Chapter Text
Dazai was bored, extremely. Bored enough he felt as if he was losing his mind. And while this feeling was not uncommon per se, it didn't make life at the agency any better. The room was eerie silent, everyone focused on their own work and projects coming up. But Dazai Osamu wanted more than that—he wanted action—and he didn't know how to get it. How annoying, he'd think to himself as his fingers rhythmically tapped against his desk. The clock's ticking was driving him crazy.
When he was confident nobody watched, he discreetly slipped out of the room and down the hallway. Once out of sight from everyone, he sighed dramatically and placed his hands on his hips.
"Man, everyone's been so cooped up lately." Dazai would comment to himself without much thought about it, mindlessly walking through the hallway as if he were a ghost. Sometimes, he certainly felt like one, just wandering aimlessly with no destination in sight or mind. It took several minutes for him to come up with an idea on what to do in the middle of June, but finally! It came to him! His usually somewhat dead looking eyes lit up and off he'd ran down the hallway.
When he returned, he had the biggest grin on his face, opening the door loud enough to startle everybody in the room. Kunikida whipped his head around, his face painted with something that screamed 'unamused.' Atsushi took a couple seconds to react, but he'd looked over eventually. Good, Dazai thought to himself, his tongue sticking out automatically.
"You'd better listen to me now, because I won't repeat myself!" Dazai exclaimed, though by then he was sure that he had everybody's attention by then.
"Before someone, Kunikida, asks, I did get this approved by the President." He quickly added, which provoked Kunikida's eyebrow to raise, but the mentioned one did not speak despite the slight facial movements. With that, Dazai grinned and began speaking once more.
"I got us a beach vacation arranged! I've already worked out seating arrangements, too! I figured we've been cooped up lately with little to no free time. Anyway! Atsushi sits in the middle, I sit on the right and Ranpo sits on the left side. Kyouka and Kenji sit in the wayyy back because they're our youngest members. Kunikida drives, Yosano has the passenger seat! We leave in two days, so pack your bags!" It was more so a paragraph rather than one sentence, a habit Osamu had picked up as a child and never properly stopped.
For a second, the room was silent and all that was heard was a clock ticking. Then, a sigh.
"Can't. Already knew about your plan so I texted Ed to drive me over, and I'm not putting him in a cramped car." Ranpo announced, his arms moving to the back of his head in a relaxed manner. Dazai's excited expression faded into a slight deadpan, but he quickly regained his 'optimism', if you could even really call it that.
"Right, so I guess I'll just sit with Atsushi then. Anyway! We'll be running to the store later to pick up some stuff, if anyone wants to come along, they're more than welcome to!" He beamed, though the mention of a store caught Atsushi's ears and attention alike.
"Wait, we are? You didn't mention that earlier." He couldn't help but ask— this was the first time that day that Dazai had mentioned anything about a store, therefore changing the schedule a bit. The aforementioned man just shrugged and nodded as if he hadn't suddenly messed up everybody's schedules completely. He was like a smug cat sometimes, Atsushi noticed it a while ago.
The store was, unsurprisingly, filled to the brim with people preparing for last minute trips or upcoming ones, Dazai noted. Most of them being mothers buying clothes for their children, or middle aged women looking for a new swimsuit. Dazai didn't care about them, though, he'd come here to get his poor coworker more summer clothes that he, apparently, didn't have. Though, he did understand why. It wasn't like orphanages bought several piles of clothes for the kids, maybe some did if they had the money to but it seemed like Atsushi's wasn't the greatest place in the universe. Most likely, they didn't have much funding. But that was not why he'd came here, so he dropped the thought.
He wasn't really sure why Kunikida had been dragged along, as he had somewhat forgotten by then, but he wasn't complaining either. He was fond of the company that was brought with it, even if he did get yelled at half the time. It was better than having his own brain yell at him, wasn't it?
Atsushi trailed behind the two, his eyes glancing around. He wasn't sure why, or more importantly how, Dazai knew he didn't have much clothing, he didn't recall ever bringing it up in any conversation. In his rational mind, he knew he wasn't being stared at by anybody. If anything, Dazai was getting all the stares because of how many bandages were wrapped around his arms and because he was walking in a somewhat ridiculous manner, but he would still glance around as if suspecting a stare from someone.
"Dazai, are you sure it's fine for me to be here? It feels kind of awkward, I don't even know my own size." Atsushi finally asked, standing just in front of the men's section. He'd chosen the word 'awkward' because it sounded less stupid than 'intimidating', which was far more accurate. It really did feel like the clothes were about to start mocking him for not being some super muscular man, which was ridiculous, he knew. Dazai, when spoken to, was ready to respond with some smug comment...but then just froze. Atsushi blinked, confused.
"I'd have to guess you're a small." Kunikida answered, either not noticing or not caring about Dazai's freeze up, as he ran his fingers over some shirt he found and quickly pulling away when the texture was anything but kind. Despite this, he was well aware of what Atsushi was actually talking about. This had nothing to do with his status and lack of parents, he could tell just by the look on his face.
Meanwhile, Dazai's brain was running one thousand miles per second. Atsushi was an orphan, Dazai had known that. But it had just dawned on him that, if his orphanage hated him as much as he said it did, he'd probably never been face to face with this much clothing before. Not as a child, not as a teenager. Not one single time, of course it was awkward to him. So he just as awkwardly—as if he were a parent ready to educate their preteen—turned around with an extremely forced smile on his face.
"Tell me, Atsushi...have you ever actually been in the men's section before?" Asked Dazai, lowering his voice to avoid outsiders from overhearing. Even if they did, he could easily threaten them to mind their business. He'd had experience in threatening people, after all! Well, he was mostly good at threatening to take his own life...but the point still stood tall. He could intimidate someone if necessary.
The question sounded so targeted that Atsushi subconsciously stiffened, only slightly, but shook his head slowly. "No, not really." He'd started, before realising that information could easily put him in a very vulnerable position, one he didn't especially want to be in. "I-I mean, only because the orphanage didn't really take us kids to stores or anything!" He corrected, nearly slipping over his words. He could feel his face heating, but tried to force the redness down.
Dazai blinked, ready to respond to the seemingly random—though he'd known it wasn't truly random, he wasn't a moron—burst of panic but was swiftly interrupted by Kunikida adjusting his glasses.
"That makes sense. Orphanages dont always get enough funding to be able to afford clothes at this price." Replied the taller man, his arms crossed. Atsushi wasn't sure why he'd come along either, but all he knew was that he'd just spared Atsushi from the dread of having to explain, well, anything really.
Dazai looked over, then gestured for the smallest of the three of them to run along and find clothes. Atsushi didn't waste time, he quickly walked off albeit extremely awkwardly. With him gone, Dazai's eyes centered themselves onto Kunikida, still looking through shirts.
I know you saw that flicker of panic in his eyes too, Kunikida.
But still, you said nothing.
I'm sure he'd appreciate that if he didn't think you were oblivious.
Dazai would think that to himself silently, not daring to say it aloud in case Atsushi overheard and felt attacked. In fact, he wasn't barely aware of what he was doing until he'd fully approached the other man. More accurately, he'd thrown himself into his personal space and hadn't been fully engaged with his surroundings until his shoulder made contact. Kunikida glanced back at him, but didn't make eye contact for very long.
"You saw it too, right?" Dazai asked, a slightly more genuine smile on his face though even that held its own sense of falsehood. After he'd asked, a slight hum left his mouth as if contemplating whether to clarify or not. He knew it was odd to consider clarifying and destroying confusion, but he held little care for that subject.
"I haven't a clue about what you're going on about." Kunikida responded, his eyebrows twitching lightly as if already preparing to need to scold his coworker. It was something he'd grown accustomed to, with how often Dazai did little to no work when he was supposed to. Sometimes, it felt like he was a parent trying to wrangle his son, except he wasn't a parent and that "son" was a grown man in his twenties.
Dazai took this opportunity into the palm of his hand, lightly pulling Kunikida away from the clothing rack, his hands making their way up to his face. One remained on his cheek while the other wrapped around his neck. That hand would search for the hair that resided there, as softly as he could manage. His goal was not to harm, only to explore. He made eye contact for roughly fourty five seconds, then let them trail down to his lips. Oh, how the shape of them captivated his attention like never before. He hadn't given them much thought in the past, but Kunikida had very kiss-able lips now that he was actually looking at them, the desire to steal a kiss from him right then and there was burning, a wild fire conjoined with a feeling of toxicity in his stomach, causing it to shift and suddenly be overcome with an intense nausea. Breathing suddenly felt impossible.
"Why is it always the most handsome faces who have to play oblivious?" Dazai murmured, loud enough for Kunikida to overhear, his fingers tracing the skin on his coworkers face. His heart, ever so dead to his mind, seemed to pound louder than a tornado siren. It beat more intensely than it had for a while, it was enough to make him think he'd had a heart disease that went unnoticed. His entire body felt slightly tingly, though he was unsure of whether that was out of thrill or....something else. He felt like he was trembling yet he wasn't, his body hot and eyes half-lidded and oddly wet. But he wasn't crying, at least he didn't think he was and he felt no real tears, so he really had no clue as to why they were so damp. Was it his eyes? Or was he misreading his own body?
"Dazai, what are you talking about? We're in broad daylight, save your weird behaviour for the office and not here because you look like an idiot, get off me." Kunikida broke the rather awkward environment. He didn't seem uncomfortable, more so...well, he face of pure confusion, so that should be a clue as to what he was feeling. As this moment between them occurred, a family walked by, the youngest child turning over to stare at the two of them. The child's mother gasped, then quickly covered their eyes and speed walked past. It was only then did Dazai realise what his actions looked like: completely inappropriate given the situation. So as quickly as he got close, he pushed himself and shoved his hands into his pocket.
"Right..." Dazai nodded, now feeling incredibly awkward after having been so close to Kunikida, who'd seemed more confused rather than anything else. Even so, he wasn't quite sure how he was supposed to come back from looking as if he were in heat just a moment prior. The aura around the two of them now felt very constricting, but also quite shaky. He wasn't sure if Kunikida had picked up on his slight flirtation and just not cared, or if he hadn't noticed it at all. Both were possible.
Thankfully, this awkward silence was broken when Atsushi walked back holding...absolutely nothing.
"Didn't I send you away to go find clothes you like?" Dazai asked, successfully recovering from the previous tension with lighthearted banter. Atsushi nodded, then scratched the back of his head. He was unsure, for a lack of a better word, about how his explaination would sound.
"Well, yeah, but I don't really know what I'm supposed to do." He finally got out in a confession, his hesitation making it sound like he'd just admitted to killing an entire family. Dazai tilted his head, though it did make sense for him to not know how to shop for clothes if he'd never done it before. Before he could step in, Kunikida interrupted again.
"Thats fine, I'll assist you. The biggest rule when it comes to clothes is finding a decent texture, it plays a role in everything." He explained, as if prioritising the texture of a shirt or whatever was something regular people did. It wasn't, but Dazai wasn't going to tell him that. The last time he mentioned Kunikida being a little abnormal, the other got so defensive that he'd rescheduled his whole day into proving that he was normal. Dazai didn't feel like dealing with that again, not when they had a vacation coming up. A time meant to de-stress.
Atsushi wasn't really following completely, but he got the gist of it. He thought. Surely it wasn't that hard to pick out clothes, right? Just find what looks good. But he didn't know what looked good, he wasn't a fashion expert or anything. Okay, so maybe he still didn't fully grasp it, but he got somewhere eventually. He'd picked out a couple of shirts, mostly short sleeved considering they were going to the beach in the middle of summer, and a couple pairs of shorts and such.
"Great!" Dazai announced after around thirty minutes or so, clapping his hands in 'encouragement', he called it. "Wanna try anything on before we check out?" He offered, but Atsushi would actually rather die than need to try anything on in a store's fitting room. He wasn't nearly confident enough for that, so he rapidly shook his head. Dazai shrugged, but paid no mind to it.
When eight rolled around the next morning, Kunikida had assured that everyone had eaten and gone to the bathroom before they'd begun their drive. It was an eight hour long trip, after all. Once it was confirmed that nobody needed anything at the moment, they got into their seating arrangements. It's mostly stayed the same, Kyouka and Kenji sat in the way back while Dazai and Atsushi sat in the back. The only thing that had really changed was that Yosano was driving instead of Kunikida, who claimed it was because he didn't like driving long distances. Typical for him.
It didn't take long for them to start driving, the scenery rapidly changing before their very eyes. Dazai was content like this, wearing headphones with music with rather alarming topics and lyrics, as he zoned out and blankly stared out the window. Occasionally he'd pick up a book and read a couple pages, but those moments were few and far between. What most likely happened half the time was that he'd end up falling asleep, then startling himself awake. It was an odd sight for Atsushi, who didn't really have much to do and figured he'd may as well try to get some more sleep.
Around the five and a half hour mark is when Atsushi awoke, suddenly feeling suffocated and unable to breathe. He supposed he'd had it coming for him for a good while, but that didn't make the feeling any less discomforting. Air felt so far away from him, which resulted in his breathing being a tad bit unstable. Despite this, it was quiet and almost unnoticeable, almost unseen and gone ignored. But he'd mentally cursed his luck when Dazai, of course, glanced over and shot Atsushi an extremely knowing look as if to say 'I know what you're doing.' Though, he wasn't sure if it was supposed to be mocking or not.
Uncomfortably, he shifted in his seat though assuring it wouldn't give away his discomfort to anybody else in the car. Dazai's eyes narrowed as he did so—he'd noticed, of course he did—which only served to make the poor weretiger even more uncomfortable, near vulnerable. Atsushi sat still after that, silently hoping and praying that he wouldn't have to talk about this with Dazai of all people, the one most unpredictable person in the Agency.
Because why would he get it?
He wouldn't, he wouldn't get it at all. It's Dazai, he'd probably make some dumb comment about it.
Atsushi was extremely confident with this assumption, neglecting to consider that the way he was sitting was just a tad bit too stiff, too uncomfortable. He wasn't as subtle as he thought he was, unfortunately, for Dazai and taken off his headphones.
"Hey, Yosano. Mind pulling into the nearest gas station real quick?" He called out, earning a slight glance from the aforementioned woman. She gave him a quick glance over, but then gave a slight shrug and pulled in anyway.
"If you stopped drinking so much water, you wouldn't have to pee every two hours." She advised, even though he hadn't really listened and practically dragged Atsushi out of the car. Weirdly enough, nobody questioned it.
The bathroom was somewhat cramped and wasn't ideal for this type of conversation, Dazai could admit that. But that wasn't what he was focused on necessarily. Wellc he did somewhat focus on how unfitting the environment was for the conversation he was about to have, but for the most part these thoughts avoided getting sucked into his mind.
"You know, I'm probably not the person you should be copying. What, are you trying to kill yourself too?" He finally spoke, cutting through the slight tension that had formed between the two.
Atsushi avoided eye contact with him, as if hoping that'd help him fake obliviousness.
"What do you mean? I'm not copying you at all, I'm not suicidal like you are." He protested, rubbing his arm.
Dazai sighed, rather dramatically at that, and glanced around the bathroom for several moments. He had no rhyme or reason to, it was just what he'd felt like doing for the several moments of tense silence that lingered through the air.
Before Atsushi could open his mouth to say anything else, Dazai pointed at his chest. Shit— he knew? Atsushi wasn't even really sure how, he never mentioned it. Immediately, his face flushed and he continued looking at the super interesting pattern on the floor. Which is to say he was still avoiding his gaze, there was no pattern on the floor.
"Sure seems like you are." He commented, but it lacked its usual mocking tone and more so just flatness. Concern? Maybe, but it was hard for either of them to tell.
Finally, Dazai let out another breath. Usually, he'd be fine with such a remark and having no regret about it. But this one just felt cruel, unusually cruel.
"Come on. Let me help you fix those bandages before you break your ribs, it's not good for you in the long run. I'm great with bandages." He offered with a half-assed shrug. Atsushi wasn't sure whether to be worried by this or not.
On one hand, at least he cared. On the other? It was extremely worrying to hear someone like Dazai admit that something wasn't good for him. The guy was notorious for trying to commit suicide daily in all sorts of ways, so to hear him say that was alarming.
But Atsushi nodded regardless, maybe it's give him some ability to actually breathe. They still had three hours to go, after all, and being unable to take in air for those three hours would be extremely unpleasant.
The rest of the car ride had gone rather smoothly, for the most part, and they'd reached their hotel by around six-ish. Normally, Atsushi would've eaten with the rest of the group, but he was tired. His body was too heavy to have any energy to eat, so he'd just made his way up to his hotel room once he'd had his key.
The room was enveloped in darkness, the sun already having set. Atsushi didn't bother to turn the lights on, he was about to go to sleep anyway so he saw no point. Before he laid down, he unlocked the window and opened it to let some of the cool air in. The smell of salt quickly filled his senses, but it wasn't too intolerable. It was pretty nice, all things considered. Quickly, he changed into his pyjamas and stumbled into bed. The sheets felt cooling, and the pillows were so soft he felt as if he were in heaven. Had he died? Maybe, maybe not. Either way, he would sleep rather good on that night.