Archive of Our Own ^beta

The boy sitting on the sofa is dwarfed by its size. He’s small, with ragged clothing and auburn hair that glints in the sun. His eyes are an azure blue, bright against the sunken, haggard face.

Atsushi recognizes another runaway when he sees one.

“Please, help me find my siblings.”

The words are delivered in a blunt monotone, at complete odds with his small stature. Atsushi sneaks a glance down at his mentor to his left, seated diagonally across from the boy. His hair covers his face, but Atsushi can still see his hands.

Those hands are trembling.

There’s something about this boy that unsettles Dazai, and that’s more alarming than anything else. It’s Dazai. Dazai, who smiles at gun barrels and death threats, who spins circles around the likes of Port Mafia and the Guild and takes torture like he does cake in the mornings. Dazai doesn’t simply get unsettled by anything.

The moment the boy had stepped into the office this morning, he’d seen his mentor’s eyes widen, freezing midway between some new rant about suicide. He’d never seen that many emotions run through Dazai’s eyes before, never heard as much shock and confusion as he did that morning in Dazai’s soft voice, inaudible if it wasn’t for the tiger’s heightened senses.

“…Odasa…?”

It was enough of an event that Kunikida had taken noticed, had walked over and shook his partner’s shoulder with an “Oi Dazai, what’s wrong?” that had snapped his mentor out of his stupor. Enough for Dazai to pull up a smile that convinced, oh, no one.

Tanizaki led the boy to the client-designated sofa, and it didn’t surprise anyone when Kunikida and Dazai sat down in front of him. The entire agency had basically stopped working to listen in, and weirdly, Dazai hadn’t seemed to notice, eyes glued to the boy the entire time.

“Kid,” Kunikida starts, looking somewhere between constipated and regretful. He keeps glancing between Dazai and the boy, Atsushi notes with a start— Dazai’s smile is missing again. Brown eyes catch Kunikida’s and crinkle a bit, as if the muscles aren’t working with him before Dazai lifts his teacup up and takes a sip. Is he trying to hide his inability to grin— “I’m sorry, but the agency doesn’t take up these cases. You’ll be better off going to the police.”

“I’ve got an ability, it’s called Flawless.” Dazai chokes into his tea. Atsushi’s hands are up and flitting over his mentor before he can think, and they hesitate over the other’s back, remembering how Dazai always stiffens for a millisecond when he’s touched. He ends up leaving his hands awkwardly in the air as Dazai waves him off, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Went down the wrong pipe, go on?” Dazai’s smile is back. It looks a little strained.

The boy stares at him, mild worry climbing into his face and Atsushi wonders how he’s taking all this. Dazai is acting very, very strange. More so than usual. “I’m not very sure what it does, but when I almost got shot”— and all three of them sit straight up at that— “I saw it happen in my head before it happened, so I dodged it.”

“A precognition ability. Useful.” Dazai nods. He sounds fine, calm.

Atsushi has heard Dazai sound fine and calm while holding an inch-long stab wound close with his fingertips. It's not reassuring in the least.

“So if you find my siblings, I’ll join your agency and help you guys.” His voice is so blunt, it creates the effect of sounding like an adult despite being seven. Atsushi would have liked to have that much confidence when he was seven. Maybe he wouldn’t have been stuck in a cage then.

"Kid--"

"Please." And this time, he could hear a hint of desperation creep into the child's voice. "The kidnapper is an ability user. The police doesn't care about orphans."

Silence followed his words. Atsushi feels like he'd been thrown back into the past, forcibly reminded of how the orphanage dealt with missing orphans.

This boy was taking care of five other kids, none of whom were related to him. The orphanage wasn’t a kind one for sure.

“Maa maa, Kunikida-kun, we don’t have any cases now, why not just help him out? Call it civil service, hm?” Dazai cut in, playing with a strand of hair and looking almost nonchalant. Almost. “Agency helps orphan find his siblings' sounds good on paper, and we are a commercialized business.”

“Yes, but well—” Kunikida bit his own words off, eyes shifting between Dazai and the boy's. Whatever he read in his partner’s eyes must have changed his stance, because he sighed instead of rejecting it outright.

"Fine, we’ll take it up. Let’s do this efficiently, never know what Port Mafia is up to."

"Okay~" Dazai drawled out, and Kunikida looked this close to whacking him on the head.

"Um, sorry, we didn't catch your name?" Atsushi asked the boy, in the lull before the ensuing fight between Dazai and Kunikida.

"Oda Shunsuke."

He'd never seen Dazai look so simultaneously stricken and exasperated in his life.

*

The one who has the kids is part of a little trafficking ring that’s popped up a few months ago. It’s a budding business, growing slowly on his mentor’s own little information radar— Dazai had off-handily mentioned that “the mafia or the police would have stomped it out for us.”

Atsushi had been watching Dazai for the past two days, and though he wasn't the most observant, (He keeps thinking people think badly of him, he’s working on it.) he is a detective. For all that his ability has made him a front-line fighter, he’s also spent the past three years beside one of Yokohama’s most devious. Atsushi likes to think he knows Dazai a little better than most.

It’s all led him to one simple conclusion: Dazai was avoiding Shunsuke.

The boy had been sticking around the office, even dorming with Atsushi and Kyouka for the past two nights, yet the office seemed to have a Dazai-sized hole two times more than usual. Atsushi was sure the boy had noticed; Shunsuke was the silent observant type, never quite smiling and completely unfazed by the agency’s shenanigans. He’d barely twitched an eyebrow at one of Ranpo’s loud candy rants and Kunikida’s yelling.

Which was another odd thing. Dazai had (mostly) not been the source of the office’s shenanigans the past few days.

Atsushi sneaked a peek at Shunsuke, in the new clothes he and Kyouka had bought, seated in a chair with his nose in a book. Shunsuke blinked, eyes slowly flickering up and over the page to catch brown hair at one of the desks.

He was looking at Dazai again.

Atsushi had noticed that too. Shunsuke kept looking at Dazai, nevermind the fact that the latter had never once spoken to the boy despite vouching for him. (Which was a whole other thing to puzzle over.) Shunsuke kept looking at him when he walked out or came in, joining him at the pantry during the rare instances both were in the office although they never spoke, peeking at him over books, like he was doing now.

Shunsuke’s mouth dipped minutely into a frown, lines forming between his eyebrows. It kinda resembled Kyouka when she was trying to remember something, face almost blank except the slight hints of emotion running through her eyes.

Is he trying to remember Dazai-san? Do they know each other?

Dazai’s own eyes were glued resolutely to his laptop screen— actually doing his work— and not meeting Shunsuke’s gaze. Atsushi would have labelled it ignorance if he didn’t know better.

Shunsuke’s face suddenly hardened, mouth pressing into a determined line. He stood up, left the novel on the chair and strode over to Dazai’s desk with the purpose of an adult.

The agency seemed to quiet down, and Atsushi was suddenly very aware that everyone was watching. Seemed like he wasn’t the only one to notice Dazai’s recent extra weirdness.

“Dazai-san, right?”

Dazai twitched. (Since when does mentor twitch?) A smile drew itself across his lips. “Yes?”

Shunsuke stared up at him, blue eyes narrowed in concentration. Dazai matched the stare with that infallible smile, and the boy slumped a little, hand coming up to scratch at the back of his neck, eyes flickering away once and back.

“Have I… met you before? You seem familiar.”

The smile on his mentor’s lips seemed strangely frozen. “Met you before? Hm…no, don’t think so. Besides, if you’ve met me, you wouldn’t forget you know, I’m so charming after all!” Dazai framed his face with both hands, leaning slightly forward with elbows on the table.

Shunsuke raised an eyebrow, “I don’t believe you.”

“Ehhhh, we just met! How could you be so cruel not to believe me~” Dazai singed, falling backwards into his chair like he’d just been shot. Shunsuke reacted to it… by not reacting to it.

…Atsushi really wanted to applaud the kid.

Dazai continued to make an assortment of dying noises— with full arm motions to boot— Shunsuke pursed his lips, like he was contemplating his words.

“Are you sure we haven’t met?”

Dazai blinked and propped himself up on an elbow. The silence stretched, the clock on the office wall ticked away. Atsushi was expecting a witty reply, some kind of long Dazai-typical talk about suicide and handsomeness.

But Dazai didn’t do that.

Instead, he’d smiled, and the corner of his lips trembled. Atsushi would have never seen it without the tiger’s eyes. His voice was soft, subdued, and oddly honest.

“No, Shunsuke-kun. We’ve never met.”

*

“They’ve met before. They’ve definitely met before.” Naomi said.

Atsushi doesn’t approve of talking about Dazai behind his back, but somehow he’s been dragged into an impromptu meeting to do exactly that. He’s standing between Kyouka and Kenji, with Tanizaki and Naomi forming the end of their little circle. There’s little left to be done on the case. They’ve found the culprit, they know the location. The only thing they’re waiting for now is timing— in two hours they would be heading off.

Atsushi thinks they’ll be okay. Years ago when he first joined he would be worrying out of his mind and running around in circles trying to figure out anything he should know, what he should bring or what he should do. Three years on and nothing really holds a candle against their old enemies.

“Yes, they have.” Kyouka nods. She’s taller now, standing almost at his height and still wearing a flowing kimono. “Dazai-san is avoiding him.”

“I wouldn’t say met before… but well, maybe they know each other somehow?” Atsushi bites his lip, aware the sentence doesn’t make sense. How could they know each other if they’ve never met?

Unbidden, he thinks of a cemetery at the port, and his mentor’s lopsided smile as he rested his head on a gravestone.

Why is he thinking of that?

Naomi and Tanizaki exchange glances, “Hey hey, who do you think Shunsuke-kun is?”

“I, uh, I wouldn’t know.” Atsushi shrugs.

“He could have killed Shunsuke’s parents in the mafia.” Kyouka’s words makes them shiver. It’s a possibility that lingers in the back of their minds.

“Maybe they met in a dream?” Kenji’s smile is so winning, none of them refute him.

“What if it’s something scandalous, maybe it’s his…his lost child?” Naomi’s eyes widened at her own words.

 “…N-No way…” Atsushi laughed nervously. “They don’t look anything alike!”

 “Maybe Shunsuke-kun looks like his mother?”

“But, Dazai-san wouldn’t…”

“Dazai-san flirts with everyone.” Kyouka’s voice was matter-of-fact. “I wouldn’t be surprised.” Half the group’s shoulders droop at that.

“Eh? What do you all mean?” Their local farm-boy stared at them in confusion. The three of them froze, and Kyouka simply patted his head. Nevermind the fact that Kenji now towered over her at seventeen years old.

“City-folk stuff, Kenji-kun.” She pushed the issue aside, and Kenji 'ooooh' in comprehension.

They take turns throwing out more theories, it goes from ‘random person he saw across the street’ to ‘some mafia guy’s son’. None of them are particularly convincing. The more they talk, the more Atsushi feels like he’s missing something big.

“Hey.” Tanizaki and Atsushi both jump— who just sneaked up on them— while Kyouka gives the speaker a blank stare. Blue eyes greet them, “why can’t we leave sooner?”

“Ah, well. Sunset is better. We can use the shadows, and the cover of night to sneak in and get the kids out first before we deal with the traffickers.”

Shunsuke blinked at them, “oh, okay”. The boy checks the time, nodding to himself in that strangely adult way, and tilts his head at them.

“You’ve all worked with Dazai-san for a long time right? You know him well?”

It’s Kyouka who replies, “Better than most.”

“Could you… tell me what he’s like?”

They cast glances at each other. Atsushi looks back down at auburn hair to find some mixture of pain and longing in blue. He’s seen that look before, it’s the one he sees in the eyes of people who have lost their families, in the way someone smiles when talking about their old best friend, or a missing younger brother. The emotions barely last a second, but it’s enough for Atsushi to make a decision.

He kneels down, then decides it’s easier to just sit on the ground, the rest of the group follow suit. Kunikida eyes their little circle from his desk disapprovingly but doesn’t say a word.

“Dazai-san is…weird.” Atsushi starts, and Shunsuke’s lips lift slightly. “When I first met him, I had to save him from drowning himself in a river.”

There’s a collective sigh, Shunsuke nods understandingly in response.

“He’s kind of obsessed with suicide, it’s his, um, hobby. Sort of. He likes to try weird methods. He’s kind of dramatic too, and he likes to annoy Kunikida-san. He usually lazes around the office, and he never does his paperwork or he shoves it to me. And he’s always flirting with ladies to go and do a double suicide with him. He talks a lot, but never really about himself and he’s always kind of closed-off.”

Atsushi lets the exasperated look on his face fade, a fond smile replacing it instead. “But he’s kind. Ever since we met he’s been helping me or giving me advice. I'm a pretty nervous person you see, but he’s always encouraging me, pushing me to do new things and be more confident.”

“He was… the first person who ever acknowledged me, who lifted a hand and helped me out. I, um, I was from an orphanage too, and I was kicked out. I’ve always believed myself useless, and I’m pretty sure I would have died eventually if I hadn’t met him that day.”

Atsushi let his smile grow into a small, embarrassed grin. “Maybe it’s a little dramatic, but he saved me really.”

Naomi and Tanizaki both have open, kind-hearted smiles, and Kyouka tucks herself a little more into his side. Kenji gives him a side hug. Shunsuke’s own eyes are wide, filled with fondness and a rugged kind of smile himself.

“He’s really smart too, Dazai-san that is.” Tanizaki adds in. “He acts silly all the time, but he can predict people so well that he can literally plan weeks or months in advance. I think he’s saved all of us more than once with his plans.”

“He can be scary and he has the ability to be cruel.” Kyouka speaks softly, but it’s not in a tone that sounds bad. “But he can help just as much as he can be cruel. I was not in a good place before, he helped me get here.”

“Yeah! He’ll help bandage my arms if I get hurt too!” Kenji laughed.

Shunsuke’s smile is fond, and his hands fold in on themselves, resting on his knees. “He seems like a good man.”

Atsushi’s pretty sure his own face reflects Shunsuke’s. “Yeah, he really is.”

*

Kunikida let out a sigh, “For the last time, no.”

The kid insists on coming with them, and no matter what Kunikida says, the brat refuses to back down. "My siblings don't just trust any adult, and my ability will keep me out of danger.” Shunsuke argued. “I'm not going to be a liability."

Kunikida resisted the urge to rub the space between his eyebrows. Atsushi’s little circle was looking at them, and Yosano was smirking a little at him. Idiots, they should be helping him stop a civilian from joining them on a mission, not watching it like some half-baked spectacle. “Kid, I already told you. This is a real combat situation, I cannot allow a civilian with no experience in, you will get hurt."

“My brothers and sisters are already hurt. If I go, they'll follow you immediately and you'll save time, because they recognise me. They won't just follow anyone."

That… implied a lot about the orphanage. Kunikida made a mental note to write it down in his notebook for further investigation. Still he kept his face stone. He wasn’t letting some brat with no combat experience into a mission, ability or no.

Shunsuke’s eyes narrowed. His head swung down, almost like he was conceding, Kunikida had a second to feel a little relieved until the boy turned away and headed towards…Dazai?

He had noticed, in the past few days. That his infuriating partner had not in fact been infuriating. No, he'd been productive, actually sitting down at his desk rather than singing that terrible suicide song or throwing paper airplanes at him. He still went missing, only to come back with more information than they knew what to do with. Kunikida didn’t know where the information came from, frankly, he didn’t think he wanted to.

It said a lot about how much Dazai cared about this case. Which brought out a hundred other questions, the main one being what was this kid to Dazai anyway?

Dazai looked up from his papers when Shunsuke approached, an unreadable expression on his face as blue eyes stopped in front of him.

"Dazai-san. Please let me go."

"Unfortunately, I'm not the one in charge of who gets to go on missions, if Kunikida-kun says no, I can't really do much." Dazai waved a hand lazily in the air.

"I'll go anyway. Either I go alone and you guys can't protect me, or I go with you and you can at least try to."

“Shunsuke-kun—”

“They’re the only thing I have.” Shunsuke interrupted, fists balling, “If you won’t let me, I’ll go by myself. I have to get them back, even if I have to die to do it—”

“No.”

Kunikida felt the hairs on his neck raise at the tone. Sharp as steel, and as icy cold as a pistol’s barrel aimed at your temple, Dazai’s eyes were fixed into a glare Kunikida has seen make hardened serial killers and torturers balk. The kid stiffens, and he caught several of the agency members flinching at the sight.

What the hell was the bandage-wasting device doing levelling that on a kid—

Something changed then, some unidentifiable emotion that ran between Shunsuke and Dazai. The kid’s tense shoulders relaxed, and was that…understanding? Passing through his eyes. Kunikida couldn’t decide if the kid was brave or stupid when he stepped forward in the face of that glare.

“I won’t die, if you’re there to protect me.”

Dazai’s glare broke, the hard edge dropping and something… pained past through his face. It was one of the most open things Kunikida had seen in all the years he’d known Dazai. He looked away, like he couldn’t meet the gaze of a boy nearly twenty years his junior.

“You’re still so stubborn.” He whispered. It was so soft Kunikida had to strain to hear it, and only managed to because he was a desk away from them.

“I’m going.” Shunsuke said, no victory in his voice, but determined resolution.

“No, you’re not—” Kunikida said automatically, only for Dazai to interrupt, “Give it up, Kunikida-kun. He’s a stupid kid, won’t listen to anyone once he puts his mind to it.”

…Which was true. If the brat could handle that glare, Kunikida would bet his notebook he would somehow escape and go after his siblings even if they locked him inside the agency.

“I’m not stupid, I’m determined.”

“You’re stupid.” Dazai sighed, turning to face Shunsuke fully. “I thought I was the only suicidal one here, are you trying to upstage me?”

“No.”

“Mmm, are you sure? Well if you aren’t Shunsuke-kun, do me a favour and stay behind the frontlines would you? Or else I’ll tie you to a pole and not let you go.” For all the nonsense in those words, Dazai’s voice was serious.

“I can get out of those.”

“You won’t be able to get out of mine. I am a suicidal maniac you know! Ropes are my forte~”

Shunsuke gave him a long stare, “okay.”

Dazai pouted, “Don’t believe me?”

“No.” Deadpan. Kunikida really did rub his temples this time, the tension in the room finally disappearing in the wake of Dazai trying to convince a seven-year-old that he was the master of tying knots.

Sometimes, he had to wonder if those forged documents of Dazai’s were wrong and he was dealing with a twelve-year-old. Would explain a lot actually.

*

Someone up there must hate him.

That was nothing new. Granted, he’d done enough to warrant the hate. His resume was a black-and-red marked history of murder, fraud and torture. More than enough to send him to all the hells that exist, if they did exist.

Still, of all the kinds of retributions and punishments he could have gotten, he’d really hadn’t considered this to be possible.

Blue eyes blinked up at him from beneath auburn hair, and Dazai tried not to twitch. It worked well enough, just so that he managed a half-hearted smile and turned his gaze right back to the window.

He could feel those eyes staring back at him. Exactly the same as seven years ago, still as piercing and clear as they were back then.

He had no doubt. The kid sitting in the middle seat of the car— right next to him— was Oda Sakunosuke.

Someone up there must really hate him.

Dazai knew for a fact Odasaku didn’t have a son, nor a wife. Never went for one-night flings either, the man had never been one for that. So that left only one option.

Reincarnation.

Dazai wanted to spit. If that’s what happens after death, there really was nothing left in the universe for him.

“We’re here.” Kunikida broke into the silence as the car rolled to a stop. Oh we are? Dazai thought, suddenly aware he hadn’t said a word throughout the ride, not even his usual spire at Kunikida. Something inside him shivered.

A weakness. You’ve shown a weakness. It said.

He felt his teeth bite into each other involuntarily and stepped out of the car a little too fast. Shunsuke followed him, still too small for his legs to touch the ground, he tripped when he hit the floor. Without thinking, he’d grabbed the boy’s arm and hauled him up to his feet.

“Thanks.” Shunsuke said. Dazai nodded stiffly in response.

“Let’s go over the plan again.” Kunikida said, reliable as always. Dazai allowed himself to sink into the routine: Kunikida barked out orders, Atsushi and Tanizaki nodded frantically, Kenji did so less frantically, and he just smiled.

“To recap, Kenji and I shall act as distractions. We will storm the front and draw attention to ourselves. Meanwhile, Atsushi, you and Tanizaki take the back and find the kids, get them out using your speed and illusions. Dazai and the kid follow them, but as support, and only support, got it?” Kunikida dropped a harsh glare on Shunsuke.

His partner nodded at the boy’s curt ‘Got it.”, and looked up, catching Dazai’s eyes. He hesitated, looking like he wanted to say more. It occurred to Dazai that the pairing really was off; Tanizaki and Atsushi were more than enough to find the missing children and protect Shunsuke.

Weakness.

His nails bit into the palm of his hand. This was hardly the time. Kunikida may have purposely paired him off with Shunsuke, maybe because Dazai hadn’t been acting right at all the past few days, maybe he was showing weakness.

For Odasaku? For the one person that had saved him?

So be it.

Kunikida brought a hand up to clap his shoulder, just once, without words. Dazai felt his smile turn slightly puzzled, and Kunikida just sighed.

“Get going, idiot, it’ll be fine.”

…Ah right. The light didn’t do that to someone showing weakness.

Dazai felt some odd knot in his chest as he nodded, shifting on his heel to follow Atsushi and the rest. Oda— Shunsuke was watching him with those eyes again. Those knowing, piercing eyes.

He nearly gave himself whiplash looking away.

*

He could hear Kunikida-san and Kenji-san making their distraction. It sounded like something in-between a thunderstorm and an earthquake. Whatever they were doing, it was getting the job done: there were almost no guards left in the rest of the compound.

Shunsuke wished he had a gun, his hands clenching around air as he slunk in behind Dazai-san. The tall, brown haired man covered in bandages pulled him back behind him and Shunsuke let him. Dazai-san was weird, everything about him was weird. Even weirder was that Shunsuke trusted him,

Shunsuke had never felt any actual trust towards adults. Seven years in the orphanage had made sure of that.

There was something oddly familiar about him. Something about the dark brown eyes, the messy wavy hair, like he’d seen it somewhere in his dreams. The neat bandages wound around his arms made Shunsuke’s chest ache with nostalgia and concern.

It was the reason why he couldn’t bring himself to be scared by that glare, the one Dazai-san had levelled on him, the one that spoke volumes of what kind of person he was, told him precisely what he would see under those bandages. Startled, yes, but that look only served to remind him that Dazai-san wasn’t really trying to scare him.

No, it was more like Dazai-san was trying to protect him.

The thought had been more than enough for Shunsuke to step forward in the face of that glare and tell him, in no uncertain terms, that he knew Dazai-san would protect him.

Atsushi-san and Tanizaki-san were running forward in front of them, checking the corners and making sure no one was around. The ones that were? They were very quickly introduced to Atsushi-san’s (non-lethal) claws.

By the fourth room, Shunsuke was getting angsty, by the sixth, he was clenching his shirt, trying not to hiss. By the tenth, he was starting to doubt they were even in the compound in the first place. Where were they?

They stopped at another corner, and Dazai-san held a hand out, motioning him back to the wall. Shunsuke followed the silent order, then blinked when he realized what he was doing.

Why did it feel like he’d done this before?

Atsushi-san gave the all-clear, and carefully tugged at the handle of the next door. He frowned when it didn’t so much as budge, and Dazai-san moved in with a hairpin plucked from somewhere in his bandages, jigging the metal until a ‘click’ sounded.

The door slowly swung open, in the centre of a barren room, with next to no light, five children sat in a rough circle, bound by rope and gagged.

“Guys!” He nearly let out a sob in relief, running forward quickly and tugging at the ropes. He barely registered Dazai-san following his footsteps. They gave muffled shouts in response. Thank god, thank the gods they were alive…He’d thought for sure— It’d been like last time, when all he’d seen was their faces in a van, far, far away, red staining the window, and nothing but his own screaming in his ears left for him—

…like last time?

Shunsuke’s fingers froze on the rope. Like last time? What did that mean—

The shot was like an explosion, it hit his ears first, and then rammed him through the stomach. In slow motion, he could see Sakura’s eyes widening in shock—

Flawless!

Shit— If he moved, Sakura would be hit— He couldn’t—

“Odasaku, get down!”

He obeyed immediately, dropped at his knees and snapped into a hasty embrace around Sakura. Don’t hit her—don’t hit them, hit me— A shot ran through the air, but his stomach didn’t feel like a truck had slammed into it.

His head swivelled when he recognized the ragged breathing.

Dazai had his arms out, facing away from him, he was on one knee and trembling, just barely. He coughed, it sounded wet. Something splattered onto the ground in front of him.

Atsushi roared, and in seconds the tiger had jumped up towards the shooter’s window and knocked him out in a single uppercut. He slammed back down, barely missing a beat as he switched into a four limbed dash back to them. “Dazai-san!” Tanizaki cursed, quickly pulling light snow back up and checking the corridors for any other guards.

“…D—?”

Dazai chuckled in response. A smile barely held by strings, even as Atsushi slowly pulled him back by the shoulders, trying to assess the damage. Shunsuke felt his eyes widening at the red blooming across his coat, dripping down his chin. It stained the bandages around his neck. He blinked once, and an image of a dark coat, bandages wrapped around the right eye overlaid itself over Dazai.

Dazai-san, I know him, I know him but from where—?

“Heh, this…”

Brown eyes nearly shut, eyes growing empty. Oda was struck by how familiar it all was. That dead-looking, hollow gaze, something that had always been something that was part of his friend. Someone lost to the darkness, long before he had met him. Something he had doubted would ever disappear, even as he told him to join the good side, to save people, because that might just help a little.

“…not a bad way to go.”

Oda saw him. Really, truly, saw him. Why Dazai was so familiar, why he could trust him, why he felt like he’d known him long before he had ever been alive—

He heard the screaming again.

“Dazai!”

*

“He’ll be fine.”

It’s the first thing Yosano says when she steps out of the office, and there’s a collective sigh of relief at the words. You’ll think he’ll have gotten used to this, the waiting. That they all would have gotten used to it, what with how ‘Armed Detective Agency’ also came with ‘possible death’ on good days and ‘city-levelling destruction’ on bad ones.

Atsushi sighed, hands finally unclenching around his cup of hot chocolate. Ranpo had been kind enough to pass out his own personal hot chocolate sachets to everyone, although he only bothered making it in a cup for Shunsuke. Atsushi was sure the detective was going to bug them for a whole new stack of candy from that one obscure shop just outside the city in return for “giving away my precious chocolate because all of you are brooding too much!”

It had given them something to do at least, and everyone now held a cup in their hands. Small victories.

“Can we go in?” Atsushi said, and Yosano tilted her head to the infirmary door in welcome. He stood up, and was only momentarily startled when Shunsuke did too, hopping down from the couch where his siblings lay sleeping around him under a blanket. They’d found it under Dazai’s desk. No one questioned why.

The sight of Dazai sleeping was familiar, and some of the churning in his stomach finally settled. Atsushi pulled two chairs over to the bed, and Shunsuke sat down on one of them with a simple “Thank you.” Atsushi joined him in the second chair as the rest of the ADA streamed into the room.

They stared at the man in the bed, brown hair looked nearly black against the pale of his face. His mentor looked haggard, like part of his soul had been taken out of him, face twisted slightly even in rest. Atsushi felt his hands dig into his knees.

Dazai-san…

“It’s my fault.”

Shunsuke’s quiet voice echoed along the room, catching everyone’s attention. He was looking down, chocolate still untouched. Kunikida shook his head, “Kid, you didn’t ask to get shot. The idiot might not look it, but he’s hardier than he looks. This isn’t the first time he’s taken a bullet.”

“No, it isn’t just that, Dazai…if I wasn’t on this mission…”

Dazai?

He’d dropped the honorific after Dazai had been shot. Atsushi felt that feeling again, the sense that he was missing part of the picture, that brought up the memory of that graveyard overlooking a sea.

That wasn’t important now, Atsushi shook his head, hunching slightly to meet Shunsuke’s eyes. “Shunsuke-kun, all of us here have always known the risks of our jobs, we’re all here voluntarily.” Sort of. His mind automatically reminded him of how exactly Dazai had gotten him into the ADA. “No one’s to blame here.”

“No, Dazai, Dazai is—” Shunsuke cut himself off, face shadowed. Atsushi found himself shifting to place a hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Shunsuke-kun…is there something you want to tell us about Dazai-san?” He spoke gently.

Shunsuke closed his eyes once, fingers interlocking. The blue eyes that met him were old, older than seven. Atsushi was momentarily stunned by the sight. Shunsuke looked down.

“…I remembered something, back there.”

“Remembered?” Kyouka continued quietly, her tone kind. Atsushi jumped upon realizing she had shifted behind him at some point. The rest of the agency was paying attention, even Ranpo, whose eyes were open as mere slits.

“You were someone important to Dazai, weren’t you?” Ranpo continued, leaning forward on his desk.

Shunsuke nodded. “It’s pretty unbelievable, to be honest. You probably won’t believe it. I can barely believe it myself.”

“We’ve seen a lot of things here,” Kunikida pushed his glasses up with a finger. “Go ahead.”

Shunsuke tapped the cup gently and he finally took a sip. He stared at the swirling brown, watching it before suddenly blurting out, “How much do you know about Dazai exactly? What he used to do I mean.”

“We know he was Port Mafia.” Atsushi said. “We know he was an executive, and that he left a few years ago.”

“Did he ever tell you why?”

Most of the agency shook their heads. Atsushi thought of the graveyard again, that smile on his mentor’s face.

“I would still be in the Mafia, murdering people.”

“I’m joking.”

No, you weren’t.

Shunsuke was watching him, and whatever was on Atsushi’s face must have told him what Atsushi knew. The boy looked…almost relieved?

“I’m glad he’s opened up to someone at least.” Shunsuke ran his fingers against his cup. “It’s, well… this isn’t the first time I’ve been alive.”

Atsushi felt his eyes widen— the puzzle pieces were falling in place, Atsushi almost wanted to call Shunsuke’s bluff. Except Shunsuke wasn’t lying.

He knew Shunsuke wasn’t lying.

There had been a question sitting at the back of his head this entire time. A question he had put on the backburner. Dazai talked but he never talked, things he said were always of little substance, revealing little about himself. He’d put it away, knowing his mentor kept his heart closed for a reason.

That question flared in his heart now.

That gravestone by the sea.

Why do you look at that gravestone the same way you look at Shunsuke-kun, Dazai-san?

“You…you were him weren’t you?” Atsushi said quietly. “You were the friend who’d died. You’re the one he left the mafia for.”

And Shunsuke, seven years old, with eyes that had always been older than that, nodded.

It was like a slow wave of realization rolled through the room, even if they didn’t have all the pieces. Kunikida looked stricken, like he wasn’t sure if he should believe it. “You’re saying you’re reincarnated?”

“It’s hard to believe, I know.”

“He’s not lying.” Ranpo shrugged. “I can tell.”

Ranpo’s words were more than enough to convince them. They sat in quiet contemplation, wasn’t everyday you learned reincarnation was real.

“Is that why he called you that?” Tanizaki asked suddenly. Shunsuke blinked.

“Called me what?”

“Odasaku.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Shunsuke scratched his neck, “Yeah, it was a nickname he gave me.”

“May I know?” Atsushi rubbed the ends of his shirt, nervous for some reason. “Your name I mean?”

“Oda Sakunosuke.”

“…Oda-san?”

“…You can just call me Shunsuke. I…don’t exactly remember everything.” Shunsuke shifted in his seat. “Just what’s important, I think.”

“Then...Shunsuke-kun? I’m really glad you’re here.”

Shunsuke looked at him in disbelief. “I nearly got your mentor killed.”

Atsushi thought of the many, many suicide attempts Dazai had made, and every single time he’d sat in the infirmary waiting for Dazai to wake up. When he finally spoke, his voice was both resigned and sincere, “But he’s still alive, and so are you.”

Shunsuke had turned to face him directly and Atsushi met his eyes. “Dazai-san never really told us about you, but I’ve seen him. He visits your grave, Shunsuke-kun, he visits it often. Sometimes he gets this faraway look in his eyes, and he'll talk about a friend he had in the mafia.”

“He’s really missed you, Shunsuke-kun. And I’m glad that you’re here now.”

Shunsuke said nothing in response, his fingers twiddled against one another, one hand tracing the lines against his palm. His head turned back to Dazai.

“…I’m glad I’m here too.”

Atsushi smiled, “I’m sure he’ll wake up soon.”

*

Dazai woke up to the headiness of morphine, and the sterile, empty scent of antiseptic.

Ah. I’ve failed to die again.

The familiar ceiling of the infirmary greeted him. He’d never liked that ceiling, such a dull boring colour, combined with the green flooring it made everything look an unappealing off-yellow. Automatically, he pushed himself up, only for pain to spear his abdomen and freeze him midway in his attempt.

Right, I was shot, because I was trying to save—

Dazai shot up, ignoring the stab of pain, Odasaku!

“Dazai-san!” Atsushi-kun. His mind recognized, feeling a rush of air as his subordinate stood suddenly next to him.

“Dazai, don’t.” Said a second voice, a very familiar voice.

Something was grabbing his hand, and Dazai nearly snatched it away before he recognized it. The tense set of his shoulders released, and he turned slightly to meet the small, child version of his friend. Odasaku— no. No, his name is Shunsuke now.

Shunsuke gave him a relieved smile, hand shifting away from Dazai’s own. “I’m fine.”

Good. You cannot die again. I will not let you die again. You deserve to live, you have a reason to, unlike me—

“Lean back, you’re hurting yourself.” Shunsuke said, shuffling closer with the chair and pushing him back slightly. Dazai let him, resting his back against the pillow.

“Ah… How long have I…?”

“Several hours, you woke up just now but you weren’t lucid.” Atsushi sounded tired, pulling the blanket around him, even making sure to tuck the corners in just so. It was a familiar sight, Dazai almost always awoke to find one of the ADA members in the infirmary with him, and it was usually Atsushi. He breathed out, something in his chest softening.

You’re too kind Atsushi-kun, you’re wasting that kindness on me.

“Sorry, I must have worried you.” Dazai mustered his strength and managed to lift his arm up to run his hand through soft white locks. Atsushi merely smiled.

“I’m happy you found your friend again, Dazai-san.” So saying, Atsushi turned and left the room, closing the door behind him and for once leaving his mentor speechless.

When did he—

Weakness, it was a weakness. Someone was going to use that knowledge against him, it was something he couldn’t allow—

…No, Atsushi-kun wouldn’t do that. No one in the agency would do that.

Dazai had the sudden realization that maybe he did trust them after all.

“Everyone was really worried about you, Atsushi-san wouldn’t leave your side.” Shunsuke started, and he decided to listen before his brain imploded. “Kunikida-san almost made a hole pacing in front of the infirmary. They’re all sleeping in the office now.” He pointed to the door that led to the main room.

Dazai felt a lopsided smile on his face, his eyes flickered over Shunsuke, the messy auburn hair, more flustered than it had been in the morning, the hint of exhaustion in the way the boy slouched, but no wounds nor bandages, nothing that indicated he was injured. “They deserve better.” So do you.

“Then don’t take bullets for people, you’ll make them worry.” Shunsuke scolded, Dazai almost laughed.

Even the way he lightly scolded Dazai was the same.

“Shouldn’t you be asleep too?” Dazai asked instead, managing to tug his lips into something resembling a grin. Shunsuke raised an eyebrow.

“I’m younger than you, I need less sleep, and I have to watch over you.”

Dazai really did choke out a strangled laugh at that. It’s not like I could let you die again.

“Thank you, Dazai.”

…

…Dazai?

Dazai felt like he’d suddenly lost all the energy in his body, his neck wouldn’t move. His eyes wouldn’t shift from the blankets in front of him.

“Don’t ever do that again, you’ve found something here to fill that emptiness, you can’t afford to die now.”

It couldn’t be. It couldn’t be. There was no way.

Dazai looked at Shunsuke, expecting, but not quite believing. He looked at him, bracing for the almost-but-not-quite recognition. Shunsuke didn’t recognize him, Shunsuke wasn’t Odasaku, Shunsuke was a different person and he’d deserved a chance. A new chance in this world, something Dazai had sworn to himself he wouldn’t interfere in. It was the least he could do, for the person that had pushed him to the light, that had given him a different path, that had helped him find something in an oxidizing, empty existence of a world.

Odasaku smiled at him with that small, kind smile of his. The one he’d smiled right before he’d died.

“Sorry, it took a while to remember some of it.”

His silver tongue was famous, known for stringing words and sentences like honeyed candy and poisoned venom that killed faster than any gunshot could. It was an asset Dazai had always been able to rely on.

Strange. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything right now. Couldn’t even bring himself to smile.

Something warm grew in him, and it almost felt like the wound had transferred from his abdomen to the centre of his chest. It made his throat feel all choked up. Why was it so hard to speak?

“You found a job to save people, huh.” Odasaku, and it really, really was him. In that calm, unruffled tone that he’d never thought, never believed he would ever hear again—

“I’m really proud of you, Dazai.”

The lump in his throat grew until he couldn’t ignore it, and his vision wavered. He tried for a laugh, but it came out weird, sounded off. It took him several seconds to realize it was a sob.

He hadn’t made such a sound in years.

Dazai lowered his face, let his bangs cover his eyes. Shunsuke was still looking at him with those calm kind eyes, and Dazai felt a sudden tilt to his lips, smaller than his usual grins, a response that he hadn’t even tried to force.

“It’s good to see you again.”

Dazai breathed out slowly, willing the tears away. Something bright grew in his chest. It was something he had over time begun to associate with the agency. Something that the Dazai of the past could have never put a name to, something that he was beginning to understand meant happiness.

When he finally spoke, his voice was still trembling, but his smile was genuine.

“It’s good to see you too, Odasaku.”

*

The orphanage evidently hadn’t thought it would ever have to deal with the ADA coming after them. It took less than two days to find evidence and get its director and his staff arrested. Most of the orphans were sent off to other places, and the media had a fieldtrip with the scandal for a week.

The president had taken a single contemplative stare at the five kids clinging to Shunsuke and Dazai. He wondered what exactly he’d let Fukuzawa see that had led to the president nodding and saying, “They can stay as non-combatant honorary members of the ADA.”

Or maybe it was Ranpo. He had seen the detective enter the room a few hours before he did after all. Dazai made sure to buy a stack of those sweets from the store outside Yokohama for him.

He kept about half of it so he could bribe Ranpo into helping him annoy Kunikida.

The paperwork didn’t take long. Ango had been more than willing to help, and if it wasn’t just Shunsuke’s presence that made Dazai bring along a bottle of whiskey when they all met again, well, Dazai didn’t have to say it.

The office was even rowdier now, with five kids occasionally running into the office and pulling everyone into various games. Kunikida grumbled about his schedule three times more than before, always barking at them, “Keep your volume down brats!” and hissing at Dazai about how nowhere in his ideals had he decided to handle five half-grown monsters at work.

The guy was a total softie, Dazai knew Kunikida saved blocks of time in his schedule to teach them math. It was written in his notebook, he’d peeked.

Atsushi had become their big brother alongside Kyouka and Kenji. The three were nearly always talking to the kids when they were free. Tanizaki and Naomi would bring over video games, and the whole group would end up sitting in front of the agency’s television and play for hours after work.

(The cost of that thing had been worth it, Dazai thought, looking at the money left over from his executive days.)

Shunsuke and the kids were given two rooms in the dorm to share, but it was more like they owned the entire place. Dazai couldn’t count the number of times he’d woken up to find one or two of them in his room, just about to throw water on his face. It started a prank war between the kids and himself the first time it happened. Kunikida was left fuming for weeks when one of the pranks resulted in his room getting covered in feathers and birdseeds.

(He really had to thank Kenji-kun for that idea, even if Kenji-kun was technically an innocent party who was just talking about another event on the farm involving chickens and really sticky glue.)

Dazai and Shunsuke would stand in the kitchens when the younger ones were napping and cook curry together. Shunsuke was the taste-tester usually, and Dazai always made more than he needed and ended up serving the extras to his colleagues. He’d delighted at the sight of them wincing at the amount of chili in it and laughed when Shunsuke had eaten it with a straight face, much to everyone’s horror.

One of the nights in the ADA, when everyone was working late on a case and Shunsuke and the kids were sleeping on the sofa again, Dazai’s blanket thrown over them, Dazai had looked up from his barely finished report, his fingers uncharacteristically fiddling with the bandages on his wrist under the table.

“…Thank you.”

His colleagues looked at him, and Dazai felt his fingers pull even faster at the bandages. His back felt exposed even though he was sitting against the wall. Why had he said that?

Then Atsushi had smiled at him. “It’s no problem, Dazai-san.” Kyouka had mirrored Atsushi’s smile. Tanizaki and Naomi nodded with their own little grins. Kenji had dazzled him with a bright beam. Ranpo had merely ‘mmm’, lollipop in his mouth, Yosano had smirked, not with mirth, but something like sympathy, and the president had given a stern nod, not unkind.

Kunikida shoved his glasses up his nose, “Just finish that report, bandage-wasting device.” There was no real anger behind those words.

Dazai laughed. His back still felt exposed, his heart was still thundering in his chest. He felt weak, vulnerable, revealing too much and it made his hands shake.

But among these people?

He couldn’t bring himself to mind all that much.

 *

Some drawings: