Chapter Text
The worst part wasn’t having to constantly share a room with Dazai. That definitely wasn’t great, but it wasn’t the worst part of this whole thing.
It wasn’t the fact that they slept in a different place every night.
The worst part was the nightmares.
He still had the regular recurrent nightmare: His headmaster looming over him, reminding him that he’d never amount to anything or torturing him. He could deal with that, he’d had to deal with that for as far back as he could remember.
Those nightmares about Dazai still plagued him, and those were… slightly harder to deal with. They ranged from Dazai berating Atsushi to Dazai holding him down so he could be torn apart. Waking up to see Dazai certainly didn’t help, but it was still something he could deal with.
The worst part, the very worst part, was seeing Oda die several times every night.
Dazai never explained what had happened to Oda. Atsushi just knew that he was dead and there’d been blood. That was more than enough information for his brain to conjure up at least a thousand scenarios that could have happened.
Every night, it was bombs and bullets and stab wounds. Every night, the air seemed to be thick with the smell of blood. Every night, he woke up with a start, assuming he managed to close his eyes at all.
Eating became hard again. He doubted he could keep anything down, and he felt ill when he so much as looked at food. Dazai was less than pleased with that development.
“Eat,” Dazai ordered, shoving a convenience store sandwich at him.
Atsushi’s stomach churned at the sight of it.
“I’m not hungry,” he replied, not looking up.
It wasn’t a complete lie. Atsushi had been hungry before, he’d been starving before. What he was feeling now was a very mild version of that. He could endure not eating for another day or so before he’d admit to being “hungry.”
Dazai pushed the sandwich a little more insistently towards Atsushi. “You hardly ate yesterday.” He clicked his tongue. “You’re fifteen. Stop acting like a five-year-old and eat something.”
“I don’t wan--”
“Think very carefully about what you want to say to me right now, Atsushi-kun.”
The tone Dazai used was enough to kill Atsushi’s words before they could hit the air. Slowly, carefully he took the offered food. Then, something else occurred to him. “How do I know it’s not poisoned?” It came out as more of an accusation than an actual question, and regret flashed through Atsushi the second he’d spoken.
He’s definitely going to punish me for that.
Dazai hardly reacted. “If I wanted you dead, your body would be at the bottom of a river or corroded away by acid at this point.” He gestured to the sandwich and let the conversation drop.
Atsushi had been pushing his limits with Dazai for the past few days, mostly by quietly refusing to eat or by not responding when he was acknowledged.
Something in their dynamic had changed somewhat. Atsushi wasn’t completely sure what in their dynamic had changed, but he could feel that something was off. Maybe it had something to do with seeing Dazai cry.
Where did they stand now?
What were they now that the Port Mafia was out of the picture? Dazai had said that Atsushi was still his apprentice, but really, what was that supposed to mean?
It had been strange since that night. Dazai hadn’t hit him since then; he rarely even laid a finger on him since then. Atsushi couldn’t say he wanted everything to go back to normal. Being with the Port Mafia was worse than all of the bewilderment he faced right now.
Everything going on was just… confusing.
/-/-/
Dazai woke up late that night when Atsushi kicked off the sheets and dashed to the bathroom in a panic.
He sighed and ran his fingers through his hair as he heard the boy retch.
Sleep had been hard to find lately. Thinking about Odasaku and how to avoid the Port Mafia’s clutches for now weren’t very sedating thoughts. And it didn’t help that Atsushi was very verbal with a lot of his nightmares. He tossed, turned, cried, and mumbled in his sleep every night.
Dazai could guess that a good many of Atsushi’s nightmares were about him.
He wasn’t quite sure what the other handful of nightmares were about, and he didn’t feel inclined to delve deeper into that topic. It didn’t matter too much to him.
As far as he knew, the boy had been facing nightmares like this for a long time and at some point, it was possible he’d get past them. But for now they have to deal with it.
It wasn’t normal for Atsushi to throw up as a result…
If the boy was actually ill, going from place to place in Yokohama would only get harder. Leaving the Port Mafia was already hard enough while dragging Atsushi along with him.
Dazai was awake now, and there was little chance of him going back to sleep any time soon. He swung his legs over the side of the bed and pushed himself up.
If his apprentice was actually sick, it would be best to take care of it now rather than later. If Dazai found out what the problem was now, he could be quick about finding which medicine he needed and stealing it from a nearby hospital.
He didn’t bother knocking.
Dazai found Atsushi hunched over the toilet, breathing heavily. He was pale, even more than normal. His eyes were bloodshot and teary. A small smear of vomit hung on his chin. And Atsushi was shaking hard, his skin shiny with sweat.
His eyes seemed to go hard when he looked at Dazai.
Those eyes were different now. He used to have soft eyes, scared eyes. That changed after so long. There was something guarded in his gaze, more than what it had been before. However, not everything had changed. He couldn’t quite hide that surge of humiliation in his eyes.
Atsushi spat into the toilet, swallowed hard, and stood on shaky legs. Slowly, he moved to the sink to wipe off his face and rinse out his mouth. He didn’t look at Dazai, though not like how he used to avoid Dazai’s eyes with his head down and with his lip between his teeth. This time, he seemed to be trying to keep his head up and ignore Dazai.
“Atsushi-kun, do you have a fever?”
He gave no answer as he shoved past Dazai.
Dazai caught him by the shoulder, he didn’t feel feverish. “Are you sick?” He said in a louder voice.
“ No ,” Atsushi said, pulling himself out of Dazai’s grasp. His eyes were fierce now, narrowed and angry, but it wasn’t hard to see the shimmer of tears. He darted back to his bed before Dazai could grab him again.
Then, he just slipped under the covers and pulled them over his head.
End of discussion.
A very childish way to end a discussion, but it was an end.
Dazai let it drop. No use in making the boy hate him more.
Besides, Dazai thought, stretching his arms and grabbing a book he’d bought earlier that week. If he has enough energy to have an attitude with me, he’s probably fine.
Night turned to morning, and Atsushi slept soundly for the rest of the time.
“Oh, you’re up,” Dazai commented when Atsushi let the covers come off of him.
He stiffened. The steel that had been in his eyes that night had melted at some point over night. He was more subdued now, eyes downcast, mouth a stiff line.
Dazai tilted his head. “Where’s all that fire you had last night, Atsushi-kun?” It was a taunt, a taunt that left his mouth purely out of habit.
Atsushi flinched, looking spent and small. For a moment, it almost looked like he’d pull the covers over his head again.
Dazai sighed as he laced his fingers and regarded his apprentice with forced softness in his face.
“How are you feeling?”
Atsushi looked down like he’d irritate Dazai if he looked at him directly for too long. He didn’t say anything for a few minutes, and Dazai assumed he just wouldn’t answer, that he’d decided to go silent again.
“I’m okay,” Atsushi muttered.
“You understand things are different now, don’t you?” Dazai said, trying to inject warmth into his voice, which had begun to sound foreign in his ears.
Atsushi nodded, still not looking at Dazai.
He was terrified.
He was scared of Dazai.
He was afraid to speak to him or even look at him.
How was Dazai supposed to get through to him after he’d been so thoroughly traumatized… by Dazai ?
They came and went in the past week, those moments where Dazai didn’t know exactly what to do or how to handle something. He found himself hesitating a few times before, and he hesitated now. It didn’t show on his face, but thoughts coursed through his head. When he was in the Mafia, he hardly felt confliction. He’d run through scenarios and weigh the pros and cons in his head and come to a decision in less than a second.
Atsushi needed space, Dazai decided, even though it’d been a week since they’d left.
“Good,” he said, effectively ending the conversation.
Silence ensued for about thirty minutes. Dazai stole a few glances at Atsushi.
The boy’s eyebrows were furrowed, a little wrinkle appearing between them as he bit the inside of his cheek with his teeth and stared hard at the sheets like he was studying them.
Dazai dug through their small stash of cheap food and groaned. “We’re out of crab,” he muttered irritably.
That seemed to catch Atsushi’s attention. His head snapped up and he slipped out of bed like this was the most exciting news he’d heard all week. All things considered, the week had been very dull.
“Anything you want?” Dazai asked, tugging on a coat, his eyes still not totally accustomed to seeing tan instead of black when he looked down at himself. He pulled an adequate amount of money from a wallet of bills he kept near the food.
“Can I go to buy it?”
“No.”
There was no surprise on Atsushi’s face, but there were still traces of disappointment. “Why not?” He asked quietly. It was a cautious voice he spoke in, hesitant.
Dazai turned to him, narrowing his eyes slightly. Then, he walked over to Atsushi and very slowly said, “Stay here.” It was a normal threat that lacked his normal bite. “Am I understood?” He asked, looking down at Atsushi.
“Yes,” he muttered, falling back on his bed since he likely wouldn’t be doing anything else today.
“Is there anything you want?” Dazai repeated.
Atsushi looked up at the ceiling. “More stuff to make ochazuke.” His voice was still soft and nervous; Dazai almost hadn’t heard him at all.
“Alright.” Dazai patted his head, which made him flinch. “Remember,” he murmured, clenching his fingers slightly in Atsushi’s hair, though carefully enough so it didn’t hurt the boy at all. “ Don’t leave this suite.”
“I won’t.”
/-/-/
Atsushi watched Dazai leave their hotel from the window. He was high up and it was surprising that he could make out that it was Dazai at all, but his tiger eyesight had a decent range.
His lungs ached for the outdoor air. He wanted to feel the wind on his face and stand on the solid concrete again.
The last time he’d been outside was a few days ago when they’d moved to their current hotel. It’d been late morning, the sun peeking from behind the clouds, the fingers of God reaching down to the city. It had been one of those days where the air had a slight chill to it, but one could be warmed by simply standing in a sunny spot and cooled by stepping into the shade. The city suddenly didn’t look so dark and ominous, instead, the entire thing was warm and beating with life.
Then, Dazai had pulled him inside and told him to keep his head down before dragging him to their new room and pulling the curtains shut. And that was it. Now, he was back to being a spectator, and more importantly… a prisoner.
He looked back down at the people and cars several stories below him before focusing on Dazai again. The man was looking up now. Atsushi was fairly sure he couldn’t see him clearly from this distance, but his body suddenly felt cold all the same.
Dazai made a wide sort of horizontal tugging motion with his hand. A clear enough signal. Close the curtains. Atsushi sighed before obeying the silent command.
He would be in trouble in the next fifteen minutes or so when Dazai got back. He knew that for sure because he’d managed to get a good look at Dazai’s face as he pulled the curtains shut.
We’re going to have a talk about this when I get back, his expression had said.
Atsushi didn’t feel as scared of that look as he would have been a week ago. Dazai still hardly touched him save a few pats on the shoulder or head. He hadn’t hit him since… Atsushi wasn’t sure of how long ago his last beating had been, but he hadn’t been bruised since leaving the Mafia.
It was even rare for Dazai to speak to him. Whenever they actually spoke to each other, it was something mundane like, “You take the shower first.” or “It’s late; go to bed.” or “What kind of food do we need?”
He was still perplexed by all of it, though he understood all of this had some connection to Oda’s death. It only made sense. He knew that Oda had been friends with Dazai, and remembered that the last thing the man told him before cutting the transmitter out of his neck had been that Oda was dead.
Atsushi shook his head to clear it. He couldn’t be going over the past in his head right now, nor could he be mourning Oda at that moment. He could do that later when he had a little more space and air to clear his mind. Right now, he had to be thinking of a way out.
Everything should have been simple, but things were never simple with Dazai. It wasn’t as though Atsushi could just slip away now as Dazai was buying groceries.
Well, he could, but Dazai would catch him before he made it too far.
His mentor had mentioned it a few times: There was nowhere Atsushi could run where he couldn’t follow.
Maybe that was true, and maybe it wasn’t, but Atsushi would need more than a ten-minute head start to have any chance of getting away.
Leaving while Dazai was sleeping was an option, but that was… almost impossible to pull off, at best.
In all the time they’d been on the run, Atsushi had only once or twice seen Dazai sleeping. It was like he wasn’t even human, the way he seemed to be awake at all hours.
No, nothing like that would work. It all came down to time. He just needed Dazai to be gone for a long enough time so he could make a break for it. If he was careful enough and was clever enough to hide in just the right places, he’d have a fighting chance.
So, for now, he’d wait. He’d bide his time.
Sooner or later, they’d go to a new place or Dazai would need to take care of some business that would take him at least an hour or so, and Atsushi could make himself scarce.
His plan was terribly simple, he knew that, but it was the best he could come up with. And for now, he’d just have to work with it.
“I thought I told you to keep the curtains drawn,” came Dazai’s voice as the door swung open.
Atsushi looked at him with blank eyes.
“Windows like these offer an easy target especially if you’re pressing your head up against the glass.” He dumped his groceries on the table in the front of the room. “When I tell you to do something, I expect you to listen.” Dazai made sure the curtains were securely closed before turning to Atsushi. “It’s like you’re trying to make this harder for me.”
Atsushi said nothing, just stared at Dazai with empty eyes and then looked anywhere else in the room. He hadn’t even thought about making things more difficult for Dazai, but he supposed that was just a little added bonus if he made Dazai’s life slightly harder.
/-/-/
It took another seven days for Atsushi to get the chance he’d been waiting for.
Dazai hadn’t made it obvious that he’d be out for longer than the usual ten or fifteen minutes he took to go grab food and other essentials, but Atsushi was observant enough to notice that Dazai was wearing more professional clothes. He normally wore little more than T-shirts and sweatpants these days.
Atsushi pretended not to notice any change. He had his nose in a book and caught a few quick glances.
“Atsushi-kun.”
He looked up. Dazai held a cup of noodles to him.
“Eat something,” he said neutrally. “You haven’t eaten at all today.”
“I--”
“Don’t tell me you aren’t hungry. You aren’t a good liar.”
Atsushi sighed and took it before stirring the broth and noodles around with his chopsticks.
“Do you still think I drugged your food or something?” Dazai asked with a disapproving look on his face.
“Not really,” Atsushi said flatly. “It would be a waste of time and money to keep me alive for the past two weeks.” He managed to keep eye contact with Dazai for a few moments before his gaze dropped down to his food and he dragged some noodles to his mouth.
Dazai hummed. “Quite a waste if I wanted you dead,” he agreed.
Atsushi poked at the broth when he’d finished off the noodles, a question he’d had for a while peeking out to the forefront on his mind. “Dazai-san, why did you take me with you?” He paused, forcing his eyes to look at the man. “Why even keep me alive?”
“Unimportant.”
How is it unimportant?
Atsushi said nothing, his lips formed a stiff line and he quietly watched Dazai turn his head from side to side to crack his neck.
“If it’s really that big of a deal to you, we can discuss it later.”
“Okay,” Atsushi mumbled.
Dazai shrugged his coat on. “I’ll be back in a little while. Stay here.” He didn’t move until Atsushi nodded.
He left without another word. Atsushi counted the minutes, guessing when Dazai would be too far to see the window. The last thing Atsushi needed was for Dazai to get the slightest hint of what he was about to do.
If he failed to get away now, he knew that Dazai would make sure that he’d never be able to run again. Then, he’d be a prisoner without even the barest illusion of freedom.
Atsushi looked out the window, managing to see the hem of Dazai’s coat disappear out of his sight. That was good. It was all he really needed for right now. Atsushi now knew which direction Dazai had gone, and now, he could walk the opposite way.
Grabbing all the money they had, Atsushi staggered as he felt a wave of exhaustion.
Oh no, he thought as he swayed on his feet a little. It wasn’t a natural kind of tired feeling. It came over him way too heavily and way too quickly to be anything normal. He drugged me... He cursed quietly. For two weeks, he’d been skeptical of the food Dazai gave him, and of course, the one time he decided that he would accept it without questioning it too much… Of course, that had to be the time Dazai had drugged it!
It hardly would have made a difference either way since Dazai practically badgered him into eating every time he skipped a few meals, but Atsushi felt like an idiot for accepting the food without question anyway. Trusting Dazai always led to something bad. He’d trusted Dazai when he’d said Atsushi could find belonging in the Port Mafia, and Atsushi’s hands were bloodied as a result. He’d believed Dazai when he said that Mori was just making sure he hadn’t contracted a pathogen, and then Atsushi had been torn apart. He’d let Dazai convince him that he’d do nothing to harm him, and there Atsushi was, suddenly feeling heavy and tired.
I have to get it out! He thought, his will to leave giving him some sort of advantage over whatever drug was affecting him. Atsushi stumbled into the bathroom, dropping to his knees in front of the toilet and squeezing his eyes shut.
Words failed to express how much he wanted to avoid doing this, but there was no time to mull it over or whine about it. He took a deep breath in before shoving a hand into his mouth.
He retched. Saliva flooding his mouth and tears flooding his eyes as he gagged into the toilet before finally, his previous meal rushed up. Atsushi coughed hard, clearing whatever was left of it from his body. And he felt awful.
Of course, he hadn’t felt great before deciding to purge, but aside from the exhaustion and horror of being drugged by Dazai, he hadn’t been in any sort of pain.
Now, his throat burned, his eyes watered uncontrollably, and his stomach ached with cramps. Not to mention the rancid taste in his mouth.
It’s over now... He thought. The portion of the drug that had been absorbed into his blood seemed to give him some sense of unwarranted calm that he couldn’t quite shake off. He grabbed a glass and filled it with water before swishing it around in his mouth and spitting it out to clear away any remaining vomit.
Tiger, he thought, leaning against the wall. Give me some of your strength. Please don’t take over. If we make a scene, we’ll never get away from Dazai-san.
The jolt of adrenaline caught him by surprise. It coursed through him like an electric current. That tranquility vanished and he found himself left with the sound of blood rushing in his ears and a strong pounding in his chest.
Thank you. He thought as he dropped his almost empty glass and dashed out the door.
/-/-/
It would be going too far to say Atsushi had missed being outdoors in Yokohama at night. The night belonged to the Port Mafia after all. The city after the sunset had never been a good place for him, for that was the time when people died. That was the time when he bloodied his hands, when people screamed as their jaws were smashed in, when three shots rang out in the night. Being out at night wasn’t safe, but he had to push through, goodness knew Dazai would never give him a chance like this again.
Atsushi decided that finding a hiding place soon would be ideal. He’d been out for nearly an hour, which felt so much longer with the idea that Port Mafia agents could be lurking behind any corner.
It would likely take him a day of travel for him to get far enough from the city to breathe more easily. If he could just find a quiet, hidden place to sleep at night, he’d be able to head out at the crack of dawn.
All things considered, he was feeling better about all of this. He was awake and his mind felt clearer than it had in weeks. In keeping his head down, he’d attracted no attention. And for the first time in a very long time, Atsushi felt genuinely hopeful.
The sense of hope may have just come from the fact that this escape attempt was going far better than the last one had gone. Maybe it was a side effect of the energy the tiger had given to him.
So long as he got out of the city before too long and he found decent places to hide, everything would be fine.
“It’s such a surprise to run into you here, Atsushi-kun.”
He froze.
No...
The hopefulness he’d felt was snuffed out like a flame.
A bandaged arm laid across his shoulders.
“Especially,” Dazai continued. “Since I told you to stay in the suite. ”
Atsushi stiffened, hardly daring to look up. Dazai looked unamused at the very least. The rest of his expression was something unfamiliar.
There has to be a way out. He thought. If I can run through that alley and find a wa--
“Don’t try it.” Dazai’s hand tightened on his shoulder and he leaned closer. “Don’t you dare try to run.” His fingers were digging into Atsushi’s skin now, pressing down hard enough to bruise.
“Dazai-san,” he muttered, trying to sound steadier than he felt. “I can expl--”
“Idiot,” Dazai cut Atsushi off in an angry hiss.
Atsushi swallowed hard. The tiger’s energy, the strength he’d just managed to find disappeared with Dazai’s touch. Now, he felt like little more than a shell. That was it. That was probably his last decent chance to run, and he’d failed so swiftly and so miserably.
He picked up his pace, dragging Atsushi along with him.
The walk back to their hotel felt both too short and too long at the same time. Atsushi’s mind was scrambled. He knew he had to prepare mentally for whatever punishment Dazai would decide on, but somehow he couldn’t. Disobeying orders, leaving the suite were lines he should have never crossed. Or he could have at least tried to be smarter about it.
Dazai was less gentle with him the moment the door closed behind them. He braced his hand on the back of Atsushi’s neck and pushed him further into the room.
Suddenly, everything there was a makeshift torture instrument. Doors could be slammed on his fingers to break them. Water could be boiled on the stove and poured over his head. Everything in Dazai’s hands could hurt him.
He didn’t struggle as Dazai scanned the room and dragged him along. His limbs were suddenly too stiff to move. Something in his brain didn’t let him fight back. Maybe he’d been so heavily conditioned to believe that everything would be more severe if he resisted.
Dazai released Atsushi’s neck before his hands found his shoulders.
He shook him so hard that Atsushi’s teeth clinked together, sending pain through his head.
When he stopped, Atsushi couldn’t see straight, every tooth hurt, and there was blood in his mouth. He must have bitten his tongue at some point.
“What were you thinking ?”
Atsushi looked away, swallowing down metallic tasting saliva. He didn’t answer. Nothing he said would help him in this situation.
A bandaged hand caught Atsushi’s chin, jerking his head up.
The expression on Dazai’s face made him gasp.
Dazai had never been angry with him before. He’d been irritated, tired, or bored with him before and even those were emotions to be weary of, but never had he been angry. In all but one of Atsushi’s memories of Dazai, his eyes had always, always been cold. There was heat in his eyes now. They burned with rage.
“Do you not understand the position we’re in? How much of a risk we’re at?” His voice rose a little with every question. “Or did that all just go over your head?!” Dazai’s grip tightened. Atsushi’s jaw ached.
Dazai had grabbed him by the chin a handful of times before, but those times had been different. Those times had just been a quick way to fully capture his attention. Dazai had only used two fingers and his thumb. Now, he used his whole hand, long fingers reaching up to Atsushi’s cheekbones with the rest of his hand nearly covering Atsushi’s mouth.
“Do you want to get dragged back to Mori-san and cut open for organs?” Dazai paused, his expression shifting a little. He still looked absolutely livid, but now his face was tinged with something else… disgust.
“Go right ahead,” he said, his voice dropping to a venomous whisper. “That seems to be the only thing you’re good for.”
Atsushi’s lips trembled, making it impossible for him to speak. Surely Dazai felt the shaking under his hand.
His knees buckled. Dazai pulled his hand back and Atsushi crumpled to the floor, too stunned to even cry.
Something--Dazai’s words, his expression, the blistering heat in his voice and eyes--seemed to grab Atsushi by the throat. It was as though someone had flipped a switch and caused him to just shut down.
So, he stayed there, on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest, his eyes open but unseeing.
/-/-/
Dazai swore when he looked at Atsushi again. The boy hadn’t moved for the past hour. His eyes were glassy and his skin was pale.
Well, I hadn’t meant to do that to the kid... He thought as dropped to his knees across from his apprentice.
“Atsushi-kun,” he said, keeping his tone steady.
No response.
“Atsushi-kun,” he repeated, giving the boy’s shoulders a gentle shake.
He rose his head, but it didn’t take a genius to see that there was nothing behind his eyes. Atsushi’s eyes were dull, looking more like painted doll eyes than something human. He wasn’t hearing him, not really. He was just responding to sound.
Dazai clicked his tongue before putting a hand under Atsushi’s nose.
He was still breathing at least.
“Stay,” he muttered, rising to his feet and leaving Atsushi there.
Placing a pot to boil on the stove, Dazai ran a hand through his hair. What a mess. He thought, leaving it there. He pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to ease the tempest in his skull.
He’d only made it two weeks outside of the Mafia, and he’d already so thoroughly failed at being a better person. A better person wouldn’t have bruised a panicked child. A better person wouldn’t have frightened his apprentice until he broke .
Not for the first time in those two weeks, Dazai began to wonder if he was actually capable of doing what Odasaku had told him.
Maybe he was too corrupted to become a good man.
Maybe he’d hurt too many people and burned too many bridges to find redemption.
Maybe he and Odasaku were cut from different cloth, and being someone like Odasaku was a goal that was far beyond his reach.
And it was confusing for him to think about. He was Dazai Osamu. He was the demon prodigy. He was the youngest Port Mafia executive, and no one got that far by messing up or being unsure of what path they wanted to take and how to go about it.
He’d only succeeded because he had been ruthless and had made very few mistakes. On top of that, he couldn’t remember a time where he’d spoken to someone like he’d just spoken to Atsushi while he was in the Port Mafia. Dazai had always been so cold. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d been so angry and had let it show.
Dazai released a breath, leaning his head against the wall. He felt like he was dying, but not in the way he’d wanted to. This way hurt too much.
He felt his stomach twisting, as though someone had carved a bloody line into his abdomen and grabbed a handful of his insides. He wasn’t quite sure what this feeling was.
Regret?
Mourning?
Hopelessness?
He couldn’t put his finger on it, and really, he supposed it didn’t matter. He was here and he had something he needed to do. So, he did what he’d always done. He ignored the pain and focused on the task at hand.
He looked back at the water, which was at a rolling boil now. Dazai swallowed hard, his mouth managed to taste metallic and bitter, but now wasn’t the time to dwell on that. He tossed a few ingredients in and scooped rice into a bowl.
It was nothing great, but Atsushi ate chazuke every chance he got, so it was the best Dazai could make with their limited resources.
Dazai set the food on a bedside table before returning to Atsushi. He was still unresponsive and unmoving. Slowly, he slipped an arm under Atsushi’s legs and slid the other behind his back. Atsushi did nothing. Dazai carefully heaved him up.
His apprentice was hardly more than dead weight. His limbs limp as Dazai gathered him up in his arms. His head leaned against Dazai’s chest.
Gently, Dazai set him down on one of the beds, propping him up against the headboard so he was sitting up.
“Atsushi-kun,” he said softly. “Come back.”
He raised his eyes to look at Dazai, but it was clear that he was still very far away.
“Okay,” Dazai muttered. “We’ll try this then.” He took Atsushi’s chin in one hand, prying his mouth open and slipping a spoonful of tea between Atsushi’s teeth.
The boy spewed the chazuke broth after a second, coughing hard as he doubled over.
“Good to see you back,” Dazai said.
Atsushi tensed. Slowly, slowly raising his head to look at Dazai.
His eyes were glazed over with fear. He was probably imagining all the ways Dazai would punish him for trying to run. And he was borderline hyperventilating as a result.
“Hey,” Dazai said gently, dropping a hand on Atsushi’s head and pushing his fingers through silvery hair. “Calm down. Calm down. Everything’s fine.” He pulled his hand away since it wasn’t doing any good. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
Atsushi didn’t look convinced, pulling his legs closer to his body and setting his chin down on his knees. His posture got the message across. I don’t trust you.
“That’s fair,” he murmured. Dazai gestured to the ochazuke on the nightstand. “Eat something though.”
He glared at the bowl. “I already ate.”
“And then forced yourself to vomit it up, I’m aware.” He tried to add more inflection in his voice, but that proved difficult right now. “You didn’t put much effort into cleaning up your mess.”
Atsushi shuddered, curling up a little tighter.
“I didn’t drug this one,” Dazai said before taking the bowl and eating a bit of the rice to prove he was being truthful. “ See? It’s safe.” He laid it back down on the nightstand since Atsushi hated whenever he pushed him to eat.
They sat in silence for a few minutes, and for the first time, Dazai found the silence uncomfortable.
“Atsushi-kun.”
Atsushi’s back went perfectly straight.
“Pick a number between one and ten.”
“What?”
“Just pick one.”
/-/-/
“Seven,” Atsushi said, blinking.
He didn’t know what Dazai had planned, but when Dazai told him to do something, it was best that he complied quickly.
“Seven?” Dazai responded. He chuckled. “That’s a bold choice since you don’t know why I’m asking you to choose a number.”
Atsushi’s mouth went dry. He’d chosen the first number that had come to mind. Was he subjecting himself to longer torture by choosing seven?
“Alright then,” he said in a softer tone. “You get seven questions.”
“Huh?”
“You can ask me seven questions, and I’ll answer honestly.”
Atsushi narrowed his eyes. “You expect me to trust you?”
Dazai sighed and folded his hands. “I don’t.” He shrugged. “I’ve given you every reason to distrust me, but even so,” he leaned forward. “I’m the only link you have to the truth. Ultimately, it’s your decision to believe me or not.”
Atsushi didn’t say anything for a long time. He tucked his legs in further and let his forehead rest against his knees.
He had seven questions that he could ask. He could get seven pieces of information that had been out of reach before. Careful thinking was key.
“What happened to Oda-san?” The words left his mouth before he could stop them, but that was okay. He wanted to know. He needed to know.
Dazai regarded him quietly for a long time, and Atsushi began to think he’d leave the conversation right there, leave him with no answers.
“There’s a lot to talk about there,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck. Dazai ran a hand through his hair. “Where to start,” he muttered, talking more to himself than to Atsushi.
It took a long time for Dazai to explain everything. Between the intense details, the long pauses for Atsushi to compose himself after crying, and the especially long pauses where Dazai wouldn’t speak, it took more than an hour.
“They’re all gone,” Atsushi murmured. He relaxed his muscles a bit, rocking slowly. “All the kids… Oda-san…” His throat was tight. Just when he thought he’d run out of tears to cry, they just kept on rising again and again.
Dazai got up, turning away from him and leaving him alone for a minute. Atsushi leaned back against the headboard. A new kind of exhaustion came over him, and chest hurt as though Mori was looming over him, thrusting a scalpel through his sternum.
“Here,” Dazai said, pushing a glass of water into his hand. “You look like you need it.”
Atsushi nodded slightly, taking the water and downing it in one gulp.
It could have been drugged, he knew that, but he couldn’t bring himself to care that much. If he slept, he wouldn’t think of Oda or the kids. He wouldn’t think of explosions or gunshots or blood. It would be a blessing if Dazai sedated him now.
“Is this drugged?” Atsushi asked.
“No. That would put a lot of strain on your stomach, especially considering that you threw up today.” He paused to take the glass from Atsushi and put it off to the side. “Just so you know, that didn’t count as one of the seven.”
Atsushi hardly reacted. He’d completely forgotten about the seven questions he was supposed to be asking.
“Why did you take me with you?”
Dazai handed him the bowl of ochazuke again. This time, Atsushi accepted it. He didn’t really want to eat, but he was hungry and he needed something to banish the metallic taste from his mouth. The food was cold by now, but he’d eaten worse.
Dazai smirked. “I told you, didn’t I? Odasaku told me to take care of orphans, and you were right there, so it only made sense to take you with.”
“But wouldn’t it have been easier to leave me behind?”
“Yes, it would have been easier, but that Odasaku wouldn’t be happy with me for doing that. He liked you a lot after all.”
Atsushi almost smiled at that. He’d liked Oda a lot. It was nice to know that he hadn’t just been a burden on the man.
“What would have happened if you had left me behind?”
Dazai raised his eyebrows. “Really? You’re going to use one of your four remaining questions on a ‘what if?”
Atsushi pursed his lips. Dazai made a good point, but it wasn’t as though he knew what else to ask. Dazai had kept him in the dark for so long, and he wasn’t sure that he really wanted to know all the details of what had been kept from him.
“I want to know,” Atsushi said quietly.
“Alright then.” Dazai sighed. “It’s likely that Mori would have taken you in and he’d have manipulated you, turned you into his pawn.” Dazai’s frown deepened. “He might have tried to make you like me, but more easily manipulated.”
The thought of it made Atsushi dizzy.
If Dazai had just left him behind, if he’d done the logical thing, Atsushi could have been twisted into something like Dazai. He wanted to deny that he’d let that happen to him. But… Look at him now. Atsushi had killed, he’d smashed people’s jaws in. He wasn’t hard to manipulate, even though he’d learned how to see signs of other people’s control over him, he realized that he was still afraid, still so fragile. And those were the traits that had made him such an easy target for Dazai.
“I suppose Chuuya could have taken you in too,” Dazai said, interrupting Atsushi’s thoughts. “He had a soft spot for you as well, though that apprenticeship would likely fall through since he has such a short fuse.”
Minutes ticked by where neither said anything. Atsushi, unsure of what to ask, mentally unable to ignore the image of himself twisted into someone like Dazai. His mentor made no effort to distract him or fill the silence. Conversation wasn’t needed.
“Atsushi-kun,” Dazai said.”If this is all too straining for you, we can leave it for now.”
It was strange for Dazai’s tone not to be taunting. Had it been any other day, he would have been hinting or just outright stating that Atsushi was weak. Now, his voice was soft and as sincere as Dazai’s voice could sound.
“Atsushi-ku--”
“One more,” Atsushi said. He looked down at his hands for a moment. “Why did the dissections suddenly stop?” When he was met with silence, he kept talking, his words tumbling over each other. “Just-- I… Something had to have happened, right? I woke up with an oxygen mask on and--” He clamped his mouth shut before he could keep rambling on and get himself more worked up.
Dazai’s lips pressed together. Then, he sighed. “I half expected you to ask about that.”
He didn’t speak for a moment.
“Well, there’s a very simple reason for it.” Dazai looked at him, a ribbon of light from the window stretching over his face, seeming to further darken the shadows that played across his features.
“Your heart stopped. You were clinically dead.”