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Atsushi is just about ready to fall asleep, his breathing beginning to even out and his thoughts becoming incoherent when Dazai comes in with such force Atsushi feels he might just take the door off its hinges. Atsushi entertains the thought of lifting his head up to see Dazai from head to toe but he decides against it, fatigue stronger than anything. Instead he cracks one eye open, cheek smushed against the couch and watches. Dazai strides in, winter tailing behind him, winter at the tips of his fingers, cold radiating off of him, and his hair damp and unruly. He puts up his coat on the hanger and rolls up his sleeves.
"Atsushi-kun, where are you?" Dazai's voice is loud, almost a shout but not quite, and Atsushi stirs.
He doesn't have the chance to respond.
"Dazai." Kunikida pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose, like he always does when he is about to say something that he thinks must be followed. That said, he does push his glasses up quite often. "Would you mind keeping quiet? Atsushi is sleeping. We've been whispering for about an hour because he fell asleep on the couch."
Atsushi closes his eyes again and sighs. He is too tired to even affirm he is still awake.
"Oh." Dazai says, voice still loud. "Oh, right. Quiet. Yes." He stutters, bringing it down to a whisper. "Isn't he uncomfortable like that?"
And indeed, Atsushi becomes aware of how cramped the space is, how he must fold his legs to fit.
"He probably is." Kyouka lifts her head up from the papers she's been staring at, spinning her chair and turning towards Dazai and Kunikida. "We just came back from a job. He's tired."
Nothing can be heard for a few seconds. Then:
"Kyouka is writing a report on the job on Atsushi's behalf." Kunikida adds, ex post facto, as if Dazai asked. Atsushi makes a mental note to thank Kyouka when he wakes up.
"So what did you need Atsushi for, Dazai?" Tanizaki asks and Atsushi hears his footsteps, albeit vaguely, getting closer.
"Right." Dazai says. "I was about to take him with me on an errand."
Nobody asks anything but Atsushi knows everything nevertheless. How Kunikida raises his brows but keeps his tongue behind his teeth and how Tanizaki smiles because everybody knows, even Atsushi knows, how much Dazai favors him. And everybody knows that when Dazai takes Atsushi on an errand Atsushi comes back having eaten tea over rice.
There are things Atsushi hears, filtered through his sleep-hazed mind - he hears the unfurling of winter behind the Agency's windows, he hears the dampened sound of rain, water sliding down the metal pipes, hears cars and people. He hears the city breathing. And in his whole life he's never heard a sound this good. He almost laughs. He must be going mad.
"Well then." Dazai says and Atsushi barely registers his voice anymore. It is such a good feeling, so soft and Atsushi feels like he could sink in it.
But Dazai comes next to Atsushi and pulls up the blanket so it covers his shoulders, right up to his chin. Then his hand, always this warm, gently brushes Atsushi's hair from where the strands fell down his cheeks and eyes. Atsushi feels his heart swell up, double in size, as if it is going to overflow from inbetween his ribs. He dares not move and he dares not breathe for if he were to do so, this moment would surely shatter. He's never been this loved. He's never had this many people care for him in such a selfless manner, not wanting anything in return.
It's a stupid thing to think that this man, who often acts like a child himself, has taught Atsushi what a home feels like.
"Cold day, isn't it, Atsushi-kun?" Dazai asks and Atsushi knows he expects no answer. Dazai's voice is so fragile, so warm that it almost brings Atsushi to tears. "Always hated this kind of weather."
And before sleeps swallows him whole he thinks that Dazai must be going mad as well because for Atsushi there has been no warmer day than today.