Chapter Text
Wind.
Dazai had always loved the wind, whether it was the cool spring breeze, or the soft lapping at his hair during car rides with Oda. Car top off… the good days.
This was basically the same thing, right? If anything, more enjoyable than any type of wind.
This was Dazai’s freedom, Dazai’s escape from everything. Every cut, every tear, and every ache that threatened to break him down. Oh how he hated this body.
Disgusting.
Walking closer to the edge, Dazai climbed the railing and stood upon it, debating.
Should I?
Yes! Part of him yelled.
NO! The other part screamed.
…
“Would anyone care?” He asked himself. Probably not…? I mean, Chuuya hated him, Akutagawa hated him, who could possibly love let alone like this… this thing.
He hated to admit it, but it hurt. Knowing the people he had foolishly let himself get attached to-
What??
He internally scoffed, a scowl placing itself on Dazai's face. Attached? That was impossible, he was simply… acquainted with such humans. Humans who cared, humans who went out of their way to save and protect others…
Something Dazai would never be.
Dazai closed his eyes, and slowly let himself lean over the edge. Deep down, he hoped someone would notice his absence just this once, his empty desk, the note carefully folded on his neatly made bed. Nobody would, of course, but… he hoped.
Dazai sighed as his body jumped the line between balancing and falling. A sigh of relief, praying to the god he so despised this one would finally work.
I couldn't have changed, anyways.(yes mitski ref… shh…)
Suddenly, Dazai’s eyes shot open, sensing something.
There-!
A man wearing a black suit with a barely concealed silver necklace, dark olive green hair, eyes unseeable but dark none-the-less.
The man made a jolly face and shouted across to Dazai from where he was float-standing. Dazai couldn’t tell. The falling distorting his vision.
“Lucky for you a whole lotta change is coming rightttt up!” The man’s tone was light but there was an undeniable undertone of malice in it.
Planned, what a bastard.
Dazai closed his eyes once more, convinced whatever the man’s ability was wouldn't work on him.
You really believe you can't change?
…
What the fuck? That voice was in his head, NOT his own thoughts. This wasn’t an ability, was it?
Nope! Totally not some random ability user who's batshit crazy!! Oh shit-
Dazai’s body almost hit the water. Almost. A huge circle engulfed him, black and olive, just like the man. He reached out, trying to nullify it, but the ability(?) itself seemed to shrink away from his touch. After a few short moments the ends of his vision start to go black and fuzzy.
What's going on..? I should be dead right now.. I even chose a higher bridge than usual!
Dazai’s mind blurred along with the rest of his vision, unable to form a thought now, disoriented and confused. He hated this feeling. So much. It was the same feeling he had when he was bloody, body aching everywhere, that disgusting feeling, the pit in his stomach. Crumpled on the floor at Mori's mercy. He hated the feeling of his skin itching and burning when he was grabbed. Even now it was a weakness. The lasting impression of a hand on his body. He'd tried everything to make the feelings go away.
Burning himself, cutting himself, getting high, anything. Hoping one day those feelings would go away and he'd live a normal life, as a normal detective.
I'm so useless... I can't do anything. I can't fight, can't eat, can't sleep, can't take care of myself, what can i do?..
Why wasn't I enough for Mori? Or for Mama?
Dazai missed the evenings when Tane cooked soup for him when he was ill. Dazai missed the morning smoothies she'd give him in hopes he'd feel better by night-time.
Dazai missed Chibi... Their stupid family dog, who loved and protected him. A dog. The same breed who'd ripped him apart maybe months later, the ones he'd trusted to protect him had become one of his greatest fears. Maybe even second, after Mori's punishments. Although he preferred to call them "rewards"
Dazai missed the feeling of safety... and yet... dogs.
Dogs...
Dogs.
He loved HATED dogs...
Just not this one.
----------------- (everyone deserves a chibi, just not mine> ahh dazai)
Dazai regained consciousness who knows when. The sun was almost setting, sky darkening slowly.
"W-what..?" His small voice let out. Fear quickly present.
The only trace that suggested this small, fragile boy was Dazai was the beige jacket that clung around the poor thing.
Surely he was disoriented...
Cars full of selfish people not caring about a 1st grader alone on the street flew by, first a black car, then a white car, then another black car. Young Dazai had no clue what was going on. The sudden change from his locked room to some random place on the street was drastic. He felt he was about to cry, that was short lived though.
"Try again. Stand Up!"
The order came to his mind, dulling his emotions down to where in a split second he looked emotionless once more. Get up...
A small groan came from him as he stood up. Confused, but not in danger to his knowledge. He quickly checked the coat pockets of the oversized bag he was wearing. Finding nothing other than a bent blade, a pack of cigarettes, a lighter, a black handled switch blade, and a folded piece of paper with the initials 'D.K'. He opened it, not knowing what to expect.
Well, his first guess obviously wasn't that it was going to be a note from some dude named Kunikida, a few insults, and a direct address in case he ever got 'lost'
-------
It took Dazai just over an hour to stumble upon the elevator and press the button to the fourth floor. Going up, he thought about what he was getting himself into.
It could be dangerous, a random address, a random coat. But the coat felt familiar in more ways than one...
These people could be enemies. If they were anything like the people I have already killed, it would be an easy clear for future me.
Although... dying isn't all that bad of an idea, even if its to your enemies, yeah?
The elevator dinged and Dazai stepped out of it, walking towards the door with the name "Armed Detective Agency" written across it.
A foolish mistake, if leaving the address in some random coat wasn't already reckless enough.
Dazai debated on what to do before settling on either using his assassin skills or his pity trick. It certainly helped he was a child, it was much easier to get sympathy from strangers.
What if these people weren't enemies, just... acquaintances?
Future me can deal with whatever he has going on. Not my problem
Although I suppose it is, now.
Dazai settled on screaming his lungs out. (Good choice)
Right outside the agency doors, stood an eleven year old Dazai.
Bandages already on his skin, wrapped around his wrists and arms and working their way up to his neck like a snake. And you know, prey can only go so long without breath.
A moment later, came a piercing cry. Coming none other than Dazai’s lungs.