Chapter Text
“You promised me you wouldn’t lie.”
Dazai didn’t answer the voice. No, Dazai had barely registered that there even was a voice. He merely stared at the wall, his expression becoming one with it. Blank. Empty. Nothing.
There was suddenly a presence in front of him, blocking his view of the wall. How unpleasant.
“So tell me, please.” The voice was wobbling now. This person seemed so hurt. “Tell me that you don’t actually hate me.”
Everything felt muffled, so far away. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to do this. …Why was he doing this? Why was he ruining the only good thing in his life?
Dazai didn’t answer, instead he lifted his head to meet the eyes of the voice.
Oh, what beautiful sapphire eyes.
***
Dazai was never good with children. If you asked sixteen year old Dazai Osamu if he ever thought about even having such a home life in the future, he would tell you he would prefer to die. Or rather, he’d already be dead before the age of twenty.
Present tense though? He is a twenty-five year old parent guardian currently getting all five of his devil spawns ready for school at seven in the morning.
Well, they are getting ready on their own. Dazai just cooked breakfast and is getting the youngest— Sakura, ready.
Dazai doesn’t look up from where he is braiding Sakura’s hair, calling out to the boy whose tiptoeing behind him stiffly clutching his backpack. “Katsumi. How many times have I told you that you cannot take Chiyo to school?”
Katsumi freezes in his steps. “What do you mea-“
His (very-well-thought-out-) excuse was rudely interrupted by a meow, coming from backpack. There’s silence stretching for a minute until Katsumi deeply sighs, taking off his bag and unzipping it to a tabby jumping out.
Chiyo curls up against Dazai’s leg, and Katsumi huffs as he glares. “You were supposed to be quiet. We agreed on this.”
“Go tell the others breakfast is ready, okay?”
Katsumi sighs once again, but nods nonetheless and runs upstairs.
“Dazai, can I get a butterfly clip today?” Sakura asks, playing with her teddy bear on the table.
Dazai ties the ends of her two braids and finishes with a successful breath. His braiding skills had improved over the past few months since Sakura entered her braid phase, so he felt relieved it didn’t look like a bear hauled at her head anymore.
Sakura turns around to face him with a questioning gaze, waiting for her question to be answered. He smiles, reaching inside his pocket where he pulls out his fist that’s clenched shut.
“What color would you like today?”
Sakura stares at the hand, squinting. “You’re not gonna get this one, I promise!” She stares harder, glaring at the fist competitively.
“I want pink.” She says.
Dazai doesn’t react to her answer, instead, he simply releases his fist and watches as her eyes widen with that same joyous spark.
In the palm of Dazai’s hand lay two small, pink butterfly clips— just like how he had predicted she would want.
He clips them on each side of her head, before patting her head gently and standing from his seat while the other children come pattering down the steps.
“Dazai made pancakes!” Kosuke announces loudly, the screech of his chair along with the others following.
Shinji grins to himself, grabbing one of the syrup bottles in the middle of the table and pouring a good amount on his stack. “I love pancake mondays.”
Dazai absently watches the coffee machine pour black liquid into his mug, the drowsiness from the early morning still not wearing off just yet. Maybe he’ll converse with the children with a sentence or two, but only after he has his coffee.
Yu chews his pancakes loudly, taking a generous sip from his milk and gulping it down. “I think I have to present my project this week….” He mumbles, continuing to eat.
Yu stress eats. Which means with that presentation most likely happening by Friday, Dazai will probably have to watch him closely just in case he gets a bad stomach ache later.
“It’s getting colder, and I don’t have any gloves. Can we go shopping soon Dazai?” Sakura asks, grabbing Dazai’s attention while he puts creamer in his coffee.
He shrugs. “Yeah sure. We’ll go this weekend.”
“Can we check out that new arcade place too?” Katsumi joins in, poking his head up to meet Dazai’s eyes.
Dazai pretends to think about it, humming before grinning and taking a sip. If it burned his tongue, he did not grimace. “Nope! Because someone thought it’d be a great idea to fail their test on purpose~”
“Oh come on,” Katsumi groans. “You don’t even care about school like that! you’re just doing this because you had to deal with my teacher-“
He snorts with his lips pressed against the mug. “Of course I am, how you deal with that old man constantly nagging is beyond me.”
Katsumi simply settles with grumbles while Dazai leans back against the counter, watching as all five of the children finish their breakfast and talk among themselves.
Sometimes he’ll randomly look at them and see just how much they’ve grown up. It’s like a prickle in his heart, watching them slowly develop into preteens.
When Dazai was sixteen, his older brother passed away.
Though they were siblings, Dazai was going through a rebellious stage at the time and so their relationship wasn’t… the best, per say. He was a teenager— angry at the world, lonely, and uncaring of his surroundings. He had just never stopped to think about how that might’ve affected one of the few people who actually cared about him.
Oda was the opposite, and though Dazai would never outwardly voice it, he envied him.
“Taking care of orphans? How noble of you.”
His brother was no angel, and that was for sure, but he was probably the closest thing a human could get to becoming one.
Dazai checks the time on his phone, setting his mug in the sink. “Your buses should be coming soon, hurry up and finish.”
Dazai walks off to get himself ready upstairs, leaving the children finishing up in the kitchen. The boys are once again talking amongst themselves, while Sakura just stares at her half-eaten pancake. She contemplates this, debating whether or not to voice it as it has been clouding her brain for a while.
“Do you guys… ever think Dazai will get a girlfriend?”
The question makes the table fall silent, all of the boys stilling and staring at her as if she had grown a third head. Kosuke speaks first and shrugs. “Do you really think he has time for one? He takes care of us 24/7, while also working and doing stuff for the house… and cleaning… “ he pauses, thinking about how lazy Dazai can be. “well, kinda.”
“You make him sound like a mom,” Yu says.
Katsumi shrugs, throwing his plate in the sink. “Is he not kinda like a mom?”
Shinji hums, tapping his chin. “I feel like he’s more of the older brother type. A mother figure would be more… motherly.” He cringes. “Dazai is not motherly.”
”But he’s also not very older brotherly.” Yu points out.
“Dazai is very motherly!” Sakura defends, crossing her arms. Dazai knows how to cook, make her braids, and he has a great fashion sense! Very motherly, how could he not be? She huffs.
Kosuke snorts, before pausing. “Wait… so if Dazai is our mom, and he gets a girlfriend… Does that mean we’ll have two moms? A step-mom?”
“Isn’t it only step mom if we had a mom in the first place…..” Yu questionably mutters.
“Oh right. We don’t have moms.” Shinji says.
Katsumi barks out a laugh, “oh yeah!”
“You know, when I think about it, Dazai is a very flirty person. So why doesn’t he have a girlfriend?” Shinji asks, more to himself as he stands up to leave his dishes in the sink.
Shrugging, Katsumi puts his water away in his backpack. “Maybe he’s too flirty to the point it scares women away?”
“But women love him! All of my teachers run to the front doors when he comes to pick me up!” Shinji says.
“Doesn’t mean he can get a date though,” Katsumi replies. “Well, actually he has but he always comes up with excuses before going.”
Yu nods, “and he’s never brought anyone home!”
While their conversation of Dazai’s love life continues, they remain blissfully ignorant to their guardian sitting on the stairs with a very amused expression.
Dazai silently checks his watch, and glances back up to the scene before him. “You all do know you spent the last fifteen minutes discussing my love life right?”
The children freeze at his voice, some of them barely putting on their shoes or finishing packing up.
“We can explain!” They all say in union.
Dazai waves a hand in the air, standing up and grabbing his keys from the shelf. “Yeah yeah, everyone in the car.”
“This is Sakura’s fault!” Kosuke yells as he opens the door and walks to the car.
Sakura halts, screeching. “What?!?!?!“
Dazai locks the door behind him, watching an ant line of kids all walk from their home to Dazai’s pride and joy— his sexy, black 2021 Chevrolet Tahoe. Might’ve cost him his entire life savings, but how else were you supposed to show off such a beauty and transport five demons to a thing we call ‘school’ everyday?
“I hate when Dazai drives. I fear for my life.” Katsumi says solemnly, following Kosuke. Behind Kosuke follows Yu, Shinji and Sakura all with solemn expressions and Dazai at the end with a sinister grin.
“I call dibs on front seat!” Yu runs past them, with Katsumi suddenly gasping and running for it as well.
Dazai gets in the driver's seat, fastening his seatbelt before checking behind him and scanning everyone to make sure they’re all buckled in. No one shall die before 12PM, is his motto after all. (He would not want to deal with such things before noon.
This is a joke, by the way.)
“Alright kids, first stop is Dunkin’!” Dazai announces, turning on the radio and backing out of his parking spot.
“Did you not just have coffee…” Yu mumbles from beside him, not looking up from his phone that he held with both hands. Turns out he won shotgun.
“What’s wrong with double caffeine? More energy for the day for me.” Dazai shrugs, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as he waits for the light to turn green.
“I heard it’s like crack,” Yu replies, his thumbs massacring the screen while playing some shooting game. Probably COD, or PUBG. Dazai didn’t keep track anymore.
“We’re gonna be late,” Katsumi comments from the back.
“I want a donut!” Shinji chirps, totally ignoring Katsumi’s sudden care for attendance.
Dazai cringes. “It’s so early for a donut……”
“What’s wrong with donuts?!?!”
At another red light, he glances over his shoulder to Shinji. “I’ll buy it- but you can eat it for lunch, okay?”
Shinji pouts for a moment, before contemplating it and nodding. “Okay.” Dazai nods with a smile, turning back as soon as the light turns green once again.
After successfully buying his iced coffee and the children donuts (because all of a sudden all of them wanted a donut for lunch, like always), Dazai just had to finish dropping them off at their separate schools. Kosuke, the oldest, had to be dropped off first due to his school hours being a bit earlier than the younger ones. Plus, Dazai no longer had to drop him off at the entrance doors. You know, teenagers and all.
Yu and Katsumi’s middle school is not much further from Kosuke’s high school, so it’s a quick trip. They also don’t really need him to walk them, but occasionally they ask him to just have a conversation before their day.
Though they also felt a warm feeling blooming in their chests whenever they turned around once more, and they could see Dazai in the distance waving them off with a smile and a hand in the pocket of his slacks. But of course, they’d never say that out loud.
Shinji and Sakura were the opposite, the two devils clinging onto Dazai at the front doors with no mercy whatsoever.
Dazai chuckles as he wraps both of his arms around a child on each side. He pats their backs almost awkwardly, but comforting nonetheless. “Okay, okay. Hugs are done, time to go, yeah?”
The kids detach from him, smiles on their faces as they look up at him. He pats their heads gently with a returning smile, albeit not as innocent and naive as theirs— but with love all the same. “Have a good day, you two.”
“You too, Dazai!” They both say, turning around and walking inside of the bustling atmosphere of small children with bright colored backpacks.
“Your children are very lovely. You seem like a wonderful father.” someone comments from beside him. Dazai glances to the voice, meeting an older man with grey hair that is nicely swept back with a monocle over his eye. He’s wearing a white buttoned up with a red and yellow striped tie that matched the school's colors. His black suit was hidden over the matching colored large coat, along with a long red scarf.
“Oh, I’m not their father.” Dazai covers up whatever discomfort he feels with a chuckle. “I’d say guardian is a better word for it.”
“Ah, my apologies. You appear close, from the looks of it.”
Dazai shrugs with a relaxed smile. “No worries, happens a lot more than you think. How are you, Hirotsu-san?” He turns his body back to the front doors, both of them facing the same direction and watching the children all walk to class or meet teachers and friends along the inside.
The man’s eyebrows raise curiously, though not all that surprised. He smiled faintly, looking a bit strained in his features that have naturally adjusted to his constant serious expressions.
“I’m doing rather fine, it’s a very nice morning. And you?”
Dazai nods, his eyes occasionally darting to the side where Hirotsu stood. “Yes, a very nice one. And I’m doing just fine, thank you for asking.“
“I’m assuming you’re the infamous Dazai I constantly hear about right?” He says expectantly, to which Dazai makes an ‘oh’ sound. “Infamous?” He asks, his chin tilting slightly in the air.
Hirotsu lets out a huff from his nose, recalling all the scenes he’s witnessed of his coworkers panicking each time this Dazai would come to drop off or pick up his kids. “You’re the big word among the female teacher staff.”
Dazai tries to think of a way to reply to that without being improper in front of the kids principal but silently fails. Opting to check his watch and get out of this conversation before he has to make any more small talk, he politely smiles. “Well it was nice to meet you, but unfortunately I should be getting to work now.” He bids goodbye, turning around and beginning to head off to his car.
Hirotsu returns the gesture, giving him a simple head nod as the bell rings in the background; signaling the start of their beautiful Monday.
***
Dazai’s eyes dart between the two cereal boxes in his hands, eyebrows drawn together as they his mind tries to figure out the fucking difference between these so Kosuke doesn’t complain about how one “doesn’t taste the same!!!” During the middle of the night again.
Oh yes, he’s totally at work right now by the way. Totally not in the grocery store buying groceries because he barely noticed the food was almost gone in the pantry until this morning. (And he totally did not get reminded on his way to work, by the reminder app on his phone because he forgets everything).
His phone vibrates in his pocket, and he puts one cereal box on top of the other to fish the phone out to press answer.
Tucking the phone between his ear and shoulder, he greets his caller. “Say, Yosano, what’s the difference between the Cap’N Crunch cereal boxes besides the fact one of them is red and the other is yellow?”
“For the last time, one of them has the berries and the other one doesn’t you dumb shit.”
Yosano is a Cap’N Crunch enthusiast, and Dazai has been asking this question for about two years now. She is barely holding onto that thin patience she has left.
“Ohhhhhhhhh. Got it.” He throws the yellow box in the cart, leaving the red one on the shelf and removing the phone from in between his shoulders. He presses it to his ear, a smile on his lips. “To what do I owe the pleasure of my beautiful, amazing, best friend calling me at 11:30 in the morning?”
“This beautiful amazing best friend is going to beat your sorry ass if you don’t come by to pick up your prescriptions.”
“Don't be like that! I have children! A home! Groceries to buy!”
“It’s been 3 weeks. You sound like stay-at-home mom.”
“Am I not? I can’t remember the last time I went out for a night…”
“That’s a damn lie. We went out like two months ago. But it is very long, I agree.”
Dazai can already imagine her examining her nails subconsciously. She probably has her feet propped up in her office, staring at the ceiling. Monday mornings are usually so slow, she is bored.
Dazai hums, glancing at the top shelf for his favorite can of crab. Damn, freshly wiped out. “I’m busy,”
“Oh my god, when was the last time you got laid?!” She blurts out randomly.
“Relax, just cus’ I don’t party every day like I used to does not mean my dick stopped working.” Dazai smirks to himself remembering the most recent woman he was with. She was an angel in appearance, bedroom wise? Whew.
“You’re in a public space right now.”
He very clearly caught that when the old lady’s eyes went wide next to him in the soup section. “I’m aware.”
“Did you hear about the party Tachihara is throwing this weekend?”
“Uh, no? Who’s that again?”
“Tachihara??? You know, from college, ginger, piercings? He always wore that bandaid on his nose and was a frat boy.”
“With that description I can name at least 25 people from college, Yosano.” Dazai deadpans.
“He was really close with Chuuya, remember?”
Dazai halts his cart, his face twisting. “Why are we bringing him up?”
“Calm down, it’s not like I mentioned your ex-boyfriend. Or love of your life you shamelessly let go. Or the piece of hot ass. Or sexiest man that I have ever laid my eyes on and I’m a lesbian-“
“I get it, Yosano.”
“…………..well! Do you remember Tachihara now?”
Dazai sighs, returning to driving his cart into the frozen section. “I always did. He was an asshole, did not like him.”
He can visibly imagine the look on her face by now. She probably just shrugged. “Yeah, but, it’s gonna be a good party.” She sighs, and the creak of her chair can be heard through the line as she leaned back on it. “A lot of people we know are gonna be there, it’ll be fun. Leave the kids with your little gay friends on Friday and pick them up on Sunday night, that way you have a day to party and a restful weekend for the hangover.”
Dazai rolls his eyes, “Atsushi and Akutagawa might be busy,”
“They’re in college and children-less. Give them a little spice with babysitting!”
“You would’ve cussed someone out if they even tried to make you babysit five kids on a weekend during college.”
“Yeah, but I also did coke for half of a semester so.”
“Cannot believe you’re a doctor sometimes…” Dazai pauses, but lets out a convinced breath. “Fine, I’ll ask them.”
Yosano loudly whoops from the other line, and Dazai huffs a laugh. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll talk to you later.”
“I’ll tell them you’re coming~”
“I’ll pick up my meds today, by the way.” He adds, his finger hovering over the red button.
“Got it, take care.”
“You too.”
***
After a grocery shopping success, Dazai was now on his way to work. Of course, starbucks in his cup holder and 45 minutes late. Kunikida might bite his dick when he walks in or violently glare daggers from his cubicle station, but as Dazai says– YOLO!
His job, (despite what others on the outside may think) is actually very high paying and good for the community. One of the many ways that Dazai can still afford to be alive with five kids under his roof and a cat. Also because he might be a genius of a detective but you obviously didn't hear it from him.
The office building of the Agency was located just downtown near the city’s port. It used to be an old reddish-brown brick building a few years ago, with a quaint cafe downstairs and the office on the fourth floor. After being renovated, it looked a lot more modern– still sitting at the top of a slope, the building’s bricks were replaced with steel-inforced concrete and many more bulletproof windows. The cafe was also renovated, looking still as small but elegant looking enough to draw in customers often.
Dazai has been coming here since he was seventeen years old, though it was actually mostly just sitting next to Fukuzawa and occasionally speaking with him after Oda passed away. Oda believed that if he put “his brilliant mind” to work, he could one day truly help people with it. Solve cases, crack complicated cases, save people and families. And while it was mostly paperwork half of the time, it was at least something to help with.
The elevator made a ding sound, and Dazai walked towards the automatic clear doors that slid open at his presence. Atsushi is the first one to greet him, stopping in the middle of the floor to smile while holding a large stack of papers and folders in his arms. They looked quite heavy. “Oh, Dazai-san, you’re here. Good morning!”
Dazai smiles, “Good morning to you too, I like your cat sweater.” he points to the blue collared and oversized sweater Atsushi wore with white cats imprinted all over. Along with it, he wore khakis and white sneakers. Atsushi was still in college, barely in his first year and studying Criminology. He was Fukuzawa’s only grandson along with another granddaughter of his, Kyouka. She was still a freshman in high school so she didn’t stop by as much until the afternoons sometimes.
“DAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZAAAAIIIIIIIII!!”
The world freezes and Dazai feels the hairs on his neck stand. Atsushi’s gleaming expression from before is quickly replaced with a solemn one, nodding to Dazai with a poker face wishing him luck. He walks away stiffly in silence, making room for the running tornado with glasses and a long ponytail bulldozing towards him.
“Kunikida! My best friend! How are y-”
“DON’T YOU BEST FRIEND ME! YOU ARE 45 MIN- 46 MINUTES LATE AS OF NOW!”
“I apologize, one of my children were sick this morning and I had to deal with getting him to the clinic.” Dazai says in a depressing monotone voice, and Kunikida rapidly deflates. “Oh. Who? Did they ever find out what was wrong?” He asks, pulling out his small notebook in case he had to get any possible important takes from this. His glasses gleam as Dazai nods.
“A deadly stomach virus. Untreatable. My poor Kosuke will soon wither away from a stomach bug named- oh, write this down-” Dazai nods toward his book, and Kunikida’s grip on his pencil tightens while he listens to every word. “It’s name… is ‘your momvirus’.”
Kunikida’s pencil breaks in half, and the silence that stretches them is long before Dazai blankly looks over his shoulder and sees Ranpo walking by. “Oh, Ranpo!” He waves with a grin.
“.............DAZAI ILL KILL YOU YOUFUCKINGASTEOFBANDAGESGOODFORNOTHINGANNOYINGLYCAFFINEADDICTFATHERBASTARDASSHOLEFUCKINGGET BACK HERE.”
After Dazai died in the wrath of Kunikida and was revived back to life, he sat in his office and currently played with a pen in his hands. He finished all of his paperwork a few hours ago after getting scolded by Kunikida, so now he was waiting for Atsushi or one of the secretaries to come drop off some more soon.
He turned in his chair, taking a look outside of his window lazily as a bunch of pedestrians walked around. All of them had places to go, to be, to enjoy or to detest. Many different lives all bound together by stopping street lights and crosswalks that serve as a path to their destinations.
Life is such a funny and interesting concept to Dazai. Depressing at most times for him, yes, but people are fascinating. Maybe life started to brighten up his dimly lit home when he finally got approved for the children’s custody a few years back. Slowly, his home became acquainted with toys, games, Disney movies, plastic dinosaurs and cars, consoles, the smell of Mac N Cheese, lunchables, Barbie dolls and more than one plain toothbrush in his sink.
If Oda saw him now he would probably laugh his ass off and mock Dazai for the sworn legacy he made at sixteen of how he would never have kids. (Or, ‘disgusting-booger-eating-fetuses!’)
He still has to pick up his new antidepressants from Yosano, then he needs to go buy the supplies for Yu’s project, and after that he probably has to clean the house before the kids get home…. So much work. All he wants to do is sleep. Maybe for one day he’d like to go back to his old ways; drink, hate life, sleep, and stay in bed all day rotting his sadness away. Well, he probably would’ve killed himself by now if he had kept that up. But who knows? We are just programmed to be that way. We wallow in our own heartache and grief for so long we regain comfort from it. All of our self destructive tendencies, from hurting others to hurting yourself all become so familiar we do not wish to leave that space of bleakness. There are no worries, no responsibilities, no escapes.
Unfortunately when you’re thrown out of that space, you’re forced to live real life. The one where that grief will eat you up and spit you back out, chaining you to the cold ground and not letting you return to your hole of isolation. Your hole of comfort and safety, away from others. Where you hide and wither away, without a care about who or what you’re hurting. Because now, you do have responsibilities. Now you are someone prominent in other people's lives, in the lives of little ones who, without that adult, cannot live by themselves. They are not meant to develop as humans without support.
Live for yourself! Love yourself! Self love!
What a dreadful way of living.
Dazai has only made it this far because he was able to acknowledge that he is capable of loving other people. Not himself— Never himself. He is not worthy of loving himself, and he is not worthy of other people loving him.
The children need him for support, as every child needs a parent. They need financial stability, food, care and love. Maybe Dazai cannot give such love and care as you see in your ordinary families, but if he can help them, maybe that’ll be enough.
He doesn’t need them to love him. He came to this conclusion long ago— He is not Oda. He will never be Oda, nor will he ever be able to change himself to be like him. And that’s fine, because all Dazai wishes is for these children to grow up okay .
Oda was not able to finish what he started and Dazai is a simple downgrade of a replacement who came by to help.
If Oda’s dying wish was for Dazai to try to leave that darkness he so desperately felt inclined to stay in, then Dazai would do so much more than just leave. He would exceed Oda’s expectations, only because he was the only one who had guided Dazai through their treacherous home life. The one who still had tried to save him— even when the two people who were supposed to care about him, who were supposed to make him feel safe, loved and cared for, didn’t. When they called him attention seeking, manipulative, a ‘ horrible child .’
Oda was the one who proved them wrong. Not directly to his parents, no, Oda proved them wrong by simply picking Dazai up and holding him. By taking him into his small apartment above a curry shop, where these unknown orphans lived in a room somewhere.
“Don’t listen to them. I’ve got you.”
And while he may be attached to these children, they don’t see him as Oda. The one who was first there for them, before Dazai. But that’s okay.
Because Dazai will do his best to bathe these children in the light that Oda showed him. He will continue to do so, and if Oda’s faith in him is the only thing that keeps him going sometimes… It is more than enough.
***
An hour or two of aimlessly looking through files, playing Minecraft in a hidden tab in case Kunikida walks in, and answering emails in a passive aggressive manner, Dazai receives a phone call from Shinji and Sakura’s school.
“Dazai Osamu speaking,” he answers, ignoring the incoming worry of a school phone call in the back of his mind.
“Excuse me?” He blinks, taken aback. Restraining from displaying any sort of emotion to the secretary on the other line, he stands up from his chair and takes the coat that had been hanging on the back of it. “I’ll be there soon, thank you.”
After calling out and explaining quickly to Kunikida, Dazai was now walking in the large corridors of the kids' school. His black oxfords lightly clacked against the hard floor, turning corners and passing classrooms to find the designated conference room. Right outside of the doors sat two little kids, a boy and a girl, holding hands.
Dazai hurries them, the children not even noticing as he kneels on one knee and glances up at their expressions. Shinji’s lip is busted, bruised and bleeding. He has a few scratches and the blooming bruise on his eye is prominent. Sakura’s pretty pink dress she had picked that morning, the one she was so excited to wear, had been ripped at the seams and it was muddy.
His stomach dropped, an unfamiliar feeling settling in for the very first time ever.
“I’m sorry. It was my fault.” Shinji speaks first, his voice small.
Sakura shakes her head quickly, letting go of Shinji’s hand and giving Dazai a pleading look. “It wasn’t his fault! he- he pushed me, and- and, and, then… he-“
Dazai brings both of his hands and places them gently on top of their heads. It’s the only gesture he could think of to bring any sort of comfort. “It’s okay. The fault falls on neither of you. I’m going to talk to the teachers now, I’ll be right back.”
Sakura stares at him with her shiny and swollen eyes from crying. She watches him stand up and turn around to knock on the conference room door. She bites her lip, trying not to cry even more, even if silent tears spill out.
“Don’t cry,” Shinji says, his eyes trained on the floor like they have been for the past hour. ”Dazai is here.”
Dazai knocks only twice before opening the door, his displeasure quite visible on his face. The two secretaries exchange worried glances. They have been the ones to see Dazai for four years and not once has the man ever seemed to be phased by anything. Sometimes he’d look exhausted, drained even, but he had never looked so utterly pissed.
“Um,” one of the secretaries, Higuchi, spoke first, pointing to the door to the left. “they’re in that room.”
Dazai nods to her, not wasting time as he knocks twice again; and not waiting for any sort of reply before entering.
And at the moment, Dazai’s thought process comes to an abruptly, loud, screeching stop. His facial expression does not flicker, and while his eyes would rather be scanning the man who is currently sitting at one end of the table, his ever-so recognizable face concentrated in the paper in his hands, Dazai’s eyes force themselves to land on the man and his child beside him.
The teacher glances at the door, standing immediately to greet. “Oh, welcome, you must be the father of—“ he stops, and his jaw goes slightly slack at the sight of the father.
“…..What?” Chuuya barely manages to mumble, a knot in his throat that was clearly there.
Dazai feels as if a giant wave just washed over his body. Completely washing away any hint of anger he felt before, now gone and replaced with confusion. His eye twitches as the man at the table scoffs at his entrance.
He turns to face the teacher, who is still bewildered even if he doesn’t look like it. Dazai knows. They both know.
Time with another person is an irreversible thing that cannot take away your familiarity with their facial expressions and habits.
Dazai wishes they had run into each other anywhere else. Part of him wishes they hadn’t ran into each other at all.
But Dazai doesn’t usually have the universe by his side, especially not today. He braces himself mentally, and does what he does best.
Pretend everything is okay. The teacher at this conference is not his ex-boyfriend, he does not know him, and he will only acknowledge him as an old friend.
“Good evening, Chuuya!” He flashes a fake charming smile, more for the sake of himself and the other man in the room. Chuuya could see through the bullshit from miles away, he would understand. “Very nice to see you again, but I would like to take care of this first before catching up. Hm?”
Much to his surprise at the composure, Chuuya smiles back, bitterly. He nods, almost like a switch and gestures to the chair. “Of course. Please, take a seat.” If his tone was the least bit strained at the please, only Dazai caught it in between them.
Just pretend this is another parent. Chuuya chants to himself continuously, intertwining his fingers as he pulls out the same folders from before. “Tanaka-san, as we have already addressed, your son needs to apologize to both Shinji and Sakura.”
Tanaka is a big man. From his extremely sharp jaw to the way he still towers over the table all while sitting, you can tell he practically lives in the gym. Dazai silently studies the man, watching every twitch or expression— every movement of his thumbs, or the way he glances at the clock for a split second then returns his glare back to Chuuya.
The man scowls. “Listen, I don’t have time for this. My son didn’t do shit, and I don’t believe that he or his friends did anything to those other kids.”
“Please refrain from using explicit language, especially in front of a young audience Tanaka-san.” Chuuya says, his voice icy yet so completely relaxed. Dazai almost wanted to laugh, because Chuuya of all people was telling another grown man not to say ‘shit’.
“I left work early because you all called me and said it was an emergency!” His fist slams the table, and his son flinches from beside him. Dazai and Chuuya do not budge as he continues to raise his voice. “This is bullshit! He already said he didn’t do anything to those little fuckers. That puny kid of yours was provoking him!”
Dazai is not one to lose his composure, and god forbid he loses it in front of a man with an unhygienic, homeless looking stubble who probably doesn’t go a day without doing 300 fucking push-ups for the sake of his toxic masculinity.
Dazai opens his mouth to speak, but instead is replaced by Chuuya’s voice first. “How old are you, Shinzo?”
Chuuya’s attention is all on Tanaka’s child, completely ignoring the red-faced man. The boy grows completely stiff under Chuuya’s piercing gaze, a drop of sweat beginning to form at his temples.
“…twelve.”
Twelve. Do you know what Dazai was doing at twelve? Probably playing some fucking game and being sad. Why is this child bullying seven year olds?
Chuuya turns back to Tanaka. He closes the folder shut, moving the clearly unimportant papers as of now. He folds his hands, eyes never breaking contact with Tanaka’s, even if he has to look up. “Are you aware that your son has been bullying younger children with his two other friends, Yamato and Daisuke?”
“Oh please,” he chortles, finding the situation anything but serious. “It isn’t bullying, kids these days are a bunch a fuckin’ softies -“
“Sakura and Shinji are seven and eight years old.” Chuuya interjects, glaring at Tanaka.
“Did you know that bullying often stems from a problem at home? 90% of the children who become bullies and target other children abusively whether that be physically or psychologically are often the ones being neglected at home.”
Tanaka opened his mouth to speak, and yet again Chuuya interrupts another person. As always. Dazai doesn’t know if he wants to laugh or be amused.
“Children who experience such things like these may target others to make them feel empowered, unlike how they may feel around their parents at home. Judging on how you’re reacting so harshly in this meeting while there has been no threat made, by neither me nor the person next to me, I think we can all agree you’re the root of the problem.” Chuuya lets out a small breath, his eyes darting to the child once more. They’re disapproving, but somewhere inside you can see how Chuuya can understand the side of this child’s story.
Dazai continues to watch off to the side as Chuuya quite literally beats this guys ass but… with words? His hands aren’t even twitching. His eyes look murderous to a different level; but besides that, he’s completely calm.
“But you’re not completely free from fault either, Shinzo. You’re old enough to know better.”
Ah, there it is.
After a few seconds, the man seemingly returns to earth with veins threatening to pop out of his neck. “You- you’re saying that I’m the fuckin’ problem?!”
“Language please, Tanaka-san.”
“It’s his!” Tanaka points accusingly to Dazai, who has been quiet this whole time. “- fuckin’ kids. NOT mine!”
Oh, now it was his turn to speak.
“I would like to have a word with you as to how you should address other people, and especially their children.” Dazai smiles cuttingly. “You seem like you could use some parenting advice.”
Tanaka clenches his fists, biting his tongue from replying any further. “…We’re leaving.”
He begins standing up, already topping over the two sitting down. Shinzo remains in his seat, having a silent staring contest with Chuuya. His face remains expressionless and calm, like a windless night.
Tanaka glares at the boy. “What are you doing? Get up.”
Chuuya raises a brow, and tears begin to swell up in big brown eyes. The boy’s lip quivers, and he lets his head hang in shame after punching the wooden table defeatedly. “Fine. I- I.. am sorry…”
Chuuya’s stare remains, even if the younger's eyes are nowhere to be found. When he speaks, his tone is not harsh, but firm in a manner where the child is not being yelled at. The goal is to make them realize what they’re doing is wrong, and that it’s not correct to treat people this way. Children are meant to be guided, and clearly, this one is going in the wrong direction.
“I’m not the one you should be apologizing to. And if you are to apologize, make sure you acknowledge what you did was wrong, not a simple ‘I’m sorry’.”
With a sigh, Chuuya stands up as well— opening the folder and taking out two sheets of paper. “Please write a full statement as to what you and your friends did to Sakura and Shinji, and turn it into the office before you leave.”
He slides another paper to Tanaka. “As for the harassment your child has indulged in, you are the parent guardian responsible for the fine. We hope that you engage in a conversation with him about the inappropriateness and the consequences of bullying.” A third paper is slid towards Dazai. “By law both of you are required to sign this paper concluding that we have had this meeting, so whenever you have time after you’re finished one of you turns it into the office.”
Everyone nods, all reaching for one of the three pens on the table. Tanaka mutters heated curses and his child quietly cries as he writes the statement. Once they’re all done, Chuuya asks both guardians to leave so he can have a word with his son. Now, they’re both glaring at each other in the small hallway that is not much farther from the front desk where Higuchi and Agatha sat.
Dazai’s posture doesn’t falter, as always. The aura he emits is far from friendly, and it can be felt. Placing his hands in his pockets, he turns to look at the man who can barely contain himself. “I believe you also owe me an apology.”
He scoffs. And Dazai decides he wants to rip his teeth out. “Apologize? Are we children now?”
Dazai shrugs, “You act like one.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
Dazai snorts, no humor stemming from it at all. “You’re the one who has talked quite a lot today. Clearly there is an issue with your kid, and that’s your fault.”
Now, he steps up. They’re close in height, physique? Not so much. Dazai looks like he could be tipped over by a flick of a finger compared to the huge meat muscles in front of him.
He grit his teeth, too close to Dazai’s personal space. “Maybe if your child wasn’t as scrawny as you, Shinzo wouldn’t have picked on his sorry ass.”
Something in Dazai snaps, and all he can think about is wanting to make this man bite the curb and kick the back of his head repeatedly to shatter that nonstop fucking talking coming from his jaw.
Deep breaths. Remember your surroundings. The kids are just outside the door a few feet away. Breathe.
“Excuse me, but I would rather not have to deal with two grown adults fighting at an Elementary school.” A voice comments from the door.
This, ladies and gentlemen, is that scene in that movie where the world of our protagonist comes tumbling down. Shattering, cracking and just downright beating his ass at the holy sight of Nakahara Chuuya in front of him. His arms are crossed, exposing his toned arms that hold a folder in them.
While Dazai’s first ever-loving thought was holy fucking shit he’s hot, he was too distracted by the eyes.
His beautiful, deep blue sapphire eyes.
In his all black buttoned up dress shirt with matching slacks, choker and silver watch on wrist, Dazai couldn’t help but stare. He mentally notes that he doesn’t wear his hat anymore, or he isn’t wearing it now; but wow.
Somehow having Chuuya in this setting feels like a complete fever dream to Dazai.
The last time they stood in the same room, the only things that were memorable was the sound of screaming matches and desperate hugs. Spilled coffee. The smell of bourbon vanilla scented candles. Movie nights. Make-up sex. Early morning coffee. Blank canvases and overflowing paint.
Now, five years later, nothing seems like he could apply it to the man he sees. Almost like trying to brand a product, but knowing the product does not belong to this company.
Chuuya stares expectantly at the two, or rather Dazai, so he sighs and turns to the man. He smiles— so painfully strained, but it works. He pats the man on the shoulder twice. “As they say, karma exists. You have a good day now, Tanaka-san. I’ll make sure to have one of the secretaries send you a link on manners and polite table etiquette when I get the chance. See you!”
The man just stands shocked, not moving from his position meanwhile Dazai has already said his goodbyes to the secretaries. Trying his best to stray away from the two, he leaves Chuuya and Tanaka to an inaudible conversation.
It results in the man going back inside the room to get his son, who was still writing his statement after having a talk with Chuuya.
Dazai counts to 10 in his head before he turns the doorknob and steps outside into the hallway. Shinji and Sakura are both playing some sort of hand game, candies in their laps and their book bags on the floor. The staff must’ve brought their belongings a while ago. How long had that meeting been?
When they finally notice him walking towards them, they smile brightly. So, so brightly. Their faces lit up, running up towards him. Bruised face, cuts, torn dress and all.
He kneels down once more, his knee touching the cold floor and hugging them both. Such small, frail bodies. His hands hold the back of their heads gently, feeling the warmth radiating from the two so calmly. This feeling of wanting to protect something… something so dearly to him, something so precious— it’s suffocating. He wants to cherish these small beings like no other, and if any harm comes to them it’s like a ticking time bomb in his head. Every inch of his body twitches with anxiety at the thought of it, at the thought of seeing the be in pain. Is this what it’s like for parents? To love their offspring so much it physically causes them pain ? Well, at least some parents. He doubts his ever felt any type of emotional connection with him.
“How did it go?” Shinji asks.
“It went well. You won’t have to worry about them anymore.” Dazai answers, doing his best to try to keep this lighthearted. When the adult loses their composure, so does the child.
“I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have punched them.” Shinji says, and to this, Dazai pulls back to get a good look at them both. He pauses, raising an eyebrow. “You punched one of them???”
Sakura nods approvingly quickly, joining the conversation. “Shinji beat the two boys up! It was the bigger one that won in the end though… It’s okay though! Because he protected me!”
“I didn’t… they ruined your favorite dress…” Shinji replies with a low voice, eyes falling on the sad looking dress.
Hands suddenly are pinching their cheeks roughly, making them whine loudly and turn to a grinning Dazai. “You two are so cute, sometimes I just wanna eat you~”
Shinji deflates. “Please don’t eat us, I like my life.”
Sakura nods, cheek still being pinched. “And I still have to finish my Doraemon toy collection!”
Dazai lets out a laugh, releasing his grip on their cheeks and standing up to get their belongings. After packing up and announcing they’d stop by to pick up a pizza on their way home, they made their way down the hall to the front doors. They were only a few feet ahead of Dazai, Both wearing matching book bags of their favorite Studio Ghibli movie My Neighbor Totoro and faintly talking to each other.
As Dazai had said before, fate has never usually been on his side. Despite the man he had just encountered only a few minutes ago leaving an extremely unsettling feeling in his chest, Dazai was leaving. He was going to leave and forget whatever had just happened, after replaying the scenario over a million times in his head.
He releases a breath from his tight chest, ready to follow the children in front of him when the voice behind him speaks. It sends both a chill and a thrill down his spine.
“So, you have kids now?”
Almost as if lightning struck from the sky, Dazai was struck and frozen in place. That incredibly smooth but raspy voice. One that chimes a thousand melodies in his ears. One he had no idea how much he missed, it’s almost overwhelming just how much effort he put into blocking out the memory of it. Yet, somehow it crawled its way back in, like a cockroach you can’t kill.
Somehow, some way, he finds the will to face him.
Dazai turns around, a sarcastic smile on his face. “And you’re a teacher?”
Chuuya cocks his head with a smirk. God.
“Yeah, I am.”
Amused, Dazai returns the smirk. They don’t budge, both of them competitively not breaking eye contact. “My, definitely not what I expected from you, Chuuya.”
Chuuya shrugs, gesturing to the kids not that far away from them. “I could say the same for you.”
Dazai throws a vague look over his shoulder, turning back to Chuuya. “Well, life has a fun way of intervening with your original plans.”
Chuuya only hums, and for one split second, Dazai catches the millisecond one over that Chuuya does on him.
“Checking me out already?“
Chuuya barely rolls his eyes. “Don’t start.”
Dazai raises his arms in the air lazily as a sign of defeat. “Okay, okay.” His arms return to his side, and he instinctively inches closer. “So, you dropped the art?”
Chuuya shrugs. “Wasn’t for me.”
That short of a response is a form of ending conversation, this Dazai knows. It’s the type of reply you give when you don’t want to get into detail about your life with a stranger ; or a distant family member who pry too much on your relationship status. Because no, Chuuya is not dumb enough to jump into an automatic conversation with his ex-boyfriend who dumped him five years ago.
This soundless atmosphere of a school’s hallway, the orange and yellow hues that fall blissfully through the floor to ceiling windows, and the person in front of him seems like nothing but a distant memory. It feels like a dream. Like it’s not happening.
“…you look well.” Chuuya says, breaking the sudden silence, his voice so velvet it almost feels intimate, even relieved.
Dazai is conflicted as to if even wants to have a conversation with him. He doesn’t know if he wants to answer this with a normal reply or just end the conversation here. He's interrupted by two small voices calling out to him from down the hall, luckily. (Or, unluckily?)
“Dazai! Are you coming?!”
“Shhh! He’s talking to Nakahara-sensei!”
“Who is that?!”
“That’s my teacher!”
Dazai’s eyebrows shoot up slightly, an amused smile showing. “You’re Sakura’s teacher?”
At that moment, something switches off in Chuuya’s mind, and his expression gives it away quick enough for Dazai to catch it. Chuuya, on the other hand, only smiles, waving to Sakura who also waves back with a grin. “Yes, I am.”
“Ch-“
“I think you should get going now, Dazai.” He cuts him off, not letting him finish. He isn’t even looking at the other, his expression completely unreadable.
Oh.
Dazai never imagined hearing his name could ever make him feel so uneasy. When was the last time Chuuya called him Dazai and not Osamu? When did it stop? Why did it stop?
Something finally registered in Dazai’s mind at that moment. And then suddenly, standing there in front of Chuuya made him understand why everything was so off-putting.
The place they were standing in, the person in front of him, that expression… the way this person said his name— it was all different. Foreign. Unfamiliar.
The reason why Chuuya’s expression made him so uncomfortable was because Dazai was never on the receiving end of that expression.
It was only reserved for people Chuuya defended himself from. People who were a threat to him, those who were unfamiliar.
But now, he was.
Dazai could not change that.
All he can do is bear with it. After all, they won’t be seeing each other anymore than they already were throughout however many years Chuuya had worked here. “You’re right. Thank you for today, it means a lot.”
Chuuya shakes his head, but instead of giving a smile his frown only remains. “It’s no problem. Make sure to check up on them afterwards and try to make them give a statement as to what happened.” He pulls out a green paper from the folder, handing it to Dazai.
“Alright.” Dazai manages to reply.
The last couple of seconds are spent in quiet, both of them staring at each other with no words being exchanged. The air is thick, and Chuuya clears his throat awkwardly.
“Bye then, Dazai.” Is all he hears until the other is turning around and waving a quick hand in the air and returning to the office. Dazai couldn’t even utter a noise at the goodbye, all he could offer was his unmoving presence for a few moments until he eventually turned around and walked away.
Funny how you can actually feel content in life in one moment, and then next, realize how much you have been missing.