Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Dazai stared at Mori. “HAH?! Absolutely not! No, I’m not going to high school. That would be so boring.”

Elise looked up from where she was doodling on the floor to stare at the source of the noise. Keeping her distance from Dazai to not get nullified again. That was something Dazai did occasionally to piss of Mori.

“It’s an order, Dazai.”, Mori said sharply. Too lazy to argue any further, Dazai complied and took the paper. He didn’t know why Mori thought this was necessary. What good would boring school do if he didn’t plan on living long enough to graduate anyway?

But noo, Mori decided to send him anyway because he thought that it would do good to keep him occupied, when not on the job. Or maybe Hirotsu talked him into it. Or this was a mission and Mori didn’t think it was necessary to tell him beforehand.

He looked at the paper. It was a letter to confirm his acceptance at the school. But something caught his eye. Tsushima Shuji. Yes, that was his name in official documents, but Tsushima Shuji went missing alongside his family a long time ago. His name now was Dazai Osamu, Mori knew that. He just took joy in subtly or not so subtly showing off his control over Dazai.

Dazai schooled his expression neutral as to not give Mori the satisfaction of knowing he was getting under his skin. He stuffed the paper into his coat pocket and left the office without waiting to be dismissed.

---

Ishikawa was nervous. They sat in the assembly hall and looked around. The ceremony was about to begin. The hall was filled with students and thanks to twisted fate lots of different colored strings. Twisted fate was Ishikawa’s ability, it allowed them to see a string connecting people whose souls are connected.

The ability wasn’t particularly useful, seeing as only Ishikawa could see the strings and they couldn’t turn it off, so there was a constant tangle of colors around them. Mind you not all people had a connection, but at least half of them did. Ishikawa supposed they could theoretically help people meet important people in their lives, as the soul connections did connect at birth so even if they hadn’t met yet the string connected them already. But wanting to play it safe, Ishikawa keeps their ability a secret.

Nervously Ishikawa chewed on their inner cheek. Meeting new people was stressful and being in a room with so many colored strings was overwhelming. They hated social gatherings, they’d rather sit by themselves with a book or a mystery to solve. They didn’t have much interest in social etiquette. They’d rather read books that would disturb the people around them if they knew what they were about.

After the assembly was over everyone made their way to their classroom.

Ishikawa found themselves observing the others that entered the classroom. They had taken a seat in the back, maybe not the best decision seeing as the other students’ colorful strings would block their view of the blackboard. But Ishikawa didn’t like sitting in the front because the teacher would most likely pick on the students in the front row more often.

Nervously Ishikawa rubbed their elbow, as the classroom continued to fill up. One student in particular caught their eye. He made his way to the back of the room silently. If they hadn’t been observing the door, they wouldn’t have noticed his entrance.

His school uniform hung loose on his frame, but the sleeves were just long enough. He wore bandages over his right eye. A second glance told them that he also wore bandages on his arms and neck, because they peaked out underneath his clothes.

Ishikawa wondered if he was injured but he showed no indication of being in pain. Before they could muse about it any further their attention was caught by the red and blue string attached to him. Normally Ishikawa would just move on with their life and think about something else, like the ethic dilemma the protagonist of their current read found themselves in, but this boy was interesting.

The chatter grew quiet when the teacher stepped into the classroom. Out of the corner of their eye Ishikawa saw the bandaged boy sit up a bit straighter.

The teacher, an older man with gray hair, wearing a monocle introduced himself as Hirotsu. He seemed like the kind of teacher that doesn’t give a shit if the students learn anything or not as long as they’re not distracting anyone.

Because it was the first day, he had everyone introduce themselves. As predicted, he called on the first row to begin. The first student was a blonde girl with pink painted nails. She introduced herself as Kirigaya Kyoko. And on they went, slowly getting to the back of the classroom until there were only Ishikawa and the bandaged boy left, to introduce themselves.

Just as Ishikawa opened their mouth to say something, a phone started to ring. Hirotsu-sensei took out his flip phone and excused himself. The moment the door closed, the students began to whisper, going quiet again when Hirotsu-sensei poked his head back into the room. “Da- Tsushima-san it’s for you.”

The bandaged boy sighed, got up and took the phone from Hirotsu-sensei, then stepping outside.

The teacher motioned for Ishikawa to introduce themselves. “I’m Ishikawa Izumi and I go by they/them pronouns so I would appreciate it if you respected that.” They thought getting that out of the way as soon as possible would be useful. A few students looked confused, but no one said anything, Ishikawa counted that as a win. Hirotsu-sensei wrote something down and nodded.

Tsushima reentered the room and whispered something to their teacher, looking vaguely displeased but it was hard to tell. It wasn’t as though Ishikawa was particularly bad at reading people, but Tsushima was hard to read by what they could tell.

Hirotsu-sensei explained their schedules and other administrative things. Tsushima was slumping at his desk doing something on the phone he hadn’t given back to the teacher.

When all administrative things were explained Hirotsu-sensei moved on to have them take an evaluation quiz for maths to determine where everyone stood. What teacher made his students take a test on the first day? Granted it wouldn’t be graded but still and why did it have to be maths? As Hirotsu-sensei came by Tsushima’s desk Ishikawa was sure that the boy would get scolded but nothing. In fact, the teacher only rolled his eyes and moved on. Tsushima flipped the phone closed and pocketed it. He started to do his work.

The next time Ishikawa looked up the bandaged boy was starring of into space looking even more bored than before, the worksheet was pushed to the corner of his desk and looked to be completed.

Either that guy was a genius and completed the whole sheet in the time Ishikawa solved two problems or what was more likely he didn’t give a shit and just scribbled some random numbers down.

Ishikawa had not been starring per see but they still felt caught when Tsushima met their gaze. There was something unnerving about his eyes that made Ishikawa look away. The gaze was distant and cold, almost dead. It reminded them of the fish you could buy at the market. The whole thing that still had eyes and everything. The kind of dead eyes that starred back at you and made you shiver.

The guy had brown eyes, but Ishikawa could swear they had shimmered red for a second. They quickly lowered their gaze onto their worksheet and continued working.

That guy was a mystery and they would solve it.

---

Kyoko had completed the worksheet in record time. She raised her hand and looked around the classroom. Hirotsu-sensei walked rounds in the classroom doing that thing that always seemed to freak out students, not Kyoko though, she was confident in her abilities to complete the work to her teachers liking.

Her eyes stopped at the back of the classroom. There was this weird, bandaged guy, the one who got a phone call, what was his name again? Daiushima? No, Tsushima? Yeah, that sounded about right.

So, he was sitting at his desk doing nothing at all. Didn’t he care about his grades? Sure, this wouldn’t get graded but still, didn’t he care what others thought of him?

Hirotsu-sensei had made his way over to her interrupting her thoughts. “Is there a question?”

“Ah, yes, I’m done with my worksheet. What should I do now?”, she asked smiling. Hirotsu-sensei nodded then asked into the room if everyone was done. He received multiple “no’s” as an answer. Nodding again he said, “Well you can do something for yourself until everyone is done, or you can go ahead and compare your answers to Tsushimas, there in the back.”, pointing to the boy from earlier.

Kyoko nodded calmly, but her thoughts were racing, he was already done? Surely, he wasn’t better than her right? No, he couldn’t be. She always worked her ass of to be better than anyone else in her old class. This wouldn’t change just because she was in high school now.

She made her way to the back of the class to sit in the free seat next to Tsushima. He didn’t even look up when she sat down. Rude. “Hirotsu-sensei said that we should compare our answers”, she said quietly as to not disturb the others. Tsushima grumbled as he pushed his sheet over to her.

“Typical pushing all his work onto me, again.”, he muttered something else under his breath, but she couldn’t understand it. What was that even supposed to mean?

Slightly put off by his rudeness she scanned over his answers. She didn’t know what she expected but not a neat loopy handwriting, nor did she expect for most of their answers to be the same. She redid the ones they hadn’t gotten the same answer on, by herself she, might add because he didn’t make any move to help her.

On top of that he had this air about him as if he knew something she didn’t. She paled as she realized that his answers must be the correct ones. And judging from his face he knew it.

This was the moment Kyoko decided that she didn’t like Tsushima at all and that she needed to get higher scores than him. There was still hope that he was just gifted in maths. Surely, she could still beat him in other subjects. Mentally she declared a competition. A one-sided competition yes but that didn’t matter. Also how dare he have a better handwriting than her?

Finally, the others finished their worksheet and Hirotsu-sensei showed them the solutions, which he had taken from Tsushima. So, his answers were the right ones after all.

Tsushima next to her had his head on the table. In the next classes Kyoko remained seated in the back keeping an eye on her rival. To her great displeasure he remained slumped over the table, lazing around but still completing his work just before her as if to annoy her.

It seemed as though he was mocking Hirotsu-sensei with the way he seemingly wasn’t listening to anything he said but still knew what to do. He continued on like that even when they had another teacher.

In English class she was so sure she had him when the teacher gave them an empty paper with the task to write a small essay introducing themselves. Kyoko had started writing the moment she had received the sheet. After writing a few lines she looked up, Tsushima blankly starred at his sheet, unmoving. Then he sighed and clicked his pen.

Kyoko looked back at her own sheet to write a section on her hobbies and motivations that moved her to pursue each one. She heard a sheet being moved next to her, catching sight of Tsushima dropping his head on the table with a low thunk.

The sound alerted the teacher, and he made his way over to them to check on Tsushima. When he asked if everything was alright, Tsushima lifted his head, yawned and told him that he was done writing. The teacher picked up Tsushimas paper in disbelief. He had written one page, no more or less than required of him.

After the teacher finished reading, he said “The writing is good, I didn’t see a lot of spelling mistakes, but next time maybe try being a bit more personal.”

Tsushima stared at him no emotion evident on his face. “I’d rather not.”, his voice barely over a whisper and even though he didn’t say anything threatening he still managed to make it sound that way.

The teacher nodded and went on walking around the room to check on the others and answer questions.

---

Dazai lazed his way through the school day, only completing the worksheets once he noticed the competitive nature of his classmate. In English he just made up some things for his introduction, lying was after all part of his job.

He pointedly ignored the weird stares he got throughout the day. From the moment he had stepped into the school he had been stared at, he had predicted it really, but he wasn’t about to leave his bandages behind for this. That would leave him way to vulnerable in the open and he couldn’t have that. Either way what was beneath the bandages would warrant even more than just stares.

In the phone call Dazai had received information on a classmate of his. Mori had conveniently forgotten to give Dazai that piece of information beforehand. This was just another way to test him, to keep him on his toes and Dazai knew that.

That classmate of his was called Ishikawa Izumi. They possessed an ability that could prove useful to gather information on relationships and it would be unwise to let them fall into an enemy organizations’ hands.

Because even if they thought they hid it well, Ishikawa was kind of obvious about the things their ability let them see. Constantly following the invisible lines between people with their eyes. Dazai supposed that it was an unconscious action, they were probably not even aware they were doing it.

He must admit he was kind of curious about what the connections looked like. But that was more born of his desire to know things than actual interest in the ability. He assumed that it was similar to his, present at all times.

This also being an additional reason for him to wear bandages. His ability clung to his skin, it worked through clothes if he willed it to, but it worked best skin to skin. So, as to not always nullify everything all the time, he restricted the showing of bare skin to a minimum.

Ishikawa was noisy, it could get them into trouble. Dazai smirked at the plan that formed in his head. He would bait them, let them think they were discovering something and have them join because they “knew too much”, even if he only let them find out some superficial things.

It would be more fun than just kidnapping them anyway. It was more work, yes but it would be a fun game, especially since he was stuck here to continue his studies anyway because Mori just needed to be an ass. And it would be cleaner, with less loose ends to tie up. Having them believe they were joining on their own terms was a better way to ensure their loyalty.

As the day went on, he passed his time with the boring and bothersome assignments the teachers gave him, if only to annoy Kyoko. He glared at the teachers that wanted to assign him extra work and felt Ishikawa’s curious gaze on him.

Keeping his expression mostly blank and his voice somewhat monotone, he knew he already had peaked Ishikawa’s interest. That was very practical.

---

Ishikawa had spent some time in the library after school to check it out. They had time because their mother wouldn’t have time to pick them up earlier anyway.

When they stepped out of the building, they noticed Hirotsu-sensei and Tsushima standing in the parking lot. Ishikawa had to wait for their mother to finally pick them up, not wanting to interrupt anything they stayed close to the door.

They couldn’t help but overhear Hirotsu-sensei scolding Tsushima. “…you can’t keep intimidating the other teachers, Dazai-san.” There it was again. When he had slipped up in the first lesson, that’s what he wanted to say. But why?

Tsushima, or Dazai? Glared at him. Then he complained, his voice holding more emotion than anything they heard during the whole day. It sounded upright whiny. “It’s not my fault they’re cowards, also school’s over.”

Ishikawa expected Hirotsu-sensei to scold him further but instead he straightened his posture and just said “Of course, sir.”

Only then came a black car with tinted windows to pick up, not only Dazai but also Hirotsu-sensei.

The next morning Ishikawa was still thinking about the weird encounter they’ve witnessed. Maybe Dazai was Tsushimas first name, after all he had never gotten around to introduce himself. But then why would he call him by his first name? They clearly seemed to know each other. And how did Hirotsu-sensei calling him “sir” fit into the whole thing?

It all seemed so strange. First things first, Ishikawa decided to ask Tsushimas desk neighbor if they knew what his first name is. Tracking down Kyoko hadn’t been hard. She was sat in the classroom already, Tsushima-Dazai hadn’t arrived at school yet so there was no way for him to overhear.

Without giving to much away they asked if Kyoko knew Tsushimas first name. That was the best way to get an answer out of Kyoko, she always liked to show that she knows things.

“Ah, yes. It’s Shuji, I saw it on his worksheet. Didn’t you see it too, when the teacher used his sheet as an answer key?”, came the answer after a moment of thinking.

Ishikawa shrugged. “I haven’t really been paying attention.”

That was a dumb thing to say, because it sent Kyoko on a rant about the importance of actively listening at school. Ishikawa sighed, they should have seen this coming. Saved by the bell that signaled the start of the lesson, they slipped away from the one-sided conversation and onto their seat.

Hirotsu-sensei entered the room with a stack of papers in his hand. Dumping them on his desk. Starting of the lesson by handing out worksheets and telling them to ask if there were any questions.

Tsushima-Dazai was late. He slipped into the classroom a few minutes later, acting as if nothing was wrong. Totally ignoring the cut on his cheek where the blood was seeping out and dripping on his shirt collar.

Hirotsu-sensei noticed and went over to him. Without the slightest hint of concern the teacher handed Tsushima-Dazai a worksheet and a tissue. Tsushima took both, without a word and wiped his cheek. Placing the worksheet on the table then searching for a pen. The bloodied tissue lay discarded on the table.

The blood still hadn’t stopped running, so single droplets made their way onto his worksheet. Unsure of what to do about this Ishikawa went back to their worksheet, after all this was not their problem.

The sound of papers shuffling alerted Ishikawa to look up, catching sight of Tsushima-Dazai pulling out papers from his bag and filling them in. After writing only a few lines he put the papers away again, they too were sporting red and brown blotches on them. The red could be from now, but the brown ones looked to be older.

Ishikawa was curious. But it took them weeks to get anything else on the matter. Weird incidents kept happening but somehow no one else seemed to either notice or care. Ishikawa started to believe that either Tsushima-Dazai was doing it on purpose to rail them up or they were going insane.

---

Chapter Text

After weeks of preparations Dazais plan had finally worked out. Of course, it did. Dazai had anticipated everything, and it went over without a hitch. At least for the business part of it. Dazai was still unsettled by the fact that he himself probably had a soul connection with someone out there. But that was fine he would never meet them anyway. Not that he even wanted to. Right now, he had other concerns.

Thanks to the Boss Dazai found himself in suribachi city to investigate the apparent return of the former boss. Multiple sources had claimed to have sighted him there. So, with nothing more than the claims of a few idiots Dazai and Hirotsu had made their way into the slums.

Even though the lead wasn’t really promising, Dazai had a feeling that this was somehow important for how the rest would play out.

As it turned out he wasn’t wrong. Not even five minutes after arriving, Dazai found himself slammed into a wall by the king of the sheep. How he was connected to this, Dazai wasn’t sure yet.

The king of the sheep, Nakahara Chuuya was a short fierce ginger with brute strength and great flexibility. His hands in the pockets of his worn-down leather jacket at all times during the fight.

Hirotsu put up a fight but wasn’t quite a match for the ginger it seemed.

To keep the situation from escalating any further Dazai put his hand on Nakahara’s bare neck, the second the ginger held still for long enough. Feeling his ability taking effect, almost unnoticeably shivering at the warmth that radiated from Nakahara.

Dazai always run cold. He wasn’t sure if he just had bad circulation or if his ability had a hand in it. Nakahara on the other hand was warm.

Apparently, the previous boss’ reappearance had something to do with Arahabaki. So, one inconvenience led to another and Dazai was stuck with the annoying ginger to solve the mystery.

He put in extra steps into their investigation, purely to annoy Chuuya. His reactions were just so entertaining. Much more entertaining than any of his classmates or men under his command.

At the arcade Chuuyas reactions had been one thing more to encourage him to piss of the sheep members that were present. A smug feeling spreading out inside him, when Chuuya told them they had to leave without him. Quickly he shot the feeling down, deciding to deal with it later.

---

“Hey.”, it was that annoying, cheating bastards voice. Chuuya hummed. They were trying to find a way to beat Rimbaud, with him against the twisted reality inside Rimbaud’s yellow cube and Dazai outside of it somehow still trapped with a scythe swinging previous mafia boss. As it turned out Rimbaud had been the one behind it. He was after him. No, actually, he was after Arahabaki.

“I say we kill them both, together.”, he said. As far as Chuuya could see Dazai had sustained some injuries, he himself wasn’t exactly much better off. He wondered how Dazai was expecting them to pull it off.

Chuuya was taken aback. “Huh? You mean you actually wanna live now?” Hadn’t he mere hours ago complained about surviving? He was really one weird contradiction that guy, wasn’t he.

It was probably Rimbaud underestimating them, that lead him to allow them to pause and converse for even a moment, before attacking them again. Or maybe Chuuyas attacks had been more effective than Rimbaud had let on.

“After all, without observing death up close, one can’t capture the full picture of what it means to live.”, he continued. And of course, he had to go around and spout some sentimental bull shit.

“Really? You, a suicidal maniac, actually wanna live? You serious?”, Chuuya mocked him. Ignoring the pain in his leg. Pushing away the thought of how Dazais chest must be feeling right now.

Dazai grinned as he spoke, the blood slowly seeping out of the gash across his chest. “I figure it’s worth giving a shot.”

Somehow through that exchange Chuuya got an idea of what he assumed to be Dazais plan to beat Rimbaud. He didn’t want to admit it, but they worked really well as a team.

Yelling, Chuuya threw himself at Dazai in the hopes of grabbing his hand, for him to get a chance to nullify Rimbaud’s ability between their hands.

In his dying moments Rimbaud spouted some shit about finally being warm. Chuuya felt only half satisfied with the amount of information he had gotten out of this whole thing. More he felt irritated by Dazai, and he was worried about the sheep.

Shirase and Yuan had not been very happy with him when they bumped into each other at the arcade. He was worried about their wellbeing, and he hoped that nothing further had happened to them while he had been away.

Chuuya found himself scarred to go back to their base, so he spent the night on a roof. He couldn’t call it sleeping, seeing as he never really managed to actually fall asleep.

Earlier when he had been touched by Dazai something weird had happened. The god inside him had shut his mouth for once and if it hadn’t been for the adrenaline that was coursing through his veins, he might have fallen asleep on Dazai.

He felt bad about not going back but he needed some time to himself to process everything that had happened that day. His inner turmoil won over his worry. That itself was weird, usually Chuuya would put the others first. He always put the others first, except for today it seemed. Now with the stars above him and the usual lack of sleep he had time to think.

He ended up going to the cemetery in the morning. Just sitting on Rimbaud’s gravestone. He wasn’t sure for how long he had been sitting there, alone with his thoughts, but it had to be quite some time because by the time Shirase had found him it was way past midday.

The betrayal of his friend hurt more than the poisoned blade he had been stabbed with. One moment he was talking to Shirase and the next he had been surrounded. The sheep had joined forces with the GSS, decided he was a traitor and given the order to kill him. Yuan had the audacity to look hurt by Chuuyas reaction and then proceeding to hide behind the GSS squat. Collapsing the ground to escape he had landed himself right in the claws of the mafia again.

Chuuya felt his eyes filling up with tears. He was angry. Angry at his friends, his family for thinking he had betrayed them, angry at the mafia for getting him into this situation, angry at Dazai who just had to be there and most of all he was mad at himself.

He really couldn’t get anyone to trust him enough to stay, no one cared about him. He thought that they would at least hear him out before deciding what to do. He had thought-

It doesn’t matter. It never mattered what Chuuya thought. No one cared, no one would ever care about what his reasons are or what he wanted to achieve. He would always end up being tossed to the side the moment he wasn’t of use anymore.

His mind hazy from grief and poison, he had accepted the offer to join. It had been more of an order really, but Chuuya was too drained to care.

Maybe it was the rat poison or his fall of the cliff or the blood loss, but in that moment Chuuya wanted nothing more than for Dazai to touch him, so that he could fall asleep. He didn’t even know if it actually worked but his dazed mind didn’t care.

Of course, nothing went the way Chuuya wanted. He was grabbed by some of the men and dumped in a car, driving off to the mafia headquarters.

He received medical attention by the weird boss and was placed under a young woman’s command. She was an executive and introduced herself as Kouyou.

When he finally saw Dazai, the younger wasn’t pleased by Chuuyas presence. He didn’t hesitate to throw insults at him. Chuuya relented of course, yelling back.

Kouyou wondered if it was smart to have them work under the same roof. Mori only smirked. He said something about how only a diamond could polish another diamond and whispered something into Kouyous ear.

Chuuya was too caught up yelling at Dazai to pay their interaction any mind. He should have, then he wouldn’t have been so surprised when he was informed of the partnership Mori had ordered between him and Dazai. He even had to go to school with that bandaged bastard.

---

Kyoko starred at the newcomer. It was a short ginger. He was bickering with Tsushima all the way into the classroom. Hirotsu-sensei only nodded at them and went on with the preparations for the lesson.

“Be a good dog and go sit in the front of the classroom.”, Tsushima sidestepped a kick from the ginger.

“I’m not your dog damn it! I bet you only do your work to be a bastard about it don’t you?”, the short boy accused him.

“Well, if Chuuya needs help, because his hat ate his brain, don’t come whining to me!”

“YOUUU-”, the ginger, Chuuya was cut off by Hirotsu-sensei telling them that the lesson would start soon.

This went on for months. They always fought. During lunchbreak Tsushima and Chuuya bickered all the way to the cafeteria. Still, they spent every moment of the school day together. They even arrived and left together.

Kyoko didn’t know why those two always stuck together when all they did was fight.

“You are going to eat lunch, you shitty mackerel.” Chuuya dragged Tsushima to one of the tables. Dumping him on a chair and pulling out two bentos, placing one in front of each of them. This was new. Normally Chuuya would try to eat while Tsushima would try to be extra annoying.

It had been real startling at first to see the quiet scary kid, be so loud and silly. After a few weeks though people had stopped being surprised and started being very annoyed. But no one dared to say anything.

Right now, though, Tsushima just took the bento Chuuya had placed in front of him. Silently he took of the lid and began to eat.

Kyoko observed them, wondering what had happened. It was obvious that they didn’t hate each other despite them always claiming to. What made the whole thing so surprising was the complete silence that eloped them now.

Upon closer inspection Dazai seemed a bit flushed. Maybe he was sick? But then why was he at school?

---

Ishikawa followed the string that connected their classmates with their eyes. Did they know they had a soul connection? At school they always bickered but still kept close to each other.

Once after a particularly rough mission Ishikawa had observed them at school. Dazai had gotten hurt and Chuuya had felt guilty and had taken care of him. To the unknowing eye it wouldn’t have seemed that way, but if one knew where to look it had been obvious. They didn’t have any details on the mission but the lack of protest on Dazais part had been enough to know that it hadn’t gone like he wanted it to.

At work their bickering was more... They were not sure how to describe it. It seemed they had their walls up in a different way than at school.

Ishikawa didn’t work close with them, they were a low subordinate only consulted when needing intel on relationships.

Dazai was an executive and more than capable to gather information by himself, only rarely coming around to get some intel. Chuuya was working under Koyo officially if Ishikawa was informed right, but he seemed to be more like Dazais right hand, or partner to be actually working for Kouyou. Ishikawa wasn’t sure, they were after all not very high up in the ranks.

More than once Ishikawa questioned their life decisions, that led them to where they are now. What if they hadn’t taken an interest in Dazai in their first week of high school, would they still have ended up in the mafia? Probably, Ishikawa knew once the mafia had set their sights on something they would obtain it.

If Dazai had intended for them to join, they would have joined sooner rather than later anyways.

Ishikawa stood before the desk, waiting to be dismissed by Dazai, but the waiting seemed to drag out. Dazai was too preoccupied, bickering with Chuuya to acknowledge them still standing there.

Ishikawa had met the demon prodigy on a few occasions now outside of school, they still shivered thinking about it. If they first thought, he was scary at the beginning of school then he was straight up terrifying at work. But right there with Chuuya by his side, always covering his blind spot, he seemed a bit more human.

---

The realization hit him like a truck, he couldn’t deny it any longer, he couldn’t deny the way Chuuya made him feel. Yeah, it was real. It was strong, stronger than anything he could remember feeling. It was a burning sensation all over his body every time they touched. It wasn’t a single emotion, it was all over the place.

Chuuya made him feel seen in the best and worst way possible. Dazai might even feel comfortable enough to-

His thoughts screeched to a halt. He had partially let down his walls in front of Chuuya before, he had shed the bandages over his eye, partially allowing him to see what was underneath. Would he let Chuuya see all of it? Did he trust Chuuya with that? Dazai didn’t know. Part of him wanted to, it yearned for the sense of security that Chuuya gave him, the other part screamed at him that Chuuya would use it against him and that such a thing as security doesn’t exist for someone like him.

Sure, Dazai had seen the way Ishikawa had been tracing invisible lines between the two of them, they had been doing it all the time. During school, in Dazais office a few weeks ago… but-

If Dazai wasn’t careful he would let his guard down around Chuuya. Something in him desperately wanted to. The thought sparked a little flame inside of him or maybe it had been there before, and he only noticed it now. He tried to stomp it out, to smother it until there was nothing left of it.

How could he face Chuuya with the knowledge he had now? Even if Chuuya was really easy to read and predict, Dazai had no idea how Chuuya would react to it. So, Dazai concluded, the easiest way to deal with this was make Chuuya hate him or avoid him until Dazai got a grip on himself.

It downed on him, he didn’t trust himself around Chuuya right now. Damn, was that how Odasaku felt around Ango? This was horrible. Dazai needed it to stop. How hadn’t he noticed before how soft he got around Chuuya?

The burning feeling of the small gingers hand around his. It wasn’t a new discovery that Chuuyas hands are bigger than his. It probably would have been something Chuuya would brag about, if it wasn’t for the unspoken agreement to never mention the soft touches between them.

This was something belonging only to them. Secret, sacred, easily shattered. It was as if they were afraid to break it if they mentioned it.

Dazai looked down on Chuuyas unconscious form as he began to stir.

Their previous mission had required for Chuuya to use corruption. There was no other option. Dazai always tried everything else first because Chuuya didn’t like using corruption, but this time nothing else had worked.

They had made it back to Chuuyas home. Well, Dazai had dragged an unconscious Chuuya into the car that came to pick them up and then from the car into his flat. Lately it felt more like their flat. As he had been spending less time in his shipping container and more at Chuuyas place.

In a moment of panic Dazai shuffled out of the bed, he checked if he had placed a glass of water next to Chuuyas bed, sighing in relief when he had and booked it out of there.

If he had turned around for just a second, he would have seen Chuuya waking up. He would have seen the way Chuuyas face twisted in hurt and confusion, but he didn’t.

For the following week Dazai kept his distance. Avoiding being alone with Chuuya as much as he could, not going over to Chuuyas flat after school or missions and generally just keeping him at armlength away from him.

It was as if he had put Chuuya back into the position of a stranger. A stranger with a flash of hurt in his eyes, Dazai had caught it when he hadn’t looked away fast enough.

The look of hurt didn’t suit Chuuya and yet he looked as beautiful as ever. Hurt was an old friend to Chuuya. Dazai hated to add to it. And he hated himself even more for it. He wanted to bash in everyone’s head that caused Chuuya to have that look on his face.

Dazai hated pain. Yet, he felt he deserved it. So, for the first time since meeting Chuuya he made use of that one particular blade he hid in his shipping container. The blade felt cold against his skin.

Damn it, why didn’t Dazai feel better after doing that? In fact, he felt shitty and his entire being just kept calling out for Chuuya. Yearning to be in his presence as if only he could bring Dazai peace. And maybe that was true in a way, but it was a contradiction as Chuuya was the cause for his current inner turmoil. It was free of all logic and Dazai hated it.

---

Chapter Text

“What’s that shitty Dazais deal? He talks to you lot, doesn’t he? You’ve got to know something.”, Chuuya stomped into the bar, startling Ango who hadn’t expected him. Oda on the other hand had been waiting for Chuuya to show up.

“What are you referring to?”, Ango questioned. Oda just sighed.

He had expected that from the moment he himself had realized just how all-consuming the other ginger had captured Dazais interest. Dazai himself hadn’t realized it at first, but Oda had, he had seen the change after the mission last week, where Dazai seemed to have gotten to a conclusion.

Oda didn’t know Dazai before he had met Chuuya, but he had a feeling, that the light that resided in Dazais eyes in some rare moments, found their source with this short angry ginger.

“That shitty mackerel has been avoiding me all week.”, he started and with every word he sounded more defeated. “And I don’t know what I did to make him leave.”

Oda wasn’t sure if he should put a hand on Chuuyas shoulder, so he let it be. “You didn’t do anything kid, for all the walls Dazai put up and for all he pretends not to care, he does care, about you that is. And I can’t speak on his behalf here, but I think he realized that too, and is scared, and you know that scared people tend to run or lash out.” Unsure of how to word it better he looked at Ango for help.

Sure, he wanted to become a writer, but coming up with what to say on the spot was not his forte, Ango was better suited for that, always the diplomat.

It was a fact that Chuuya wore his heart on his sleeve most of the time, but somehow Ango could never really read him, sure it wasn’t as easy as Dazai made it out to be, but it was still doable. He was however really good at reading Oda.

“What he means is, he thinks that Dazai doesn’t know how to act around you, because he realized how much he cares about you.”, Ango put it bluntly, earning himself an exasperated look from Oda.

They simultaneously decided that it was for their own good not to mention the way Chuuyas ears turned red as he lowered his head to stare at his suddenly very interesting shoes.

It was only then that Oda fully took in Chuuyas appearance. The ginger had his hair in a low ponytail, no hat and wore comfortable clothes, the hoodie seeming a few sizes too big on him. He seemed tired. Tired in a way Oda only had seen him before he and Dazai had gotten closer.

It was a rare occurrence that Chuuya or Dazai actually looked their age. Right now, Chuuya did look his age, maybe even younger. He seemed so vulnerable and childlike. But at the same time his eyes held so much sorrow. Too much for someone his age, perhaps too much for a single lifetime.

Looking everywhere but at Oda, Chuuya stepped from one foot onto the other, accidentally undoing one of the shoelaces of his well-worn converse.

No one said anything, so after a few moments Chuuya turned on his heel and went to leave. He stumbled over his open shoelace and almost fell on his face. He caught himself in the last second. Oda and Ango remained silent.

---

The wind blew and made the shipping container howl. It’s not that Dazai was afraid of storms, but he remembered the last one, the one he spent at Chuuyas place. It had been so comfortable. Cuddling up with Chuuya on the couch, a mountain of blankets piled up on top of them. They had played games at first and eventually it turned into a movie marathon. Chuuya had fallen asleep on him sometime during that night.

There was a banging noise, that ripped him out of his thoughts. Had the storm already gotten that bad? He slumped deeper into his futon. The banging continued, it was to even for it to be the weather. Groaning he got up, grateful that he had thought to rewrap his arms yesterday. He didn’t want to see who it was, because he was almost certain that it was Chuuya.

He opened the entrance and was almost thrown back by the strong gust of wind that blew against him. And before him stood Chuuya, wearing one of Dazais hoodies and glowing red due to the use of his ability. Chuuya didn’t say a word when grabbed Dazai by the collar of his own hoodie and dragged him with him.

For once Dazai just shut his mouth instead of making a sly comment. Instead concentrating on not canceling out Chuuyas ability. Chuuya was carefully only holding onto Dazais hoodie and not Dazai himself. So, he could use his ability to remain standing, Dazai was struggling against the wind.

---

With the confirmation that Dazai wasn’t actually mad at him, he made his way to the shipping container. The wind had picked up, so Chuuya hurried. He was tired.

Dragging Dazai out of his shipping container hadn’t been hard. Thanks to him for once not being a nuisance Chuuya could even use his ability to steady himself against the wind.

Dazai had been uncharacteristically quiet the whole time Chuuya dragged him. Even as they arrived, Dazai didn’t say a word and he avoided eye contact. Thankfully they had made it home before it began pouring down rain.

Chuuya dumped Dazai on the couch and flopped down next to him. Spreading out a blanket over the two of them. Dazai froze at Chuuyas closeness, shivering.

Turning on the TV playing some action flick on a low volume. About half an hour in Chuuya decided to finally speak up. “You know it’s okay to care about someone.”

He wasn’t sure how Dazai would react, but he had to risk it. This couldn’t continue like this. He had to say something or else he would explode. And as soon as it would impact their work Mori would get himself involved and Chuuya didn’t want that for either of them because the consequences wouldn’t be pretty.

Dazai had tensed once more. Chuuya turned fully to face him. Taking in Dazais appearance for the first time today, really looking at him. He looked unusually disheveled. Not unlike Chuuya himself. His hair messier than usual and his bandages wonky and wrinkly. The ones around his eye almost slipping down.

Now Chuuya had seen Dazai without those before, but he felt that Dazai didn’t want him to see now. And shit he should just have kept his mouth shut. Now he had done it. Now he had shattered it.

They could never go back to the late nights where Chuuya had leaned on Dazai. One of Dazais hands on Chuuyas arm. They could never go back to sleeping in the same bed together. To Chuuyas luck the younger had a habit of clinging to him like an octopus. The chances of their skin touching were high and the opportunity for Chuuya to get some sleep was almost granted. Sometimes he even found it sad to be unconscious, while the two of them shared affection.

Now, the carefully built walls that sheltered those nights had been torn down. Completely demolished.

Before Chuuya could do anything, Dazais bandages fully slipped down, revealing his eye as he scrambled to the other end of the couch almost falling off it. Eyes wide. Chuuya wasn’t sure how to react to that. Not wanting Dazai to get a wrong impression. So, he remained still.

Oda referred to them as stray dogs sometimes, but Chuuya always thought that Dazai had more resemblance to a stray cat.

Chuuya knew Dazai had a great need for things to be in his control. This should make them a bad team as Chuuya also always tried to keep control of everything he could.

Control. Everyone fought for it, and someone had to come out on top. Dazai obsessively had a strong grip on it. Chuuya desperately clawed at it to keep it.

He hated not being in control and he knew Dazai did too. And maybe it was because of that, that they learned to read each other to know when it was important to sacrifice their own comfort for the other. Of course, neither of them would admit to it. It would show weakness and they couldn’t allow that. Or could they?

In this moment though Chuuya didn’t mind letting Dazai take control, if it meant for the other to open up. Chuuya knew it would have to happen on Dazais own terms, but if things were to go Dazais way, nothing would be said. So, Chuuya had made a start, an offering and now he had to hope Dazai would take it.

After a few moments of silence Dazai finally spoke up. “You know what Ishikawa’s ability is, right?” He rolled up the bandages that had slipped off his face. Busying his hands, he rolled them up and unraveled them, then rolled them up again.

He was not sure what that had to do with anything but nodded nonetheless, trying not to stare at the unraveled bandages.

“Have you noticed their habit of following the strings that connect people with their eyes?”

Chuuya nodded again. Slowly this time. He had noticed. He had noticed them doing it between Dazai and himself. Oh. Oh shit.

It was like Oda and Ango had said. Dazai was afraid. He was fiddling with his bandages, and it was then that Chuuya realized that Dazai had been showing him so much vulnerability, by taking them of and allowing Chuuya to see both his eyes.

And Chuuya knew it wasn’t the best approach the moment he said it, but he still did. “Did you know that I can only sleep with you by my side?” Maybe he wanted to show vulnerability too.

Dazai flinched. Discarding the loose bandages, he rubbed his forearm. Chuuya followed the movement with his eyes and noticed the red spots that formed on Dazais arm. Blood. There was blood seeping through the bandages. Chuuya knew for a fact that Dazai hadn’t gotten hurt on their last missions, or had he? No, these wounds must have been self-inflicted.

Chuuya cursed under his breath. That must have been the last straw for Dazai, because the next thing he did caught Chuuya of guard. He started to cry.

Not just crying, full on sobbing. His breathing was ragged and unsteady as he frantically chocked out apologies. He was shaking.

Chuuya didn’t know what to say or do.

Hesitantly he reached out to Dazai. Unsure how to comfort him. Dazai sensing his movement curled more onto himself. “Hey, hey, it’s okay you didn’t know. We should have communicated better. It’s not your fault.”, Chuuyas voice just over a whisper.

Chuuyas hand hovered near Dazais, not quite daring to touch the other. There was a chance that it would help ground him, but there was also the chance that it would make things worse for him.

After a few seconds Chuuya decided to take the risk. It looked as though Dazai was well on the way to suffocate himself with his knees, if Chuuya wouldn’t interfere.

The moment Chuuya touched Dazai, the younger collapsed into his arms like a house of cards in the wind. Sobs shook his body. Chuuya ignored the wet feeling Dazais tears left on his hoodie. He just sat there, gently swaying, with his arms wrapped around Dazai securely. The position was a bit awkward due to their height difference, but Chuuya ignored it.

After quite some time Dazai had calmed down enough to breathe. Another few minutes later Chuuya had managed to convince him to go to the bathroom with him to sort out Dazais injury.

Chuuya situated Dazai on the edge of the bathtub. Then he rummaged through his cabinet and pulled out his medical kit. He turned to face Dazai. “Do you want me to leave the bathroom, while you clean the cuts, or do you want me to do it for you?”

Dazai looked conflicted. He sat there, the occasional tear still running down his face, eyes red from crying, his lips quivering.

Then he started undoing the bandages around his arms, both of them. He still hadn’t said a word. He didn’t tell him to get out. He just started unraveling in front of Chuuya. So, Chuuya stood there not daring to move. When he finished, he held out his arms to Chuuya. He had his head down, not meeting Chuuyas eyes.

For a moment Dazais arms just hovered in the space between them. With shaky hands Chuuya reached out to clean the cuts on Dazais left arm. Then inspecting the right one for wounds in need of attention too. A bit relieved when he came up empty.

Dazai had many scars on both his arms. The ones on the left arm were fresh, they had been reopened just now. Some from missions and some were self-inflicted, some old and some looked new. Chuuyas eyes stung with tears, but he pushed the guilt away. Guilt did not help Dazai. So, he concentrated himself on the task at hand. He rewrapped Dazais left arm carefully, with slow unpracticed movements.

His hands hovered over Dazais right arm. He looked up and was meet with Dazais eyes. “Shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to-”

“You can touch them, they don’t hurt anymore.”, Dazais voice was raspy and breathless.

And so, Chuuya did. He gently traced the pattern of scars that was drawn all over Dazais arm. He quickly silenced the voice in his head that told him to kiss the scars. That would cross the line. They weren’t there yet. Maybe they’d never get there and that was fine. Chuuya would take all that Dazai was willing to give him.

“Do you want me to wrap this one too?”, he asked after a while. Dazai shook his head.

For a moment neither of them moved. They just stared at each other. Chuuya mapped out Dazais facial features in his mind. He felt honored that he was allowed to see Dazai like this. Even if it hurt. He would gladly share Dazais burden if he was willing to share it with Chuuya.

“Let’s go to bed.”, Chuuya proposed. Dazai nodded.

They got ready for bed. While brushing their teeth Dazai leaned against Chuuya. They crawled into Chuuyas bed. There was no need to pretend anymore, so they cuddled up to each other.

Chuuya ran his hand through Dazais hair. Dazai leaned into his touch, not unlike a cat, Chuuya mused.

“You know we still need to talk about this.”, he said into the silence. Dazai buried his face in the crook of Chuuyas neck. “Tomorrow.”, he mumbled, the movement of his lips tickling Chuuyas neck.

“Yeah tomorrow. Goodnight Osamu.”

There were still things that needed to be sorted out. Not everything was fine, certain topics needed to be discussed. The world was a gruesome place, trauma and mental illness wasn’t going to go away overnight. Healing was a process, a long journey, one they were on together.

So, nothing was perfect or permanently fixed, but the storm inside the flat had calmed, the one outside continued to rage but the two boys fell asleep peacefully, protected in their own little bubble. They had each other, that was all they needed after all.

---

Kyoko was bored. Tsushima and Chuuya were absent. Sure, since Chuuya had transferred to their class Tsushima hadn’t been as passive as he was before, but he still disinterestedly finished all his worksheets in record time. Kyoko still tried to beat him to it.

So, today was boring. She didn’t have to hurry up to try and finish before Tsushima started to throw paper planes at the back of Chuuyas head. Which either resulted in Chuuya throwing them back or him yelling. Most of the time both. After about two planes Hirotsu-sensei would always interrupt them.

Now that she thought about it, they hadn’t been doing that for all of last week. Tsushima had been quieter, and it almost seemed like he was avoiding Chuuya.

Before she could think about it any further the door opened. Tsushima and Chuuya came in. They ventured to the back of the classroom and Tsushima said something to Ishikawa. It wasn’t loud enough for Kyoko to understand, but Ishikawa nodded and grabbed their stuff. They situated themselves in the free seat in the first row, they didn’t seem happy about it but they didn’t complain.

Tsushima and Chuuya took the now free space and sat down. They sat close. Closer than usually at lunch. And the more peculiar thing about it was that it happened in complete silence.

Something had clicked into place since she had last seen them. It was as if the tension between them had been resolved. No that wasn’t correct, but something about it had shifted.

Tsushimas hand wandered into Chuuyas, like it belonged there and Chuuya didn’t remove it, so maybe it did.