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It was late morning in the Armed Detective Agency and all the members currently in the office were gathered around the consultation table, listening attentively to the woman who was requesting their services. She sat stiffly on the couch, hands held tightly on her lap in a fruitless attempt to stop their shaking. The gathered detectives, Kunikida, Yosano, and Atsushi looked on in sympathy as she struggled to tell them what had happened.
“My sister was killed and the cops won’t do anything because they say it was suicide,” she had announced frantically when she’d entered the agency. Now with the full attention of the detectives she went into more detail.
“I found her and an unknown man in her apartment two nights ago, both overdosed on drugs. I called an ambulance and they were rushed to the hospital, but my sister— she… she died en-route. The man who was with her survived but he escaped from the hospital before he could be questioned. The cops don’t want to waste their time pursuing him when to them it looks like a half-failed double suicide.”
“How did they come to the conclusion that it was suicide and not an accidental overdose?” Yosano asked skeptically.
“My sister has a history of depression and suicidal thoughts, but she always got help when it got bad! She never attempted before and she’s been in therapy for months now! She wouldn’t have done this, especially not with some strange man! He killed her! I know it!” She was screaming by the end, tears streaming down her face. She buried her head in her hands and tried to wipe away the tears as Atsushi moved to comfort her. Neither he nor the client noticed the knowing and pity-filled glances the two older detectives shared.
Mental health was a complicated thing, and it often didn’t adhere to reason or linear recovery. With the case of an overdose with an unfamiliar person there were many reasons why someone with a history of depression would impulsively commit suicide. Between external validation from that stranger, the camaraderie of it, and the mind altering substance it certainly wasn’t a far fetched conclusion.
“I heard at the hospital that your agency has a good track record with cases involving suicide,” she muttered as her sobbing died down. Kunikida sighed.
“We’ll do our best to look into it but, full disclosure, our resident suicide expert isn’t here at the moment.” Atsushi choked at the words suicide expert. It was certainly an apt description for Dazai, but it was jarring to hear it said in such a professional manner.
It was at that moment that said expert threw open the door to the agency, wide grin plastered across his face as his voice sang, “I’m ba~ack!”
Kunikida straightened his spine even further and pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “Perfect timing, Dazai. We have case that’s just up your alley. If you would join us please.”
Dazai didn’t move, frozen to the spot as he looked at the client, smile slipping from his face to be replaced by an inhumanly blank expression. The woman herself was shaking from head to toe in rage.
“YOU!” She screeched. She didn’t throw herself at Dazai, but it was a close thing. Atsushi was tensed and ready to intercept her, mind barely processing the situation beyond the instinctive need to protect Dazai.
Yosano on the other hand, was acutely aware of the scene unfolding before her and was looking at Dazai with a mix of horror and concern. Her gloved hand few to her mouth as she gasped quietly.
Kunikida’s blond ponytail whipped back and forth as he looked between his partner and the client, disbelief etched into every line of his face. “No… Dazai…”
Dazai spun on his heel, obviously intending to leave, but Yosano shot forward and grabbed his bandaged wrist. “Oh no you don’t. Explain. Now.” She demanded vehemently, dragging him over to sit on the couch across from the other woman, who was still staring at him with hatred.
“Dazai?” Atsushi asked quietly, eyes filling with tears. Dazai flinched, his own eyes darting around erratically as he tried to look anywhere except his protégé’s face.
“You killed my sister,” the woman murmured, venom infusing her every word. Dazai blinked and turned his blank stare onto her again.
“Your sister killed her self,” he replied tonelessly.
“No! She wouldn’t do that! She was getting better!”
“She was miserable.”
“No! She was getting better! She had friends! She was going to come to family dinner!”
“She was dreading that dinner so much she turned to heroin.”
“You’re lying! Tsu never touched drugs until that night!”
“You obviously didn’t know her that well, she’s been a regular in that crowd since before I joined two years ago.”
“Wait, Dazai, what crowd?” Kunikida interrupted. Dazai blinked an sighed.
“I didn’t mean to say that,” he muttered under his breath. “Kunikida, it seems I’m not as recovered as I thought. It would probably be best if I go home and rest some more.” Dazai tried to put on his most charming smile, but his pallid complexion and shaking hands ruined the affect.
“No.” Kunikida said curtly. “As of right now your a person of interest in an ongoing investigation and we need answers. What crowd were you talking about? Where did you meet the deceased?”
Dazai groaned dramatically. “It’s not a big deal. Just an underground club, you need a password to get in and it’s invitation only. I got the password back when I first started here. One of the only places I can score, since it has no mafia affiliation. Tsu was a regular, we hooked up a couple times. I’d been asking her to commit a double suicide with me since we first met, I had pretty much given up but the other night she finally said yes.” He said all of this as if reciting he was recounting the weather. The only emotion in his voice was light annoyance at having to say it at all.
“What does the mafia have to do with anything? I thought they weren’t involved in the drug trade,” Kunikida asked wearily. Dazai leaned back on the couch, angling his head to look at Kunikida standing behind him.
“They aren’t,” Dazai bobbed his head awkwardly in an approximation of a nod despite the weird angle. “Unfortunately most criminals in the city are connected in some way to the Port Mafia. So weather they’re under the mafia’s protection, or do business with them, or are just afraid of them, Mori can tell them what to do. I’ve been blacklisted from pretty much every dealer in the city.”
“What does any of this have to do with MY SISTER?!” The client screamed.
Dazai turned back around to look at her again and blinked as if he’d forgotten she was there. “It doesn’t,” he said simply.
“How are you so… normal about this?” Atsushi whispered, staring at his mentor with a mix of horror and concern.
Yosano nodded her agreement. “You just said you’ve known this woman for two years and had multiple intimate encounters with her and now she’s dead. You almost died. And you’re just coming back to work like it was just another one of your benders?” The doctor’s tone was hard as she stared Dazai down menacingly. “What the hell is wrong with you? A woman is dead because of you. You have her mourning sister right in front of you and you show no sign of remorse or sympathy or regret!”
“The only thing I regret is not taking an even higher dose,” Dazai responded, words and gaze sharpened in anger. Yosano stumbled back a bit with the force of his cold glare.
“You’re insane…” Kunikida whispered, gazing at his partner in horror.
“You’re just figuring that out?” Dazai snapped before sighing and slumping back. “Look, I do feel something about all this. I’m happy for Tsu. I’m also disappointed and jealous but that’s not the point. You all don’t understand what it’s like, to see life as an endless nightmare in which nothing has meaning. For all the issues you guys have, you haven’t felt the burden of every day feeling like a triathlon. You aren’t exhausted and drained by everything you do. Just living for another second isn’t a burden. I’ve been trying to kill my self since I was twelve. So yeah. I don’t feel guilty for helping someone else escape this hell.”
It was heartbreaking to hear for all of them. It gave them pause. The room became still and quiet, the sound of the city outside barely leaking in through still closed windows. No one moved, no one made a sound, as they digested the words that Dazai had spoken so grudgingly.
The client could do nothing but stare blankly, memories of her sister playing through her mind with new understanding.
Kunikida struggled to fit Dazai’s words into his own word view. Even at his lowest, Kunikida hadn’t been emotionally exhausted by doing things, only by not doing them. It was part of why he pushed Dazai to work as hard as he did. Being lazy only made things worse, doing something made things better, that had been a truth in his mind as long as he could remember. Did that change when a person hit rock bottom? Was he hurting Dazai by pushing him so hard?
Atsushi had thought he understood being suicidal, he’d been there himself, hadn’t he? But he’d never been so deep in those feelings to feel what Dazai had just described. He’d never wanted to be dead for his own sake, only for the sake of others. He was too curious, too in awe of the beautiful parts of the world, to ever want to stop seeing them.
Yosano however, she understood depression, and she probably would have been suicidal herself back with Mori if not for the trauma surrounding the concept itself. She knew what it was like to sit in a padded cell all day and night and not care, because even the thought of doing anything else was exhausting. She also understood knowing intellectually that someone would be better off dead than where they were. She’d never been able to turn that rationality into action or feeling, but of the detectives present she came the closest to understanding what Dazai was saying.
“You’re right, I’m sorry I reacted so harshly. I wasn’t thinking, I know you see situations like this very differently than most,” the Doctor said stiffly, as she tried to re-bury the emotions he had brought up to the surface of her mind with his words.
Dazai sighed again. “I’m not mad at you, Akiko. If anyone was going to understand it would be you. Despite your almost fanatical belief that life is a gift that should be treasured, I know you’ve seen too much suffering not to get it.” He said it like an off hand comment, little emotion infusing his words except exhaustion. “But if we’re done here, I really should be heading home to get some more rest.” He moved to stand, but once again Yosano caught him.
“Oh no, I said I understood that you see this differently. I also understand that leaving you alone right now is just about the last thing I should be doing. You’ll stay in the infirmary until you’re recovered at least.” Yosano grinned at him threateningly and Dazai shivered.