ceiling of Yosano's office.

"Where-?"

"Hospital." Chuuya sits down on the chair by his bedside with a heavy sigh, "It was the closest one that didn't have any problem with a mafia currying an almost dead man inside."

"You could've taken me to my agency. Someone would've helped you out."

"There wasn't any time, you idiot." Chuuya searches inside his pockets and lits a cigarette, taking a long inhale, "you were almost dead when I found you. The hospital was way closer than your stupid agency."

Dazai hums, resting a gentle hand on his stomach.

"You didn't call any of my colleagues, did you?"

"Of course not." Chuuya snorts, taking another drag, "I called Akutagawa. He's definitely with that tiger kid."

Dazai chuckles, "they became inseparable, huh?"

"Tell me about it. The minute Akutagawa answered the phone and heard what happened to you, that kid was screaming his head off on the other side of the line."

"I'm flattered."

Chuuya lights up his second cigarette, "What the hell happened, Dazai?"

"Hey, I'm innocent!" Dazai raises his hands in surrounder, "I didn't do anything this time! They shot me! However you look at it, I'm the victim here!"

The third cigarette.

"Is that so?" Chuuya's voice is dangerously low. He taps his cigarette in the ashtray and takes a long drag, "but you did refuse to tell me where the fuck you were."

When Chuuya flicks his lighter with anger to light up his fourth cigarette, Dazai plucks it out of his hand. He throws it carelessly somewhere on the floor and regards the ginger with a calm smile.

"That isn't anything new." He looks Chuuya in the eyes; they look tired and stressed. He's kinda used to being the reason Chuuya's always on the verge of killing someone.

"Just..." The mafioso runs a troubled hand through his hair, messing it up even more, "I know you're a crazy bastard obsessed with suicide! But did you have to do that?! Did you have to go out of your way to make me feel miserable?!"

The sudden outburst has Dazai speechless. Chuuya takes it as a sign to continue. Like this, his hair looks awfully like it's on fire.

"We all will fucking die one day, you shitty asshole! I know life never treated you well, but who's has?! Everyone's fucked up in their heads, but they try to make it work! You? You spent your whole life planning your death, never trying to find a reason to live!" If Dazai wasn't afraid that Chuuya would murder him right on the spot, he would've mentioned no yelling was allowed in the hospital, "You're always like this, y'know?! Always doing whatever pleases your egoist self! You never give a fuck about who you left behind and how they feel! I'll tell ya how they feel; they'll feel like crap! They'll spend their whole lives wondering what they did to deserve this kind of treatment!"

A nurse opens the door to quieten them down, but when Chuuya gives her a murderous look, she immediately runs away. Poor nurse, she probably would quit her job after this.

Chuuya turns toward him again, jabbing an angry finger to his shoulder.

"You think killing yourself would make everything easier?! That'll be just for you, dumbass! Have you ever thought about what it'll do to the people you left behind? That Atsushi kid will never forgive himself 'cause he'll think it was his fault. Akutagawa will lose himself in grief when he just founded some closure and happiness with that tiger kid, and I'll fucking bring you back to life just to kill you again. So go on ahead, try killing yourself again if you dare!"

When he's finished with his rambling, Chuuya pants heavily. He pours himself a glass of water and after downing it, slams it so hard on the table that it shatters completely.

"It's horrifying," his voice is low, awfully quiet, "to be late. To fail to save the one you care about." His voice drops even more as he presses the heel of his palm to his forehead with an exhausted sigh, "you should know that better than anyone, don't you?"

He knows.

There isn't a single day where doesn't wonder what would've happened if he'd founded Odasaku sooner. He can still feel the heavy weight of his friend in his arms; how it had lost it's usual warmth and gone completely ice cold. He remembers screaming Odasaku's name, begging him to open his eyes; because surely his friend can't die this easily, right?

But as god's best joke, Odasaku, full of life and kindness had died and left him alone with his nightmares. 

"I know," his voice has never been this soft while talking to Chuuya, but he can't bother himself to make any jokes, "you shouldn't care too much about a dead man walking though, Chuuya. Some people can't be saved. It's a person's right to choose death whenever they can't live. And if they have enough, don't you think it's better to help them pass on more peacefully?"

Chuuya is quiet. Unnaturally so; his eyes never leave his as he locks his fingers together.

"Then why do you try so hard?"

"Try hard with what?"

"With saving people. Most of them are bound to die sooner rather than later anyway. So why do you go out of your way to save them? Just because Odasaku told you to? You’re not empathetic enough to do it for your dead friend, not for all these years. Did you really put your suicide plans on hold just to fulfill a will? No, that isn't it. You do it because you believe, deep down, that people should live on. One day we'll all be gone, but if you can help it, you'll stop that day from arriving so early. Giving people more time to live." Chuuya stands up, and instead sits down on Dazai's bed, "you do all that shit for everyone else but when it comes to you, you want to kill yourself right away. If you wanted to end your life, you could've done it years ago; when your hands were bloody with innocent lives. Don't tell me you're trying to make up for everything you've ever done cause that'll be pure crap."

Dazai stares at Chuuya's unruly hair, and reaches a gentle hand to smooth it out. The action surprises both himself and the ginger but they don't move away.

"Can't it just be my wish then? Am i not allowed to do that?"

"No," Chuuya's response is immediate, "not when you have so many people that give a damn about you."

A crooked smile makes way to Dazai's lips.

"Are you one of those people then, dear Chuuya?"

"Don't flatter yourself," chuuya snorts. He rests his forearm right by Dazai's head, and lowers himself slightly. Dazai blinks; mesmerized by the curtain of orange covering the side of his face, "I hate your fucking guts."

And then, Chuuya's lips are on his.

There was once a time when Dazai imagined kissing Chuuya; it was right after a successful mission where the ginger had taken them back on his motorcycle. He was so carefree and happy; and Dazai who was clinging to the other's waist for dear life, knew right there and then that this version of Chuuya will forever remain his favorite.

A week after that, Odasaku died and dazai left the Mafia and everything related to it behind. He left Chuuya, and buried the smallest feelings he had toward his partner. But he never stopped caring for Chuuya, not even once.

And apparently, Chuuya never did either.

Their lips move hurried and hungry; years of pent up yearning finally catching up. He hears Chuuya clenching his leather covered hand into a fist by his head, and smiles into the kiss; a slender finger hooking itself in Chuuya's choker and pulling him in more. His body is already screaming at him to stop, but he knows he won't even if the whole hospital burns and crashes to the ground. 

Chuuya's lips taste like cigarettes, but they're soft beyond his imagination. His lips are harsh, unforgiving; as if he's making sure Dazai is alive and this isn't all just a fever dream. When the mafioso bites into Dazai's lower lip, he knows it's the ginger's way of punishing him for all the crap he's pulled. 

He knows he deserves it. He also knows he'll let Chuuya do anything to him till his heart's content. Because having Chuuya finally to himself, is awfully making him feel alive.

"You're not allowed to fuckin' die." Chuuya whispers when they're only inches apart, and Dazai's trying to regain his breathing, "I'll kill you myself if you pull that shit again, stupid mackerel."

Dazai's hand reaches up, and tugs a wild strand of Chuuya's hair behind his ear. His eyes are crinkling even though his insides are killing him. He tugs at the choker again, bringing their lips closer once more.

"If that's what Chibikko-kun wants."

Their lips haven't touched yet when the door to his hospital room bursts open, revealing a very disheveled Akutagawa and a sobbing Atsushi by his side. When they see the sight unfolding before them, both of them freeze. Akutagawa sputters as the weretiger lets out a loud squeak, slapping a shaky hand on both his and his boyfriend's eyes.

"We saw nothing!"

Atsushi then slams the door shut along with a loud apology.

A small chuckle escapes both of them as Chuuya straightens himself and fixes the blanket around Dazai. He runs a hand through his own hair and walks to the door.

"We're not done talking by the way."

Dazai grins and winks, laughing loudly when Chuuya's cheeks bloom a bright shade of red.

"If it'll end with you on top of me, I definitely don't have any complains."

"Ugh, I already regret kissing you." Chuuya groans but the darkening of his cheeks and ears says otherwise, "Doesn't us dating mean you'll be less of a pain in my ass?"

"Nope!" Dazai responds cheerfully, not against the idea of dating his long time partner, "It means I'll be double of a pain!" His grin turns sly as he eyes Chuuya up and down, "although, i wouldn't mind doing something else to your-"

"OK! THAT'S ENOUGH!"

Chuuya swings open the door with a flustered expression and growls when Dazai cackles in the background. Atsushi and Akutagawa are sitting on the chair just outside the room shoulder by shoulder, whispering among themselves.

"Hey, kids." They both jump, looking like deers caught in the headlights. "You can see the asshole now."

Atsushi gives Akutagawa a look, and when the older man sighs heavily and nods, they get up and make their way to the room.

Atsushi peeks his head inside and Dazai is torn between cooing or making fun of him because of his red and puffy eyes.

"Hey, Atsushi-kun, Akutagawa-kun! Why the long faces?"

At that, Atsushi lets out another sob and Akutagawa rests a comforting hand on his shoulder. They walk quietly to his bedside and before Dazai has anytime to come with another snarky remark, the weretiger throws himself at him; wrapping trembling arms around his waist.

"Dazai-san!" Dazai blinks down at the young boy in his lap, "I...I thought we had lost you!"

"Nah," he pats Atsushi on the head, "Chuuya just loves to exaggerate these things."

He watches Chuuya grumbling under his breath as he reaches for his lighter and cigarette in his pockets once more.

"It wasn't an exaggeration, Dazai-san." Akutagawa's voice is oddly hoarse, and he's refusing to meet his eyes, "you were shot in the stomach and had a severe concussion. You were in a fatal condition when Nakahara-san brought you to the hospital."

Dazai looks at his former student with a knowing smile.

"Someone did their research before coming here." When Akutagawa's pale complex redens slightly, his smile widens, "although I am sorry for ruining your date night."

Atsushi sits up straight with wide eyes.

"W-we weren't on a date!"

"How can you think I'd date someone like him, Dazai-san?"

Atsushi turns toward Akutagawa with a pout.

"What does that mean, Ryu?"

Akutagawa sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Good job acting along, Idiot."

"Hey!"

"Kids," Chuuya opens the window slightly and blows a concerning amount of smoke in the cold morning air; his breath coming out as small white fog, "just...drop it. The whole world probably knew about you two before you guys realized your feelings for each other."

Atsushi gives Dazai a nervous look, biting his lower lip anxiously.

"Is that...ok?"

Dazai grins widely, "who cares?" He jabs a thumb in Chuuya's direction, "look at us! Do we look like we give a crap?"

When Akutagawa rests a gentle hand on Atsushi's shoulder and the weretiger smiles at him, looking relieved, Dazai's eyes soften slightly.

"Just do whatever that makes you happy. You two had enough sorrow lasting for your whole lifetimes."

The two young men before him give him a grateful smile, and just as Atsushi rests his head on Akutagawa's shoulder, the door bursts open one more time.

The two lovebirds push each other away and jump to the other sides of the room so fast, that Dazai has a hard time controlling his laughter.

"DAZAI!" Kunikida yells, looking somewhat both angry and relieved upon seeing his colleagues waving at him, "what the hell did you do this time?!"

"Why does everyone think I was the one who did something?!"

"Probably because of your colorful history." Yosano replies calmly as she walks inside after Kunikida, throwing a knowing look toward Atsushi who's standing nervously by Akutagawa's side. The boy turns bright red and turns slightly to face the wall.

"I've already deducted who it was. And where to find them both." Ranpo strolls inside, one hand in his pocket while the other is wrapped tightly around Edgar's, who's getting dragged behind him. He looks awfully nervous when he glances around the room full of people. Edgar regards Dazai with a nervous look and nods his head politely.

"I'm happy to see you doing alright, Dazai-san."

Yosano nudges Ranpo with her elbow slightly.

"Did you have to drag him here too? Poor guy looks like he'll pass out any time soon."

Ranpo tilts his head but clings to Edgar's arm more.

"What do you mean? I was at his place so of course he had to come!"

Kunikida walks over to Dazai, smacking him lightly on the back of his head. He's surprised that he doesn't feel any of the usual pain.

"The boss will arrive shortly as well." He says calmly, fixing his glasses, "he wants to have the guys who did this to you confined immediately. Ranpo-san knows where to find them."

Chuuya lights another cigarette and throws a small glance their way.

"My guys are already on it."

"Well, you don't have them yet, do you?"

"You have a dead wish or something, smartass?"

Yosano tugs at Kunikida's ponytail and drags him away from Chuuya. The ginger sneers but busies himself with his cigarette. 

It's a comical scene, really; having both the members of the mafia and agency together in one tiny room, fighting over who's gonna catch the guys that almost killed him. He watches Kunikida and Chuuya glaring at each other, as Yosano easily holds his colleague back by his hair. Ranpo and Edgar are talking among themselves about the identity of the culprits, While Atsushi and Akutagawa are just standing in the corner, not leaving each other's side even for a moment. He watches how Chuuya takes another call and starts giving orders to whoever's behind the phone and smiles to himself; he's forgotten how Odasaku was always right.

He truly has people caring about him now, huh?

He stares at the hospital door, as if waiting for someone long gone, walking inside.

"Fine, Odasaku." He whispers, "I'll try to give it a shot. Don't get your hopes up though, alright?"

"Who are you talking to?" Chuuya nudges him, eyeing the door.

"Hmm," he smiles, "Myself I guess."

And when Chuuya gives him a look that screams he's crazy, he just chuckles.

He knows Odasaku is watching over him right now. He might as well give him some peace of mind for a while.