Work Text:
The Armed Detective Agency had always been your comfort place in the world. Maybe it was because of the ambience, or maybe because your friends were there. Perhaps both were the reason. The building was a place where you could feel loved without judgement, no matter how hard life was being on you. There would always be people there willing to hear you and support you, and that surely made it special.
Whenever you were feeling down, even if you didn't have to work that day, you would still go hang around with the rest of the people there, sharing facts about a recent mission or planning an upcoming one. It cheered you up instantly and nothing could ever replace that feeling of having somewhere to belong to. Friends like that didn't come easily to you. You were grateful for having a spot in the Agency.
That building truly was your second home.
Most of the days.
Unless, today, your second home had become more like a war zone rather than a home. Stress crawled up your back at the smallest inconvenience. And you didn't even know why it felt like that. Why you had to feel like that. You didn't want to, because not only it was annoying to you, but surely it was annoying to the members as well, or so your mind told you. Of course if you thought objectively, it was obvious that they weren't annoyed. But your brain often played as your worst enemy.
You had never been the best at handling stressing situations. That's what Kunikida was for. You admired the man's ability to take control of chaotic environments so naturally... Even though half of his instructions implied yelling nonsense and telling Dazai to shut up, they were still effective. No wonder why everyone considered him the best choice in case of needing a new president.
You surely were not cut out for that kind of leadership. The thought of it made your heartbeat quicken in fear. Whenever you got stressed, you would either pick at your fingers unconsciously, not actually wanting to hurt yourself but as a poor coping mechanism you had developed during your childhood and hadn't been able to either stop doing it nor replace it with a healthier one. Bad habits sucked.
You'd cover your ears at the slightest loud noise or, in the worst cases, panic. Your hearing condition didn't exactly make your life easier, if you had to be honest with yourself. But to the rest of the people around you, it always looked like you just were easily frightened, and you hadn't wanted to bother them and explain how everything always sounded so loud. You knew that they cared about you just as much as you cared about them, but talking about your struggles was something you preferred to avoid. Leaving the explaining aside, your condition certainly hadn't made your life easier today of all days.
You see, today was the purest definition of extreme chaos. You would have never guessed it was going to end up like this. The day had started pretty well, however. The sun shining, no cold weather, no nightmares nor headaches on your side. It promised to be a peaceful morning, though it turned out the opposite. You had arrived to work, said your hellos, sat on your desk and got to work with the last case on your computer like normal. Finishing that report before the end of the day was the only thing on your mind at the moment, having already promised to complete it for that afternoon or else... well, nothing would actually happen. Only Kunikida would fly off the handle and have you do twice the work for the rest of the week as punishment for your irresponsibility.
In any case, the morning had been going like the ordinary. That is, until the argument iniciated.
How or when it had begun, you weren't exactly sure. You had been focused on your screen as you typed and drank your coffee. But one second you were writing your document peacefully and then the other, everyone's voice levels started to increase.
This was the kind of situation that you loathed and attempted to dodge at all costs. It was always better to run off and avoid it than to stand tall at the centre of it all. But it had become so overwhelming that you just freezed on your seat, like a frightened animal, not moving, just staring right into your computer’s screen though you weren’t actually reading nor typing anything.
-”If you just stopped eating for one minute and listened to me!”- Kunikida pointed at the papers in front of him and slammed his hand on the table, furious.
-”You’re boring”- Ranpo stuck his tongue out at him, with his usual childish demeanour.
Kunikida clenched his fists, his rage escalating by the second.
Still looking at your computer but fully aware of the tension that was building up in the room you were in, you tried to breathe through it. To turn a deaf ear and ignore them, like everyone else seemed to be doing. Just like you had practiced hundreds of times at therapy and at home. Why was it so challenging then? Inhale for four. Hold for two. Exhale for six. What had been easy on other occasions, was
now, for some reason, getting arduous. You cursed yourself for it.
It was honestly a very stupid and unnecessary argument. Kunikida was noisily scolding Ranpo for eating too many snacks, as always, claiming that they were already running out of supplies for the fourth time that week, and it was only Wednesday. The situation worsened when Tanizaki and Atsushi joined, voicing their opinions from their seats, attempting to interfere and stop the bickering but accidentally adding more fuel to the flames. Now four voices were overlapping and yelling incoherences from different places of the office.
And to aggravate it all, you were sitting in the center of the room. The infuriated voices reached your ears from multiple directions. You began to struggle figuring out what they were even saying, because they only sounded like noise to you at this point. Your heart was pounding so hard in your ears that the voices became muffled and distorted. You lifted your gaze up and tried to look at your friends, but your vision was blurry. Your eyes darted from one face to another, focusing on their mouths. You could see them moving. However, the only things you could hear were your heartbeat and a really annoying ringing sound in your head that wouldn't let you think straight.
When you tried counting your breaths once more, you became aware of a small detail. 'I can't breathe'. Your inhales came in quick, uncontrolled gasps and a stabbing sensation pierced through your chest when you made an attempt to inhale like a decent person would. Or at least like someone who wasn’t about to fall apart.
Desperately and instinctively, your right hand went to your wrist, trying to feel your pulse, although you already knew it was going fast. Still, you couldn't prove your theory true because your hands were shaking too much to feel anything. If they actually let you feel something, it was the sensation of them growing more numb each second.
Even though you were silently collapsing in your place, everyone seemed too locked in the argument to notice your struggles. Mostly because on the outside it didn't look like you were going through something serious, in spite of how it felt on your head. So, unless someone was paying enough attention to notice, it didn't stand out that something was clearly wrong on your side.
You were thankful not to be really seen in that moment, considering how ridiculous you must have looked, but you were also deeply terrified. You needed help, not knowing what to do with the situation you were trapped in. But you couldn't bring yourself to ask for help this time. Dragging their attention meant explaining. The 'what's wrong' question always made you burst into tears before even finishing the first sentence. Gee, you couldn't even say two words without crying when it came to telling others how you felt. It was always better to deal with it alone than to bother others with your annoying vulnerable moments.
'I just have to wait. I have to wait, and eventually, they'll stop yelling', you thought. The argument had to quiet down at some point, right? You tried to endure it as much as you could. But when an empty can of chips (surely tossed by Ranpo) flew above your head and you had to duck fastly in order to dodge it, your blood system was struck with adrenaline, and that was it for your barely existent self control.
'Air. I just need some fresh air and it’ll be fine. I'll be fine'. Feeling like the situation was driving you crazy and you were about to completely lose it (if you hadn't by then), you slowly and stealthily got up from your seat, mumbling something about going out for a walk, even though nobody seemed to hearken to your statement, before rushing towards the door and disappearing into the hallway.
You felt your feet carrying you somewhere not so far from the conference room, but you weren't grounded enough in the present to care about where you were heading to. You were just pushing doors and leaning on walls until your body found a slightly quieter corner. You ended up in the supply room next to the conference room where the argument was taking place, curled up beside some boxes, trying not to make too much sound. You hugged your knees, burying your face in your arms. 'Why did I bother excusing myself to get out of there? They weren't listening to me anyway. Stupid, stupid, stupid' your usual thoughts were flooding your mind at light speed.
Little did you know that a certain individual had actually been watching all of your little mental breakdown scene from his own desk in one corner of the room. Although it normally didn't look like it, Osamu Dazai was a very observant person who didn’t miss even the smallest details, regardless of his usual carefree demeanour. Because of that, when your breath first hitched, he’d noticed right away, not only because he had heard you, but due to the way your chest had heaved. Albeit you commonly denied it, your body language was easily readable. Especially to people like him. He'd been watching you casually since the argument began to form, fully aware of your tendency to spiral in environments like those. He'd seen you panic before, but you had always run off before anyone could ask you if you were okay.
Because of that, he decided to give you a minute or two of space before getting up from his spot and heading towards the door that you’d left ajar. Being instantly followed wouldn't have made you feel better. 'This will be interesting' he thought. With a hand on the doorknob, something caught his attention and he paused. He shot a glance to a pair of headphones that laid on a nearby desk, likely from one of the members involved in the altercation. Surely they wouldn't notice if they went missing temporarily.
-"Hmm, don't mind if I do~"- He said in a playful tone as he grabbed the headphones and exited the room discreetly.
It didn't require a high level of intelligence to figure out where your hiding spot was, since you were poorly failing to muffle your gasps and they could be heard from outside the supply room. Despite being one room apart, the argument was still in range of hearing from there. Not trusting to leave you alone much longer, he gently pushed the door open to enter your little hideout, and made his way inside.
You tensed when you heard the door opening, and flinched away as you heard the sound of footsteps, his footsteps, coming closer. Hugging your knees tighter, you hid your face between your arms. He saw how much you were shaking and sighed. Bringing you back to the present was going to be hard.
-"Just where I thought you'd be"- The man approached you until he was standing right in front of you and kneeled in his place, so he wasn't towering over you and you could see him or at least be aware of where he was standing. You tensed when you felt something sliding on your head.
-"Easy, just let me... There we go"- He smiled softly as he placed the headphones he'd brought on your ears. You relaxed almost immediately, letting out a breath you did not know you had been holding as the voices from the room next door quieted down under the pressure of the headphones. You tried to touch them to ground yourself, but your hands still trembled. You felt a bit calmer as Dazai's hands pressed above yours on the headphones to help you.
-"Now, I'm no one to judge, but breathing like that is not going to make you feel any better. And I'm sorry to inform you that you can’t die of oxygen deprivation from not breathing properly. Believe me, I know. You will pass out and start breathing normally. That is, of course, unless you enjoyed this type of feeling, in which case, I suppose I'll leave you be"- He gave you that nonchalant smirk of his. You didn't see it but you could hear it in his voice.
You shakily lifted your gaze up to meet his face. You couldn't even reach out and pull his sleeve, even less bring yourself to talk but he could tell what you were trying to communicate to him with your tired eyes anyway. 'You're insufferable... But please don't leave'. He sighed, a small smile visible on his face when he finally got a reaction out of you. As if he was going to leave you alone.
He lowered himself next to you on the floor, his eyes closed as he sat and rested his arms on his knees, similar to you but way less tense -"Relax, I'm not going anywhere. Hmm, I didn't know you loved me so much not to want me to leave so bad"- He pretended to flinch when you hit his arm with your fist, though he sensed how weak you felt due to the lack of strength in your punch.
-”Shut...up"- You managed to say, trying to laugh, though it sounded more like a rough exhale. You attempted to inhale but your breath hitched mid way.
-"Okay, okay"- He put his arms behind his head -"Seriously, though, just... Slow down your breathing, alright? The noise won’t reach you as much now”- He tilted his head at you, scanning your face with his gentle eyes -“You’re okay”- The tone in his voice made you feel safe, it's something you had always experienced when you were with him. You noticed your vision blurry with tears but you wiped them quickly. You wouldn't cry. Not right there. Dazai made no comment on it.
You attempted to slow your breathing rhythm, but it was hard and soon you were gasping again. Absentmindedly, Dazai started tapping his foot gently on the floor. At first you didn't understand the meaning of it, as he kept staring at the opposite wall like that paint stain was the most interesting thing he’d seen in years. But then you realized he was actually setting the pace of his breaths, so you could match yours easier. You were thankful for that.
At first, your attempts failed, and you just curled tighter into yourself. Dazai's tone never drifted to an annoyed or disappointed one. It stayed reassuring. -"You're doing good, give it another shot"- And then he would make small comments, mocking Kunikida or just distracting you with whatever came to mind. Whenever your breathing started to rush again, he would softly guide you to match him once more. He never told you to 'calm down already', or to 'stop overreacting' like your brain kept telling you over and over again. Instead, his encouragements effectively got you out of your spiralling state.
It took you some more minutes and a lot of failed attempts before you actually started breathing properly. The numbness of your fingers slowly disappearing and the fog on your mind dissipating.
-"There you go. Much better, isn't it?"- He gave you a sideway glance. When your breathing finally evened out, you suddenly felt really exhausted. All the tension and the fear you had been carrying went away at once, leaving you physically and emotionally drained. Too exhausted to overthink it, you shifted closer to him and leaned against his side to rest your head on his shoulder. It felt more comfortable, safer and calmer than how you’d felt before.
-"You didn't hurt your fingers this time"- He simply acknowledged as if it wasn't a big deal. Just a simple statement. You felt shocked at that. You had made great effort not to let anyone find out about your habit. You were embarrassed about it and gave it your all not to do it in public. Had he known all along?
-"Yeah, I knew. I see everything, you know?"- He smirked as if reading your mind and closed his eyes. You dared to risk a glance at your hands. Indeed, your thumbs were intact. -"I'm proud of you"- He added, before falling silent once more.
-"Hey, you're in no position to comment anything about it, Mr Bandage Guy, you’re no better at handling it than I am"- You chuckled tiredly, shaking your head.
-"Oh, so that's how it's gonna be, huh?”- He answered, feigning offense - “Accept my congratulations, because I doubt I’ll be giving them again any time soon"- He looked away, crossing his arms to add to his tone.
-"You really are insufferable"- You sighed, also pretending to be annoyed, though both of you knew that you were right where you wanted to be. Sitting in a supply room, between boxes and dirty objects, away from the noise, with each other.
The two of you stayed like that for a little longer. You could have broken the contact a while ago, but honestly? You didn’t feel like it. So your head kept resting on his shoulder. He didn't mind. Not like he would say it of course, even less let anyone else do it. But if it was you doing it, it was okay. Without giving it much thought, you quietly whispered.
-"Thank you".
Not giving it much though either, he slowly slided one arm around your back and lifted his hand to your head, softly beginning to untangle strands of your hair as he rested his head on top of yours.
-"Hmm… Any time".
- THE END -