Dazai left the Port Mafia at age 18 and in doing so, left his boyfriend (also a Mafia executive) behind.
The turmoil and betrayal that someone felt was never mentioned, nor exposed, after that fateful night. It was safe to say that the two fated souls have never quite matched since then. The trust wasn't as blinding, the emotions were never completely care. The uncertainty and distrust cost them greatly.
Which is why when they were paired up again, they had lost that intimate level of coordination they hadwhen they were 18.
The time that they spent separated while carrying the remnants of the harsh heartbreak, was a time of moderate personal growth. Instead of growing alongside each other and admiring each other's attributes while doing so, they were left in their own company.
It wasn't rewarding.
Chuuya's now rare fashion sketches and poetry became mere outlines and shadows matching a man he used to know. The glasses of wine would disappear as quickly as a shooting star and would provide that hope and relief which had been taken.
But Dazai? Dazai was left to ruin and decay. Being left to his own devices was a recipe for destruction. The darkness in his mind gave that artistic relief and outlet he used to indulge in during his youth but later revered. Substances also cursed him with the light floaty freedom he desperately craved, a combination that was addictively deadly.
Throughout their identity death, the few sketches of Chuuya that randomly appeared during some sporadic moments were enough for one to keep going, and the other to resist the drowning urge to avoid and erase their existence entirely.
It wasn't until one stormy, snowy skied evening, basked in moonlight merely 6 months ago, that the fated pair laid eyes on one another again.
It had been their anniversary.
If the two had continued to be together from when they were 17, they would've hit their 5 years of loyalty.
It was February.
The moonlight was cascading down the river, illuminating not only its dark waters, but the crushed gravel and growing grass on the bank, both of which were recovering from the harsh winter. The water produced its gentle waves to carry the calming cool breeze, the temperature was borderlining a negative zero.
As the night was a time to be reborn, the air was being cleansed, the cold temperature clearing a stranger's polluted lungs.
As an individual, their footsteps echoed in the night as a lone sound - their shoe broke the gravel beneath until they came to a stop.
This was a time of mourning what was lost.
Shadows were cast by obscure structures behind him, but the brunet could only focus on the light - Its glow being a sparse source of comfort in his misunderstood existence, grieving what had been lost.
Dazai's face that evening portrayed one of solemn reflection and longing. It wasn't full of regret or sorrow; he can live with his merciless curse to hurt all those he cares about, instead he just wished childishly, that the one whose heart he so violently destroyed, would be okay. He didn't expect or foolishly hope for forgiveness, it was just a distant dream in his mind - one he would never dwell on, and would instead, lock in a box at the back of his consciousness.
"I'm honestly surprised a bastard like you looks so solemn, you never had a heart so why the hell are you here"
Dazai's eyes briefly widened before returning to his usual cold, surprisingly for once uncalculated gaze - not noticeable to the eye - to everyone else excluding his previous partner, his honest other half, Chuuya Nakahara. He turned his head to the origin of the unequivocally unmistakable voice.
There, in front of him, stood the stunning figure.
The man's vibrant ginger hair was being blown in the breeze, but still remained in virtually perfect form. His face held more structure now, and there was the distinct smell of oak and cinnamon mixed distinctly with Chuuya Nakahara's signature brand of cigarettes.
His overwhelming presence was calming to the brunette despite his brash personality.
"Delightful evening for a stroll don't you think?! The river was just calling my name you know"
Despite a somewhat casual response, it lacked its usual level of enthusiasm. He knew he could lie and mask this encounter, but truly, the brunette didn't want to fully conform to that temptation. There was a mild yearning for truth, one that both individuals couldn't deny.
"Why here Dazai?"
They both knew what they were asking.
Why the place where you asked me
He swallowed.
Emotions were not his strong suit. He did not intend to make this situation more painful for him.
"Reminiscing! Waste of time if you-"
Chuuya slapped him.
"Cut the fucking bullshit"
You know Chuuya was running overwhelmingly high on emotions at that moment if profanities became more prominent
"It's our anniversary isn't it…. There isn't really any other place I'd want to be Chibi"
The weight of Dazai's words hung thickly between them.
"Dazai. It's over. You left me-"
"I left the Port Mafia-"
"And in doing so me!"
Each word cut deep for both of them.
They stood in silence until Osamu broke it.
"Will you be willing to listen?"
Chuuya's first instinct was, of course, no. But unfortunately, the ginger has had no truth in his disappearance. No facts as far as the executive is concerned, and truth be told, he wants answers.
"Fine. Sit."
He gestured to a bench a few yards away.
That evening, on what would have been their 5 year anniversary, Dazai explained what happened with his friend and what Mori orchestrated to ensure what he wanted to happen happened, leaving out details of the creature wanting more control over the brunette, out.
In the end, Dazai was gifted some understanding from Chuuya.
"Things aren't and won't be the same between us mackerel, I'm not sure if they ever will be again, but I don't hate you."
For that he could only be grateful.
"But I'm not sure when, or if, I'll ever trust you again"
"Can I at least talk to the chibi?"
He had to ask. The brunette knew he didn't deserve a thing, but he was just too curious not to. He was more than prepared for Chuuya to lash out - maybe hit or shout at him - but that was not the case.
"Don't be ridiculous mackerel, you already have my damn number. Just don't bother me while I'm at work idiot"
With that the ginger got up from the bench and began to walk away.
They have been in touch ever since.
The first conversation was awkward to say the least, but before too long, they reverted somewhat, into a moderately familiar connection. The past never failed to loom over them, but as long as none of that was mentioned for now, things became more tolerable for both of them. Their days became just that bit lighter.
Now, the two just talk from time to time about work, people, friends or just chatting about topics and life, Dazai just cherishes any moment he can get.
_______
The walls of Dazai's apartment have never looked so bleak. His body wasn't his own, his secrets neither. Everything was wrong . The weight was wrong, the skin felt wrong, it was soft, his skin wasn't soft! The hair was long, not his usual length, the clothes were different, they had a different texture, different weight!
Everything was WRONG!!!
He grabbed his hair tightly as he began to hyperventilate and pace back and forth.
I can't do this
I can't do this
Everything is wrong
EVERYTHING IS FRICKIN WRONG
I CAN'T FIX IT
I CAN ALWAYS FUCKING FIX IT
There was no fixing this.
It was out of his control.
Suddenly, the ringtone broke him out of his head.
The man stood still.
Perfectly still.
Slowly, he approached the technology that was in the coat he just discarded on the floor.
Chibi 🤪🐕
Quickly, he declined the call.
Chibi 🤪🐕
Wtf, why aren't you answering
It's just easier to text rn
Chibi 🥰🫶
Why tf are you being so weird
Ayo?
Yes, yes all fine 🙃✌️
What about your wife, did she
Fix her red heels?
Her red heels? Why yes! She looked
rather stunning, even gave me
my own show after our business
meeting.
Dazai you could've just
done a basic frickin answer!
But Chibi! What's the fun
In that!? Details are everything
you know!
Oh shut up Mackerel.
Cannot believe I am willing to
put up with this.
Ah yes what a mistake you made
that day my dear Chibbiko!
Would you stop CALLING
ME THAT!!!
AND WHAT DID I TELL
YOU ABOUT SAYING
THAT CRAP!
Dazai only felt mildly better after speaking for hours with Chuuya. Before soon, the hollow feeling and panic slowly settled uncomfortably in his body again.
He didn't even have his pain to distract him.
The thoughts immediately began drowning him all over again; the mass of it crushing his tolerance levels.
The treacherous night was one of the worst he's ever endured.
He would take nightly torture trainings to this any day for the pure reason at the very least he was himself. It was his body, his weight, his pain, his mind.
This?! THIS?!
NONE OF THIS WAS HIS.
Dazai ultimately wondered whether this vessel he was inhabiting was causing more stress than relief.
After talking with his beloved mass murderer ginger, he was laying in his own futon, yet it didn't feel completely his. This body dysregulated everything. Just the simple bodily pressure on the ground was enough to set alarm bells off in his mind. Dazai couldn't get comfortable.
The more he acknowledged one difference and change, the more differences and changes presented themselves. Dazai's brain began to race into overdrive.
Before he could process what was happening, the adult was sat up. His fingers began flicking, scratching and grabbing each other.
That pressure wasn't enough.
The scratched hands began running and pulling at the knotted hair just creating more stress at its dishevelled state.
Rocking back and forth, he relocated his hands to picking and peeling the blonde's stupid moisturised skin which just made things worse. Tears streamed uncontrollably down his face. These weren't tears of emotion - never. They were tears of dysregulation.
He was losing control.
His mind hated the weakness, the loss of understanding.
Grounding.
The levels need to be brought down so before too long the hitting begun.
Restlessly and relentlessly pounding his skin, impulses beyond his control, violent twitches that overpower all senses as the energy coursed through his body - so quick and swift there was no stopping it.
The flashbacks poured into his mind, overwhelming it to a state of pure sheer panic.
It only stops with pure exhaustion when there's no interference, and Dazai prefers this way.
The creature he was shackled under before used unethical methods to ground the teenager.
Restraints, pain, head cages and gags.
All of them choked, panicked and suffocated him to silence, not before stressing and straining his mind more. He would get so much more wound up. He had to endure the pain from the pressured bruises and cuts inflicted by the restraints which were so incredibly painful. And as time went on, it just got worse.
Ultimately, all manner of torture was used to 'make him accustomed to such measures in the work field' as 'humans and monsters in this environment don't respond well to tantrums' but mainly, Mori applied them to mainly just make the racket stop while upholding an ethos of 'there is no such kindness in the world without a price' . It worked.
A major drawback though was, any time the buildup to a meltdown was brewing, the panic of being sedated or restrained was enough to trigger an episode that was not safe for Dazai himself.
******
When Dazai regained consciousness in the morning with not only scratch marks but immense bruising all over his face, arms, legs and torso, it further proved that his meltdowns caused so much harm to himself. The brunette never really picked up on it before because the injuries somewhat blended into the background amongst all his other injuries and immense pain. Now though... the backlash matters so much more.
The headache he had gained was almost as bad as the ones he endures in his own body. The skin of Kunikida's hands was completely bitten and ripped as well as dried blood set in between the crevices and levels, peeling backwards. It was incredibly sore, even for Dazai.
Shit.
With the state of the body Dazai was in right now, it was more than apparent that he would not be showing up for work today and it was only Day 2 of the body swap.
At this realisation, the detective brought his battered hands to his face, running his hands through the knotted locks causing him to immediately withdraw his hands from the horrific texture and hit the floor powerfully in frustration.
It was 6am and Osamu already wanted the day and their life to be over.
It took a while but at the safe haven of paper and a pen, he was able to organise his chaotic brain. Fortunately, before long, his mind cleared enough and as much as it could be and he was able to formulate a kind of mental list of things he would need to conceal his damaged state - one of his most valued skills.
Gloves
Bandages
Long shirts and jackets
Hairdressers
New glasses
Nail care
Shower
Regulation time
Lots of chilling and low stress
And things that feel right?
That last one really made Dazai's skin crawl so it was immediately crossed off.
That was just being picky.
Regardless, this list...
Shouldn't be too hard right?
Dazai rubbed the bridge of his nose.
I am definitely taking two days off.
Dazai decides to take one official day off today and text Fukuzawa and then just not show up the next day. If he does that, the adult is certain that a certain colleague will show up about 1pm which should be enough time to get the main things on the list done.
Thank the bloody ginger himself for his glorious credit card.
********
Dazai decided to tackle the easiest jobs first and that was showering.
The water was harsh and stinging but he managed. The cuts and scratches were cleaned and the blood washed away. When he emerged, his skin was clearer and he looked more presentable.
He avoided the hair completely, the most he did was quickly tie it behind as much as possible then hide it in a hat.
Then it was shopping.
Gloves, bandages and a few clothes.
The blond did try on his own clothes but it doesn't match with Kunikida's build, weight etc. so it wasn't the most comfortable. Ultimately, unless he wanted his persona to slip far too noticeably, he had to go shopping.The opticians were on the way so he got the glasses quickly repaired from the broken sides but the shopping centre as a whole required him to be exposed to crowds, noises, lights and involved him having to keep his senses heightened in case of attack. All these things demanded an excess amount of energy and time but he had to appear normal. Was everything always this loud and bright and distinctive?
Curse Kunikida for his damn specific places.
This trip meant no headphones or distractions,
Be as dedicated to this character as possible.
It doesn't matter that the cost would be too high later. They were simple tasks, he should be able to frickin handle it. It'll be fine.
The last on the list were the hairdressers and nails.
At that point he tried to disassociate as much as possible, to not be present in the face of activities that would overly stress his already injured mind.
It was more than a relief when all was over and he was back in the moderate safety of his apartment.
He spent that night exhausted and with light intermittent sleep.
******
The next day he could feel that his mask had been ripped apart.
Only bits were functional.
He didn't want to talk, textures felt too much and any little sign caused bigger reactions than were ever necessary to a neurotypical person, some may not even hear them.
Any big movements were difficult.
Any touch was torture.
The only things that he could cope with were more safe touches. None of which made sense to Dazai and severly disconcerted him.
He still functioned as he sort of functioned though - most of this was not visible to the eye, those bigger reactions just were small flinches or the movement of hands upward, but those were massive for The Demon Prodigy. Involuntary reactions were a weakness. It meant he wasn't in control.
The detective was cautious around certain objects and any mundane tasks he did with care as to not make any sudden noises or unexpected changes in sensory input.
On days like these, over-thinking things is a given. You think about how you're acting, how you are being perceived, if you're just being sensitive and to just get over it and more simple thoughts like I didn't like that and ew that was horrible and the flap your hands to get it off or wipe them repeatedly; over, and over, and over, and over again.
His phone had been off all day, purposefully ignoring everyone and everything. He knew that nothing was going to happen that required his effort or undivided attention anyway, but Kunikida decided to interrupt Dazai's day of solitude with his obnoxious presence around 11am - earlier than anticipated.
This is exactly what I-
"Dazai open this door RIGHT now!"
Kunikida was ferociously abusing Dazai's poor door with his rigorous relentless banging, causing Dazai to involuntarily flinch at the harsh thunderous waves Kunikida was emitting. Once again, an unsettling involuntary reaction. There was no doubt Kunikida's pain was acting as a catalyst in this situation, enhancing his anger and frustration.
The sounds just got louder as Dazai approached the door and carefully opened it, only for Kunikida to practically fall in.
He was grasping onto his original body for dear life.
"Why would you make me do that? Why couldn't you just answer your damn phone!"
It was as if Kunikida was on the verge of tears. His voice was weak.
For once, Dazai felt moderately empathetic until he saw Fukuzawa's broad stature standing sternly in outside the door. His voice shaking as it just did was unsettling, and now he is to deal with the president himself. Hearing his voice so human almost scared him.
"Ah, Fukuzawa"
He carefully set Kunikida on the floor, shoving all doubt, emotions and uncertainty out of sight and out of mind - for now anyway.
Laying his partner on the floor was an action to allow his body to rest and relax to an extent while addressing the matter at hand that prompted this appearance - giving Kunikida that much needed, mild temporary relief.
He'll address why later, all of a sudden, his coworkers' voices seem as daunting as voices before his years in the mafia. Even as vague as the memory is, it fought its way to the front of his mind.
Why suddenly, did every voice feel like knives to his ears?
For once, he considered his slightly impaired hearing a blessing instead of a curse. Dazai had forgotten how painful full peripheral hearing actually is and could be.
Dazai's hearing wasn't bad, it just wasn't nearly as effective as the average human, same with his eyesight. Despite these injuries and deficiencies, his intellect, senses and knowledge made up the difference. You can tell so much just from the vibrations around you.
"Dazai."
It was rare he would make appearances, especially in situations like this.
Except, they've never been in a situation like this before.
That statement was generalised and conditioned to a situation that involved two of his employees that wasn't a case for immediate and prioritised attention.
"Anything you are particularly here for, President?"
"I'll tell you what we're here for" Kunikida stated from the floor, trying to keep oxygen in his lungs while fighting the seizing pain relentlessly flaring up. The floor was not helping anymore.
Fukuzawa lightly raised his hand against Kunikida's action and explained himself.
"Two of the most valuable members of the armed detective agency are out of commission, so, I decided to accompany and assist Kunikida here with being by your side."
To Dazai, this was horrific.
Layers and layers of deeply woven fabricated masks were losing their intricate detail and it felt as if they were being pryed off Dazai's possessed body. Kunikida wasn't going to keep Dazai's secrets, and why should he?
Despite this statement from the president, he had a side agenda.
Fukuzawa desired to know how his colleagues would survive under these trying circumstances - mainly Dazai.
Monitoring the Ex-Mafioso's behaviours has been something Fukuzawa has tried to distance himself from because if the man was to be honest with himself, he knows that some of Dazai's behaviours were ugly and somewhat unethical. He'd rather appreciate what work was actually done rather than focus on some perhaps more unethical means of accomplishing that goal. His honest intentions were worth more focus. With this said though, he doesn't let any more extreme behaviours to be taken in the agency unless absolutely necessary, and if those actions are made, consequences are put in place.
"I appreciate this service, President"
Even with the deep rooted respect he had for Fukuzawa, Dazai was practically internally gritting his teeth.
He wasn't naive enough to not realise that his true intentions were to pick apart his brain.
Despite this revelation what Dazai didn't see because of his blindly distrusting nature, was that this wasn't a menacing act or some fun science experiment. Fukuzawa didn't desire to manipulate or gather information from Dazai, simply to observe in an attempt to understand him better.
The truth was, that he knows Dazai is drowning and Fukuzawa simply wanted to figure out how to keep his head above water until the young adult wanted to swim his soul to shore and live.
"So! What brings you here Kunikida!"
Energetically, the coworker spun around to lay eyes on his colleague lying stiffly on the ground.
"I was worried you were cursing and abusing my body you suicidal maniac!" Dazai knew that wasn't a jab but it sure felt like one.
After that snappy remark, Kunikida's tone sullened from the initial biting pain and concern to a sense of quiet remorse.
"Your body is a battlefield. I don't particularly want a similar story painted on my skin..."
The comment penetrated and impaled the atmosphere.
Even if Fukuzawa hadn't seen the full picture, and he didn't need to, he could feel the pressure being applied to the unspoken truth.
But, despite the harsh deliverance, he justly had a point.
Unfortunately, that didn't stop unrecognisable emotions to stir within Dazai's twisted soul. Yes he was different, but he didn't ask for this. Yet, that doesn't mean he waives all accountability though either.
"Dazai, as part of the health and safety policy for our employees, Kunikida has the right to request a physical."
Physical.
"I don't want you to worry Dazai, it's not until this evening. You have the entire afternoon to prepare for this, and you will be together until then. Let me know if there are any changes that need to be made."
Neither of them knew the full intention behind that last statement - Kunikida less.
A physical. A PHYSICAL
I am required to complete this physical.
Fortunately, Kunikida doesn't have to be present.
I have to convince him not to be there.
"With that said, Kunikida asked me to be on my way after that announcement, despite you both having a case this afternoon. I said I was happy to pass it onto someone else but Kunikida insisted he handle it and handle it with you"
Oh how Dazai was ready to end everything right there.
He wasn't ready yet.
He still had a few more minutes to prepare, to re-assess things!
Regrettably, life is a series of actions that require you to adapt quickly-
Or there are consequences .
"Of course President, we'll talk it over right now!" Dazai put on a big smile and kept his chirpy voice just to keep everything as controlled as possible. The detective watched as the head left and shut the door for courtesy's to fall.
"A case, Kunikida? Really?!"
Every fibre of the 23 year old was fighting not to get overwhelmed but he was currently failing.
"Dazai we can handle it, it's a small case and I needed to talk to you more about how to cope with this situation! I am suffering! In your body!"
It was a decision whether to pace, shoot something, torture or just constructively walk out. So, walking out is what he did - leaving his supposed partner on the floor mercilessly. He didn't want to think about being merciful right now and giving an idiot the benefit of the doubt.
Even if Dazai feels like Kunikida makes idiotic decisions, he has to respect the man somewhat for his dedication. Unfortunately, that's not smart, productive nor beneficial at times and circumstances like this. His ideals just get in the way.
__________________
After they both (Dazai) had cooled off and re-assessed the position to the best of their ability, it was time to crack on with the case.
It was simple missing persons case, some threats from a no good organisation and just required some information collecting and execution, but Dazai was in the cooldown from a severe meltdown. This wasn't going to be easy. Not that he knew that.
On top of that, they had switched bodies.
Both of their skill sets were not the same as they were accustomed to.
Flexibility, endurance, strength and reflexes.
All factors that have been changed and altered and for once, both were unsure how this was actually going to go.
The door swung open revealing Dazai in all Kunikida's glory.
"I have returned Kunikida!!!"
He was beaming but he sure didn't feel it.
"You ASSHOLE! You can't just-"
"Ey! Hush hush, I am back. Let's just get this over with"
Since the detective had left, Kunikda had managed to sit on Dazai's very sad looking couch and was now poorly attempting to get up and walk without the evidence of pain smeared on his face.
On the walk there, to aid Kunikida without it without making himself look weak, they linked arms casually; that would be easier to cover up than the outrageous accusation the demon prodigy had become injured- or even worse- susceptible.
Covering this mess up was imperative.
********
The first step of the case was to talk to the client, the one who requested this case be taken on in the first place.
Dazai had read the report and their file and had decided to go after the first witness, an apparent close friend of the victim that was missing.
The entire case was based on an individual who had been caught in the middle of a conflict between two organisations. The entire thing had been crafted on the simple basis of property or people. It turns out that the missing person had significance due to the leaders of the two organisations, by coincidence, happened to be their parents who had a nasty divorce 8 years ago. The victim was now 21 years old.
"Dazai I need you to actually listen this time, no flirting nonsense or messing about! For this conflict not to affect the public it needs to be handled with care."
Truth be told, the detective couldn't care less. His only objective is to clear this mess up as quickly as possible and try to remain focused.
"Mirai?" Kunikida began.
A petite girl, around 19, looked up from her seat to see two detectives sliding carefully into the booth opposite to her.
"Yes?"
"We're with the armed detective agency"
Dazai gave her a small smile but was not convinced that she wouldn't talk about their characters but hoped painfully that she would refrain, to his delight, she did.
"What can I do for you?" The girl sat confidently across from them. If Dazai wasn't so distracted in his own mind, he might've found it the slightest bit endearing and been able to look deeper to unravel more thoroughly the meaning for the action.
"We'd like to ask a few questions"
Kunikida, as per usual, asked most of the questions. He didn't miss though, his partner's uncharacteristically edgy behaviour.
Kunikida had to admit that if he wasn't in this situation, having to be alert of his surroundings constantly for potential threats more than usual, he probably wouldn't have noticed.
But he did.
He noticed Dazai's vacant gaze and lack of focus.
He noticed the random readjustments of Dazai's position when there was seemingly no need.
He noticed the skin picking, tugging and pulling at the end of his clothes. The seem thread fell apart with each precise thread being torn from its place.
He had also noticed the bruising from earlier.
This wasn't his usual grounded colleague.
It was almost as if he was fighting to stay attached to the conversation.
His brain was being pulled to those around him whether he wanted to listen or not.
"So Mirai, you mentioned the conflict in your opinion, worsened after the split along with organisation judgement and questioning of leadership, yes?"
"That's what I heard, yes. You can't fully rely on your friends' words, but Rin was honest. She always put others needs before herself"
Dazai had figured out what was going on within the first few questions of the meeting. Even with that swift conclusion, it was slipping for him.
Just by observation he could usually draw a pretty solid conclusion.
But Dazai hadn't properly observed her - or to be more accurate, hadn't organised the information yet.
Hair
Language
No! Behaviour.
Paterntal-
She just moved
The coffee machine had just turned on, then the glasses began to cling.
Outside a car just sped past, probably heading for- a child just screamed.
Just as soon as Dazai began one train of thought, another thing would begin causing his focus to be smashed then desperately shoved together but before it could even be considered to be glued back together it got ran over again and got crushed and broken into many other directions.
It wasn't until Kunikida stiffly arose to shake Miss Mirai's hand that Dazai was fully snapped back from his daze and half heartedly shook her hand also.
Yes. Shook .
Not kissed.
"I told you to take this case seriously. Instead you were staring off into existence. Honestly, you've not even got this pain now so what's going on? Did you figure it out?"
Dazai just smiled.
"Why of course Kunikida! You have so little faith in me!"
He wasn't convinced and rightfully so.
As they both continued to pursue the case through its stages, the more things caught Kunikida's attention.
The small movements if a car drove past, if a child screamed, the fidgeting with the edges of his clothes. Even the softer volume of Dazai's voice that usually would be loud, obnoxious and confident.
It wasn't that Dazai had lost those qualities completely. Absolutely not.
They were just softened, almost dulled and more gentle.
Not in behaviour, if anything, the detective was more unpredictable.
Kunikida wasn't sure what was going to come out of his mouth. If there was anything Kunikida had learned from his years with Dazai, it was that there were sides to Dazai he hadn't even witnessed yet, and if he was to be honest with himself, he didn't particularly want to see them.
The case was wrapped up quickly, even for them.
"So you really figured the entire thing out from the 3rd question?"
The detective nodded his head.
The case ended up to be a ploy, the 19 year old had actually kidnapped the girl herself as an attempt to suppress the conflict. Turned out she was in an outside organisation that needed both company's to get along so not only would the money flow remain fluent but the people and citizens of the country wouldn't be affected by a power hungry bloodbath.
Unfortunately, he didn't solve the case quick enough so the time for preparation was cut short to half an hour. Truly Dazai wanted to prepare for this dreaded meeting by himself instead of being babysat by Kunikida and monitored like a bomb or catalyst.
"Sometimes I truly don't understand how you are such an idiot all the time with a brain as gifted as yours."
****
" With a brain like yours Dazai… You're just meant for so much more. Yet you keep- disappointing me with these childish mistakes.
It is weak.
I can't have a subordinate like that ."
"Oh, please. If there was a single human who could carry these tasks you would. But the truth is you can't."
"You're right Osamu. I need a demon but mistakes create the stigma of humanity."
******
Dazai's fingers slipped once again near each other behind his back and found themselves picking scratching skin as they left the cafe to head towards the agency.
Not helping his case with a certain upcoming doctor.
******
"Ah, you've returned"
Kunikida leaves Dazai's side and walks ahead to Fukuzawa.
"Is she ready?"
"Waiting in her office"
"We'll see you in an hour Dazai"
A corridor has never felt so daunting.
"Dazai, come on in"