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“You’re saying you don’t believe me?”
Dazai’s grin was, as usual, totally unreadable. Atsushi resisted the urge to glare at him. Half the stuff that comes out of your mouth is nonsense and the other half is deadly serious, how am I supposed to know which is which?! He resisted the urge to speak his mind, too, not wanting to get dragged down into a merciless bout of teasing. Instead, he said: “I pulled you out of the river the very first time we met and you were drowning. If you’re a—” ‘Mermaid’ seemed too ridiculous to even say out loud. “If you’re telling the truth, shouldn’t you be able to breathe underwater?”
Dazai laughed. “Why do you think I was in the river and not the sea? I can’t breathe fresh water.”
That— made too much sense, Atsushi thought. Fish were like that, weren’t they? They could either live in fresh water or salt water but not both? He thought he remembered reading that in a book somewhere, on a stolen quiet afternoon in the orphanage.
Dazai leaned back in his chair, apparently satisfied to have left Atsushi without a comeback. “Well, it’s not like I like to go back into the ocean, if I don’t have to.” He winked at Atsushi. “You’ll just have to take my word for it.”
Atsushi was disinclined to take Dazai’s word for anything, ever, but on the other hand, this did seem too outlandish for even him to invent out of thin air. He rolled his eyes and turned back to the paperwork that Ranpo had left unfinished from their last job. He’d ask Kunikida next time he saw him. Kunikida, at least, could be relied upon not to tease him.
…Then again, Kunikida had been the last one to find out about Dazai’s past in the Port Mafia, so he might not be the best source. Atsushi chewed on his lip, staring at the cursor blinking patiently on his computer screen. He stole another glance at Dazai, who was now totally ignoring him, upside down in his chair and face buried in a book.
“What’s wrong with the ocean?” he asked despite himself.
“Hmm?” Dazai lifted the book up, looking at Atsushi from his upside down position. His hair falling away from his forehead made him look strangely young. There was a long, raised scar along the right side of his head that Atsushi had never seen before, halfway hidden in his hairline.
“You said you don’t go back to the ocean if you don’t have to, so, why not? What is it you don’t like?”
“Ah.” Dazai pressed a finger to his lips. “That’s a secret, I’m afraid.”
“What about you isn’t?” Atsushi asked, exasperated. Dazai pressed a hand to his heart in mock offense.
“I’ve just shared one of my most closely guarded secrets with you, Atsushi.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Atsushi said, pointedly turning back to the computer screen. “I’ll believe it when I see it.”
“No promises,” Dazai said, sing-song. Atsushi ignored him.
He could ask Akutagawa. Given their track record, and how much Akutagawa liked to talk about Dazai, Atsushi imagined he’d be able to find a moment to bring it up between dodging Rashoumon the next time they met. But Atsushi would rather throw Dazai over his shoulder and toss him into the sea himself than do that, especially if it turned out Dazai was, in fact, messing with him again.
Dazai caught him sneaking another look out of the corner of his eye and gave him a grin, idly swinging his legs where they fell over the back of his chair. Atsushi, exasperated, shoved back from the desk and stood up. Everyone else in this office besides Kunikida skived off paperwork all the time, he could too.
“See you later, Atsushi!” Dazai called as he collected his bag and headed for the door. Atsushi ignored him.
Next time they were at the port, he was shoving Dazai into the sea. It would be satisfying, if absolutely nothing else.