wow rei sakumas gay? - kunikida-boyfriend

3:22 AM

DAZAI

:3c then change the name

i went bed!!

walks in here

10:28 PM

walks in here!!! hiii

I GIFED THAT

8:49 PM

WHEN I FIRST SAW IT

8:49 PM

YEAH U DID!! I STILL HAVE IT

8:53 PM

ohg

is caught!

yeah u nearly bowled me over

:3c

SPEAKING OF BEING DAZAI

i am looking

8:13 PM

thats all

8:13 PM

8:16 PM

yes.

was just thinkin about him

8:18 PM

was also thinkin about bits for this

i always think abt him

8:24 PM

thinkin abt things for this and i swear i had good idea but it gone ; w;

8:25 PM

buuut dazai being stupid is the usual :3c

pets u im sorry u lost ur idea the same happened to me Sob

8:36 PM

it happened to both of us :c

haha what if dazai had to work with the mafia for a short period of time because of a deal with mori thatd get them more information and its Horrible for his brain and he comes back to the ada and slump. kunikida

~~snatches~~

~~snatches??~~

~~snatches!! i like that idea but ahaha what if tho flushed emoji~~

~~its obvi more fleshed out than that but :3c~~

~~:3c~~

11:05 PM

~~i do not know what the Vibe is for you but~~

~~i likes them~~

~~:3c~~

11:09 PM

okay stops the crossy outty bit

11:09 PM

haha what if

okay sits in here

11:34 AM

i have lots of little brain brrr going on so i could just dump them in here

omg gm

12:02 PM

theyll prolly end up dumped in imessage just bc plane

12:05 PM

or in here when im off plane i havent decided

12:05 PM

brain go brr bc haha dazai mafia :3c im so nice to him

The choice had been an easy one. Really. Every choice leading up to this had been easy. They needed a meeting with Mori because both of their groups were working on a big case? Done. Mori wanted the meeting to be done on neutral ground? Done, it'd be better for the ADA too. Fukuzawa and Mori wanted to keep the meeting quiet? Done. It was just 6 people, the three pairs of double black that had worked between agency and mafia, or simply between different organizations. Fukuzawa, Mori, Dazai, Chuuya, Atsushi, Akutagawa. All of them were essential to the mission. The heads of each organization, followed by two pairs that worked well with one another despite their dislike for one another. They weren't to share the details of the meeting with anyone, not even those in their agency. Fukuzawa didn't want to raise false hope within the ADA, and Mori didn't want anyone lower in the ranks to catch hold of the information. They could easily stick to that, as this exchange of information was essential. The actions from there were simple. Listen to each side and see what they could offer. It had been going well, completely expected until Mori threw an offer out there. Like a bored owner, tossing his dog a bone to keep him happy for a short period of time. "Come back to the mafia. Two weeks as an executive. I'll give you your information." A sick grin had spread over his face at that, twisted as his eyes seemed to drill into Dazai. "I've been having some issues with some subordinates and I'm hoping you can help." The choice- well, no. This one wasn't easy. Dazai hesitated. A moment of weakness in front of the one person he refused to show weakness around, and before he could open his mouth the offer was denied. There was some back and forth then (denial from Atsushi and confusion from Chuuya) but the choice was eventually made. Dazai would go back. .

4:24 PM

Really it was his own word that solidified it. The bandaged man speaking up for himself and stating that he could last a while if it meant the ADA received crucial information. The rest of the agency was just to be told that he was on a stealth mission and thus could not check back in with the ADA. Atsushi was against it, but promised to keep quiet once Dazai assured him that he'd be alright. He'd always been pretty good at convincing the ADA he was doing alright anyway. Dazai was gone the following morning. The mafia wasn't kind to him. Heavy black coat weighing back down on his shoulders as he stepped back into the building for the first time. He was to take the role of executive once more, and Mori had little tolerance for his stubbornness. He was set to work nigh immediately upon his reentrance to the mafia. Other than the occasional whisper, many simply refused to speak around him. Something that brought an almost disappointed scowl to his lips. The two, nearly three, weeks went by slowly. Dazai's only point of contact in the ADA being Fukuzawa, and even then the communications were brief. Texts exchanged when Dazai was sitting in his mafia assigned housing while waiting to be sent somewhere or to be called into Mori's office. Those were perhaps the worst, punishments for failed (or fumbled, or anything but perfect for the demon prodigy) missions that echoed those he was subjected to in his youth. The little humanity he had felt within the ADA seemed to sink deeper within him, and Dazai was left feeling numb once more. Three weeks passed. Slow, slow, days that seemed to barely change with each second. Each tick of the clock another step closer to shedding that black coat for good. .

4:25 PM

He knew Oda would be disappointed. Despite his best intentions, he knew that Oda wouldn't want this for him. Still, it was for the better. He knew Mori had already given the ADA the information they needed (sent anonymously, of course, so as to not draw suspicion) but each second Dazai was here was another second that he felt like he was sinking once more. His bandages were reapplied tighter next time, covering wounds from missions and the remnants of Mori's punishments. When the three weeks were up, Dazai felt like a shell of himself. A man who, although not broken, felt as if he were missing something. He had once again found himself as the demon prodigy of the Port Mafia, standing in Mori's office on the last day as the boss rambled on about something mindless. All he could focus on was himself. The weight of the coat, the pressure of his bandages, the gun he'd been forced to carry sitting against his hip. He had it in him to shrug off the coat, gladly grabbing his own from where he'd kept it on the way out. The black coat fell to the floor with the gun as Dazai left, ignoring the eyes on him. Eyes that only reminded him of what he'd had to do while he was here. Still, he had refused to kill. He wouldn't have gone that far. Dazai managed to get back to his own place in one piece. He was expected back at the office within the following day, but he didn't really have it in him to do that. He barely had it in himself to message Fukuzawa that he was back in his own place before he entered it. His coat didn't get shed, not yet, as he found his way to his room. Barren, cold, and yet comfortable as it wasn't mafia housing. He sunk to the floor, in and out of sleep for a good hour or two before he was awake. Well, somewhat awake. He couldn't quite seem to focus. A few hours went by, and he couldn't bring himself to get up properly. No, he spent the next few days like that. .

4:25 PM

At some point he'd shed his coat, fingers curling into the fabric and tugging it closer to him to hold. But he didn't want to do much else. It was already so much nicer to be here, but the thought of interacting with others sounded draining. He stood to pace occasionally, mind racing with thoughts as he tried to process the past three weeks. Much of his time was spent in failed attempts to get sleep, tossing and turning as his tries were in vain. He managed some, but it couldn't have been more than four hours for the three days he'd been back. He'd been expecting to sit here for longer when he heard a knock at his front door. He dismissed it as nothing, completely expecting it to be a package or something equally inconsequential. He ignored the fact that he'd have no mail coming in. Who would want to visit him anywhere? If it was a murderer, oh well. It was dead-bolted and locked. They'd have to kick it in. Well, if they could. If they did, he decided, they probably deserved to be able to kill him. It was a hard lock. Some reward for the effort should be in place. Maybe they'd just rob him. He did nothing to respond, just pulling his coat closer to his chest. It did little to help, but it gave him something to focus on. He hadn't expected the weeks with the mafia to feel as heavy as they did, and he wondered when he'd started to feel all those emotions he felt he was missing right now. He felt ragged, hair limp and not quite as fluffy and needing to be washed. Not cut, Chuuya had forced him to do that earlier this week. His bandages definitely needed changing, the edges lifting from his skin and showing signs of wear. His clothing was wrinkled, sticking out oddly from having worn it for almost four days. His tie was discarded somewhere in the room, black mafia tie tied into an odd knot while his ADA tie lay a few feet away from him on the floor closer to the door of his room. Dark bags lay under his eyes, dull with disinterest and skin pale from lack of care.

The first thing Kunikida noticed is that it was quiet. Blissfully quiet. Wonderfully so. Dazai had been sent off on some crazy solo mission, which happens when a man with that much talent falls into your hands. Which meant a wonderful three week vacation from his resident pest. Not that he minded Dazai’s company when he asked for it, but nine times out of ten he didn’t. So he filled up his to-do list with as much work as he could muster and prepared to play catch up with all his free time. Because of how he filled his schedule the first week went by with a breeze. The air in the office was a warm relaxed drone that relaxed him enough to knock out most of his list by Friday. Not including the late nights. Which he had an awful habit of pulling even now, when he didn’t have to cram all his work into the night when he could finally be by himself. The second week rolled by afterwards, and the aura had become bloated and lazy. It happened from time to time, especially if the team was suffering from any kind of burnout. Kunikida usually managed to mitigate burnout in himself by...piling different kinds work on top of himself rather than the same mountain of papers he usually tackles. Not that the rest of the staff weren’t competent. He figures if he handles all the important work himself, no one else will have to suffer from burnout. So the ADA can rest easy while he takes on what they can’t do. —

6:16 PM

The third week droned on by like the last one, with the blonde man starting to tear at the edges like paper that’s been pinched and pulled too many times to count. He thought about it, on one late weekend night, with a pen clamped firmly between his teeth until he left dents in the plastic. And even more so, until the plastic snapped under the stress and filled his mouth with gross ballpoint ink. Hah. What a nice metaphor. Of course he had already asked where Dazai was. And got no straight answer, which was unsurprising. The way the man always had some shadow hidden away means that Kunikida would never get a full read on him for as long as they both lived. They were supposed to be partners, right? Then why is he always getting left in the dust..? Ugh. Whatever. Those thoughts served no purpose except to throw a pity party, which was a huge waste of time and energy that could be spent benefiting others. As much as he got on his nerves, he still worried about him. Whether or not he was capable didn’t factor into his ideals about Dazai. Then again, the ex-mafioso had a tendency to leave both his mind and his ideals a mess whenever he felt like it. It’s for the good of everyone. Not just himself. That’s what Kunikida tells himself as he holsters his gun on his hip. Three full weeks and days had passed without a sign. It’s for the good of everyone, and he’s not worried about him. He told himself that as he rummaged in his drawer for keys he’s not supposed to have. They were tucked under the stack of letters in his drawer, of course. Thousands of words left unsaid, waiting for the right moment or occasion to share them. If he ever had the guts to. — (edited)

6:16 PM

Polished shoes traced the familiar concrete, the keys burning a hole in his pocket as he walked to his partner’s lodgings. He’d texted him a while ago and that went nowhere, as texting him usually does. It’s a useless endeavor most days so he takes the direct route. He spun the keys around his index finger and caught them in his hands as he stood in front of the door. The metal felt like liquid fire as it touched his palm, weighty like solid bricks of gold instead of cheap brass. Kunikida pressed the tip into the lock and grit his teeth. And he finds out that the locks had changed. He only truly notices when the key breaks in the lock from the force he’d put into turning it and he winces as the loud snap rings in his ears. Yeah that didn’t work out. Oh well. He’d just have to do things the old fashioned way. The keys are placed back in his pocket and he balls his fists together, kicking at the door several times until the deadbolt caves under the strength and flies off into the darkness of the room, the door swinging open with a loud crack. Don’t worry, he’d pay for the damages later. The man had other things on his mind. Calloused hands rest on his lips as he walks inside, noticing the place is pretty much deserted. Did he overreact again...it wouldn’t be the first time. “Oi, Dazai? Are you in here anywhere?” If he didn’t find him, fine. If he did find him, great. No one else had to find out he broke into his place to get his answers. Again, this wasn’t the first time he’d had to go so far. While Ranpo was usually exaggerating when he called Kunikida an “overbearing mother hen” there was certainly some truth in such a silly statement. He flicks on the light switch.

Ah. That was the door. Perhaps they did deserve to kill him. Breaking the deadbolt was no easy feat -- although maybe Dazai was just weak. He couldn't quite tell which was the correct option here, but he was sure that breaking the deadbolt would take a little bit of effort. At least more than he'd be willing to put in. He wondered if killing him was the reward, or whether they wanted to take something from him. His apartment was rather barren anyway, he'd only come back recently so he wasn't stocked on anything he'd need, really. He didn't have much decoration, used to being moved around in the years he was hiding from the mafia. He never really got attached to the places he lived in. A mixture of knowing he'd be gone, and not having the energy to expend to put anything up. He supposed that carried over here. He never thought he'd be with the ADA for long, but as the days moved on he realized that he would be here longer than he'd ever previously assumed. He wasn't immediately scorned, nor shoved to the side for his past. Of course, he went to great lengths to keep that hidden. He didn't want to fall back into the trap of being a prodigy. He changed. He slacked off, he acted human, he falsified his emotions and put up a front. He wasn't whispered about, other than about who he could be. After all, with no background there was little to whisper about. He was no longer some dog for the mafia, no. He was allowed to be his own person. .

8:20 PM

He hardly took it. He lived a life completely content with helping others, a life that was barely his own. A life that framed itself with jokes that weren't really jokes and bothering someone because his one source of affection and contact was in the form of harsh hands on him. It was something he'd learned to appreciate. Something he took when he had little else. He hadn't gotten any of that recently. The closest he'd gotten was Mori's punishments, and Chuuya holding his head to ensure he stayed still as his hair was cut. Other than that, the past few weeks were devoid of any such contact. Even combat situations left him with nothing more than a scratch, many overwhelmed by the demon prodigy in the flesh. It was difficult being as soulless as he was, especially when it came to following orders he was given, but he knew he had to. He knew if the tasks weren't completed to Mori's satisfaction that it would only end poorly for him. Still, Dazai's life wasn't his own. He didn't feel as any human would. Or, at least how he assumed a human should feel. He didn't feel like he belonged on this planet, and yet here he was. He sat beside those who were far more human than him, and he tried to copy their mannerisms and emotions. He'd gotten good at that, sometimes he could even fool himself into feeling as if he were happy. It was only when he sunk into his thoughts in the night that it changed on him. He realized just how he was faking everything. What a chore it was, to be human. .

8:20 PM

Dazai hardly registered the voice. On the floor of his room, curled up by the nicely made bed. He heard the footsteps in the next room over, felt the slight vibration through the floorboards he was on, but didn't process them, instead first processing the light that streamed into his room through the door and burned his sensitive eyes, so well adapted to the dark room with the curtains drawn that he'd been in for three days. Of course, he had no reason to open the curtains. Not when his days consisted of thoughts and pacing. Now that there was light, however, it hurt. Yet he made no move to close his eyes. What a shitty murderer. Who would turn on a light? There was something to be said about stealth. After all, as the demon prodigy he was rather good when it came to such things. He had to hide, to make himself unknown. So why would a criminal show themselves? Oh. A voice as well? He found himself struggling to focus on the words, straining to identify what was said. He couldn't bring himself to do so though. Not when he felt so fragile just sitting here on the floor. Why would he listen? It was unlikely it was directed at him. He wasn't sure he could respond even if he tried to. He'd spoken little the past few days, especially the last three, and so he knew his voice would be rough and sore. It would hurt to speak, but if it came down to it he could.

Dazai’s place was usually devoid of more materialistic things. But it wasn’t usually devoid of himself. Or perhaps it was. He’s lost track of how many times the man had crashed on the office couch to avoid his own room. Even stealing Kunikida’s own lodgings from time to time. Though the room had a certain gloominess to it that settled in his bones and left him uneasy. He refused to draw his gun Incase this was some kind of prank. Some silly joke at Kunikida’s expense. He was used to such things from Dazai and would rather not scare the shit out of him by barging into his house with a pistol. That whole idea sent the wrong message. Instead he shoved his hands in his pockets and took a walk around the place. The house was still deserted, and it didn’t look like anyone was saying here. Damn. Did he...make a poor judgement? Again?? The kitchen was barren and so was the main room, the cold making his skin pebble in goosebumps under his sleeves. He tried to rub them away with his hands but the feeling only left a hollow warmth in its wake. Kunikida’s hand rested on the doorknob to the room. Hesitation had gripped him too, it seemed. His sharp-witted mind was already twenty steps ahead of him and filling him with all sorts of anxious bloody scenes that he was terrified to come to pass because that means he would have failed someone. That hurts more than any bullet wound ever could. But he wouldn’t know if he just kept living in his own head. So he sucked it up and opened the door, like a normal person this time. No aggression or flashy movements. __

9:00 PM

“Ah, hello?” He asked as he entered the bedroom. There was..a figure. On the floor. The man felt his blood pressure spike so hard it left him dizzy, fists clenching at his sides as he forced himself to relent. Just barreling in head first solves nothing. Instead, he comes over to them and touches two fingers to their exposed neck, the rays from the other room leaving them cloaked in shadow. The rough texture of old bandages scratched his skin and his breath hitched in the quiet space. ”Dazai..?”

The door opened. The light in the room increased, and Dazai felt his eyes burn with the light that washed over him. How bothersome, to be so affected by something like that. He still didn't move. Not to cover his eyes, or close his eyes, or shield himself from the light. There was no point. It'd wash over him at some point. He hardly processed when there was someone kneeling in front of him, not quite catching the words that were said. He seemed to be drawn a little closer to reality when he felt something at his neck. A warm touch that didn't quite fit with the chill that washed over him in this room. Or in this apartment, rather. He leaned. Unable to catch himself before it happened. His head didn't tilt, body just rocking slightly to press into the contact. It was so much, so much to handle and take in. Sensitive skin that'd been rubbed nearly raw by old bandages, followed by the calloused fingers that pressed into his neck, their pressure only increasing as he leaned slightly into the touch. Even if it was odd and almost hurt, he still wanted that contact back. It had been so long. He pulled back just as fast, not having processed what he'd done. Not at all able to take in what was going on. Not yet, not quite, although he seemed to be coming a little closer to lucidity. Another word seemed to draw him out further. That was his name. It had to be. A series of syllables that didn't make much sense to his mind for a moment. Why was he being spoken to? His mind couldn't quite catch up to where he was, not for a little while. The contact had drawn him back into the real world (at least somewhat) but it still wasn't fully enough. He blinked. He forced himself to try and focus on where he was. That answer came easily. On the floor. His back was pressed against his bed, a wrinkled coat clutched tightly to his chest. His hair was annoying, falling over his face and obscuring his vision somewhat. .

10:16 PM

Everything went from not enough to far too much in an instant, every sensation and point of contact ringing far too clearly in his mind. He didn't want to stop it though. Not when it was the first thing he'd felt in god knows how long. Dazai blinked again, and it was a slow, slow process as he lifted his head to look at who was touching him. His eyes landed on Kunikida, and as he processed that he took a breath. It was a shaky ragged half breath that barely reached his lungs, and as he exhaled he nearly coughed. Kunikida? Dazai blinked again, slow as he looked at the man in front of him. Why was Kunikida here? As far as he knew, the agency was under the assumption that he was still on the mission. So why check on him? He tried to speak, but as he expected his voice was rough. It was scratchy, more so than when he was simply tired or on very little sleep, and it hurt to speak. His throat felt dry and irritated. Still, he tried. "Ku-" His voice broke on the first syllable. "-nikida?" He couldn't bring himself to put up those walls. Not when Kunikida had walked in on him like this, vulnerable and curled in on himself. There was no point. They'd come back eventually, but not quite yet. He barely had energy to expend on being present.

He would know those eyes anywhere, even through a thick curtain of messy hair. Eyes a rich brown like the forest floor, sprawling endlessly and nursing the plants and fungi that grow on its surface. Even if Dazai didn’t believe he felt like such an important place, he’d certainly made his home in the ADA’s heart. Or at the very least, Kunikida’s own confused heart. An abyss that cradled only questions and dark secrets that either of them refused to ever touch on. Green-gray eyes had caught the subtle movement, since there was barely any space between their bodies. Only about an arm’s length. And Dazai looked like he’d been hit by a truck. Though he hadn’t thought to ask or wonder why. He’d save his endless list of questions for later. His brain had already begun piling a new list of nonsense that he was going to forcefully ignore and deal with later. So much to compile in such a short time. It would drive him nuts. For now he took his hand from the old bandages donning his neck, pushing that matted hair away from his eyes. “Yes. Can you focus on me?” _

11:38 PM

Dazai seemed lucid, but just barely. Kunikida can’t imagine how long he could have been here, curled up and light headed while the rest of them just toiled away at their day jobs totally unaware that he’s been right under their nose the whole time! He’s frustrated. Not at the situation. Nor at Dazai. Never truly at Dazai. Mostly himself, for not being here sooner or knowing anything before this point. The jacket he’d thrown on to protect himself from the cold is the man’s new blanket, draping it around him and tucking the long sleeves behind his head to cushion him without having to physically drag him from the hardwood floor. How much had he let slip by without his notice? Had he completely lost his mind? Of course it wasn’t the time to be worrying about himself either. Patience would be key here, even if he wanted to just pick his partner up like a limp doll and rattle him until he tells him who did this to him and where did they live? That would be far too much far too soon. Kunikida scoots closer and places both of his hands on his curled legs, letting his warm hands be used as an anchor in this cold room.

Kunikida's hand had left his neck. The cold of the room seemed to blow even more strongly across that patch of skin, already missing the warmth of the man in front of him. Perhaps thats why he didn't form these connections. He would rather not know what it felt like to have it, not when ripping it away seemed to hurt so badly. His walls kept him from that pain, they kept him from growing too attached too quickly. The less he felt connected here, the less it would hurt when he inevitably had to leave. He'd made the mistake of getting attached a few times now, and each one hurt so much more than the previous. Dazai hadn't quite pulled together that Kunikida's hand was now near his head. His eyes were a little unfocused, staring off somewhere near Kunikida that didn't quite exist. They seemed to snap back up in a second, fighting to focus on him as he was asked to. He managed, even if it was far more effort than he'd like to put into in a situation like this. He chose not to speak, but did manage a nod of his head as he focused on Kunikida's expression. His eyes traced the lines of his face, catching a glint of himself in the reflection of Kunikida's glasses. It wasn't enough to properly see, barely a blip of an outline, but he knew how he looked anyway. He went back to focusing on Kunikida, rather than the quiet self loathing that began to creep into the corners of his mind and take over his thoughts. He quietly traced the lines of his face, mind working far too fast for his own good. He was disappointed, maybe upset, but with whom? He couldn't imagine it'd be anyone but himself. He knew Kunikida well enough. Well enough to know how much he put onto himself. He didn't vocalize that, though, instead allowing for Kunikida to shift and throw something over him. .

8:59 AM

The chill didn't go away. The coat thrown over him was nice, a comfortable weight despite the discomfort of something touching him. He knew its purpose, to chase away the cold that had settled down into his bones. He had grown used to it, to the feeling of numbness settling into his limbs. So the sudden change, with the slow warmth creeping into him from the coat, was far too much. Still, he didn't react. Not even though the pressure was almost suffocating. His fingers simply curled into the fabric. Not as harshly as they had on his own coat, cautious with the item that didn't belong to him. Otherwise, he didn't react. Didn't ask for more. Didn't want to impose on the man who'd broken into his place. He couldn't even bring himself to thank Kunikida, not yet. Not when his mind was clouded and swimming with words. He wasn't weak. He couldn't show weakness. Not to something as simple as this. No, that weakness would only lead to punishment later. Something else that would push that cold further into his bones, into his soul. He wouldn't subject Kunikida to those thoughts, not when he'd shown him so much kindness to someone as broken and vulnerable as him. Not when he'd bothered trying to pick up the pieces, even if Dazai knew they'd only cut him later. Dazai winced. Kunikida's touch was warm. Far too warm against his own cold. A warmth he didn't need, rather, a warmth he didn't deserve. Not when Kunikida offered so much to those around him. He was soulless. He'd take the heat and it would only turn back into ice, daggers of cold piercing into his heart once the one thing he'd grown to like was taken from him. It happened every time, Dazai's soul only growing more encased with this ice the more he grew. .

8:59 AM

The warmth drew him a little closer to the surface, and no longer was he fighting to stay afloat in the terrible sea of his own mind. Still, navigating the waters was difficult. The contact burned, it burned in the sense that he wasn't used to this contact. He was used to being throttled, to laughing at hands wrapped around his neck as he was scolded for some reason or another. This was odd. This was different. It was kind and odd and- Dazai coughed, a shaky breath followed by another cough as his lungs tried to come back to their full capacity. He wasn't sitting idle anymore, no, he had to pay attention. He had to bring himself back to reality. And it hurt. The coughs shook his upper body, and his hands clawed at the fabric of his own shirt, fighting to loosen the bandages wound so tightly around his own chest. He wouldn't be surprised if they'd bruised, but he couldn't quite think of that right now. He managed to grip onto a bandage, tugging it somewhat loose as air filled his lungs. He felt far too weak. He'd broken. No longer the 'Demon Prodigy' Mori had thought him to be, he'd grown used to pretending to feel emotions. To fooling even himself. The coughing subsided after a moment or two, and Dazai just gripped the coat again, pulling it closer to himself. He took in a breath. It was somewhat calming, and if he were alone he didn't doubt that he could fall asleep right here. But he couldn't. Not when there was someone so close to him, especially someone who seemed to be trying to figure out what was wrong. Oh well. If he truly wanted to know, he'd find out eventually. Dazai knew he'd regret that, though, and like everyone else he'd be left behind once more.

How long had Dazai been left, curled up on the floor and barely here? Kunikida could only theorize the period of time. Even if he didn’t seem injured on the outside, there could be some internal bleeding or bruises underneath those old bandages that he might never find. It was always a guessing game with him, nothing was ever truly laid out in its entirety. Begrudgingly, that’s the kind of life he’d chosen. Chasing after something that’s always two steps away from him. One of his too-warm hands lifted from his leg, tracing the faint outline of the his jaw as he lay there against the bed. No visible trauma to the head, no bleeding, mild trouble breathing. He immediately catalogued these things by order of importance, synapses firing off almost too quickly. The discordant rhythm of heart left him with sweaty palms that he wiped off on his own pants. He pressed down on Dazai’s legs, using them as a brace to stand up straight. The urge to coddle him was strong and he almost made that mistake even though it wouldn’t benefit either of them. Soothing pets and words of affirmation and reassurance couldn’t break through the thick layer of ice that was Dazai Osamu at his core. It was something to be hammered through slowly, time being the only proof that everything would turn out fine. Of course he spends too much time in his own head, but where else can he go with this suffocating silence between them? “I’m going to go get some water for your throat, I’ll be back. I promise. I won’t be long.” _

1:04 PM

His feet carry him into the kitchen with little conviction, head swimming with confusion and too many questions. They would have their time but not now. Kunikida picked out a cup with a lid and a straw, filling it with water. Maybe if he got Dazai talking he’d be able to figure some things out. Again, that would come later. He needs to stop all these mental gymnastics. A sweaty hand comes up to press down on the beating of his own heart, as if it would simply stop if he applied enough pressure. The tapping of his shoes is too loud in the quiet space, coming in and sitting in front of him again. He’d barely moved a muscle, it’s almost scary. Totally unlike the Dazai he usually knows. His palms already sweaty again and he trades hands to wipe it off again. “You don’t have to push yourself, but I’d rather you get some fluids in you. Then I’ll sit you up straight so you can breathe better.” Ah. Feeling useless is so awful.

The gentle touch against his jaw was odd, a sensation he wasn't quite accustomed to. He seemed to hyper-focus on the feeling, as if trying to memorize how it felt to be handled so gently. His mind was working overtime, and as his mind typically worked a little too fast, he was able to memorize the gentle brush of a finger against his jaw. it almost hurt. It hurt how badly he wanted that contact again, and he reminded himself that he'd never needed that in the mafia. He wondered when that had changed, and why his mind had twisted that into something necessary. He'd never ask for it. No, instead he'd find himself thinking about it as he lay awake, far too late to fall asleep but far too early to do anything productive. He was used to being handled roughly, to being throttled, and thrown across tables. He was used to the feeling of his back hitting a wall with force as he was thrown back. Used to the horrible feeling of wounds reopening beneath bandages as he was handcuffed and thrown in the back of cars because he needed information for the agency. Still, none of those sensations ever really stuck. They were blips in the grand map of his mind, and as much as he hated pain he would tolerate it if it was for the better. If it was for the sake of another person. The hand left his jaw, and Dazai breathed. He hadn't even realized he'd stopped breathing while Kunikida's hand gently brushed over his face. That likely wasn't healthy, and the breath he took in after it happened was ragged. The pressure against his legs was a lot more expected, a little pain shooting through him as Kunikida pressed into the bruises beneath the pants and bandages. Two layers down that he couldn't see, nor did Dazai want him to see. And he was gone. Dazai hadn't quite caught where hew as going, but he wouldn't be surprised if Kunikida was simply walking out. He knew he was far too much to deal with, and he certainly didn't want to be a burden. Especially not to his partner. .

3:24 PM

He hadn't been expecting Kunikida to come back. Not when Dazai was so used to people leaving his life. People came and went, their relationships hardly the length of a season. Whether through death, or simply leaving whatever connected them to Dazai, it was hard to make others stay unless they were forced to deal with him. Such as a job. It was a wonder Chuuya hadn't kicked him to the curb. Well, he tried. Even then, he wondered if he was to blame. if he pushed others away solely because it was easier than allowing them to stick around and see the worst parts of him. So when Kunikida returned, Dazai was a little more than surprised. He didn't show it, but it was shocking. He had been expecting to simply sit here on the floor until he felt the need to keep himself alive, or he gained some motivation to do anything but sit here and stare. How long had Kunikida walked away for? It certainly couldn't have been long, given that he was sitting in front of him with a glass of water. He wondered which cabinet he'd grabbed the glass from as well, given that it'd been weeks since he was here and he'd long since begun to neglect any organization system within his kitchen. Dazai blinked. His eyes managing to focus again on Kunikida and then the glass in his hands. Right. He knew Kunikida would come in and try and get him back to his usual self. A joke rested on the tip of his tongue, and Dazai was close to trying to joke about the situation in order to get Kunikida to stop worrying. It didn't work, the joke catching sorely in his throat and clogging up his mind. He did need water, didn't he? It had been probably close to three days since he'd had a glass. That wasn't good. He'd die without it. .

3:24 PM

He managed to shift. One arm moved beneath him, propping up against the hardwood floor so he could angle himself. He felt far too weak to grab the glass, so he'd wait for Kunikida to set it down so he could take a sip, or hold it to his mouth. Whatever was easiest. As soon as he could take a sip, it burned his throat. It was cold, and it hurt. His throat and mouth felt far too dry, even as he managed to get some of it down. Too much, however, and he might begin to feel sickly again. He wanted to curl back in on himself, to continue staring at the wall and contemplating the decisions he'd made thus far, but he knew he couldn't. Not with Kunikida here. It'd be worthless to even try when he knew he'd be made to get up eventually. So he continued to sit up, at least somewhat. He was propped up with one forearm, already far past whatever limit his body wanted to set. It was uncomfortable, and pressed horribly into his bruises, but he managed. He still didn't speak, still trying to pull his mind back into its usual far too quick working mess.

Sometimes, he wonders if they’d ever truly connect at a time that isn’t in the heat of battle. Or if they’re destined to always work against each other in a constant push and pull with no beginning or end. Kunikida leans Dazai up against the bed to the best of his ability, seeing that he’d collapsed when he was gone. He held onto the cup, moving the straw to his lips so he could drink comfortably. At least as comfortable someone can be when they’ve been abandoned on the cold floor for god knows how long. A part of him still felt guilty and probably always would. If Kunikida was a better person who kept tabs on his partner this would have never happened. But, reality doesn’t work like that. He’s left with the scattered pieces of icy shadow that slice him when he gets too close. Even so, he picks them up anyway and lets his hands be littered with cuts and scrapes that he holds dear to his racing heart. He dares to cross the line between them again, reaching forward to brush some of the hair out of his face and tuck it behind his ear. No brusising here either. Though his eyes could be playing tricks on him. Let alone how many marks could be under his clothes that he’d never manage to find. “Who did this to you?” __

9:10 PM

It comes out on accident, riding on a single strained breath that he didn’t know he was holding. A voice full of worry and a little bit of anger. Totally unlike him. Doppo Kunikida, who’s on top of everyone’s business, is currently on top of nothing. Fuck, he’s barely got his own emotions in check. He sets the cup to the side when he’s finished with it, placing his hands firmly on his shoulders. This felt like shoving his hand into a pile of ice shards, he knew whatever he got would sting and hurt and bleed red all over his palm and seep into the crevices of his nails to stain them with neon red blood. That would be fine with him. He’d certainly been through worse for Dazai’s sake. Always for Dazai, never for himself. That’s what he was put on this earth to do. Again. He’s spending too much time lamenting. He resists the urge to shake him and pulls his hands away, choosing to pick at his physical appearance instead just so he would stop looming over him. The man adjusts so he’s sitting cross legged on the floor, loosening the tie around his neck and pinching the button of his vest to focus on the smooth plastic rather than the internal mess he wasn’t paying attention to.

Dazai's breath caught again as Kunikida reached up to brush his hair out of his face. Too close. His hand was right by him, brushing gently against his skin. He didn't want it. He didn't want to react to this. Not when everything still hurt so much, not when this was the one time he wasn't being hurt or handled roughly. No. He should know better than to react. He was being seen as weak, that's what this kindness was. A show of how weak Dazai appeared to be. He didn't need that weakness to show through. He didn't want this pity from Kunikida. He was meant to be strong around his partner. If he let his walls fall then he'd be worse off - everyone would know he was a liar. They'd know just how broken the mafia left him. They'd know he had no real soul and that he was faking all of it: the happiness, the jokes, the jovial demeanor. All false, all a mask to cover his true w- He jumped, hands gripping his shoulders tightly as one of Kunikida's questions echoed in his mind. The bruises on his shoulders burned like fire, warm hands only further emphasizing the pain. This was more like it, a firm grip on him, not the gentle touch he was unused to. It was comforting to know that Kunikida was still willing to do this. Still willing to hurt him as he was far too accustomed to. Who did this to him? What should he even answer? It wasn't right to say that the Mafia had done this to him, no. He'd gone into this knowing what he'd have to do. He just didn't think he'd be so affected by such a thing. So should he blame Mori? No, he was fucked up but he didn't think it was all on him. Atsushi tried to stop him, and Dazai wouldn't dream of blaming him for any of this, and Fukuzawa was far from to blame. There was really only one person he could blame: himself. He was usually to blame when it came to things like this, when it came to things that hurt himself. He'd made the decisions, after all, easy choices that led up to a spectacular amount of damage. .

10:05 PM

The hands moved off his shoulders far too soon, and the temptation to ask for that harsh touch again was all too strong. He wanted to feel something, but he didn't want to seem weak. Nor did he want that gentle contact again. No, he'd much rather he was handled poorly again. He didn't deserve anything better, not when he was already so broken and damaged himself. "Me." The answer was simple, hanging in the quiet air between them for a moment. Another joke rested on his tongue, but he felt far too exhausted to try it at the moment. It was far too much to even sit here, eyes looking over Kunikida and trying to focus on him a little better. He didn't expand on the statement. No, it was good enough to just answer that. Any more and it'd likely only raise more worry and questions, and it was much easier to try and quell Kunikida's worry here and now. "Now-" Dazai seemed as if he were going to try and stand, bracing his hands against his knees and making a move to get up. He knew he was far too weak, and he'd likely only fall, but the closer to alright he could try and seem the better. He didn't get up quite yet. His throat was still sore, voice still rough as he tried to swat away any worry. "Sorry to worry you, Kunikida~!" Those walls were beginning to creep back up, smile on his lips that didn't reach his eyes. "Was taking some time alone-" He coughed at the end of the sentence, trying to regain his breathing. He made a move to try and stand up, on shaky legs. It didn't last long, and he was back on the floor rather quickly, smile having dropped just as fast. Fuck. This would be harder than he thought. Even if he wanted to put those walls back up and hide behind that smile, it hurt. He felt so numb and empty, and as he collapsed back down, leaning up against the bed, he found the smile gone and his gaze a little more unfocused again. "...You can go, I'll be fine." His voice was quiet, hanging in the almost silent air.

Me...? Well that didn’t make any fucking sense. Dazai struggled with a lot of thinks that he’d never say. But it wasn’t reasonable for him to beat himself up like this. Even when Kunikida wound his hands around his neck and squeezed it never left a lasting mark. He would never truly try to kill him even if his anger got the better of him. He pinched the button between his fingers as his teeth grit together, frustration burning the walls of his throat like acid. Green eyes widen and they watch as Dazai tries to stand. Kunikida’s legs move before his brain and he snatches his limp arm, slinging it around his broad shoulders to muscle him onto the bed. “Dazai, don’t—“ Kunikida forces him onto the plush mattress, sitting him square on his ass. Only then does he release his arm with a flourish. His partner was clearly weak so logically he wouldn’t be able to run around and pretend like everything is fine. Even though that had always been his partner’s favorite coping mechanism. Lying. As usual. He may never find the answer to why that’s the first thing that comes to mind even now. He kneels down in front of him and takes his shoulders again, leaning him forward to look into those dull brown eyes. “You’re so very far from fucking fine. Who did this to you?” The frustration inside him broiled over in an awful way. It burned his bones and his throat closed up in anger and shot down his spine to emphasize the amount of knots he's developed over these three weeks from bending over his laptop and worrying about his stupid idiot partner who's two breaths away from collapsing.

Ouch. Dazai winced, old wounds and bruises pressed into as Kunikida forced him down to the mattress. It was pain, the sensation washing over him and grounding him again. It helped to snap him back to life a little more, even if he still didn't show it. He still felt sluggish and slow to speak and react. Oh- The mattress was certainly more comfortable than the hardwood floor, and Dazai hadn't realized just how sore he was until he had moved off of it. Every joint in his body felt like it was going to creak and break under the weight of himself. Looking into Kunikida's eyes was difficult, and it was less the weight of his own body that weighed on him, but the weight of his lies. He knew how genuine Kunikida could be (sometimes to his own detriment), and lying to him could prove to be difficult. Especially now, when it was so difficult to even exist in a capacity like this, exposing his vulnerable side to another human. He wanted to build those walls quickly, hiding himself from the rest of the world. There was no need to let Kunikida see this, there was no need to let anyone see him like this. He was meant to be stronger, he was meant to be the comic relief. The one who jokes about his own demise as if it were something casual. Jokes that were never taken seriously despite the serious nature of each and every threat. "I did, of course." His voice broke again, he really needed more water, throat still feeling horribly sore. His gaze was still dull, and he looked at Kunikida with half lidded eyes, half closed because of both pain and exhaustion. "Who else would have done this?" He asked, quirking a brow at Kunikida. "I was.." He trailed off, coughing again. "Taking a bit of vacation time before going back to work." .

11:51 PM

He tried to change the topic quickly, not wanting to have to answer that question properly. He knew Kunikida would worry, or yell, or scold him for what he'd done. Even if it was for the better, for the information that Fukuzawa had told him had helped the case greatly.

Nice job idiot, all you’ve done is make him hurt more. Jeez. Don’t you know better Kunikida? He leans down and picks the cup up from the ground when he hears the scratchy cough, holding the straw to his lips with a frown. Right right. Grilling him would get him nowhere at this rate. Vacation? What kind of vacation ends up with someone sitting on the floor of their apartment in the dark. Even if Dazai’s “vacations” were. Something else entirely. Sweaty hands adjust the coat tighter around Dazai and silently hoping that the weight would bring him closer to reality. Closer to the lighthearted jeering the two of them are used to. Familiar and almost maddening yet comfortable. He wasn’t here when he needed him the most. As usual. Because he’s always been two steps behind him. Getting hurt in the process of helping even though his partner never asked him to do that to begin with. Nothing about this situation made sense. He set the cup aside when he was done with it and forced himself to wait. Taking a deep breath into his lungs, holding it until it burned and letting it out slowly. There was something else he could try. Just putting that important question aside and moving onto the future. That’s the important part in the end, right? “Okay. Uhh, when did you get back? You look terrible.” For fucks sake. His honestly was the worst sometimes. For once he’d like to say what wasn’t on his mind for once.

Dazai gladly tried to grab at the cup, managing to somewhat brace it against his hand as he drank some more. It burned still, but the cool of the water was comforting against his scratched up throat. He made a note to thank Kunikida after this, after the rest of the conversation simply blew over peacefully. At least, that was the plan. He didn't bother to pay much mind to his hands, barely noticing how they tugged the coat tighter around him. It was comfortable, the weight enough to continue to ground him as he fought between his thoughts and the reality he was currently facing. The warmth was a plus, a shudder shooting up his spine as the chill began to slowly move out from where it rested in his bones. He had to wonder why Kunikida had come here, but he supposed that it was bound to happen. Someone was bound to ruin his plans of simply wallowing in his own sorrow for a bit. None of this was anywhere near ideal. He was showing parts of himself he wanted to hide, he was showing his weaknesses and fears. He was showing that he couldn't live up to what Oda wanted him to be. Far from that, actually. Dazai took a breath, calming the thoughts that crossed his mind and began to cloud his train of thought again. The fog washed over him, dulling what he wanted to say as he tried to push it away. Now was not the time. He could.. think about that another time. To try and do better. To try and make him proud. "This is my vacation time.." He managed to explain, "Just my time off~!" He sounded much too cheerful, but it didn't even come close to reaching his expression or his eyes. "I got back from the job... three days ago?"

Sigh. Why does he even try. On second thought, he knows why he does. It's just easier to brush everything off like it was a pain to him, not worth looking into or struggling with. No matter what Kunikida does he'll never fully understand Dazai. It would be better to not put in the effort at all some days. But then he'd never be able to live with himself. He has to try. At least. What happens afterwords doesn't matter. As long as he gave it everything he had. "And you've just been... here this whole time? On the floor?" He takes his own sip from the cup, unthinking about using the same straw. The cup is set aside and he practiced slowly the racing beat of his heart. Can his partner hear it? It feels so loud. But that could be the illusion of noise, the roaring of blood on his ears a song only for him to deal with. He wipes his hands off and pressed the index fingers against his temples to bite back at the migraine creeping in. "We were worried about you. I was worried about you. I thought you'd bit the dust for good this time." Hah. How stupid of him to bother worrying about someone who wants to die.

"Mhm!" That same practiced tone, just jovial enough to give the impression that he was energetic and thriving, but not too cheerful so as to seem manic. It was a fine line that he toed, but years of practice had adjusted that just right. Still, he was far too exhausted to put on a fake expression, the bright tone contrasting with dull eyes and a slight frown as he tried to keep his gaze on Kunikida. Maybe eventually he'd manage. Another time, when he wasn't running on empty in terms of sleep and energy. Running with a mind far too clogged up with other thoughts. Worry? Dazai had to pause at that. The least he wanted to do was worry others, hence the jokes thrown around so casually to ensure he still seemed energetic. Hence slipping out of a room when he knew he'd break soon. It was all to limit this and yet he'd done it anyway. A bitter laugh rested in his throat, not quite bubbling out but sitting on the back of his tongue. The taste was acrid, even though it hadn't shown itself yet. Something he'd beaten down for years upon years. He knew he'd waited a little too long to respond, coming back to the conversation after what felt like a few minutes when in reality it was a split second of silence between them. He hated how fast his mind seemed to work at times. He caught Kunikida's sip from the glass, thinking little of it. "The floor's not the worst companion." The joke came from him easily, and he winced as he shifted to place his weight on his other arm. "You can't get rid of me that easily, Kunikida." Bitterness seeped into his words at the beginning, but soon enough he was cheerful. "I told Fukuzawa I'd be out for a few days-" No he hadn't, "- and you guys knew about my solo mission so. What's the issue?" Well, they knew it existed. They hadn't told anyone about it, for good reason too.

"This isn't the time to be messing around." Kunikida pinched the bridge of his nose, letting his eyes fall shut to try and not fly off the handle. It wasn't the time for that. Even in his weakened state, Dazai's primary talent was grating on his nerves. Not that he didn't know why. Of course he knew. He was an attention seeker no matter what kind. That never stopped him before so why would it now? He leans back on the bed, relaxing the toned muscles of his stomach with head tilted up towards the ceiling. Where does he go from here. His story didn't add up at all and making sense of it just made his head hurt. For a long moment he said nothing, foot tapping in the air to a steady rhythm that he tried desperately to grasp at and replicate for himself. "What you say is true to a point." He starts, raising his hand up to adjust his glasses. Constantly moving, constantly touching. Unable to stay still. Gears always turning in overtime even if the rest of the world is still. "But I would have preferred it if you at least told somebody. Rather than dropping off the face of the earth and thinking no one'll notice."

Dazai felt exhausted. The lack of sleep, combined with the effort of even keeping himself upright, was slowly catching up to him. It was becoming more and more difficult by the second to keep himself sitting up, but he couldn't let himself fall. But, of course, he was doing all of this for attention. His lies and jokes were all to draw attention to himself, of course. Never mind that he purposefully kept his life under wraps, hiding as much as he could until something had to be said. His past with the mafia was kept quiet for a long period of time, only having to be exposed when they needed to work with the mafia. Never mind that he was secretive to a fault, not letting people in behind his walls. No attention at all would be far better than the attention he got, but no attention was terrifying, leaving room for failure and for making mistakes. It left room to slip up and expose himself to the world. "Hm. But I told Fukuzawa-" As he said that again, he began to doubt his own claim. He thought he'd told the organization's director, but now he couldn't be sure. The last three days had passed in a blur of semi consciousness, and Dazai wasn't quite sure if he had done that. It seemed like he would, but Fukuzawa had at least known that he'd been on the mission with the mafia. "But you're the only one who noticed." It wasn't as joyful as the previous statements, simply calm as his mind went somewhere else entirely for a few moments. "I do this to myself, Kunikida." He hummed, gaze turning back to him. "I'll be back at work tomorrow! No need to worry over me." For someone whose ability to trust was so broken, his lies came far too easily. The same things he feared slipped from his lips with little worry for the consequences. The sooner Kunikida thought everything was alright, the better. . (edited)

9:10 AM

Any calm or happy expression that had remained on his face had dropped, chin dropping to his chest as he fought the urge to simply lay down and pass out. He was exhausted, and it would be much easier to simply fall asleep here. He knew he couldn't but he'd allow himself a brief moment of rest like this, eyes turned down towards his lap, shaky arms supporting him at either side of him on the bed. He was starting to slip again, back into that sort of numb feeling he'd been dealing with for days on end. It was easier than facing the pain of his bruises and wounds, it was easier than having to admit to Kunikida that he'd gone back to the mafia for any amount of time. It was easier than admitting that he'd disappointed Oda. That numbness washed over him like a wave, and Dazai fought to keep himself focused, even if his eyes were just focused on his lap. Anything helped, anything grounding. He knew he couldn't slip back to that again, not if he didn't want word about this getting out to anyone else. (edited)

Pity and Dazai usually don’t share the same sentence. Kunikida has learned it was a useless endeavor, and his energy should be spent on other more positive and productive things. Working towards his ideal future rather than trying to lord over everyone by feeling sorry for them. Not when he can do something about it. “If you told Fukuzawa then he didn’t inform any of us. Everyone’s noticed you’ve been gone, I was just the first to do something about it.” Everyone else was used to their song and dance by now. Dazai’s especially. His awful habit of just disappearing for days or even weeks. Life goes on for them easily. Except maybe Atsushi. Him and Kunikida have always been tangled in Dazai’s bandage web for different reasons. It’s a shame that the time he puts into him would never be returned. Never reciprocated in any way. Though he always avoided thinking about that. Even in this empty stale air that thought felt like a hot knife searing his skin. Sigh. He hops off the bed and stands Dazai up, allowing himself to be used as a brace as he pulls the covers aside. His grip isn’t gentle, but it’s not violent like before. It’s firm and sturdy, much like his personality. Honest to a fault. Kunikida shoved him back into the bed and knelt down to literally pick up his legs and place them into the bed. If their were shoes here, they’re gone now. “You know what? Just-just get some actual sleep. We can go over this in the morning. Or in a couple hours. Or. Whenever..” Hm. That tired and defeated tone of his wasn’t like him. He shook his head and pulled the blankets around Dazai and sat on the edge when he’d decided he was comfortable enough.

Dazai winced as he was tugged up from the bed, some of his joints cracking as he had to move again. The movement was harsh on him, pain shooting through his body. Still, he fought not to react. The wince was the most to come from him, keeping silent otherwise. He didn't want Kunikida to feel bad. Perhaps it'd be better if no one even pretended to care. They were used to him disappearing, used to his absence for longer periods of time. Why would they care if he was gone just a little bit longer? Three weeks was nothing, add on a few more days and that was just a nice break from the man who was Osamu Dazai. If he was such a nuisance, then why wouldn't they just want him gone for longer? He was used to it. Getting kidnapped on purpose, putting himself in situations like that. He'd take the pain if it benefitted others. He'd take it if it meant being less of a bother to those around him. He didn't really react as he was pushed back down on the bed, mind elsewhere and sort of looking at some point just to the left and behind Kunikida as he was moved. The contact burned his skin as Kunikida let go of him, and Dazai felt as if he were itching for more. He hadn't needed that before, so why now? He'd never needed gentle touch, or kind words. He'd always been the opposite, spurred on by pain and the numbness that always came afterwards. He seemed to click back in halfway through Kunikida's sentence, processing that he was being tucked into a bed. He shifted, trying to lift himself up to sit. A harsh cough bubbled from his throat, and Dazai covered his mouth as he doubled over for a brief moment. "I'm fine, Kunikida." His tone was a lot more even, not quite as cheerful as he wanted to portray himself. "I'm just a nuisance to you, it's alright. I'll be back at work bothering you tomorrow." The sooner he left, the sooner he could curl back up and actually sleep. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep with another person here, too on edge and vulnerable. .

12:41 PM

His mind was still swimming with Mori's words, things he'd heard time and time again. That he was just a prop for the mafia, the demon prodigy, Mori's underdog. The words just swam in his mind, pushing him further into this far too vulnerable mindset. He couldn't sleep. Not around Kunikida like this. Not when his sleep would be plagued with nightmares and demons of his own mind that haunted him even when he was awake. He'd take the black spots in his vision and the exhaustion if it meant not having to confront his fears in front of someone who still knew so little about him. Someone who barely knew he had been in the mafia, much less his status and how much power he'd had there.

Kunikida heaved a sigh again to release the pressure in his head, placing his hands on his knees to stand up when he figured Dazai would stay down. He was dumping too much on a guy who’s barely managing to stay in his own body. So this whole interrogation was useless. Not that he even intended for it to end up an interrogation in the first place. But that’s how things usually went with Dazai. You have to pull teeth to get anywhere. What a pain. He wasn’t obligated to do any of this and yet he’s done it anyway. Their partners and that’s the justification he’s using. That’s it. There’s no sense reading between the lines or hoping for anything else because his partner is too closed off to be able to connect with someone like that. Which is fine. He’d be here for him all the same. But that doesn’t mean he can’t quietly hope that things were easier. He patted the sheets and walked out of the bedroom, gently closing the door behind him. This wouldn’t be the first time he was left to his own devices in his space, so he tugged a spare futon out of the closet and laid it out on the floor. The glasses came off and it took all of his willpower to not chuck them against the wall just to hear the glass shatter. Thankfully that didn’t happen. He undid his vest and shoes, setting them to the side neatly and he collapsed on the futon. Sleep was fleeting and cruel, and he couldn’t tell when he finally passed out. When did his eyes start stinging?

Dazai tried to sleep, he truly did, but the few times he managed to drift off, his sleep was light and he was haunted by nightmares that he could never seem to truly escape from. He tossed and turned for a good while, probably close to hours. That numb feeling had all but dissipated, leaving him in pain from the thoughts that wouldn't just let him be, as well as the wounds he'd never really bothered to take care of. He did manage to drift off, for a short period of time. It couldn't have been more than two or three hours, and it was difficult. When he did wake, it was harshly. He jolted awake, breath catching in his throat as he clawed at his chest to try and stop his heart beating too fast. A glance at the clock told him it was just past four in the morning, and he slowly let out a breath as he fought to relax back onto the bed. He winced, staying still for a little longer before he dragged himself up. That was more sleep than he'd gotten a while. Getting up was painful, and he moved to the door of his room. He nearly fell over, still feeling the after effects of the exhaustion all over. His head was pounding, and he scrunched his eyes shut as he leaned against the door for support, gripping onto the handle. He stepped into the other room slowly after having opened the door. He kept his footsteps light, frowning as he saw Kunikida. Why was he still here? He thought he'd leave. He didn't have to fuss about him. He stepped into the kitchen, some glass clattering together in the quiet air as he looked for something. Water first. Water and then something to attack this godforsaken headache.

It's okay, neither of them are having a restful sleep. He didn't feel like waking Dazai up by trying to tidy up the mess that the apartment had become, or causing him unnecessary anxiety. So he would just have to wait for now. Which is probably for the better. Even so his sleep was poor, and he found himself staying up simply out of habit. What could he do in the dead of night without his laptop or work to distract himself with? He pulled a notebook from his pocket, the metal pen falling out with it and clattering to the floor. He picks it up and it burns him, the cold metal colliding with his sweaty palms. Kunikida wraps his whole hand around it until the metal warms up and he presses the top with his thumb. When in doubt he turns to the paper. It'd always been that way and always would be for years to come. His calloused hands are far more talented with writing through the mess in his mind, words flowing easily on the paper and easily hidden away from sight. Confusing feelings become clear when doused in ink and he can go back to focusing on the real world. The clattering makes his head shoot up, leaning forward to grab his glasses. But by the time he gets them on hesitation settled in his bones. Dazai doesn't need your help. He never did. He just wants to be left alone. You're just making that difficult.. ... Fuck off. He sets the notebook aside and stands up, his legs aching slightly from sitting cross-legged for so long. Kunikida leans up against the wall, arms crossed and focusing on the floor rather than looking him in the face. Dazai didn't need to see the red rims around his eyes that could be from lack of sleep or something else entirely. "You left the medicine by the sink if you're wondering."

Dazai had turned the light on in the kitchen when he'd walked in, rubbing his eyes as the brightness caused him a little unsteadiness. He seemed to be bracing himself against the counter with one hand, the other absentmindedly digging through a cabinet as he searched for the medicine. He jolted at the sound of a voice, elbow bumping the cabinet door and hitting it against the next cabinet door. He sighed, taking a moment to process what had been said. Ah. He had forgotten that. To be fair, it had been a few days ago and he hadn't left his room since then. He turned to the door, and he looked like a bit of a wreck. Dark bags underneath his eyes, disheveled clothing and hair. His bandages were lifting at the ends, definitely needing changed. He looked exhausted, reaching up to rub his eyes again. He nodded in response, leaving a half full glass of water on the counter as he moved to go grab the medicine. He seemed to struggle with the cap for a moment, managing to pop it off more than twist it off (childproof stuff was so annoying to work with). He dumped a few into his hands before he twisted the lid back on and popped the pills into his mouth. He grabbed the water, taking a sip and downing the pills before he moved to lean and brace himself properly against the counter. He was still off balance and in pain, dealing with the end of a very painful spiral. "You didn't sleep long." It was a statement more than a question, and Dazai didn't expect an answer. He could tell as much from how he looked, but he didn't want to go and analyze every little bit of information he had right now. "Why'd you stay?" The question was weak, quiet as he kept himself steady against the counter. It wasn't accusatory, asked simply out of curiosity. He could guess why, but he supposed he didn't want to know if he was correct.

Oh how a man can yearn. Kunikida kicked his leg up and propped it behind him, using the traction against the frame to ground himself. His nails dug into the fabric of his shirt and it scrunched under his grip. He couldn’t look at him. Which was worse than most of the shit he was used to. The back of his head hit the doorframe with a sigh. “No, I didn’t. I’ve been up writing.” As one does. Dazai’s familiar with the his frantic scribbling in the dead of night. Nothing about that would come off as strange or unusual. He’s just stressed out. That’s all. Honestly he should show more restraint. Then again he’s..never been one for restraint when his coworkers are involved. That’s how he ends up leaning against the counter with Dazai, a small space left between them, only about half a ruler’s length. Just enough to be comfortable but not enough to cross the boundary into touching territory. ..Eh? “Did you really just ask me that?” He grips at the collar of his shirt and tugs it down, feeling suffocated in the kitchen space even though he chose this in the first place. Even so. It still kinda hurt. A slice right along the palm of his hand. “Because I care about you? Why else would I do it.” He puts a single hand in the air and gives him a judgement a look, almost to say ‘no shit I stayed here you bumbling idiot.’

Success, at least on some level. Dazai had gotten an answer for his question, and he'd gotten Kunikida to look up at him. He wasn't sure he'd count that second part as a success, especially not with how Kunikida looked right now. Red eyes, which could be from a lack of sleep but Dazai knew him better than that. Especially given that he likely had gotten at least a little sleep. He wanted to press, to question on what had happened, but he didn't feel it was his place. It was so much more evident with Kunikida right next to him, barely a few inches away from him. He could tell something had happened, even if he was sure it was himself, he couldn't tell why he was so keen on trying to help him if it seemed to be hurting him. "Because you're obligated to." Dazai tried pushing off the counter to stand straight, but it was rough. He swayed a bit, struggling to stay upright without the counter with him as support. Still, he was fine with swaying. He was simply going to try and stand on his own for a bit. "You're my partner, you have an 'ideal' of saving everyone." He waved it off, feeling a little more off balance. "So you feel it necessary." He hummed, rubbing at tired eyes. He didn't want to fall over, but he was too stubborn for that support again, even if he stayed that close to Kunikida. "Now- you look..." He trailed off, bad with describing emotions. "Your eyes. Are you alright?" He asked, trying to distract from himself. Nope, nothing to talk about with Dazai. Unimportant.

Kunikida regrets looking at Dazai now. It’s painful to see him stumble around like this, clearly at one of his lowest points that hasn’t hit in a long time. If he could just do something about it he’d be up in an instant. But he can’t. It’s the ideal he can’t achieve. Among...other things that are too far out of reach. Thousands of things left unsaid before an unseemly departure that may never arrive. He glared at him with venom in his voice as he spoke. “I’m not obligated to help everyone. It’s a conscious choice I make that falls into my ideals, not the other way around.” He scoffed and turned his head away from him, looking up at the cabinets and thinking about how to make things neater in here. A clean home usually translates to a more healthy mindset. That was something that was also filed away in his ideals. Things that he created to follow by. They didn’t control him. They were a reference. There was no sense being mad right now and yet he can’t seem to stomp it out. His eyes fixate on the far away, closing his eyes to try and compose himself. There wasn’t any sense in getting angry. “It’s nothing, really. A lot of late nights. The usual.” See? He can dodge questions too. Even if he hates to do so. Lying may come easy to Dazai, but it leaves a bitter pill taste in Kunikida’s mouth. “Then again. I should ask you the same question. You look like shit.” Here we go again...

Ah. Kunikida had always been fussy about his ideals. He didn't know what he'd been expecting when it came to these sorts of things. Probably worse. He most certainly deserved worse. He'd be lying if he wasn't almost hoping for kinder words, but he would never admit to that. He was the 'Demon Prodigy'. He shouldn't hope for such things. Hell, the emotions he'd shown Kunikida were more than enough. He'd had far too many, and he'd put far too many out in the open. He needed to hide those better. He was becoming too casual around his coworkers. As his mind wandered, he spent less time focusing on his balance, aand... Nat 1. Dazai sways again, but instead of catching himself he seems to stumble. It's a brief moment, one he doesn't fully process as his mind is somewhere else. He falls back, falling onto the floor. He's still sitting up, hunched over with knees partially up. He can't even be bothered to get up, not when he knows it will just bring more pain. "Ah- Do I look that bad?" He pouted, not bothering to look up at Kunikida for another few moments before he tilted his head up to look at him. "You look like a ghost, Kunikida." He taunted, the smile he gave him a little too tight and definitely full of exhaustion. He really wanted to sleep, but it was hard enough for the little time he did get. Maybe another hour and he'd be alright, then he'd be closer to three and a half hours. "Can't imagine I look too bad." He looked down at himself, "Well, my clothes are a little wrinkled, aren't they?" Liar, he was used to keeping everything under wraps again. No need to say too much and regret it later.

“Shit—!” He sees Dazai sway too far out of the corner of his eye. In an instant he shoves himself off the counter and wraps his arms around him, knees bending to lower the man slowly to the floor rather than crashing onto it. Because goddamnit he’s still weak on the inside, even under his anger and closely hidden feelings. He kneels down on the floor and tucks his feet under him, resting Dazai’s head on his lap so his pain doesn’t get any worse. At least the headache part. ... coughs.... “You’ve had better days..” he trails off with a heavy sigh. “I’m trying to say that you don’t look very well and I’m worried you might have some internal bleeding, or bruising of some kind. You need medical attention.” He glares down at him, flicking his nose at his cheeky comment. While Dazai wasn’t entirely wrong, that wasn’t exactly Kunikida’s focus at the moment. The movement was familiar and it made him yearn to be out of this dreadful situation. Alas. This is reality, not his fantasies or the worlds he creates in his notebook. This was already far too much. Even if he wished he could do a lot more for him. Anything if he asked for it. Within reason anyway. Not that Dazai is one to ask for anything ever in his life. The two of them are stuck in a constant tug of war where no one ever wins.

Dazai winced as Kunikida wrapped his arms around him, the contact far too restricting and far too close. It hurt, to be touched so kindly. It hurt that it wasn't throttling or some harsh motion or smack against him. He wasn't used to the kindness, especially not from Kunikida. Still, he found himself leaning into him ever so slightly. He'd tell himself it was for support. He didn't process for a moment that he was nearly laying down, but the cold tile of the kitchen pressed into his side, and he knew his hip bones might have some bruises the next day if he was here for too long. "It's not internal bleeding." Dazai sighed, eyes still open and just sort of staring off into the distance as he spoke. After another moment he let them close, shaking his head, "Bruising is the usual. Nothing major. 'None of Dazai's injuries require any medical attention past monitoring for potential infection. Were an infection to occur, he should see a medical professional in order to clear up the issue. The wound perhaps most at risk is-'" He paused. It sounded like he'd been reciting off a medical report, which he had been. He'd committed it to memory on the last day he'd been with the mafia. He had no need to do so, but some of those things just tended to happen. He felt pitied, like this whole experience was one massive pity party and he despised it. Still, it was.. nice to feel cared for. The feeling was foreign and odd, but not at all painful.. ish. "My wounds are bandaged and safe. I'm fine, Kunikida."

.. wait a fucking minute. Kunikida’s eyes were wide in shock as he stared down at him, the medical report he’d miraculously memorized adding a puzzle piece that he’d been missing this whole time. If he was pale before, it was now redundant since all the blood and anger had drained out of his complexion. No way. His hypothesis couldn’t be true. Nope. No. The question burned his throat but it wouldn’t be worth asking. So he ignored it until it went away. Dazai wouldn’t give him a direct answer anyway so there was no point. “Right. Well. You’re fine enough, but that doesn’t mean you aren’t still in pain. Being ‘fine’ just means you can handle it.” ....a long beat of silence hung between them. He wiped his hands off on his shirt and pushed his glasses up. Okay. Soft moment over this was getting awkward again. The man slips out from under him with ease, offering him a hand to help Dazai back onto his feet. “Though in my opinion, people who say they’re fine usually don’t hole up in their rooms and sway on their feet when they’re just standing there. So really it’s a matter of perspective.”

Dazai hadn't noticed the shock on Kunikida's expression, eyes having shut as he rested against Kunikida. It was nice, to be so close to another person, even if he knew this moment wouldn't last long. He had the brief thought of allowing himself this more often, to be more vulnerable around the people who cared for him. He shot the idea down as soon as it crossed his mind. There was no need to further propagate the idea that he was as weak as he currently felt. Kunikida moved away soon after, and Dazai was left feeling that cold again. That chill that had begun to creep back into him, leaving behind a hole that he couldn't quite manage to fill. Hah. Perhaps Odasaku was right. He'd never manage to fill that hole in his heart, and perhaps he'd wander alone for eternity. Even if he was on the side of good. He didn't know if he was doing it right, if Oda would be proud of him trying at all, but he had to hope. Odasaku was one of the few people he could call a friend, and he'd gone and ruined that too. Another person hurt because of him, another person who died at his hands. Thinking about him had nearly drawn tears back to his eyes, but as he blinked he managed to get rid of them without shedding them. He was still cold. Dazai didn't know if he'd ever actually known warmth. Dazai didn't think he ever would. He looked up at the hand offered to him, blinking at it for a moment as he tried to get out of his own mind. Cautiously, he took the hand. A compromise. He might not be willing to speak, but it was a moment of trust that Dazai placed in his partner as he stood. "A matter of opinions, Kunikida!" That was far too bright, he made a note to dial it back. "I think I'm just a little tired." An obvious lie. "The job took a lot out of me, you know?" He still felt unsteady, so he made no move to move quite yet.

It was easier to smother his feelings under thick layers of tact, etiquette, and ideals. The truth was far messier than the shards he takes from it to suit his own needs. Dazai reaches up and takes his hand and the contact could burn him if he thought about it for too long. He found himself squeezing his hand in his grip, firm and steady as he helped him to his feet. He forgot he was supposed to let go after that. He mostly did! His grip became lighter but it still lingered there, his calloused fingers hooked loosely with Dazai’s and hesitant to pull away entirely, as if whatever compromise they made hung solely on that physical contact. His clammy thumb pressed into the side of his wrist where gauze met skin and memorized the strange textures between the two. Kunikida winced at his overly happy tone, tasting the saccharine falseness that made him want to gag and throttle him. Why can’t he be open about anything without having to nearly strangle him for it to happen. ...whatever. It’s not like his opinion of Dazai changed anything in the end. What’s happened has already happened. Bruises have already been given. Blood’s already been spilled. “Right...” He glanced down at the ground then back to him, pinning him with his red-rimmed eyes and clearly worried expression. “Are you okay?” That was a strange question to ask considering the situation they were in. And yet it was the only phrase that came to mind. If he wasn’t careful, he would slip and fall into the same darkness that Dazai had made his home in.

Dazai was the first one to break the contact, it was a bit before he did that however. He let himself revel in the feeling of contact for a little longer, memorizing the feeling of Kunikida's hand almost in his, much in the same way he'd memorized the gentle trace of his jawline. The calloused fingers were the same, but his fingers were much more sensitive to that touch, evolved to be able to sense that much more clearly. His own fingers weren't calloused, but his hands were a little dry, little care applied to them much like the rest of him. He didn't speak until Kunikida did, biting his tongue and keeping silent. He didn't need to say more than was asked of him. Was he okay? That question felt like a loaded gun, and Dazai glanced down at their hands as if Kunikida would be pressing one into his hands. Logically, he knew, that wouldn't happen. Kunikida wouldn't be doing that, and still that's what this question felt like. Was he meant to answer truthfully? Putting his vulnerabilities out there for Kunikida to see? For someone to be able to use against him? Or was he meant to lie, once again closing himself behind a wall of lies, so that no one could use anything he said against him again? So he became cold, numb, and unable to ever be truly human. Because he wasn't human. He'd never be human. And this was such a human question. A question that played on his abilities to feel and think and need like a normal person. And he couldn't even do that. "No." A blunt statement, but Dazai didn't take it back. He stood, just looking at the man before him. It was another moment before he continued there. "Does it matter though, Kunikida?" That sweetness had all but dissolved, Dazai feeling far too numb to keep up that happiness. "I'm alright, so all is fine." (edited)

The hardest questions are usually the ones that need answers the most. Kunikida knows that. Hell, they both do. It's question he usually bites on, realizing that he rarely ever gets a real answer out of his partner. It's far easier just to stay on the surface and never go looking for the truth in him. Diving under the lies and shadows never leads to anything good. Maybe that's what drives Dazai away from him in the end. His constant nagging and day to day irritation that belies a million confused feelings. He moved his hand away long after he let it go, not realizing what he had clung to in the first place. It went into his pocket, looking his partner up and down with a shocked expression that was easy to read on his tired features. Does it matter? "Of course it matters." The man crossed his arms, pushing his glasses up to see him better. Pale green pastures met forest floor and for once he felt relieved. "Is there anything I can do to help you?" When in doubt the most direct path seemed like the best one. No amount of strategy or beating around the bush would help. Especially not in a....strange situation like this one. Even if he didn't mean to come off as gentle, that's the tone he was putting out. Ahh, Kunikida. Forever as open as his own notebook. Couldn't tie a lie together even if he tried his best. (edited)

Of course it matters. If Dazai was going to be completely honest, he'd call Kunikida a liar immediately. That phrase was all it took. There was no logical way that he could matter. Not when he'd done so much to deserve the opposite. Still, it was far easier to allow the lie to slip past his radar. To let him believe that he'd bought into his statement, and perhaps allow him a moment before he had to answer another question of why? There was a beat between them after Kunikida's question, Dazai's mind having wandered elsewhere in the short period of time. His gaze had crawled to somewhere else in the kitchen as he thought, snapping back over to Kunikida in a split second as his mind scanned for a response. Was there anything he could do to help? Nothing seemed to come to mind, especially not anything that would be normal to ask of another person. "How sweet, Kunikida-" The taunting statement slipped out before his mind caught up to his mouth, needing to fill the silence between them with something. Were it up to him, he'd tell Kunikida. However, his ability to trust had been so worn down over the years (and recent weeks) within the mafia that he found it hard to do anything but hide behind that mask he'd put up. Still, his partner seemed genuine. It was hard for him to lie, and Dazai knew he was the exact opposite. Honest to a fault, and the bandaged man seemed keen on tearing down any chance he had of being trusted by him. There was another beat of silence as Dazai weighed his options, then, cautiously- "...Don't tell anyone else. Atsushi in particular." That was a start. A statement which lacked any of the harsh lies he'd been putting out before. He really needed to sit back down, feeling unsteady and lightheaded the longer he stood up. Maybe Kunikida knowing wouldn't be terrible, and given the way the cold numbness seemed to be creeping into his veins, he didn't doubt that he'd find out soon enough once he broke.

Ow. Kunikida winced, the taunt going straight through him better than any bullet ever could. There it is again. Reaching his hand out only to be cut again. He really should know better by now. Maybe he does, and he just stopped caring about the pain. ...Yeah. That felt right in his heart. It happened to fit within his ideals too, something he would carry to the ends of the earth if he could. He closes his eyes and nods. They both can understand the value of privacy, and there's a certain pride that even men that want to die carry with them. The pride of how they present themselves to others. Dazai wouldn't want to be seen this way, in this half-conscious state between his "regular" self and his "true" self. If the two of them were even separate entities to start with. He holds his arm out to Dazai and hooks it around him, making himself a brace for him as he tugs him into the main room again. At least getting him to sit down would be a good start. If his partner crashed to the ground again it would just embarrass him in an entirely different way. Not that Kunikida would be embarrassed with him. In his eyes Dazai was more than worth the effort. He wouldn't let himself keep getting cut if he believed otherwise. "Here, you can take my spot until you feel steady again." He says, plopping him down on the futon he pulled out. As he's done for dozens of others, he bends his knee and kneels in front of him, wrist resting limp in the air as he looks at him above his clear lenses. Uh. He was up the creek without a paddle now. The lump in his throat catches his words and he looks away for a moment. "So uh.." Kunikida starts to talk and forced himself to cough into the crook his elbow. "How do I...help you? I don't want to make you too uncomfortable but, uhm, you shouldn't be treating yourself this way. Laying around and rotting away and...all that."

He didn't complain as he was led to the main room, leaning on Kunikida heavily in order to support himself. He knew he'd probably fall over without the support, and although it hurt, being dropped down onto the futon was perhaps the easiest thing he'd done all night. He didn't want to let go of Kunikida for a moment, wanting to keep that contact there, and as soon as it was over his skin pricked with goosebumps. He wanted it back, if only to use his own ability. It was grounding, easy to work with, and it let him feel a little more human. He'd never ask for such a thing though. There were few things he would ask for, especially in a situation such as this one. "Kill me." The request was easy, voice light even as he suggested such a thing to his partner. He knew his partner wouldn't take it, but he might as well ask anyway. He felt as though he were crumbling, and he'd rather die with some semblance of humanity still left in his blood than let himself continue to wither with the thoughts of the mafia haunting his mind. "As painlessly as you can, although I won't complain if there's a little bit as long as it's over quickly." It didn't feel like a joke, unlike so many of his other attempts. Those were bright statements, quelling any worry with the excuse of humor. This was different, and even if he tried to smile to break up the seriousness of the moment, it still wasn't enough. He felt exhausted, days of staying up far too long weighing heavily on his mind and his body. His limbs felt heavy, shoulders slumped and weighing him down as he looked down at his lap. His eyes shut at some point, and he made no move to properly sleep but just to rest for a moment. Perhaps staring at that wall for so long hadn't helped either. .

2:26 AM

He knew what he needed. He needed a shower. His hair was limp and gross, his bandages needed changed, and he definitely needed clothes that weren't mafia issued with the creases pressing harshly into his skin. He had little energy to do so, though, willing to just sit like this until he worked up any amount of strength to properly stand. He needed some semblance of self care, despite the fact that his mind had decided that the glass of water and the painkillers had been enough. Still, asking for those things was far easier said than done. Kunikida didn't know the extent of the damage, and Dazai had a sinking feeling that Kunikida wouldn't be all too keen on leaving him alone to wallow in his own miserable mind again.

"Nope. Nice try." Dazai's statement was shot down without hesitation, rolling his eyes. No matter how many times he asked, he'd never given him anything less than a no. He should have predicted he would say that. Looks like he's figuring it out on his own. Not that it was terribly hard. Though his partner wasn't usually this beat down. Kunikida reached out to pinch the edge of his sleeve, rubbing the fabric between his fingers to check it out and the bandages tucked underneath. Come to think of it, this wasn't Dazai's usual choice of clothing. What kind of infiltration mission needed something like that? Usually he just dons his regular brown coat and goes about his day. Ah, whatever. Wherever they came from they didn't suit him at all. They were also probably dirty at this point. Don't. Don't. Whatever impulsive thought just slid into his brain needed to go. Suddenly the floor is really interesting. He drummed his fingers on his leg as he forced the gears in his brain to turn a different direction. After a long beat of silence he sighs and leans forward to knock Dazai on the top of his head with his knuckles. "I'm putting myself in charge of putting your ass back together. Starting by cleaning you up so you stop looking like a oily rat. No. This is not up for debate." Only then does he stand up again and start rolling the sleeves of his shirt up past his elbows with a certain conviction that only comes when he's dedicated himself to a singular task. Usually it's something monotonous or life-threatening. This time? It's personal. The motion brings up a sickly feeling of nostalgia from a decade ago. Who would have known strong-arming his friends into taking care of themselves would become a secret skill? "Take some time to relax while I get a bath drawn up for you. That's not up for debate either, so don't even try. You know you'll feel better afterwards." (edited)

A shame. Kunikida never indulged him in his want to die. Maybe one of these days. His thoughts managed to swallow him again, and Dazai didn't even notice Kunikida reaching out to pinch the fabric of his shirt between two fingers. His mind drifted back to the mission again, focusing on things it probably shouldn't. Dazai jolted slightly at the knock on his head, not expecting contact so soon after he'd been dropped onto the futon. Warning would have been nice, but he knew that Kunikida was trying. However stupid Dazai thought that was, though, didn't matter here. He knew he couldn't stop Kunikida from trying to help. That was like trying to separate Chuuya and his wine, or, well something more serious than that, but he didn't have the capacity to think of such a thing at the moment. He turned his head, blinking his eyes open as he looked up at Kunikida. Ah, it seems he had no choice. His first thought was to think of all the ways he could weasel his way out of taking a bath, or getting forced into getting clean. Still, he knew from experience that Kunikida would not take no for an answer, despite Dazai's best attempts. "Mm. Okay." A surprisingly easy agreement from Dazai, despite knowing he'd usually argue such a thing. He didn't know if he had it in him to be able to take a bath or a shower or anything, but he'd just nod his head and go along with it. Once Kunikida left, he could try and rest. He didn't bother to lay down, staying sitting up on the futon with his legs crossed under him. He let his chin drop to his chest, eyes closed as he slowly tried to drift off. It didn't work, and he was just on edge as he paid attention to every little noise around him.

Kunikida mulled over some things in his head as he crossed into the bathroom, kneeling by the tub and turning on the water. Let's see...hot but not too hot to burn. He had memorized how to turn the knobs to get the perfect combination. Thanks Katai. You really prepared him for moments like this. He left that running once he decided the temprature was good, rummaging through the medicine cabinet for new bandages. His partner went through them like water to a parched man, so there was plenty. Usually they're scattered all over the small apartment but they were all in a singular place for once. The man set them down on the counter to be done later. Not by him, obviously. One of the rolls lingered in his hand, the small weight it carried nothing compared to its emotional significance. Though maybe someday he could come close. The thought was laughable, but in his head it was possible. Dazai would never let him see him that intimately ever even when he's in the grave, but the idea of being able to help him with something so important was appealing. Ah, whatever. He set the roll down on the counter and went into the bedroom. Those dark, overly-creased and neat clothes didn't fit right on him, and every time he pictured them in his brain his nose scrunched up. They also must be uncomfortable at this rate. Kunikida skimmed through the sparse outfits in the closet and picked the most comfortable and loose one. Cool. That's part two of his current to-do list. He laid them out on the bed. What else needed done...? He probably needs more water for sure, maybe something light. His foot tapped on the ground as he went over his list. All of it was pretty unimportant at the moment so it could be left for later. He nods to himself and pokes his head back into the main room. Well. Yeah. That scene's about right. His heart aches.

The sound of footsteps caused him to tense as they neared the main room. He despised being so on edge, watching and listening for any little threat or break in the silence. A habit picked up from a lifetime of needing to be on edge. A shame it carried over even here, into a life of 'good' where he wasn't meant to be on edge. He had to wonder what others would think. The opinions of others weren't always the first thing on his mind, but given how little people knew of his past, it was interesting to think of what they might think of him now. A man on the side of good who wasn't good in the slightest, still embodying all of the wrong things that he picked up all those years ago. He didn't think he'd ever be 'good', not even with a promise to try not to kill. Not even with Oda's wish constantly on his mind. His gaze snapped up, sharp and harsh as tired eyes scanning in front of him for the source of the noise. Any threat was something he had to watch out for, after all, and the mafia had made it easy to appear threatening enough. His eyes darted around for a brief moment before they landed on ... Kunikida. Ah. Right. He didn't know how it had slipped his mind, but it had, and Dazai felt all the more stupid for it. His gaze softened slightly, and he sunk back into his slumped over position on the futon. It was too late now. Kunikida knew he was awake, and Dazai wouldn't be able to escape being forced into the bathroom. His jaw clenched as he forced himself to take a slow breath, head dropping down again. He was far too tired for this, and he knew Kunikida was as well. After all, didn't they both have work the following (the same, rather, given that it was past midnight) day? He didn't know if he could actually make it into work. Not as weak as he was. He'd be damned if he didn't try, though.

Kunikida caught his alert stare, blinking at him slowly. He watched until Dazai slumped onto the futon. Did he...do something wrong? It was hard to tell with him in this half-conscious state. Or maybe he was just being a pest by forcing him to go through all these self-care tasks. Even though he needed them, that doesn't mean he has any right. He pushed his glasses up his face and ignored his doubts, walking over to the futon and picking him up like a rag doll. Albeit a stitched-up one. "Come on.." He mutters quietly, patting him as he carried him into the bathroom. Uh. There wasn't anywhere to sit him down properly, so he just bent his knees and stood him up. Sure, he was exhausted. Both mentally and physically at this rate. But he'd been through worse. Something like this was simple compared to his late nights at the office. At least he was up and walking around for a change of pace. His calloused hands worked at Dazai's clothes with a certain coldness to it, choosing to not linger anywhere that would make him uncomfortable. Fuck, he'd probably be invading his privacy by going this far. Then again..it's never been this bad. Usually he can toss Dazai into the bathroom and he'd do it himself if Kunikida barred the door. Ugh. This was so confusing. Something about these clothes made his stomach turn too, though he couldn't put his finger on exactly why. He folds them up and sets them aside as he goes, leaving the undergarments behind. His mind was off in a different place, floating in the void between his feelings and his obligations, a tired fog over his usual precision. That's where his mistake was made. _

4:07 AM

Green eyes were lidded and his hand had taken Dazai's wrist in his, pinching the edge of one of the gauze wrappings and peeling at the side. Only an inch was left undone before his eyes go wide and he flinched away like it'd burned. "Ah..sorry. I wasn't thinking." ...He takes a few steps back and clears his throat. "I'll uh. Trust you to do the rest of that. Sorry...uhm." He closed the bathroom door. The gentle thump of his back hitting the door was audible in the tense space, and he wipes at the corners of his eyes with the bottom of his palm. Stupid, stupid Kunikida. With his lack of focus and his forceful nature. Dazai should get a partner who can actually respect his privacy. Stupid, stupid foolish man.

There was little protest from him as he was moved, once more just reveling in the physical contact with Kunikida. He didn't pay much mind to what was happening otherwise, trying to force himself to remain upright and somewhat balanced as Kunikida worked at his clothes. There was no need to protest. He knew his partner would stop before he reached the bandages. He knew that this was to help. It wasn't as if he had the energy to protest either. He made a note to burn those clothes later. The coat, unfortunately, probably would stay. Tucked away into some closet, despite the fact that he'd tried to leave it with the mafia. It hadn't been his own at the start, and yet it seemed he was stuck with the thing. He could have sworn he'd burnt it years ago too. Dazai had been somewhat calm throughout the whole process, but as soon as he felt a hand tugging at his bandages, he tensed. His entire body seemed to lock up, and he was quick to pull his hand back. His eyes, wide with confusion, looked down at Kunikida's hand, aiming to look back up at him before his partner fled the room. Ah..? He'd parted his mouth to speak, but Kunikida was gone before he could really get a word in, left with the soft thump of what he assumed was his partner sinking to the ground. He watched him leave, confusion crossing over his face for a brief moment before he managed to sort of process what exactly he was doing in here. He had so little energy that even being in the bathroom was a chore, and he avoided the very prominent temptation to sink into the bath with his bandages still on. It was too much effort otherwise. Still, the texture of wet bandages against his skin was far more unpleasant than just wrapping and replacing them himself. Especially given how dirty some of them were. .

4:33 AM

Dazai sunk to the ground soon after, beginning to work at the bandages on himself. His limbs felt weak, fingers barely able to sort out the tucked in ends as he tried to get all of them off. It was far easier said than done, but he sunk into the familiar motions that he'd done so many times before. The motions were accompanied by the occasional wince, exposing bruises and wounds that stuck to the gauze from a lack of care. One in particular seemed to hurt more than the others, drawing a sharp intake of breath through his teeth. The bandages were haphazardly discarded into a trash can into the bathroom, and it was a little while longer before Dazai found it at all necessary to move again. He forced himself to stand on shaky legs before he sunk into the warm water of the bath. He allowed his mind to sink as well, thinking on his mission. It did nothing to help his emotions. If anything, it only worsened them. He still felt weak as he forced himself to wash himself to some level of acceptable. He owed this much to Kunikida, without whom he'd be on the floor of his room still. Unable to move a muscle. Weak limbs lifted to wash his hair and try and clean the wounds that he'd gotten during his mission. He spent a little too long sinking into the warmth, but forced himself out eventually. He was still unsteady and shaky as he dried himself off, except for his hair which was dripping wet. He took the time to try and rebandage himself, some of them tighter than normal, and some back to normal. He ensured every bandage looked somewhat neat and even, given that they stretched from his neck to his ankles. He certainly had a lot of them. And then he set to looking for clothes. Ah. Dazai blinked, wrapping himself in the towel for warmth. He sighed, scrunching up his nose as he went to the door. He knocked, to alert Kunikida he'd be opening it soon. "Need my clothes." He tried to explain, voice still rather weak. Well, he could only hope that Kunikida would hear him.

Kunikida slowly sank down to the floor against the bathroom door, the ground stiff and unforgiving on his bones. He’d never understand why Dazai found the floor a comfortable place to be. He crosses his legs and propped his chin into his hands, staring at the wall and blinking away the heat that had built up behind his eyes. He was so tired... Turns out playing tug of war with yourself is more taxing than he thought it would be. Eventually he managed to drag himself off the floor and brush some dust off of himself. Only one of them could spend their time moping around, he has work to do. Things to accomplish. People to take care of. Wait, does that count as a coping mechanism, or just avoiding the fall? ... Nevermind. He’s not thinking about that. The knock on the door catches his attention and he jumps, Dazai’s weak response showing him a flaw in his list. Ah fuck. That’s embarsssing. “Y-yeah! Sorry I’ll, go get..those.” He groaned and covered his face with his hands. For once having good ears was good for something other than eavesdropping on everyone else in the office. The clothes are retrieved, how the fuck did he forget that, and he opens the door enough to hand them over to him. Stupid stupid stupid. Jesus Christ. That’s the easiest thing in the book and he can’t even do that right. He spends his free time tidying up the kitchen, creating a space for every kind of item rather than having them scattered all over the place. That was the final thing that was weighing on his mind. Now he had no more tasks to do. ...Fuck. He walks into the main room and lets his body collapse on the futon, falling into it with a loud plat sound. When did he become so short-sighted?

Dazai managed a thank you as he was handed the clothes, sinking back to the ground soon after. He kept the clothes in his lap, leaning back against the wall as he fought for the energy to pull himself up and get dressed again. He was so exhausted, and with no reason to be either. He'd done nothing but sit around the past few days, and for what? To wallow in his sorrow as others did actual things with themselves? Hell, he'd done nothing while Kunikida had come to check on him. Some prodigy he was. Hardly able to keep himself moving unless he was pushed along. Well, that wasn't always true, but still. The title of his past weighed heavily on him, and Dazai found his mind far too full as he sat there. He managed to drift off briefly, a minute or so of sleep before he jolted awake again, head hitting the wall behind him. He cursed softly under his breath, wanting to just curl in on himself. He was growing colder by the second, wet hair dripping onto bandages instead of getting dressed like he should be. It was another few minutes before he forced himself to get dressed. The clothing was far more comfortable than his mafia clothes, and he forced himself to his feet. He used the wall to steady himself as he left the bathroom, not needing to flick off the light as he'd done that earlier in an attempt to avoid looking at himself. He wandered out back to his room, staring at his bed and where he'd been sitting the past few days. He vetoed that idea and managed to make it out to the main room, sinking onto the floor by the doorway as his eyes landed on Kunikida. He still felt like a wreck, hair messy and wet, dripping onto his clothing. At least it was more comfortable, a large shirt and joggers that he kept around solely to relax in. Not that he got to do that often. They were comfortable, especially after missions where he'd gotten hurt and needed to wear something that wasn't tight like his bandages but still covered him nearly completely.

4:59 AM

His only issue came with the collar, not quite covering where his bandages usually would cover. Kunikida didn't seem asleep, yet he still felt bad waking or bothering him. "Thank you." The statement was short, brief as Dazai tried to collect his thoughts once more. At least that much was necessary. More was absolutely deserved.

Hm? Kunikida rolled over to sit up straight as he heard the door open. Right right. He’d been so caught up in the haze over his mind that he’d almost forgotten Dazai was still awake. He’d gotten more comfortable while he was away, his shirt partially unbuttoned with the sleeves rolled down and a hair tie wrapped around his wrist. The man ran his hands through it a bit in an attempt to look more put together. “You’re welcome. It was the least I could do.” His eyes slowly trail to the side with a frown. Whelp. “I hope you feel better somewhat. You can do..whatever you want now, I suppose. Get some sleep if you can but don’t stress if you can’t.” He sighed and rubbed the back of his head. “I’ve got you called out of work anyway so you don’t have to worry about being up at the regular time.” Well. He does the best he can. That’s all he can do in the end. If his partner still finds him a nagging bastard after that then oh well. Even if he wonders often why Fukuzawa had them team up in the first place. Not exactly a match made in heaven. That question lay buried in one of his many letters. Maybe he’d ask one day. Maybe not. Probably not, actually. There’d be no point at this rate. Kunikida manages to flash Dazai a reassuring smile and laid back down on the futon as a signal for his partner. Whether or not he slept would be a mystery. Probably. He’s so exhausted and the thought circling around his heard are distracting. That’s putting it lightly. (edited)

Dazai didn't really feel better, not at all if he was going to be completely honest. The bath had helped somewhat, he didn't feel as uncomfortable as he had before with the clothing. But it did little to help his mind and his emotions. His thoughts were still going far too fast, mind heavy with all the information being tossed around in there. Still, he wouldn't want to admit such a thing to Kunikida. Not when he'd taken so much time out of his day to help someone like Dazai. He struggled to think of how he might be worth it, worth the effort that Kunikida had taken. Still, he wouldn't ask. No, he'd distract himself with another line of conversation. His eyes caught how much more comfortable Kunikida looked, far removed from his very strictly put together self. It was nice, a sight few ever got to see. He'd have made some joke about it, but Kunikida's words caught his attention more than anything. "You haven't slept much, if at all." The statement was simple, not exactly inviting conversation with the sentence. "You're not going in like that." Easy. He didn't think Kunikida would agree, but even he could see that Kunikida was being a hypocrite with that. Maybe it was partially to distract from himself, but there was also worry there. His partner was still human, he needed that rest. Despite his taunts and jabs he did care about his partner. Otherwise, he simply wouldn't bother.

Hehe, that’s funny. Even if it shouldn’t be. Kunikida chuckled and shook his head. “No, I’d go in with my hair up, obviously.” Now he understands why his partner goes to the lengths he does for his emotional walls. While his are more clunky and awkward, they exist for a different reason. Not to hide, but to reassure. What he puts himself through he wouldn’t put on anyone else’s shoulders since he knows how the pressure feels. For all the time he spends with Dazai, he figured he’d pick up some of his habits by now. That didn’t seem to be the case now, nor has it been since they got together. Er, as coworkers. Kunikida was a one trick pony that could brush off only certain things and get caught up in others. He realized he was staring him down again and his eyes went wide, flicking away towards the wall rather than his exhausted expression. What a strange playing field he’s landed himself in. The land mines are just questions and the ground is littered with icy shards. No matter how many times he’s traversed this path he can’t tell if Dazai actually cares or if he’s just poking fun at him out of habit. He’d never know.

"No." It was lacking the humor that Dazai usually put into his jabs, and he fixed his partner with a more serious look. There was no vemon in his voice, or in his gaze either, but he seemed rather stern as he said as much. Normally he'd laugh it off, but it was a lot easier to tell something was wrong when it came to Kunikida. "I mean you shouldn't go-" He paused, putting a hand to his mouth as he yawned. God, he really wanted to rest. "Go into work. Not like you are now. No offense." Dazai settled back into his spot, hands on either side of him as he leaned back onto them. Sure, his words were rather one toned, but he hoped they showed that he caared -- even if it was in his typical roundabout manner. He couldn't show he cared, not truly, not when it'd only lead to Kunikida getting hurt. That affection was weakness, that caution showed vulnerability. That care showed that he had something that could be used against him, and he'd be damned if someone got hurt because of him.

Kunikida looked Dazai up and down in confusion, crossing his arms against his chest. Damn. Usually it was easy to brush off his partner's genuine concerns about his well-being since he knows his own limits. (Not that he doesn't push past them anyway) His eyes followed him as he sat down and he heaved a sigh. The seed of doubt he'd been ignoring had crawled its way through him into how he acts on the surface, and the vines cause him to pause to try and find an answer. Unfortunately he wasn't coming up with anything good. Dazai could read him like an open book even if he tried to hide. That's the con of having a partner, they learn your habits. Dazai knows Kunikida's workaholic tendencies and Kunikida knows Dazai's darkness in turn. Parts of his darkness, anyway. "I've worked under worse conditions, I don't want to be behind on anything. You should focus on getting some proper rest." He says and waves his hand in the air, adjusting his glasses that suddenly felt too heavy on his face.

Dazai narrowed his eyes at his partner, noticing the easy way that he seemed to wave off getting rest. What was it that he'd said earlier? Something about not being fine, even if you felt it. He wasn't sure how to just call out Kunikida for being a hypocrite in that sense. Not when he seemed far too happy to just move past it completely. "You may have worked under worse conditions, but you can't run on coffee and paperwork, Kunikida." He tried to add a bit more of a humorous tone to that, but it felt flat to him. He couldn't get across that teasing attitude that he wanted to put out there. He felt tired, numb, and cold. It was far too difficult to try and act bright, not when his own false sunlight would burn him. "If you're going in, so am I." He'd actually try and force himself to work too, if it came down to it. Kunikida was being hypocritical, and he'd wear himself down a little more if it meant showing him just what was wrong with what he was saying. "That's not up for debate."

The hypocrisy only goes one way. Kunikida'll gladly take a thousand bullets for someone as he yells at them for doing the same. It's in his nature, whether he wants it to be there or not. Others shouldn't suffer for his sake. It's a shame then, that Dazai is crafty and knows his pattern of behavior by now. Avoiding the hard questions and taking on far too much as a form of escapism, to feel like he's not worthless despite everyone telling him otherwise. He's not sure when that pattern of thought began. Years ago maybe, when he was young and naive. Believing that every person on earth was able to be saved. Now he knew that wasn't possible but damn if he didn't try. Wait what did he just say- "No you aren't! You're in worse shape than me! You aren't waltzing around and trying to be normal in public when you're two steps away from collapsing!" Kunikida shakes his head aggressively, waving wildly with both of his hands to Dazai's body and general state of being. And he used his own phrase against him! Crafty bastard. His face had flushed a bright red, but at least he wasn't angry. More embarrassed that he was caught in his own hypocrisy. After a moment his arms drop into his lap and he sighs. Damn it.

Dazai did laugh at that, a barely there chuckle that he tried to have sound normal. It didn't work completely, that bitter sort of undertone creeping into the laugh, but he managed at least somewhat, to get across what felt like a semi-normal laugh. "See?" He asked, voice still somewhat weak in the quiet air between the two of them. He wished he could flick a switch and be back to normal, but he still felt far too vulnerable at the moment. He didn't even think he could go into work the following day, even if it was to prove Kunikida wrong. He knew he'd just collapse, but he might as well try. "You shouldn't be pushing yourself, Kunikida." He hummed, letting his eyes flutter shut as he relaxed a little bit. "Me being worse off doesn't mean you're doing well. You're not going in tomorrow."

Kunikida pinched the bridge of his nose, the deep frown on his face emphasizing the tired lines he wore. Damn. He sat back on the futon, resting on his hands as he wiggled his foot, letting out some of the anxious energy stored in his limbs. “Fine, fine. I don’t like it but. I’ll do it.” Ugh, he hated calling off. He rarely ever did so, and could probably count the occasions on his two hands. Mainly because he didn’t want to drag anyone else down with him. Especially if he had a virus or something that the whole office could get. But this? An entirely different situation. It was unfamiliar and he hated unfamiliar things. He can’t be in control of something he isn’t used to. “Then what am I supposed to do with myself?” He asks him, turning his head to look at Dazai with a searching look. There wasn’t any teasing in his tone like before. No, that seemed to be a genuine question. What was he to do? Free time is so rare these days. Even though Kunikida does it to himself.

Dazai breathed out a soft sigh of relief as he agreed. Great, that meant he didn't have to argue as much as he thought he would. Not that he was exactly the resident expert on well being and taking time off. Dazai rarely did that, well, he rarely took real time off. His mind always seemed to be focused on something or another, flooded with thoughts that weighed on him and rested constantly on his shoulders. Still, he didn't call out often, and even if it took until the end of the day he'd at least try and get work done. Missions were his friend in that sense, keeping him on his feet and ensuring that he didn't have to sit around and be left alone with his thoughts. Cautiously, he shrugged his shoulders. He wasn't too sure what one did with real free time. He usually just sat around with his thoughts, or busied himself with working towards information for some mission. While paperwork wasn't his thing, he was constantly working. Just not in ways people needed him too. "You relax." He sighed. He wasn't sure what to suggest to Kunikida. He didn't think he had a hobby (maybe? he always saw him working or writing something). But, Dazai didn't have much to give to him either. "Sleep, hopefully."

Yeah that was a dumb question to ask. He felt stupid as soon as he opened his mouth. Kunikida scoffed and shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah, forget I asked....” He tried to keep the bitterness out of his tone but it leaked through anyway. Of course Dazai wouldn’t know, why did he even ask? He took his glasses off and tucked them into his breast pocket, brushing long strands of blonde out of his face. “I should be telling you to sleep. But that’s a fruitless endeavor.” He sighed. This was so awkward without something to focus on. What kind of waltz can you dance with someone who won’t even touch you?

Dazai frowned at the bitterness in his tone, the slightest twitch of his lips barely visible before his expression settled back to neutral. He opened his eyes, scanning Kunikida's expression for any hint of what else might be bothering him. Nothing, he was led to think it might just be himself then. Oh well, it wasn't unusual for Kunikida to be upset with him. His glasses were off, so he took a moment to let his eyes scan over him, catching on the strands of hair. It was getting late, and Dazai's mind had to wander and wonder how he'd look with the sunrise from the window shining over him. It wasn't as if he had any right to know. No, he should avoid such thoughts as soon as they presented themselves. There was no need to put his partner in needless danger for the simple pleasure of getting to know him better. That would be selfish of him. The opposite of what Oda had wanted from him. "I did sleep." He sighed, letting his eyes flutter shut again. He wouldn't mind falling asleep here, on the cold floor. "Can't sleep anymore." Not when nightmares and bad thoughts came so easily.

“Passing our for three hours doesn’t count as sleep. But, I understand.” Kunikida’s eyes were dull as he stared up at the ceiling, lost in the fog that had settled over his mind. Sometimes he glanced over to Dazai, raking his poor vision over him from time to time. It was hard to tell the nuances in his expression when he could only see his outline. Maybe it was better for both of them that way. He knew he was overbearing. Even though he wishes things were easier. He didn’t think much about what he was doing at the moment. His clammy hand twirled a small ballpoint pen in his hand, feeling the numerous teeth marks in the plastic. Wow, he hadn’t busted this one yet. Good job. “I can’t blame you though. I don’t sleep much either usually. I find it unnecessary.” The pen ends up between his teeth, and he focuses on the weight of it in his mouth as he proceeded to leave more gouges behind.

"It's necessary for humans. Thus, you need it." Convenient, then, that he could count himself as inhuman. He had little need for sleep. It only brought about thoughts that he wanted to keep at bay. Thoughts that no human should have. Fitting that he was just some demon, convenient for those who had simply used him and tossed him aside for his ability and strength. For his intelligence. Dazai hated the convenience. Hated that much of his life was devoted to the movements of others, moving with the waves as others decided his fate for him. Right now, at least, he was dedicated to Oda's last words. He didn't have any plans on betraying those, but the mafia blood still ran black in his soul. He didn't think he'd ever really be 'human', not with how stained his soul was. "I've been on far less in the past."

“It’s necessary for people. Not just you or me.” He said quietly, taking the pen from between his teeth. His head was still drowning in unasked questions and confusion, a million things left unsaid that he wanted to admit. Even if he was made fun of for doing so in the first place. If he could just get some peace within his own mind, he’d be able to help Dazai easier without making him feel worse about himself nearly constantly. Kunikida scoffed at him with a bitter smirk. “So have I, that doesn’t mean you should. You just said that to me after all.” Does it still count as hypocrisy if it goes both ways? Or does it transform into something else? He’d never know. Giving it too much thought might scare him. Ugh. At this point he might as well draft three more letters that’ll never see the light of day. But it was embarrassing to write those with someone else in the room, whether it be Dazai or Tanizaki or even Fukuzawa. His letters were a purely private matter. But man. He wished he had something to focus on rather than his guilt. The pen clattered between his teeth as he laid back on the futon, unfocused and overwhelmed. “I would still like to know what happened to you during that mission. It pisses me off that I wasn’t able to go with you. I’d beat their ass if I could.” (edited)

People. The word echoed in his mind for a moment, and a scowl seemed to flicker across Dazai's lips for a brief moment. He didn't think he was anywhere close to that either. He'd never really seen himself as anything close to human. If he had, then perhaps he wouldn't have been used as he was by the mafia. Used as he was by Mori. He hardly registered that Kunikida was throwing his own words back at him, and he wanted to protest that it was different but he couldn't find it in himself. His mind had drifted elsewhere, lost back in the thoughts he'd been trying to avoid. He shoved them aside as best as he could, but couldn't quite shake the pinpricks he felt all over his skin when he was reminded of his time in the mafia. Reminded of the things he'd done. Reminded of how much humanity he lacked. Reminded of how useless he was when it came to anything but the mafia. Really, he wondered how he'd even gotten here. When he deserved far worse. "Oh?" Dazai's eyes opened, looking at Kunikida. Not that Kunikida could see him, his glasses were still off. "You wouldn't want to, Kunikida. It was the usual. A mission. Boring." He yawned, but it was fake. Not enough to be noticeable, but enough that he was sure with little effort he could tell. "You wouldn't have liked it very much. Not your type of mission."

“None of your missions are my type but I would have preferred it to having you come back to the ADA in pieces.” Come back to him in pieces more like. An intimate phrase that he really wasn’t allowed to say. Even if it scalded his throat he’d never admit to it. It wouldn’t do either of them any good in the end. The pen spins effortlessly in his hand, looking at Dazai when he seemed to be looking back. Had he been staring at him this whole time? He couldn’t tell, but he had an inkling that he was. Oh well. The longer this went on the more hopeless he felt. What would this do for either of them in the end? Nothing. Him and his partner are just walking in circles at this point, living in their own heads and shoving the other away for whatever goddamn reason. It was frustrating as hell. But that’s the path he decided to walk with Dazai, and these were the consequences. He lets the chewed pen rest on his bottom lip. “Do you ever wonder about anyone besides yourself, Dazai?” Have you ever been in a conversation that shouldn’t be happening, and yet it soldiers on despite the warning signs?

"I'm not in pieces." He didn't want to snap at him, and he managed that much, but his voice was flat. Hearing that reminded him how vulnerable he'd been around Kunikida. Letting anyone see him in that state was mistake number one. Especially Kunikida. That was not only a weakness, but something to be used against Kunikida. He couldn't have the ADA hurt because he'd made the mistake of getting attached. Dazai tensed at the question. His shoulders seizing, and his form fell completely still. His hands clenched at his sides, and he was quick to curl them into fists in the fabric of his joggers. His jaw clenched as well, forearms trembling as he fought to keep himself still. Anyone besides himself? A million words and memories flooded his mind, words from when he was a child up until now. Selfish, selfish, selfish. That's all he was, right? He only ever thought about others around them, fighting to keep them from seeing who he truly was lest they get hurt. In the mafia, he held little care for himself and others. He taunted Chuuya and listened to Mori. The only change was that he made friends with someone who taught him things he'd never have learned otherwise. But he really was selfish, wasn't he? That selfishness from his brutality carried over even now. Building up these walls to close people out was selfish. He only ever could think about himself, right? That seemed to be what Kunikida thought. And Dazai didn't blame him. He was stupidly selfish. Never letting himself be seen by others. Dazai hadn't taken a breath since that sentence, forcing himself to suck one in through clenched teeth. "No." The word broke in his throat, "I don't, Kunikida." A stiff statement, voice wavering with held back fears and that past cold bubbling back to the surface.

“I beg to differ.” He slipped his glasses out of his pocket, pressing them to his face to look at Dazai clearly. Whether or not he believed him, Kunikida didn’t care. Dazai was a man patched together with blood and bandages, broken and remade so many times that the true Dazai might have been lost long ago. It’s a shame then, that he’d abandoned his rational train of thought for whatever frustrations seem to be bleeding through his logic and reasoning. He scrapes his teeth along the pen, feeling a bit of plastic give from the pressure he was putting into it. That thing was bound to give soon but he couldn’t bring himself to care enough. Tch. “Now that’s a fucking lie. You and I both know it, or else you wouldn’t be off getting hurt every couple of weeks for the sake of the agency.” He takes the pen out and points it at him with a glare. “You act like you’re some selfish bastard but then you turn around and let yourself be fucked up to help the rest of us. And now you go and vanish for three weeks and come back looking like the Port Mafia gave you fucking acupuncture! Do you realize what effect you leave on people when you do shit like that?”

As much as he wanted to protest again, Kunikida's eyes were on him. He wanted to calm down, but the next words smacked him with no mercy. Dazai flinched back, not expecting the words to hit him as hard as they did. He'd been expecting the opposite reaction from Kunikida, an agreement to his statement. He'd much rather be called selfish than told that he was lying. He'd much rather the accusation be one that he'd told himself time and time again. "Close." He managed, slowly forcing himself to relax. He felt on edge, tense from the statements thrown back and forth. He elected to go on, as if he hadn't reacted so harshly to the accusation. "I can be selfish still." He slowly, pushed his shoulders down, fingers uncurling from where they'd wrinkled the fabric of his pants. "It's selfish to go forcing all of you to take care of me when I come back hurt." He explained, voice still trembling slightly despite his best attempts to calm it down. Too vulnerable. Too much weakness shining through. He forced his voice to be still, displaying no emotions at all. "I don't think acupuncture is done with a scalpel." The statement was simple, hanging in the air between them. Kunikida could take that as he wished.

“Is that really what you’re focusing on right now? I can’t believe you.” He throws his hair over his shoulder so it’s out of his face, pointing the chewed pen at him as his eyes began to shine with unshed tears. “You didn’t force anyone you idiot. We chose to help you because we care about you whether you mean us to or not. Fucking—“ He cuts himself off and takes a breath, his body shuddering with the motion. “Don’t you realize what that does to us? Does to me? You think you aren’t worth shit but that’s never been true but you can’t see past your own nose to see otherwise. You think I don’t spend hours at night worrying if I’m gonna find your body in a ditch somewhere?!” He looks away from him and throws the pen as hard as he can, hearing it smack loudly on the wall and leaving a small dent behind. “Maybe I don’t want to be constantly wondering if one day you won’t come back! Maybe I just want us to have a normal fucking partnership where we don’t fucking dance around our problems because the other is too shitty of a person to try and understand the other! Isn’t that fucked?!” Kunikida cuts himself off twice more, squeezing his eyes shut and turning away from him with his hands over his ears as if he could silence the hot blood rushing in his veins. (edited)

The yelling did nothing for his numbness. If anything, it only pushed him back into himself, wanting to hide away again as if he were a child, scolded for the smallest things. His mind seemed to work overtime, and Dazai wanted to curl in on himself as painful memory after painful memory erupted in his mind. He'd only ever brought pain to those around him. Wherever he went, death followed. He didn't want that to happen to Kunikida. So he let him yell, reminiscent of the times he'd fallen back into this coldness before. It was an easy escape, slipping into this uncaring persona. It's not as if it truly mattered to anyone but himself. He'd grown up around pain, after all. A child, scolded for his cold eyes. A five year old, attacked by a dog and learning that others were kinder to him when he was hurt but were frightened when the pain did little to frighten him. A ten year old, numb from the pain of a world he'd been in for so little time. A fourteen year old, watching someone die in front of him after he'd been fished out of a river. A fourteen year old, learning that touching Elise made her disappear, but left him with Mori. A fifteen year old, compared to the one man he despised. Scolded for failed missions and punished accordingly. A sixteen-seventeen year old who rose to the top of a dangerous organization, growing numb to the pain and watching those he hurt yell at him. An eighteen year old, watching one of the few people he'd grown attached to die in his hands. A twenty-two year old, listening to his partner yell at him for his numbness. Hearing just how selfish he was. Hearing how shitty of a person he truly was. Numb because feeling was too much, numb because he couldn't stand to be hurt again. A twenty-two year old, hurting from the cold that had crept back into him. Hurting from being used again by a man he couldn't stand to be around. Hurting from the fact that he'd never be more than his prodigy. A demonic force with no humanity. .

9:19 PM

Dazai sunk back into the feeling of being numb, eyes nearly blank as he looked at Kunikida in front of him. His mouth and throat had all but gone dry, and he could hardly bring himself to speak. But he did. He forced himself to do so, speaking through the pain of everything. "Better me than you." He stated, voice barely above a whisper. Better him disappearing than Kunikida. Someone the agency actually needed. Someone who wasn't a shitty person and a shitty partner who did nothing but worry everyone around him. Dazai shivered, body jerking slightly as the cold seemed to spread back through his veins. It was what he deserved at this point. For being so damn selfish. It was a wonder he'd even pretended to think that Oda would be happy with where he was now. He stayed silent for another few moments before he managed to speak up. "Better me than any of you. I didn't want Atsushi in the same building as him. I didn't want you there. And I sure as hell was not about to give any of the other members over to Mori willingly." An explanation, but he didn't give the context. "It wasn't acupuncture. It was punishment. A job not perfectly done. The Demon Prodigy leaving behind one too many blood stains." He spat out the title like it was poison, coating his mouth harshly. "But I understand, Kunikida." Dazai forced himself to stand, pushing himself up on shaky legs. He stumbled as soon as he managed that, but stayed upright otherwise. "You think I don't care." The smile he gave him was completely false, saccharine and sour, bitter down to its core. "And maybe it's better that way. You won't get attached." He was standing, still trembling. He wasn't sure he could move, but he'd be damned if he didn't try to get out of his hair.

The mafia comment was originally an exaggeration. Turns out that was actually true. He managed to pick it out of the messy puddle he’d become, hands winding up into his hair and tugging harshly on the strands like they were his own puppet strings. The control freak didn’t have any control over this at all. Which is probably the most mortifying fact of the night. He blinked away the tears in his eyes, letting them fall freely down his face as he listened closely. He was hoping in vain that what he said would be disputed, that he wasn’t right in the slightest. Nope. A pipe dream. You think I don’t care. And maybe it’s better that way. Hah. That’s funny. He should have gave him that advice ages ago. That train left the station. Even though that bitter smile feels like biting down on a pill, making him want to recoil from the pain. The sting of rejection hurts more than any injury he’d sustained during his time at the agency, or even before that. He stands up too, pushing his glasses up his face and wiping at the stains on his face. “You’re too late. I already care about you too much, whether or not you feel the same. It’s fine if you don’t feel the same. I know it’s...extremely irrational and foolish of me to-to think otherwise. I’m going out for a moment.” He stands up and puts his hands in his pockets, slipping out the front door and closing it gently behind him. At least he tried to until he forgot he broke it. Uhm. He uses his discarded hairtie to hold the door shut. Enough to keep the cold out. (edited)

Dazai forced himself to stay stoic as Kunikida walked out, shaky legs nearly collapsing under him as the door shut -- or well, tried to shut. The words he'd said were replaying in his mind, just on a loop. Shitty person, selfish bastard, too late. Shitty person for not managing to seem like he cared. For his emotions being numbed by pain he couldn't control. He should have tried harder. Selfish bastard. Which, honestly, wasn't directed towards him, but he knew it was true nonetheless. Too late. Always too late. Too late to get his feelings across to Kunikida. Too late to say no to the mafia job. Too late to save the ones he loved. Thirty seconds too late for Oda. Dazai blinked, as if trying to will tears to the surface. He stayed in his place for a moment or two, eyes turning towards the door. He watched it cautiously, as if Kunikida would come back soon. He knew he'd ruined his chances of that, though. It was his own damn fault, for being so difficult after what was supposed to be a simple mission. If he'd actually managed to pull himself together, then this wouldn't have happened. He felt like he should be more emotional over the matter, but the chill in his bones wouldn't let up. Tears wouldn't spring to his eyes, and Dazai wondered if he'd ever actually been human in the first place. He'd been led to believe he had been at one point, but now it didn't seem possible in the slightest. He took a step towards his own room, and as he walked he had to catch himself against the door again. He was trembling, getting into his room and shutting the door harshly behind him. His back hit the wood of the door, and he slid down, wincing as he pressed against those wounds. With knees up on both sides of him, he put his elbows on his legs, hands tangling into his hair and tugging as he fought to keep himself together.

He understands why people enjoy alcohol. It's numbing effects would certainly benefit Kunikida right about now. He's never saw the appeal until now. Instead he would settle for the chilly night breeze to clear his head. Fuck. He felt so guilty. Kunikida had no right imposing all of his personal issues on his partner, especially when he's already been through enough mental strain from the mafia. What right did he have as a member of the agency to get mad at him? Everything he's done in this moment has been incorrect and cruel. That's what happens when you develop tunnel vision. You forget the details and the nuances that are needed in situations like this. The guild bites him like acid in his throat, and he presses his hands to his eyes to try and keep more frustrated tears from falling. It wasn't working though. He gave up after a moment, sitting down on the concrete and sobbing quietly into his black sleeves. No matter how much of a strong front he put up eventually that pressure would have to be released somehow. Being strong for everyone else's sake is an exhausting endeavor. So for now he would be weak and cry until he felt drained enough to continue. ... That would be a while, judging from how his sleeve is quickly getting soaked with saltwater. Time slowed down to an agonizing crawl, and by the time he finally felt normal again it could have been ages. Or it could have been mere minutes. His long legs are wobbly when he stands, feeling an ache in his bones that wasn't there before. Kunikida undoes the hair tie and comes back inside, redoing it to "close" the door. Even if he tiptoed around the house Dazai would probably hear them. Probably didn't want to see him either. But he at least had to apologize for being an actual asshole about everything.

Dazai had curled up on himself. He longed for the cathartic feeling that came with crying, to let all his emotions bubble up and spill over like a boiled pot, yet he couldn't manage it. Those tears didn't prick at his eyes, and he couldn't find it in himself to properly show those emotions, as much as his heart seemed to twist and be tugged with the guilt and anxiety at having hurt yet another person he cared for. He could almost hear Mori's voice in his mind, taunting as he told him that it was all Dazai could ever do. That every person he came into contact with would get hurt. It was who he was as a person -- no, not a person. It was who he was as a creature, unable to do any good and constantly trying to avoid the bad. He tugged a little more harshly on his hair, sucking in a sharp breath through his teeth as the feeling registered. He still felt numb, but the sharp tug on his scalp was something against the backdrop of pure nothing that was his emotions and feelings at the moment. He didn't expect Kunikida to come back, not at all. He expected his partner to leave without another word, and to leave him to fend for himself. He didn't know if he could stand being alone, but knew he probably had to. He pressed further against the door, and knew he'd be blocking it from being opened. It wasn't as if it mattered. He could probably be moved easily, and he'd welcome the sharp smack of the wood against his back.

Kunikida noticed that the door was shut. Yeah. Honestly? He'd do the same if he were in Dazai's position. Curl up in a small space and blot the rest of the world out. It's easy. Easier than admitting you fucked up and trying to fix it. He placed his hand against the door and pushed, noticing it was blocked. Yeah. Yeah. That's fine. He probably needed his space anyway. He places his ear against the door to listen closely, not hearing much. Instead of trying to force it open he just slid down to the floor and knocked gently on the wood. The texture under his knuckles felt weird, like his senses were all jumbled up into one big pile. "Hey-" The words catch in his throat and he coughs, hearing the hoarseness of his voice compared to his usual tone. Ugh, it feels like he swallowed the same shattered pieces Dazai was made of. "I'm sorry. For. Not just. What I said but...everything in general." He starts to say, shifting his legs on the ground anxiously. "I shouldn't have lashed out at you like that. It wasn't right of me to do that to you." Okay. That was a good start...Can he focus enough to get the rest of that sentence out?

Dazai's head snapped up as he heard the knock, the sound far too close to his head. His head hit the door, not exactly harshly but enough to be heard. He hardly noticed it, other than an odd sore feeling at the back of his head. He winced, trying to focus enough to listen in on what was being said. He was still a little out of it, but felt more numb than anything. He felt cold, despite the layers of bandages and clothing that he wore. That was the one constant in his life, however, despite the amount of other things that seemed to be constantly changing beneath him. The apology confused him, and he wondered if he was simply too distracted to understand. Kunikida had.. done nothing wrong to his knowledge. It was Dazai's fault that the pair was in this situation. After all, he'd accepted the job, and had chosen to do it. He was the one who had caused this whole mess. He opened his mouth to respond, throat feeling far too dry to speak. "..Didn't do anything." He tried to get out, harsh thoughts flooding his mind again. It was normal to treat Dazai poorly, so why would he apologize for something he was used to? Hell, why would he apologize for something that was deserved?

"This whole..." He waved his hand in the air. More to himself than anything. "Blow up..melt down. Situation. It had nothing to do with the mission, and you've been through enough already. It wasn't my place to stand on some morale high ground and yell at you as if that would magically fix anything." Kunikida straightens his legs out as he talks, no longer struggling with the heavy fog that he was tackling earlier. Everything was clear now. Too clear! It hurt to look at such sharp details knowing he was in the wrong. He knows Dazai better than anyone. Well. Anyone alive. That's why this situation became so bad in the first place. "I don't want to be another person who treats you like shit. I'm trying to be someone else. Something different. Clearly I didn't do that right today." He sighs. "And I'm not going to dress it up like I was in the right because I care about you either. It was fucked up of me to do that and I'm sorry that I lost my cool like that."

Dazai's fingers curled a little tighter into his hair, trying to ground himself with another sharp tug. His mind still felt clouded over and numb, and he was hardly able to keep himself together throughout the minimal conversation he was having with Kunikida. His mind was elsewhere entirely, still focused on words he'd heard and told himself recently. "'S fine." Was what he managed, trying to accept Kunikida's apology. it was far easier said than done, particularly with how heavy his mind felt. He wanted to curl back into himself again, to sit silently on the floor for another few days until he felt like pulling the pieces of his mask back together. For now, his mind kept yelling at him, pulling in words from Mori, and Chuuya, and Kunikida, and himself. He bit on the inside of his cheek absently, not drawing blood but just enough to sting. He didn't bother to say much else, knowing that if he stayed silent long enough Kunikida might leave. For how long, though? He didn't know. He didn't even know if he wanted to be alone (truthfully, that was scarier) but it was familiar, and it was what he was used to. Same with the harsh words from Kunikida. He'd been used to such things, and the apology didn't feel necessary, not when he'd just been expecting harsh words again.

"It's not." He shakes his head and thumbed it gently against the door. "You aren't obligated to forgive me just because I apologized. Take your time. I'll be here for you, as I always have." He wishes he could just cross this small space and reassure him that he didn't hate him. But that would be unnecessarily cruel. Yelling at him in one moment and soothing him just moments later didn't feel right. Unless it'd been longer and he had no idea. Either way, the idea left a sour taste in his mouth. And yet it was the first thing that came to mind to try and repair the rickety bridge that the two of them built for years. So much for that whole speech about understanding each other now. He can kiss that one goodbye. He left his back against the door, pulling his notebook from where it was left on the floor and flipping through the pages, the sound of paper and black ink blurring together. It was soothing in some strange way.

Dazai stayed silent after that, unable to find his voice again. He only curled in further on himself, scrunching his eyes shut and attempting to force away the words that wormed their way back into his mind and couldn't seem to leave him alone. He knew the explosion had been a mix of a lot of things, but damn if Dazai didn't blame it all on himself. If only he'd been a little more observant and cautious. If only he didn't feel so damn weak and numb right now. He fingers dug into his scalp more than tugging his hair, fighting the urge to just zone out completely again. Not right now. Not in the middle of something. "Didn't tell you because I knew you'd be mad." His voice felt weaker than normal in the quiet air between them, muffled slightly by the door. Kunikida was one of the few people that knew him well, and he'd told Fukuzawa that he was one of the people that couldn't know about the mission. If only because Dazai knew that he would have immediately protested. That he'd have recognized the dangers of such a thing immediately. However, Dazai had cared more about the information. Even if it had ended worse for him, he didn't regret it for one moment. Not when it'd helped a case. A few days of numbness and pain were a small price to pay when most days were painful anyway.

Kunikida occupied himself in the silence by reading some of his old notes. Their was all kinds of stuff in here, thankfully they were all marked. Letter drafts, to-do lists, backup weapons. It was all here for him to access whenever he needed it. It's a shame that his mind wasn't as organized as his notebook. He turned his head to press his temple against the door, finding it easier to listen to Dazai in case he said anything. He almost didn't catch it. The comment stings like alcohol on an open wound, though... he kind of brought it upon himself in the end. "Because it was dangerous for you to do that. Not even physically at that point. They fuck with your mind..." He bangs his head gently against the door. "Though it's all over now. So even if I angry at you, it wouldn't matter anymore. I. Really do. Worry about you. Genuinely."

"Don't." The simple word left him quickly, almost begging Kunikida not to show any sort of worry for him. It was illogical, and as far as he was concerned he assumed Kunikida would know better than that. He should know better than that. To worry for someone who was already so broken. Someone who hardly knew who he was most days, and put it all behind a mask. Dazai wondered why he was the one illogical thing in Kunikida's life. A mismatched gear, only slowing down the machine with his awkward and clunky turns. He had no business being here, and yet no one seemed to want to replace him. That was the main issue, he thought. That no one thought to make it better on themselves by just dropping him as he expected. "It wasn't that dangerous." A lie, but an easy one. "Three weeks, in and out. Infiltration. Easy to hide in the crowd." He kept it hidden that he had gone to be an executive again. Working directly under Mori's orders. He didn't think Kunikida would take too kindly to that much.

“Little too late for that.” Kunikida grumbled in response, feeling his heart sink farther than before. Even if he didn’t want to it was already happening, had been for a long time. He never learned to switch off certain emotions like Dazai had. Maybe he should start learning. He slumped against the door with a sigh, focusing on the man behind it rather than anything else at the moment. Not that it would lead to anything. He’d had made that perfectly clear ages ago and yet Kunikida couldn’t take a hint to save his life. “It was dangerous. I’m not that dense. Anything involving those bastards is dangerous.” He didn’t need to know the whole story to know how it fucked him up. There’s enough evidence left on the floor to connect the dots. Ugh. He wishes he didn’t open his stupid mouth to begin with, or else none of this would have happened. The man placed his calloused hand against the door, so soft that he hoped he wasn’t heard. How miserable.

Guilt began to settle into his bones, easily slipping in alongside the cold. The guilt did nothing to help, only weighing him down as he tried to focus on Kunikida's words. Too late. He winced again, mind rushing back to the times he'd been late before. Those never seemed to leave his mind, not even now, when Kunikida hadn't meant to bring those words to the forefront of his mind. "It.." His voice felt dangerously close to breaking, even as he sat here. He supposed that was more the fault of his own emotions than anything else. He couldn't quite blame it on exhaustion when he was doing little to continue to exhaust himself in this scenario. "He..." Dazai trailed off, slowly forcing his fingers to uncurl from where they'd tightened into his hair. He took a shaky breath, eyes scrunching shut once more. His fingers pressed into his temples instead, trying to minimize any damage he'd be doing. "I'm sorry." He spoke, voice barely hitting a whisper. He wasn't even sure if Kunikida could hear that, so he repeated it again, this time slightly louder. "I'm sorry.."

“Dazai—?” Kunikida curled his fingers into a loose fist and pressed it against his chest, trying to will away the fear that was clawing it’s way through him again. It wouldn’t get him anywhere so there was no point feeling it. That’s how that works right? Eliminate what’s not useful and keep what is? He’s not sure if he likes that idea. For now he just pressed his body against the door, knocking on it gently to signal that he hadn’t gone anywhere. “It’s okay. I-I’m not mad at you for going on that mission. You came back and that’s the. The part that matters, in the end. You don’t have to apologize..”

Dazai pulled his knees closer to his chest, trying to even his breathing. It seemed to be getting more unsteady the more he sat here, the more his mind decided to drift further and further back. He took in a sharp breath, far too much in his chest for a brief moment before he breathed out. What was he supposed to say to that? He wasn't just sorry about the mission, no. There was so much more. So much more that had built up to this point. "I'm sorry." He managed. Not just to Kunikida either. He was so close to breaking, and he was so glad that Kunikida was on the other side of the door. He didn't think he could stand to break in front of him. Hell, he could probably push back a breakdown. Just for long enough to count.

“You really don’t have to apologize, Dazai. It’s okay. Er. To not...be okay. If that makes sense..” He shifts and relaxed against the door, closing his eyes and listening to the occasional rustle of fabric from the other side. There was always something between them, though this time it was far more literal. Kunikida found himself being okay with that. He didn’t have the right to demand the same rawness that he can achieve. It’s far from easy being honest when you’re raised to be a liar. So with that logic? This is okay. This is enough. A million things left unsaid, but he’s kind of fine with that now. In the end, Dazai is Dazai and he’ll do whatever he wants no matter how Kunikida feels about it. That’s fine too.

Dazai sucked in another horribly shaky breath, forcing himself to stay somewhat still. He winced as he pressed his fingers a little harsher into his temples, finding it somewhat grounding. He didn't quite hear Kunikida, another apology resting on the tip of his tongue before he bit it back. His teeth dug into the side of his cheek, and he winced as the metallic taste of blood filled his mouth. He couldn't break. Not now. He tried to force himself to stand, bracing his hand against the door. It hit the wood with a soft thump, and Dazai struggled to get up. He was trembling, and soon enough he was back down on the floor with another thud against the ground. He couldn't be bothered to try and get back up, knees pulled back to his chest. Time and a place for everything, Dazai. Now was not the time to be forcing others to deal with his own self pitying bullshit. The time for that didn't exist, as far as he was concerned. Despite the fact that he wanted to be closer to Kunikida, that he wanted that contact that he barely ever managed to get, he couldn't bring himself to ask. Even thinking about asking it was out of the question, and he chased the thoughts away quickly.

He closed his eyes and listened to the shuffling, in case his partner wanted to say anything. The silence between them was tense with their confused emotions, but it was better than having an argument about anything. He scratched at the cover of his notebook to stay calm so his brain didn’t come up with more reason to be freaking the hell out. He hummed in a questioning tone as the thunk from the other side reached his ear. It sounded loud compared to their hushed conversation but in reality it was probably just as quiet. “Dazai..?” He reaches up the to the doorknob while still on the floor, turning it and letting his body weight try to open it.

Dazai's weight was still against the door, keeping it at least mostly closed. He'd probably shift slightly at the slight push, but not enough to let it swing open completely. He was a little busy to comment on it, mind elsewhere. He did look up as the door shifted him, however, confusion crossing his expression as he looked up at the doorknob. "Hm?" He asked, just as quiet in response to Kunikida. Had he done something to warrant that concern? He didn't quite know, nor did he care to know. He curled in on himself, fingers curling back into his hair. They didn't tug this time, just pushing through it to give himself something to do. Slowly, he forced himself to shift away from the door, leaning back against the bedframe as he had been the first time Kunikida had entered.

Kunikida forced himself to stand up on wobbly legs, feeling pins and needles run down his calves from sitting in that awkward position for so long. It would have been easier to just crawl, but even now he had far too much dignity to let himself do that. If Dazai had crashed to the ground again he'd at least like to know about it. He turned the door again and placed force on it until whatever was barring it seemed to let up. His head poked in first and let his eyes adjust to the darkness. Only when he can see Dazai's faint outline does he come inside and shut the door behind him. "Are you okay?" He asked again, walking over and sitting in front of him. His partner looks like a doll with their strings cut, and the sight pains him. The man scooted forward and held his arms out. He waits for a moment. A long, tense moment. Then he tugs him forward by his shirt and into Kunikida's arms.

Dazai had curled back in on himself, feeling far more than exhausted. He wasn't doing anything that would justify that, yet it still felt like he'd just run a marathon. Maybe then he'd be too tired to feel though. He looked at Kunikida as he sat down, blinking once and then twice as he looked at him. Was he okay? He didn't know how to answer that. It was so difficult to quantify his own emotions just as is. But to another person it was even more difficult. That was only made more difficult by who it was, a partner who he had a hard time making himself vulnerable to. He wanted to answer, but just stayed silent for the time being. He didn't have an answer, not to a question like that. He looked down at Kunikida's arms, and then back up at him, and waited for something to happen. He hadn't expected anything to come of it, not if he didn't initiate it. He fell forward as he was tugged, with little resistance to it, and the contact was shocking despite the little preparation he had for it. He was still for a brief moment, leaning into him. He still fell into him, though, tensing at the sudden feeling of himself against Kunikida. The warmth of another person. One hand came up to brace itself against his chest, and he gently grabbed onto his shirt for support. Wrinkled fabric be damned. It was nigh immediately that he began to tremble, a choked sob ripping its way from his throat as he hid his face into his shirt, just below his collarbone. The show of emotions had been a long time coming, an amalgamation of so many emotions and feelings that had grown too large for his walls and his heart. (edited)

Kunikida felt the floor biting into his knees but ignored it in favor of watching Dazai. He offered him a shy smile, feeling his face heat up with a combined cocktail of fear and affection. Laying his heart out on the table like this was terrifying! But in order to rebuild a sense of trust, this was a good first step. He's patient, waiting for Dazai to make a decision on his own. Not that he expected him to. Not really. He's picked up that Dazai doesn't usually. That thought is what makes him reach forward to tug him into his arms in the first place. Dazai flops into his chest and he can almost hear his heart flutter, placing a gentle hand on his head and fluffing his freshly-washed hair. Then the crying started. Oh how his heart broke for him. A shiver ran down his spine as the shock hit him, but he didn't let that show at the moment. For now he just pulled him as close as he could and let him sob onto his shirt. He needed to let go at least once in his adult life. Whether it would have been along or with Kunikida as an assistant. (Though he had to admit, hugging his partner like this was very comforting)

Dazai couldn't help but melt into his warmth, the contact something he hadn't felt in so long. Sure, the ADA was kind, but none of them were really touchy. Hell, the most he'd gotten was Kunikida throttling him, and even then he hardly could call that kind. He swore he could feel the cold metal of the scalpel whenever he closed his eyes, a gloved hand, cold against his back instead of warm. Warm like Kunikida, with his arms wrapped around him as they were. A warmth he hadn't felt in so long. He couldn't even tell if it was warming him, body shaking as he cried into his shirt. His hand only gripped tighter onto the fabric, finding it the one thing that was grounding him in this moment. He didn't know if he'd be able to do this alone, not when his mind was so full. He couldn't seem to quiet the thoughts, the sobs coming from so many different things, and he could barely manage to feel them much less articulate them in the quiet air between them. Mainly it was the mission, but a thousand other emotions crowded his mind, affections and care that he had no way of showing, pain from his past and the things he'd experienced, masks that hid his actual feelings and emotions, and most of all -- the contact. Contact that simultaneously felt like too much and not enough at the same time. He didn't know how long he cried, it could have been hours for all he knew (it was probably less than a few minutes), but eventually the sobs began to trail off. He hiccuped as he sat there, pressed as close as he could manage, not wanting to leave his arms. It was another moment before he managed to speak, face still buried into his shirt in an attempt to hide himself. "M'Sorry." He managed against him, making no move to get off of him quite yet.

He was cold in his arms, small and curled up like a sad little lump. Though Kunikida can't really judge, considering how much he'd been through. He squeezed him in his arms and adjusted on the floor so Dazai could use him like a crutch. Even with the water soaking his shirt he couldn't bring himself to be bothered by it. It was good to feel needed. Sure the floor might become uncomfortable for them eventually but in the mean time he wasn't worried about it. He listened closely to his partner until he trailed off into silence. Kunikida took his hand from the top of his head and rubbed his back in what he hoped came off as soothing. When emotions are running high like this, it was hard to tell what was the right move and what would trigger another outburst. "You don't have to be sorry. I've said that already and I'll say it a thousand times more until you believe me." He ran his hand up his back and ruffled his hair, bending forward slightly to hide him better. Sad people liked small spaces, right? That's how it was with children? Ah. Maybe not everyone works like that.

Dazai shifted slightly in his arms as the crying began to taper off, the arm gripping onto his shirt loosening and dropping to wrap around his middle. It was a bit awkward given his position, but he did want to lean into him. He didn't want to move away from him, not with how comfortable he was against him. A little longer couldn't hurt. Kunikida didn't seem to mind, at least, he hadn't voiced his discomfort with him clinging onto him like this. He pulled back slightly, so his face wasn't buried in Kunikida's shirt. He grimaced as he saw the wet spots on his shirt, before leaning back into him. He didn't bother to hide his face this time, not yet at least. He just wanted to get comfortable. He felt so exhausted, his eyes fluttering shut. "You're having to deal with this.." He muttered, curling a little closer to him. His breathing began to even out as he rested close to him, just taking in the warmth. Kunikida could shove him off if he really wanted to.

"I've dealt with you doing crazier things, this is nothing to me." He chuckled quietly. "I'm glad I can be here for you." Kunikida shifted so Dazai could be comfortable, smiling softly as his tired eyes closed as he borrowed his chest to use as a pillow. When he revealed his face he went in with his dry sleeve and wiped some of the tears streaming down his face. This whole thing was extremely unusual. But not unwelcome in any way. If Dazai trusts him enough to show a moment of emotion with him, then that means leaps and bounds to his blonde partner. Sure, he could shove him off. But why the hell would he? This was the most progress they'd ever made when it came to their personal lives outside of missions and general buffoonery. Who knows, maybe they'll both finally pass out and this'll all be forgotten in the morning. Hopefully not. Kunikida wasn't going to think about the future at the moment. For once.

Dazai let his eyes stay shut as Kunikida wiped away some of the tears, leaning slightly into the contact. It wasn't exactly what he'd expected when Kunikida had stepped in, but he wasn't protesting. It was rather nice, once he managed to accept it. He leaned against him again, just using him as somewhat of a pillow for the time being. He stifled a yawn, refusing to move his arms from where he'd looped them around Kunikida. A.. little longer couldn't hurt. He tried to justify. If he just stayed here for a few more minutes, then he could move. He could leave Kunikida alone and stop bothering him. "It's stupid." He muttered, already beginning to drift off. He was out in no time at all, trying to curl in closer to the warmth. Maybe he could learn to like this. To like the kind contact of another person. Maybe only if it was Kunikida. He wasn't sure quite yet. He didn't think on that for long, asleep on him soon enough. That was an issue for a more lucid Dazai.

Kunikida isn't going anywhere either, not when he's got his crush and long-time business partner chilling on him like a bed. Not just because he's currently thriving but because Dazai needed some kind of positive contact before he went absolutely insane. No matter how much he tries to deny it or push away his ugliest aspects, he's still human at the end of the day. Even if he doesn't believe that's true and actively rejects even the slightest suggestion of being human. That's something Kunikida would never understand. Nor did he...want to. He likes being ugly. In a metaphorical sense. All the messy emotions and torment and stress he suffers through reminds him that there's still things worth hurting for. Hm. That was a complicated train of thought. He'd get back to that. "It's not stupid.." He runs his fingertip along Dazai's jawline again and noticing how quiet he'd gotten. He's...passed out. Entirely! He sleeping! His face heats up instantly, turning quietly into a bright red fool as he continued holding him. Too flushed to move yet neither of them should be passing out on the floor. So he does what he'd been doing this whole night. The man leans back carefully and scooped his sleeping partner into his arms, carrying him over to the bed and laying down with him so there was a minimal amount of Dazai shaking. ..... Now he's too flustered to sleep. He turns his head into the pillow and tries to calm down, resisting the urge to make a strained noise in his throat. Eventually his blood seems to cool and he passes out without realizing it, glasses askew thanks to the pillow and blonde hair an absolute mess.

Dazai's sleep wasn't as restful as he might have hoped. The same nightmares still seemed to bother him, not letting him have a few hours on his own. It was part of the reason he avoided sleeping for so long, the other not wanting to be vulnerable and let his guard down for even half a moment. Still, he woke up a few hours later a lot more rested than he had been in a while. He didn't want to move when he first woke, but he'd already moved upon waking, so a little more adjustment wouldn't hurt him. He'd jolted awake halfway through some nightmare, a little strangled noise clawing its way from the back of his throat. He was quick to quiet it, eyes shooting open to dart around the room. They landed on Kunikida, who he was still half tangled with in his sleep. He paused, letting himself stay close as he processed it. This wasn't good. He didn't deserve the contact, he didn't deserve to have someone caring about him so much. He'd let it happen in a moment of vulnerability, a brief moment of letting his walls down. That had been his first mistake. He let himself fall back into the pillow, eyes fluttering shut once more. He shouldn't have let it happen. But.. he could deal a little longer. He could always make some excuse in the morning and promise it wouldn't happen again, but... His eyes darted up to Kunikida, just taking in the sight of him like this. He shifted, pushing down those emotions that swam to the surface. Not the time. He couldn't get attached (even if he was, objectively, already extremely attached to his partner. After all, he'd been pushing away those thoughts for ages), so this had to be a one time thing. He moved one arm to pluck Kunikida's glasses off of his face, setting them onto some table. He resisted the urge to run his fingers through Kunikida's hair, just to see what it was like. Time and a place Dazai. After a moment, he laid back down with Kunikida. Another few minutes and he'd be alright.

12:50 AM

It was far too early to wake up anyway, not to mention he could probably do with a little bit more sleep. That was the reason, right? Not wanting to wake Kunikida.

Kunikida seemed to have knocked himself out now that all the emotions and drama had been resolved to a point. He's also generally exhausted constantly so his subconscious had jumped at the opportunity to sleep in for once. His grip on Dazai had become lax, but not enough to let him go free. His fists gently held onto the fabric of his clothes and chase the feeble warmth that he gave off. Good for Dazai that his partner also doubles as a furnace. He always seems to run too warm for his own good. Even though he...usually wears two layers and pants. It's strange how he never overheats. When he moved to remove his glasses, the blonde shifts slightly in the sheets, able to snuggle into the pillow better without the offending bit of metal in the way. Hopefully he wasn't blushing anymore. He might be. Unfortunately for him, his subconscious also doesn't suffer from the same embarrassment his conscious self does. That's what causes him to shuffle closer to Dazai when he sits up to re-adjust himself. Only two things on the brain. Snoozing and keeping the comfortable thing next to him.

The heat was a nice contrast to his normal state, typically running cold at all times. The layers and the bandages did little to stave off the chill, and pressing close to Kunikida like this let him feel a little less cold. Not that he'd ever admit that aloud. Not in a million years. After all, this was just out of necessity right...? Some accidental thing that would never happen again. As weird as it was to not want that outcome, he knew it was true. He distracted himself by focusing back on Kunikida. Cute. The thought flickered through his mind without a filter as he looked at Kunikida, and he couldn't help himself from reaching up to gently brush his hair out of his face. He kept a close eye, ensuring that he wouldn't wake while he was doing that. That would be mortifying, and would only further cement his own weakness into his mind. He shoved the thought away quickly. He couldn't be thinking of those things. As Kunikida moved closer, he managed to settle back down into the bed. It was comfortable like this, and he let his eyes shut again as he tried to force himself to drift off. That was far easier said than done, and he spent a while longer kept up by the fear of nightmares taking over again. He managed eventually, drifting back off into that same light and uneasy sleep from before. As long as no one saw him wake up frightened, he'd be alright. He trusted that Kunikida would sleep through it. Even if the sun was already rising by the time he drifted back off. He had to trust that he simply wouldn't wake up in fear. (edited)

Lucky for Dazai that he didn't suffer from the same bouts of nightmares and awful sleeping habits. Kunikida was still fast asleep, his nose twitching slightly when he felt something ghost over his face. He didn't wake. He snoozing. A soft smile ghosts over his lips before it was snatched again by the sea of his dreams. Unless he's going anywhere other than laying back down, which Kunikida will refuse by simply scooting over into his space again whenever he tries to shimmy away. And this bed isn't really made for two people. So Dazai's kind of stuck with this strange clingy version of Kunikida until he wakes up tomorrow. Which he does...eventually. He doesn't sleep in for terribly long after the sun rises, but considering his usual rigid schedule sleeping past sunrise is usually a crime for him. Kunikida feels the feeble sunlight coming through the curtains and twists around in bed, finally managing to let go of whatever he was hanging onto in the depths of sleep. What's going on? When did he even pass out to begin with?? Is that a flashlight or sunlight???

Dazai felt something shifting, a gentle frown flickering across his lips for the briefest of moments as he lost the warmth around him. Unconsciously, he pressed closer to it, as if asking for that comfort back. He wasn't awake, so he couldn't really control his actions, but he'd be upset if anyone had to see this side of him. Far too needy and clingy. His slight movements had done little for his appearance. His clothes were wrinkled, and his hair was a mess, back to its horribly fluffy state of being now that it had been washed. It hadn't been long between his drifting off again and Kunikida's waking, and given how light he typically slept something began to drag him out from his sleep again. He didn't fully wake up, but he was awake enough to recognize that he was losing his warmth. His mind didn't seem all too happy about that, a little noise escaping from the back of his throat as he curled in on himself a little bit, trying to make up for Kunikida moving away from him. It wasn't a whine, per se, but it was a little noise of complaint -- probably more akin to a hum of displeasure than anything else.

He’d been sharing the bed with Dazai the whole night?! Never mind all of his other questions, that was the only thing on his mind now. Everything else could be figured out later. Kunikida looked to his side where he was curled up and he had to cover his mouth to not make any weird sounds. His teeth grit together from the bolt of anxiety that coarser through him and he froze, waiting for his tired brain to catch up with the staccato rhythm of his heart. After a second the shock had passed and it left him feeling almost shy in its place. The blonde shimmied back into his spot, trying not to shift Dazai around in the process. It’s not often his partner gets any sleep that lasts longer than an hour, so he’ll just wait until he wakes up again. It’s easier when he’s asleep. Kunikida isn’t sure if he’s prepared to deal with whatever bout of teasing comes from his flushed cheeks and wide eyes that have no explanation. His hair was fluffed even more now that he’d been sleeping on it, the dark brown strands sticking every which way. It was a nice look on him, since Dazai was never the type to be all neat and put together anyway. He wanted to ruffle the strands and mess it up even more but like hell he was risking scaring him. Not that... he had an excuse to do that either. The pillow was warm and he let himself sink into it, turning to hide half of his face in the plushness. Do not perceive him.

Dazai jolted awake soon after. He had just managed to drift back off into sleep, and the nightmares gripped him quickly. Horrible, horrible visions that crept into his mind and wouldn't let him rest. Not at all. He jolted, sitting up rather quickly and managing to avoid hitting himself on anything. One hand moved up to his throat, and he tugged harshly on the bandages there as if trying to give himself a way to breathe. They loosened slightly, and he took in a sharp shaky breath. Dazai perceived him pretty soon after this. It was a brief moment after he tried to calm his still racing heart, his hand moving so it was resting on his chest as he forced it back to normal. No need to panic, it was just a dream. A dream couldn't hurt him. No, not at all. A dream wasn't real. There was no one there, there was no- He seemed to flinch a bit, as if feeling something on his shoulders. Cold running down his spine. He glanced cautiously at his shoulder, relaxing slightly at the sight of nothing. Then his eyes turned to Kunikida. God, he was close, and Dazai seemed to freeze a bit as he processed the small amount of space between them. He swallowed down his nerves, still a little on edge from everything that had happened. Slowly, he managed to breathe, expression relaxing into one of his normal grins. "Oh? You're all red, is Kunikida having filthy dreams?" The taunting words came easy from him, an easy way to mask any of the fear or confusion that had just flickered across his expression.

Kunikida flinched as Dazai shot up, bringing the pillow closer to his face as he watched him. This certainly wasn't the first time he had witnessed him being yanked out of the dream world, but he'd never seen it up close before. He didn't deserve to have to go through that every night. ..Do Not Perceive Him. Some of the runaway strands of blonde fell into his face and he was thankful for the extra coverage. God. Why had he thought being so close was a good idea? He was starting to regret it now. He opened his mouth to say something, but instead of words coming out he just coughed quietly. This was...Something! Yep. Mhm! He feels frozen in place even though he's currently curled up in a warm space with his partner. A space that they really shouldn't be sharing in the first place! Not that he was going to stop doing it now that it started. Dazai wouldn't look between the lines, not when he's as self-deprecating as he was. "I feel like I just got hit by a truck. What's your excuse?" He groans, finally sitting up and brushing the hair out of his face.

Dazai pouted teasingly at Kunikida, grateful for the easy conversation. It was a way to avoid how he really felt, and he silently thanked Kunikida for not pressing him on the nightmare. He didn't think he could recount it. Not now. Not so soon after everything else had happened. That was no guarantee for the future, however, and he knew he'd likely be questioned later about the job at the very least. "Oh that's not an answer. No dreams?" The word was emphasized, and he shot a wink at Kunikida teasingly as he flopped back onto the bed, "I slept wonderfully, thank you for asking. Shame I had to wake up though." Dazai stretched, making no move to sit up properly. "When did I get into a bed?"

Kunikida picks up the pillow and gives Dazai a good whack on the shoulder. "It's none of your business what I was dreaming about!" His face only seems to get more red as he says that, hugging it close to him after giving him a good bonk. He pulls in his long legs and crosses them on the bed. Ahh. About that...Uhm. He glanced away from him towards the door. "I..." He coughed again. "I-I brought you. To bed. I figured it'd be better than sleeping on the uh, on the floor." There was no straight way to justify his actions. This is a mess.

Dazai laughed as he was whacked on the shoulder, his smile wavering slightly. It wasn't the most genuine laugh, but hey it counted -- right? It was a lot of effort to keep up this persona, but the whack only reminded him of what he normally got from Kunikida. One time thing worked really well to describe the contact. On both ends, probably. Kunikida would go back to only smacking him around, and Dazai would go back to locking himself away. "Awe. Does that mean it was about me?" He asked, tilting his head and looking up at Kunikida. "I'm sure, given that you were cuddling me." He hummed, tensing slightly as he prepared himself to be hit again. He really had to get used to the pain again, especially if he was going back to work soon. He fought quickly to hide the flicker of his smile again. "Why'd you carry me to bed anyway?" His mind was everywhere, and he kept alert, in case Kunikida were to try and smack him again. The usual, really. Better than having to be honest again.

Kunikida's blush didn't seem to be going anywhere, especially with Dazai's laugh filling the warm space between them. That combined with the little bit of sunlight coming in through the curtains and their current state of disarray, made him feel like he was still dreaming. He swung the pillow and gave him another whack. There wasn't enough force in it to hurt, especially since it was a pillow and not his fists. But the motion was familiar and he felt a little more normal when he did. "You can make all the assumptions you want! It's not anything you need to know!!" The pillow is shoved onto the bed and he rests both of his hands on top of it. "I...I carried you to bed because I wanted to. That's all. I-I figured it'd be the right thing to do. And I couldn't just leave you there on the. On the floor." He drums his fingers on the pillow, trying to will away the blush on his face.

Dazai flinched back as the pillow hit him, willing himself to mask that up quickly with a shake of his head. No need to show that it affected him. Not when everything else seemed to be going just fine. Instead, he pouted at his partner, making no move to sit up just yet. Too much effort, too much to do right now. He could get up another time. For now, however, he was a little too willing to sink back into himself. Hopefully Kunikida wouldn't be around to see it again. One time was more than enough for anyone. Hell, he half expected Kunikida to just. Stop trying to care after this whole experience. "Mm. So it wasn't a dirty dream? Sad." He sighed, a little dramatic as he did so, tossing back and forth the idea of teasing him a little more about the second part. He was only hurting himself with this, knowing that he'd be making sure that Kunikida never did it again. Kunikida deserved better than someone like him anyway, so he might as well. "Mmn? So you decided to cuddle with me?" He asked, letting his eyes shut as he tried to relax a little more. He seemed a little more tense, just slightly on edge still.

"No, It wasn't dirty!" He huffs and crosses his arms, a pout evident on his features as Dazai settled back into the bed. Giving away that kind of information would kill whatever feeble chances Kunikida has of ending up in this situation again. Not that he won't be thinking about it for the next year and a half. Kunikida sputtered on his sentence, several worlds colliding in his brain and leaving him with nothing to rebuttal with. His sweaty hand came up and covered his mouth to try and reset his brain. Okay. Okay just. Calm down for a second. Say words. That actually mean something. ... Okay when he meant say words he didn't mean get rid of all of them. Suddenly his head felt very empty, looking Dazai up and down with a shocked expression. He could just be out with it. In his own brutally honest way. Though that probably wouldn't go over well considering how last night went. "Yeah. I did. I-I you. Uh. You didn't seem to mind."

"Shame. Maybe it'd help you loosen up." A grin flickered across his lips as he said as much, voice teasing once more. He wondered how 'well' he'd have to appear before Kunikida left him alone. He could probably take a few more days on his own, sinking back into that numbness. It wasn't comforting by any means, but it was familiar. It'd let him wallow in his own miserable feelings before he had to face the agency again. Kunikida had gone silent, and he opened up an eye to look up at him to make sure he was alright. He looked shocked- what had he said again? He wasn't entirely sure why Kunikida was so shocked until he answered. Ah. Right. The cuddling after he'd passed out on him. "I didn't." He hummed, letting his eye shut again. He paused a moment, deciding how much he wanted to expand upon that. "Not used to it. Was expecting to be hit!" Little too bright for what he was saying, but hey, it was true.

"I wouldn't have to hit you if you weren't such a pest!!" He shouts, huffing out a hot breath of air. His words held no real weight to them. They were dropping back into that familiar tone of cursing out Dazai every five minutes because he can't conduct himself to save his life. Kunikida clicks his tongue to make a sound, trying to arrange his thoughts in a way that he could convey them without making a mess. It would be easy if he could just say what was on his mind! But no! Because Dazai would just make fun of him and the sting of rejection hurts! That's why he's hidden these feelings away for so long in the first place even if they're driving him nuts! He rubs some sleep from his eyes with a soft groan of discomfort. He felt so groggy, and all this confusion wasn't helping. Ugh.. "If you didn't mind it then there's ah. Not a problem then. Probably do it again." ... "Did I say that out loud-"

Dazai's jaw tightened as Kunikida shouted at him, trying to will himself to grow used to the angry words again. It was easier said than done, especially with the comfort of Kunikida's kindness earlier. He almost wished he could have that back. But, if this was more comfortable for Kunikida then he wouldn't complain or try and change it. What he wanted didn't really matter in the end, not when there were others he'd rather listen to. Dazai's gaze snapped over to Kunikida when he spoke, trying to push down the shocked expression that crossed his face. He managed to hide it soon enough, instead just tilting his head slightly again to question Kunikida. "Mhm. That was aloud. What, does Kunikida want to cuddle?" He was expecting some vehement denial, some angry words. He'd already prepared himself well for that level of rejection. It was what he deserved. "Now why, I wonder, would you want that?"

Kunikida met Dazai’s gaze with that same shocked expression, ducking his head so he wouldn’t continue ogling his red face. Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck f— Once a crack appears in a dam, it’s only a matter of time before that small crack spreads up and creates a flood. Kunikida had accidentally created that crack in the concrete. How far would that fracture travel, he wondered. “Dazai!” He shouts and shoves his flushed face into the pillow, refusing to answer his questions at the moment. Kunikida stays in that position for a moment and pulls the pillow down enough to look at him, keeping the bottom half of his face covered. “I...” He shivers despite the warmth of the blankets. “Maybe I do! If you’ve got a problem with that then you should say it right now! Maybe I think it’s nice!” (edited)

Dazai's brows shot up as he caught the rush of color on Kunikida's face. Was he that flustered by a simple question? He'd have thought that he would have rejected the statement a lot more calmly. Especially since he deserved better than someone like Dazai. He still laughed as Kunikida scolded him, the sound forced out as he tried to push away those feelings of inadequacy. They always seemed to creep back in and he wished they'd simply leave him alone. He didn't seem to be having much luck with that. He paused at the next statement, however, not letting the confusion that wanted to show cross his face. Why would Kunikida ever want to be that close to someone like him? He slipped back into his habits easily in order to taunt Kunikida, despite the questions that wouldn't leave his mind. "Oh? No one said it was an issue! But that's not an answer, Kunikida! C'mon. Why would you want that?" He really was just ruining his chances, wasn't he? (edited)

"...Because I...want, to? That is my answer, Dazai." Ah. Great! Now he feels stupid for even considering the idea in the first place! Kunikida glares at him through his glasses, but it's easy to tell there was no fire behind it. His skin crawled with goosebumps under his shirt and a knot in his stomach that he wasn't sure if he could untangle even if he picked up yoga. He cleared his throat and set the pillow down again, pulling the fabric covering gently with his hands as the cold clawed its way into his bones. He thought he'd manage to work past that after yesterday's mess but apparently not! Doubt is real and it comes in all forms.

Dazai forced himself to sit up, despite the temptation to just lay here for the rest of the day creeping into his mind. He tugged his legs under him, an elbow resting on his knee as he rested his cheek in his hand. Ah, he really had ruined any chance he had of having that happen again. He knew it was probably for the better, knowing that Kunikida could do a lot better than him. Hell. A former mafia executive, someone who wasn't really human, the same person who bothered him all the time. It was a wonder Kunikida even put up with him as a partner. He bit back a grimace. "Hm. Fair." He let his eyes close as he sat up, trying to distract himself from the thoughts that threatened to present themselves. "M'not even warm though-" He did laugh at that, and his mind reminded him of just how warm Kunikida had been. He pushed that to the side. He couldn't think too hard on that. "Thanks for dragging me back to bed." He hummed, keeping his tone light despite the fact that he felt like his throat would close up. He couldn't cry, not when he'd been doing so well this morning. The sooner Kunikida thought he was alright, the sooner he could slip back into his normal mindset, and the sooner he could sink into his loneliness again.

As if Kunikida couldn't read Dazai by now. He just had to stop focusing on all the nonsense in his brain. His face cools down as he closes his eyes, taking in the silence of the room and using it to calm down. Okay. There were other things to think about other than himself. "You're welcome." He says, pushing his glasses up his face. Kunikida's finally able to set the pillow aside, and his hands brush his hair behind him. Careful fingers tap his wrist to look for his hair tie and remembered that he already used it the other night. Jeez...he could write up a new one but, was it worth the effort? "I'm being genuine when I say that too." The words fall out of him without thinking, the crack in the dam being worn away from years of silence. "You believe yourself to be some kind of nuisance and nothing more, when there's a lot more to you than that. I know that is your normal and the importance of wanting to keep that normal. I operate the same way. So don't be afraid to-to say what's on your mind for once."

Dazai tensed, the hand he was leaning against pressing gently into the side of his face as he fought to ground himself. What was Kunikida on about? He didn't think he was obvious, but he supposed Kunikida did know him well enough. Despite Dazai's best attempts to keep that from happening. He really couldn't win, could he? He tried to keep others from getting too close, but they always seemed to try. Kunikida would regret that eventually, that was almost guaranteed. "Huh?" That was genuine confusion, spoken before he could properly think it over. There was no pause to try and collect his words, no, there was just his mind beginning to race. His eyes opened to properly look at Kunikida, scanning his expression. It seemed truthful, and that's what scared him the most. "I'm a pest, Kunikida." He offered him a grin, even if it was a little shaky. He forced it to be a little stronger. He wouldn't trouble Kunikida with what was on his mind. "C'mon. That's why you swat at me and throttle me, hm?" He asked, trying to avoid having to talk about what was really on his mind. "Surprised you're actually disagreeing with that."

Kunikida grabs his notebook from the small table and scribbles something within the pages, tearing the sheet out and watching the paper transform into a small black hair tie. He wraps it around his wrist and grabs his hair again to tie it up. Once he started the words seem to continue to fall, flowing naturally like a river. "You're only a pest in the office. When work needs doing you understand that it's a serious situation, so in the end it's not that big of a deal." He pauses as he tightens the ponytail. "We've been partners for how long now? You'd think you would know how I feel about you now." He finished and dropped his hands, giving Dazai a warm smile. "But if you don't. Uhm. I guess I can be blunt with it." "I care a lot about you, whether you want me to or not. If I didn't care then I wouldn't have busted into your house the way I did. That's why I don't mind laying here with you and...and being around you in general. Even if you'd stab and shove me all the way to our eventual deaths I'd still feel the same way. Though you don't-uh..don't have to feel the..same."

He was content to just sit here and watch him tie up his hair. Despite wanting to combat his words, he let them go for a bit. He was too quick to wave that off, and he wanted to say that. And then Kunikida began to speak more on how he felt about Dazai. Dazai froze, his mind screeching to a halt as he tried to process Kunikida's words. It was so much, at all once, and immediately after other kind words. It almost felt like emotional whiplash, especially since he had just been self deprecating and ragging on himself. He didn't quite know what to say to that. After all, he hadn't been expecting something like that. It was so genuine, it was honest. Hell, it scared him. He felt like a deer in the headlights, eyes widening slightly as he looked at Kunikida. He scanned his expression, looking for any sort of indication that he might be lying. Some disingenuous word or statement in that. He couldn't seem to find it. His mouth felt dry, and he opened his mouth to respond but came up empty. No words. His mind felt so empty. What was he even supposed to say to that? He felt so much, so strongly, but he'd never let himself feel that way. He'd pushed down those emotions for ages, even as they bubbled back up. And he wanted to explain that. He wanted to tell Kunikida that he cared about him. That he'd take a bullet for him. But he couldn't. He sat, silent and confused. Wondering how he'd managed to get Kunikida of all people to care. Finally, he managed to speak, mouth dry as he fought to respond. "Excuse me?" He was in a little bit of disbelief.

"I know it's a bit uh...wordy. But.." Kunikida chuckles and seems to settle back into the bed, relaxing against his pillow. He turns his notebook in his hands and sets it back onto the table. Well. It wasn't everything he wanted to say, and he's sure he could go on for ages and ages about every little thing that crossed his mind when it came to Dazai. But Dazai might try to strangle him for doing that. Baby steps. "You understand what I mean though, you get it." He sighs and notices the confused look on his face. Kunikida forced himself to relax, understanding that this was probably a huge dump of information for him. Even if he was scared to have that information out in the open, it would be better in the end. Dazai managed to speak and Kunikida took it in stride, pushing away those frightened feelings. He blinked slowly, meeting his confused look with a calm one of his own. Don't freak out don't freak out- "Y...yeah."

Dazai was trembling. His hands seemed to shake as he held them there, and he allowed them to rest on his legs and curl into the fabric of his pants for some sort of support. It stopped them shaking. At least for now. He wasn't quite used to others feeling positively about him yet. If he had to guess he'd assume he was just a nuisance. Another issue on Kunikida's plate that he had to deal with on the daily. He hated it, but had decided it was better than being completely hated. He wanted to speak, but he still felt frozen. Did he really understand what Kunikida meant? He didn't. He had no idea why he seemed to care, nor why he'd want to care. Still, he couldn't voice to Kunikida how he felt. How was he supposed to tell someone with such lofty ideals that his own were a mess. That he cared about him, but couldn't show that because he was trained to feel so few emotions. He just didn't speak. His mouth really did feel dry. He swallowed to try and bring some comfort back. Kunikida looked far too calm, and Dazai was sure he looked panicked, stuck between a rock and a hard place here. "You shouldn't-" His voice broke, but he coughed and managed to clear his throat enough to right it soon after. "You shouldn't do that." He managed to force himself to calm, appearing rather steady despite the death grip he had on his joggers. (edited)

“I told you, you didn’t have to answer.” Kunikida leaned forward and ruffled the top of his head, sensing the strands of hair askew. Hopefully that motion would bring him a bit of comfort. Despite the fear that was banging loudly in the back of his brain for this crazy decision, he managed to stay true to his ideal self rather than the trembling little boy he could become. “Whether or not you don’t want me to, it’s happened none the less. I made my decision ages ago and I’m sticking to it.” He nods and the finality in his tone is hard to debate with. Kunikida’s raw, unedited honesty is akin to being hit with a bus sometimes. Dazai’s probably going to be thinking about that for a while. He feels lighter as he slides off the bed, pocketing his notebook out of habit and adjusting his glasses. Ugh. He slept in his whole outfit, no wonder he was overheating. Let’s see...he undoes a few of the buttons on his top and sighs softly. That helps a little. “I...understand I said a lot. Don’t feel pressured to uh, reply. Really. I know it’s hard for you. Uh...I’m making pancakes, you want any?”

Dazai still wasn't sure how he would respond. He wanted to explain to Kunikida that he felt the same, that he couldn't get attached lest he let those feelings shine through. That he hid himself behind bars and locks and doors and walls to ensure that no one else could get attached. He didn't know how to explain that it was hard for him to feel. That letting his guard down around the ADA was one of the hardest things he'd ever done. He didn't know how to explain that getting attached was the scariest. That he couldn't get attached or else he wouldn't be able to leave. That getting attached meant that someone would get hurt. The sentiments weighed heavy on his mind and heart, and it was almost getting difficult to breathe. He had barely felt the hand on top of his head, unconsciously leaning into it, and it was another moment before he noticed Kunikida had stood up. He forced himself to focus on him, watching the calm motion of his hands as he undid some of his shirt buttons. His hands slowly loosened their grip on his pants, rubbing down his leg to smooth the wrinkles he'd caused. He moved to just curl his hands into fists, nails scraping against the bandages that wrapped up just on the lower part of his hand. He couldn't manage any words, shaking his head at the question. His mind was racing, and he found it difficult to speak or think. He needed to stop Kunikida from getting attached. He needed to stop being attached. It was only a matter of time before he was hurt if he cared. A matter of time before Dazai managed to ruin it all. That was all he was good for, right? Torture and interrogations. Being soulless and hurting those around him. At least, that's what Mori had said. He hadn't even realized that he'd grown so quiet, staring at the now empty space on his bed where Kunikida had been sitting.

“Ohhhkay. I’ll be out in the uh, other room then.” Kunikida closed the door behind him, letting out a shaky breath he didn’t know he was holding. Okay! Now he can freak out a little bit! Oh right. He also had to get that door fixed. He wiped his suddenly clammy hand off and plucked his phone from the table, making sure the two of them weren’t late to the office and making sure a locksmith would come to patch up the break-in. Calling off felt.. weird. But he already said he would! Maybe next time he could just...use a window or something. Something more subtle than breaking into his partner’s house for what now felt like no reason. Fuck. Was any of this effort he put in getting him anywhere? Dazai’s uncomfortable silence was leaving him with nothing but doubts. Maybe coming out with that was a bad idea after all. He’s suicidal after all, suicidal people don’t want to be close to others for multiple reasons. He rummaged around the kitchen, pondering quietly to himself. Okay. Best case scenario? Dazai is okay with it and Kunikida can give him his actual confession. Worst case scenario? Dazai runs off for another three weeks. Middle of the road? Nothing happens and he’s just left awkwardly trying to read someone unreadable. Which is probably what’s going to happen. Okay. If that does happen, where does he go from there? Ughhhh. He places his hands over his ears and bows his head, trying to somehow block out the racing of his own thoughts. This entire thing was a stupid idea, why did he even try? (edited)

It took a little while longer before Dazai seemed to come back to himself. He shook his head to try and clear his thoughts, trying to process everything. His mind was a little fuzzy, and he couldn't quite seem to fully pull himself together. Kunikida had said that he'd made his decision ages ago, so why had he gotten attached? Hell, why had Dazai even let it happen. Him getting attached was frightening, perhaps one of the most frightening things he'd encountered out of the mafia. He'd even gone back recently, and that didn't frighten him as much as hurting those around him again did. He... supposed that Kunikida getting attached might be alright. Well, maybe. He wasn't too sure. After all, if Kunikida got hurt because of him...? He didn't know if he could take that. He didn't know if he could take anyone being hurt because of him. That'd only prove Mori right, wouldn't it? He forced himself to his feet, legs shaking slightly. He couldn't take being alone with his own thoughts, and he missed the warmth that had been with him when Kunikida was here. He shook his head again, moving to the door. He had to brace himself against it, hand gripping the doorknob tightly. He took a few shaky breaths and moved forward again. He opened the door and step out. Being rested had done wonders, however, he still wasn't completely steady. It was better than it'd been before, especially given that water and rest and a bath had been forced onto him. He stepped out into the main room, not seeing Kunikida but hearing noises in the kitchen. He stepped over to the kitchen, spotting Kunikida. Logically, he knew that he should ask. That he shouldn't just initiate contact without permission. But he was cold, and that exhaustion was creeping back into his bones. So he did it without thinking. He wrapped his arms loosely around Kunikida's middle, slumping slightly and resting his forehead against Kunikida's shoulder. He let his eyes flutter shut against him, taking a shaky breath in.

Kunikida continued to ponder quietly, sighing as he placed his utensils to the side to let them cool before washing up. He'd already tore through Dazai's kitchen to reorganize everything, yet his brain didn't feel any lighter because of it. He placed a clammy hand to his chin and stared down at the linoleum floor. Okay. Maybe he jumped the gun a little bit. Maybe more than a little bit. But he can recover! They don't have to acknowledge what happened and they can just keep it as some weird one-off situation that didn't matter. Or maybe that would make things worse between them. Errr... God. Why is love so confusing? Because he was lost in his own thoughts, he didn't hear the quiet footsteps until two arms were wrapped around him. Kunikida for once, doesn't flinch or explode into a red blushing mess. Instead he relaxes in his arms, placing his too-warm hands over Dazai's own cold ones. "Hi..." He hums, feeling a smile play on his chapped lips. Was this a good sign? He hoped so. That's what it felt like. So he's going to go with the more hopeful option.

Dazai immediately wanted to fall into the warmth. Leaning a little closer into Kunikida as he had wrapped his arms around him. The warmth of him and his hands far more comforting than he'd expected. He forced himself to try and even his breathing, so it wasn't as shaky. "- Was cold." It was as much of an explanation as he could manage at the moment, refusing to tighten his hold on Kunikida. It was still rather loose, so that Kunikida could get out if he wanted to. He didn't want to force him to just stay there with him. He let himself relax a little further, shifting slightly as if shaking his head but only getting more comfortable as he rested against Kunikida. He could probably fall asleep like this. Even if he'd only recently woken, he still felt exhausted to the bone rather than as if he'd just rested and slept for a while. Perhaps it was better that he called off. "Might've lied earlier-" About the mission, that is. Not that he could just say that.

Kunikida wasn’t chuffed about the contact in the slightest. It was rather comforting to have Dazai holding onto him, filling a small part in his heart that he didn’t know was empty to begin with. He shifted on his feet slightly to get more comfortable, rubbing his calloused thumb over Dazai’s knuckles. He hums again under his breath, committing the pressure of his arms around him to a file in his memory. “I’ll warm you up the best I can.” He mutters, placing his whole hand over Dazai’s. Almost holding hands but not quite. Though it makes him turn a slight pink anyway. “That’s fine. I-I mean. Uh. You aren’t obligated to tell me the truth so... I. Figured you’d tell me if you wanted to. Thank you for your honesty.”

Dazai's eyes remained shut as he rested against him, feeling color flush to his cheeks as Kunikida's hand settled over his own. He forced himself to stay awake, however, not wanting to drift off completely. His grip tightened ever so slightly around Kunikida, not tight but just tugging himself a little closer to his warmth. "Wasn't just a small mission." He muttered, shaking his head. He managed to mess up his hair a little more with the action, he turned his hand slightly, lacing his fingers with Kunikida's just absentmindedly. The contact was far more than he had expected, having needed the small amount of contact. It did a lot more for him, and allowed him to feel a little more relaxed. He so badly wanted to drag Kunikida back to bed, to curl up in his warmth and just lay with him. However, he knew it wasn't possible. Not ever. Not now, especially. "'S a lot more.." His voice was low, almost cautious.

Ahhh, it wasn’t as impossible as Dazai felt it was. The slight discoloration under Kunikida’s eyes (that he swears aren’t bags) certainly could use some extra rest. It’s not like either of them had anywhere to be. He felt Dazai rest against him and he welcomed it, eyes sliding shut as he focused on the words he way saying rather than anything else. This was kind of a big step for him. Though he was relieved that his partner was still on two legs at the moment, all things considered. “What did you have to do?” He asked, more to the air than directly to Dazai. If he answers, cool. If he doesn’t, that’s cool too. Kunikida finds his priorities are going backwards from where they usually are. Time didn’t seem to flow normally anymore. Like the two of them had created this strange parallel reality where they could work out their feelings patiently. The parallel reality is Kunikida’s fantasies. Only now they’re real but they’ve come with the cost of seven tons of emotional burdens he’d been ignoring for several years. Let’s spare the details. (edited)

The idea of telling Kunikida what had happened was strong in the forefront of his mind, the answer resting on the tip of his tongue. He knew he could trust Kunikida, that he could tell him what had happened. But why worry him needlessly? He bit back his words, swallowing him down as he tried to push them far far beneath the surface. He knew Kunikida wouldn't be upset if he didn't answer, but he felt he owed him the honesty. Even if honesty was painful and tore at him from the inside out. He wasn't some storybook character. Life was painful and so was the truth, so he might as well rip the bandaid and all its sticky adhesive off now. "Three weeks, executive under Mori again." The words came quietly, muffled into the fabric of Kunikida's shirt. He shook his head, trying to distract himself from the idea of it. He had hated going back, and thinking about it even now was terrifying. His other hand gripped onto Kunikida's shirt, just lightly as he tried to ground himself in his spot.

Ohhhhh. Oh dear. A chill ran down Kunikida’s spine, and Dazai could probably feel how he shivered despite his body being rather warm. “I...well. That explains why you came back and nearly collapsed from the uh. Amount of stress you must have been under..” What a terrifying thought. One that made him itch to put a bullet in Mori’s skull after all, come hell or high water. Technically the three weeks were over now and he should be living in the present rather than the past. But it wasn’t exactly something that was easy to ignore. “I’m glad you’re back.” He sighs, lacing their fingers together and squeezing his cold hand. There wasn’t any need to go into details, his brain could fill in the rest. None of that was important anymore.

Just a little longer, and then he could detach himself from Kunikida. That's what he told himself. A few more moments where he could fool himself into thinking he was human, robbing the warmth Kunikida offered to him. That warmth he'd never manage to get on his own. Not when his soul seemed to chill and break everything he came into contact with. He shifted so he could look up at Kunikida, a little awkwardly standing but resting his chin on his shoulder instead of his forehead. The shudder down Kunikida's spine was slightly concerning, and he knew he owed that to having said something worrying. Idiot. He should have kept his mouth shut. "Told you acupuncture wasn't done with a scalpel." His tone was light, almost joking as he looked up at him, trying to observe his reaction. It was almost too casual for what he'd just said, as if it didn't really matter. "Glad I'm back too! Missed bothering you." That was accompanied by a too wide grin, smug to hide the fear that was beginning to creep back in. Shouldn't he be shoved off by now? Why was Kunikida even bothering with him in the first place? Some misguided pity because Dazai had told him what happened? It had been selfish of him to say so, and he wished it could take it back.

Kunikida let out a long slow breath he didn’t realize he was holding onto, letting his body focus on the releasing of tension than the new horrifying information he was given. No wonder Dazai didn’t want to tell him. He probably doesn’t even want to acknowledge it happened. When he feels calmer he looks at Dazai in his peripheral vision, feeling an odd warmth twisting in his gut from how close he was. “Yeah. I. Understand what you mean now.” He lets go of Dazai’s hand, reaching around to ruffle his hair. Honestly was hard for his partner so that’s how he decided to...reward him? And not totally because he felt like it? Mhm yeah that’s. That’s totally why. Yep. Just a reward system he’s not trying to build any bridges out of sticks and glue no way. “I loathe to say it, but I missed you bothering me too. I never thought things would be too quiet for my tastes but I stand corrected.” Okay maybe he should reel it in a little bit, that seems a bit too far out there. He caps his sentence off with a light laugh to hide the pinkish blush on his cheeks.

Dazai laughed at the contact, fighting not to flinch back from it. Even if he thought he didn't deserve Kunikida's kindness, he supposed he'd take it. There were few moments where he could take that kindness, and he'd be damned if he wasted one of them. The laugh that came from him was soft, lighter than the bitter laughs from this morning or the previous night. It felt a little more genuine, sitting lighter in his chest. He almost leaned up into the contact, eyes nearly shutting for a moment before he focused properly on Kunikida. He didn't want to get distracted, but he very nearly had. Hearing his confession, however, shifted his expression. Confusion flicked across his face for a brief moment, replaced rather quickly by a smug grin. "Kunikida missed me?" He took his chance to tease him, refusing to move away from him just yet. He'd soak in his warmth until he was forcefully pushed off of him. "I'll make a note to be a little louder just for you." He winked at him, far too over the moon at the idea that he hadn't just been left to rot for three weeks without at least someone pretending to care. The conversation was an easy move away from what he'd just admitted, and he was grateful for the change. Well, more grateful that he didn't have to keep speaking about himself. He lost himself for a moment in that laugh, shaking off the odd feeling that had overtaken him. "What'd I miss in three weeks other than... oh you know. You overworking yourself?"