Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Yesterday, upon the stair,
I met a man who wasn't there!
He wasn't there again today,
Oh how I wish he'd go away!

-Antigonish
by William Huges Mearns

Ghosts, spirits, apparitions. All words to describe the same thing. They describe the things that people discuss as they huddle around campfires as the embers shot up high into the darkened sky. They tell of faces in windows and figures and doorways. They tell of people where they should not be, people who should not be. They are laughed off, discarded, when in reality they are true in their own way. A ghost is but a memory. It is a loved one lost and fresh in the mind, perfect to be conjured up or maybe something much worse. It is the memories shoved far in the back of the mind. It is the skeleton in the closet whose hand is wrapped around the doorknob, ready to be swung open.

Atsushi knew about ghosts even before he left the orphanage. He knew ghosts in the form of white jagged lines carved into his skin. Memories he would much rather forget immortalized on his own body. A grotesque picturebook that detailed much of his formative moments. He saw them in mirrors when he changed but they were easy to avoid. If he did not look at himself for too long then he could almost pretend that the ghosts weren’t there. That worked, at least for a little while, when ghosts were only the lines on his skin. It wasn’t until he left the orphanage that the ghosts changed.

They left him alone for a little while when he was on the streets. His mind was too busy to conjure up the ghosts. Every moment was spent on the run from the tiger that seemed unrelenting in its hunt to chase him down. Food quickly became a problem, it quickly became his most important problem. He had much bigger things to worry about than ghosts. Food, water, shelter, and all the necessities he needed came first. It wasn’t until after he had been saved by a strange, rather unstable man, and his partner and was taken back to the Armed Detective Agency that he first saw the ghost.

The apartment they had given him was nice, nicer than anything he had ever dreamed of staying in. Kunikida apologized for the lack of furniture and told him that the agency mainly provided the essentials and the inhabitants were welcome to bring in whatever they wanted, but Atsushi could not see himself wanting anything more than they had already given him. There was a small kitchen off to the right of the door decked out with kitchen appliances and plenty of cabinet space although he knew he would only use the cabinets, microwave, and refrigerator. The oven and stove seemed to be a bit too much, too fancy for what he needed and he didn’t want to tell them he didn’t know what to do with them. There was a small table to eat at and the bedroom in the room next to it had a small futon and blankets. It was more than he could have ever asked for, and it was all for him.

The ghost came that night. The apartment was cozy and the futon comfortable. Atsushi thought after the hectic day that he would have fallen asleep the second he hit the mattress, but he didn’t. His eyes traced unfamiliar shadows cast by street lights from outside the window when a deep sense of dread began to build up inside of him. Panic from deep inside. His breath picked up the pace but no matter how much air he took it was not enough. There was a thick weight over him that held him in place, his limbs pinned to his side. Paralyzed by fear his head seemed as if it were filled with bricks, too stuck to lift his head and look across the room. Look across the room to the far back corner. But pictured in his mind as clear as if he could see it himself, he knew what was there.

The man stood in the corner. It was not like Atsushi could see the man from his position, but he knew he was there. His face was shrouded in darkness but still, he could feel his skin crawl from the way his eyes bore into him. His jaw lay slacked, mouth full of cotton. Even if he wanted to scream, to address the man who caused him so much pain, but he couldn’t. Unable to form the words he would need to question why the man had appeared, to simply ask why he laid in silence. Even if he could, nothing came to mind. In the morning he would question the oddity of the situation but at the moment all he could feel was fear. It did not matter why or how, but he knew that the headmaster was there.

Seconds stretched into minutes stretched into hours before the deep lul of sleep overtook him. He was grateful when it finally came to whisk him away from the nightmare of reality but he was also frightened. For all the time they had spent in tense silence, the headmaster had stayed to himself. But asleep Atsushi had no way to defend himself, to prepare for the oncoming punishment. In the past, he had never been able to defend himself and paralyzed by fear he knew there was nothing he could do anyways.

He didn’t remember falling asleep. The next morning sleep left him slowly. His mind was addled by confusion as he felt the soft futon beneath him, and the scent of tatami mats. Slowly he peeled his eyes open and saw a wooden roof over his head. It had been so long since he slept under a roof, he didn’t know how long it had been since he woke up peacefully, warm, and in a comfortable bed. Memories from the day before rushed through his mind. The warehouse, Dazai, his arm replaced with claws and fur. He raised his right hand out in front of him but where an arm of a beast had been the night before was his own skin, his own short stubby nails. Then he remembered the night.

His head snapped up as he turned to the corner where the headmaster had stood. There was nothing. No coat on a chair or anything that could have imitated the appearance of a silhouette in the darkness. Instead, there was an empty corner. Suddenly a shrill noise cut through the silence. He jumped as he whirled around to see where the noise had come from. There was a phone neatly placed on top of a bag next to him. He didn’t remember getting a phone the day before but after the chaos, it seemed to have slipped through the cracks of his memory. There were many more important things. He frantically scrambled as he looked down at the device with too many buttons. He stared at them for a moment before he pressed one he hoped would answer the call.

“Good morning!” Dazais's chipper voice called out and he pulled the phone away from his ear slightly.

“Oh, Dazai-san,” He said, unsure of what the proper response was. He had never answered a phone before, much less had one of his own. Faintly in the back of his mind, he wondered if he could get Kunikida or one of the Tanizaki siblings to help him learn but he pushed the thought aside. They had much more important things to do than to help him figure out something so mundane that the rest of them didn’t even have to focus on. He didn’t need to give them any more reasons to deem him worthless.

“Today’s another fine day! How is the new dorm?” Atsushi looked around the dorm as he smiled to himself slightly.

“It's great thank you, compared to sleeping outside it is heavenly.” It was not a lie, far from it. It seemed almost impossible that the whole place was just for him. He debated mentioning the headmaster for a second but pushed it aside before he could give it much thought. Whatever it was, it was something he could figure out himself. And there was no proof he could give Dazai that it had even happened, the headmaster was gone. But that did not stop the anxiety that seemed to overwhelm him. After he got dressed in the clothes provided by the agency, just another thing that put him even more in their debt. Although at that point there were so many things he would have to work for the rest of his life to pay them off. He did a quick sweep of the apartment before he headed out to help deal with the emergency that Dazai had spoken of. Of course, there was nothing.

The headmaster did not show up the next night, although his sleep was far from peaceful. While the headmaster did not torment his waking hours he lay in wait to torment Atsushi throughout the night. He did show up the next night. After the violent encounter with the Port Mafia in which he lost a limb only to have it grow right back like nothing had happened, the first thing he wanted to was sleep. He quickly realized that was off the table. He forced himself to stay awake for hours after his body longed to sleep. All attention was on the same damn corner of the room where the man stood.

Night after night was spent in absolute terror. Atsushi found quickly that it was impossible to try and predict when the headmaster would come. Some nights he did, some nights he did not. He treasured the nights when he did not. The nights when he could drift off easily to sleep and not worry about the man that stalked him long after he should have been gone. Although sleep was never peaceful. Nightmares struck indiscriminately, not a care if the man had been there before he fell asleep or not. However, the sleep was still better than it had been before when he only got hours at a time, too busy on the run from the tiger that he had been so sure was following him and the other stressors of not having a roof over his head or food to eat.

It was horrible, but he could manage. He could panic throughout the night and show up to work the next day like nothing had happened. Some days he may have yawned or rubbed at his eyes a tad more than usual but he made sure it did not interfere with his work, it couldn’t interfere with his work. Everyone else knew what they were supposed to do. They were competent, each capable in their own ways. Everyone but him, and he would be damned if the thing that made them snap out of their stupor and finally get rid of him was because of his ghost. That was when it only came during the night, it did not stay that way for long.

The day the headmaster appeared outside of nighttime Atsushi was in the office doing paperwork. He had only been with the agency for a couple of weeks but had settled into the new routine well. Everyone else was out of the office for one reason or another. Kunikida and Dazai were out on a case. Ranpo was with the Tanizaki siblings who had the day off and happened to be going in the same area Ranpo needed to be for a case so they helped him with navigation. Fukuzawa, well Atsushi wasn’t entirely sure where the man was but he didn’t want to. The less time he spent around the man whose role aligned too closely to that of the headmaster for his liking the better. Everyone else had gone out for lunch but he had opted to stay behind. He didn't have enough money to spend on such luxuries with his strict budget he kept himself on to save money and besides, he had his fair share of paperwork to do.

It was mundane work, to say the least, and despite his best efforts his mind tended to wander. That day was particularly hard. The night before had been spent in paralyzed terror, trapped in his own bed and unable to move. The only thing he could do was stare at the corner until he fixed his eyes on the cleaning and hoped for sleep. He knew it was never great when his mind started to wander. It tended to wander into dark areas he did not want to revisit. As he sat at his desk the only thing he could think about was the night before. The next thing he knew, the headmaster was there. Atsushi didn't hear the door open or close as always, he just was there.

“No,” He whispered in horror as he glanced around the room frantically for an escape but his legs were locked in place and rendered his escape impossible. He wasn’t supposed to appear there, only in his dorm at night when he truly felt all alone. But there he was next to the doorway of the agency, the one place he truly felt safe despite numerous threats that came along with the job. He was expendable, and deep down he knew this well, but still, the others made him feel welcome, made him feel wanted, safe. His whole body stiffened and his breath caught in his throat, a strangled gasp. He had to run, had to hide, The tiger inside him repeated that over and over and desperate mantra. Every fiber of his being prepared to do something, to do anything.

He shoved himself to his feet and his chair toppled over behind him with a loud crash. His knees went weak beneath him and he sank to the ground. Quickly he scrambled underneath the desk. The desk created something that almost resembled a cave beneath them as the walls continued down to the floor. They had been helpful to hide behind during the entrance exam and they proved helpful once more.

Tears welled up and burned at the corners of his eyes. Shaky hands made their way to his hair and gripped the strands tightly. It was useless to hide. Pointless to even try. The headmaster had already seen him. His hiding spot was nothing more than a feeble placebo effect to calm his heightened nerves. It didn’t matter how hard he tried, he would never be free. It did not matter how far he ran or how hard he worked the headmaster would always be there in the end. He tried to run before each attempt better than the last but they never worked. Every time they ended with harsh hands in his hair as they dragged him down the hallways, his cries echoed off the walls and into his nightmares. It was idiotic to think that the agency would protect him. No one would ever protect him. He was not worth it.

Footsteps echoed throughout the silent room only broken by his ragged breaths. A loud crash as shoes collided with the aluminum tiles below. His hands moved from his hair to his ears to block out the sound. He clenched his eyes tight as the footsteps came to a stop in front of him. Tears still streamed down his face despite his best attempt to stop them. The punishment was always worse when he cried. The best he could do was just sit there as silent sobs shook his frail body.

Faintly he could hear a voice muffled by his hands as it spoke to him in a soft, quiet tone. Too quiet for the headmaster.

Slowly he cracked one eye open and relaxed slightly. They were a deep purple and full of concern, not anything like what he had expected. A brief moment went by before he realized who it was and the panic returned. He shoulder have remembered that when everyone went out for lunch there was one more that stayed behind, Yosano. There she was in front of him, crouched down to his eye level and in full view of his weakness.

“Follow my breath,” he heard as he pulled his hands away from his ears slightly. “Breath in two, three, four. Hold two, three, four. Exhale two, three, four,” Her voice wasn’t soft per se but far from her usual strict tone. He struggled to focus on her words as he inhaled. The breath was shallow and moved at a faster pace than she had set. His cheeks heated up with shame as he struggled to do the basic test. Within moments his lungs burned and he was forced to exhale and take another quick breath as he shook his head in admission of defeat, an apology without words.

“That’s ok, try again,” And she led him through the instructions again. With each repetition, his breathing started to slow until he was able to match her calm pace.

“What happened?” Atsushi opened his mouth to respond before he froze and shook his head. “You don’t know or you don’t want to tell me?”

“I can’t tell you,” He whispered softly, almost unintelligible. “He’ll hear me,” Much like crying Atsushi knew it was futile, that it would not help to hide from a man who already knew where he was hidden. The only thing he could try to do was lessen the punishment and if that meant staying silent then so be it. Yosano stood up a bit and looked around the room for a moment before she looked back at him.

“Who and where is he?” Her voice was much quieter than before. He didn’t want to talk, it wasn’t safe. But between two superiors he had no choice but to respond.

“Headmaster, by the door,” Much to his luck she didn’t press or ask who the Headmaster was, only peaked back out and looked around.

“Did you see him there?”

“Kind of, he only comes at night he wasn’t supposed to be here. I don know how he's here and I can make him go away. He keeps coming back!” Tears came faster and faster as he shook violently. His hands slipped back up to his hair as he gripped it tightly once more.

“Does he ever tell you anything?”

“No, he just stands there,” Yosano regarded him for a moment more before she peered over the desk again. “Do you see him?”

“I believe that you see him and that must be scary, however, I do not see him.” Everything stopped as if time itself froze. His breath hitched as he looked at her in a mix of confusion and shock.

“How can you not see him he’s right there?”

“I know that you see him,” She began again. “However I do not see anything.” He was crazy, that's what it had to be. Out of all of the things he thought would happen at the agency losing his damn mind never seemed to come to the table. Yet there he was, huddled under a table in distress from something only he seemed to be able to see. Either he was losing his mind or Yosano lied to him, although the second option made little sense. She gained nothing from lying to him except maybe the satisfaction of messing with his head as some form of punishment, but that didn't seem to be her style. He knew that if she wanted to punish him for anything she had more than enough tools to do so in the form of wicked blades that reflected light off of their clean pristine surface. Mind games didn’t seem to be her preferred method of punishment, he would expect something like that from Dazai or Ranpo. And even though he could still feel the presence of the Headmaster, he slowly began to realize the truth behind her words.

“It wouldn’t make sense for him to be here. The door never opened,” He murmured slowly and Yosano nodded.

“Would you feel more comfortable in the infirmary for a bit? I have headphones so you can listen to music or watch a video?”

“I don’t want to bother you anymore.”

“Atsushi, you’re not a bother.”

‘Not a bother,’. Her words rang in his ears as his jaw went slack in shock. A brother, he knew that was all he was. He was another at the orphanage. He took up space another kid could have used and they never hesitated to remind him. Every time he opened his mouth, every time he drew any attention to himself he was reminded of the simple fact. He was a bother. The agency was the same, or at least that's what he thought. But as he stared at Yosano and her words sunk in he couldn’t help but want to believe. He couldn’t help but want to believe He couldn’t help but want to believe that he was important, that he was needed. She pushed herself to her feet and gestured for him to follow her which he did, albeit much less gracefully. She stood next to his side as they walked towards the infirmary. He could still feel the presence of the Headmaster from across the room but he tried his hardest not to pay attention. If Yosano said she could not see him that had to account for something, although he did not turn and check.

When they entered the infirmary she got out her computer and headphones and handed them to Atsushi. He took them hesitantly and curled up in the corner on the floor. Yosano regarded him for a moment but said nothing. Hesitantly he plugged in the headphones and put on some popular show he had heard Naomi talk about earlier that day. The Headmaster stayed in the main office space, but as the minutes passed by the hairs on the back of his neck finally laid flat and he could no longer feel the presence of the man.

Atsushi did not know how long he spent there, it had to have been a few episodes although he paid so little attention he was not sure what was going on. When he took out the headphones he could finally hear noise from outside the door, the others back from lunch. Carefully he wound the headphones up like he had seen others do before and closed the computer. His legs were stiff and he slowly stood and protested from the movement but he paid them no mind. Exhaustion was deep in his bones but he still had work to do.

“How did you know what to do?” He asked hesitantly as he placed the computer down on the desk next to her. She glanced up from the papers he was hunched over, the pen lask in her fingers.

“You’re not the only person here with ghosts,” She said finally. He wanted to pry for more information but she turned back to her work and he knew that was all she would tell him. As he left the infirmary the reality of what she had said sunk in. He might still be crazy, but at least he wasn’t crazy and alone. Before he left for the day Yosano discreetly placed a small orange prescription bottle on his desk.

‘Take one time before bed,’ it read and taped to the side, a phone number. The agency was not permanent, he knew that. He knew that eventually they would find some reason and he would be on his own again, alone and betrayed. But at that moment he allowed himself to feel like he belonged, feel like he was wanted. Like he was not a bother. The Headmaster didn’t go away, not easily. He took the medication before bed that made his body tired enough to actually fall asleep and he felt more energized throughout the day. He did not use the phone number but saved it to his phone. After all, she was a busy woman and did not have time to spare for a minor meltdown over a ghost but he still smiled to himself over the gesture. The agency was confusing, to say the least, and he still did not fully understand why she spent so much time helping him but he wouldn’t complain. It was different, but different didn’t necessarily mean bad.

Chapter Text

To be alive is to be in pain. To be noticed is a mistake. And there is no one to provide for you what you cannot provide yourself. These were things Atsushi knew well. He knew the concept of punishment before he knew how to fix his actions before he even knew what he had done wrong. It was a simple fact of life that he learned to expect from everyone. The agency scared him. He wanted to pretend it didn’t but the fear remained, the fear of the unknown.

Ever since he was young he knew what to expect. He knew what punishments to expect, but the agency was different. He tried his hardest to go unnoticed for the most part. It was harder to be punished if they never saw. But that never worked. Working for a detective agency meant that just about every part of everyone's lives was common knowledge, which meant that each and every slip up was as well. So the whole office knew when he broke the coffee machine the first time he tried to work it. But instead of a punishment, Tanizaki apologized for assuming he knew how to work it and a light lecture from Kunikida about damaging agency property.

The next day it had been replaced and they never mentioned it again besides the occasional joke any time someone asked him to make a new pot. And when he did something on paperwork incorrectly he was corrected by Kunikida who would then redo it himself even if it would put him off schedule. He always felt horrible for making him do extra work but the other man never seemed to mind all that much.

However, they were always trivial mistakes, things that never had much of a long-lasting impact. A mistake on the paperwork was not life-threatening. A ruined coffee machine would not put everyone in danger. They might be more willing to overlook faults and mistakes of minor things but he knew the second it would interfere with a mission he wouldn't be too lucky. That kept him up at night. His eyes were glued to the dark cleaning while the clock ticked further and further into the night. The bright digital numbers were the only light in the dark room. He tried not to think about what they’d do.

He didn't know if it would be the best or worst situation if they were to fire and kick him out. At least now he would have something to get by in the form of a gray backpack tucked away in the back of his closet. Inside a small horde of nonperishable foods, protein bars, and any cheap nutritionally dense food he could get his hands on. Any paycheck from the Agency went straight into the bag after necessary expenses had been paid off. The backpack was so that he had more things than the clothes on his back like before.

A past experience working for the Armed Detective Agency could either help or hinder him in getting a new job depending on what happened so he could not rely on that. However, that was the worst-case scenario or at least the worst-case scenario he wanted to think about. But as he stared at the ceiling he could almost feel Dazai’s hand on him to make sure he could not use the tiger and fight back as they dragged him towards the cell that he saw so often behind his eyelids.

He knew it would happen at some point. He knew a mission would fail. But when it did, he ran. The second they arrived back at the agency he excused himself to his apartment and in the chaos, no one batted an eye.

The call came in around two in the afternoon. Dazai and Kunikida accepted it and the next thing he knew he was out the door, they never really explained things before they left. Police reported a potential ability user who had forcibly taken control of the small warehouse where he had worked until he was laid off only weeks before, likely the trigger for the situation. Every worker escaped except for the boss who was pushed out one of the windows. It was not out of the ordinary, seemingly a normal case. But something Atsushi had learned was that nothing was as cut and dry as it seemed. They knew the only person in the building to be the man, but when they opened the door all went wrong.

What should have been an open, empty room only decorated with boxed ready to be shipped off was swarmed with people. All copies of the man. All armed with guns trained directly on them. Gunfire rang out not a second later. The noise was deafening and Atsushi could only barely hear Kunikida cry out in pain next to him. Quickly he grabbed onto the other man's arm and pulled the two of them back out the door and slammed it behind him. The metal door screeched and let out loud thunks as the bullets rained down upon it and formed little dents upon collision.

“He knew we were coming,” Kunikida hissed out, agony clear in his voice. The tan fabric of his vest was dyed a wet, dark red as blood rushed out of his shoulder in between fingertips that gripped it tightly in a fruitless attempt to slow the bleeding. “Go, find him”

The look on his face was not good. But still, he trusted the other man and his opinion and Dazai was around somewhere, wherever he had disappeared off to before they entered the building, so he nodded and turned away. The front entrance was unusable but a quick run around the side of the building found another entrance and he slipped inside as quietly as he could. Gunfire still rang out on the main floor so as quietly as he could he slipped up the stairs and did a quick sweep of that floor before the headed up to the third floor. The third and final floor was full of offices, likely for those who oversaw the work done on the first. At first glance, there was nothing out of the ordinary and he almost missed it. But a small thud had his attention drawn to the office on the far right and carefully he crept towards it.

Inside, there he was. The man they were after. He stood towards the back of the dimly lit room. The only thing that illuminated his twisted and maniacal grin was the light from the hallway and from the late evening sky from the large window behind him. Next to him, there was a girl.

She could not have been more than nine years old and her head only came up to the man's stomach. Tears trickled silently down her face as she stood limp in his grasp. A wicked blade that reflected the light pressed against her neck. The first few beads of blood welled up as he entered the room. The color was a harsh contrast to her pale skin as it slowly pooled up on the knife. It did not catch all however and the blood slowly trickled down her neck and left small splotches on the collar of her school uniform.

Atsushi froze, his hands raised towards his head with his palms towards the man in surrender. The man was unstable, to say the least, His hands shook with violent tremors and the blade twitched ever so slightly along with them. Evers flickered all over the room, they never seemed to stay focused on one spot for long. There had been nothing in the report of a hostage, much less that of a young girl. Hostage negotiation was something they had not gone over much in his training. In fact, the only other comparable situation was that of the entrance exam.

It all happened so fast, almost too fast for Atsushi to follow. Gunfire suddenly rang out from the hallway behind him, much closer than it had been before and he jumped slightly. He glanced over his shoulder to the hallway behind him and that was when it happened. The man, who was already jumpy, to begin with, snapped. Atsushi’s movements much have been the trigger to finally push him over the edge.

He clutched the knife tighter and dig it deep into the girl's flesh. Before Atsushi could react he yanked his hand out to the side with a flourish and brought the blade along with it. Blood gushed out like a dam that had been broken. The girl opened her mouth in a silent cry as she gagged on her own blood that poured out of his lips. A look of panic on her face as her eyes met him, her hand outstretched towards him but only a moment later it fell lask next to her. Her head flopped to the side the blood still poured out and down the man's arm who looked at the girl in horror as if he snapped out of the daze he had been in only moments before.

Atsushi suddenly remembered what Dazai had said about the man. Fire from his job only weeks before and a divorce pending. A divorce that would have taken away his custody of their only daughter.

The man looked down at the girl before he pulled his arm away and she slumped to the floor. Her head collided with the tile floor loudly and a pool of blood quickly formed around her. The man looked between Atsushi and the girl before he stepped back. His shoes left red prints with every step from the puddle that had spread over his shoes. Smudges of her blood around the floor, paint over a canvas Atsushi thought numbly to himself. The man looked between the girl and Atsushi for a final time before he closed his eyes and rushed back towards the window behind him. The glass shattered loudly under the sudden impact and the man fell. Atsushi ran over to the window as the man fell down, down, down to the concrete below. He hit it with a sickening crack that Atsushi could hear even floors above. His head concaved slightly from the impact and blood spilled out from his mangled corpse. Bones peaked through skin as limbs lay at an angle they should not have been able to.

Atsushi ran over to the girl and frantically pressed his fingers against her throat, careful to avoid the deep fissure in her flesh, it only confirmed his fears. Her heartbeat grew weaker and weaker by the moment. He clutched her hand as he kneeled by her side. Because of the tiger, there were some things that he could notice more than others. So when her pulse dropped to the level that not even he could feel he finally let go of her hand.

That's where Dazai found him minutes later. Head cast towards the ground as he crouched just outside of the pool of blood next to the body of the young girl, a body still warm. He didn’t say anything, he didn’t need to. He only gestured for Atsushi to follow him and so he did. He followed behind Dazai silently until they got out of the building where he asked what happened. His tone was casual but Atsushi knew the intent behind it was anything but. So he told him the facts.

He told him about the man, what he had done to the girl which Dazai had already figured out was his daughter, and what happened to him after. Atsushi did not remember much of the ride back to the Agency but they did not talk about it.

Instead their attention was focused completely on Kunikida who was on the verge of unconsciousness. When they arrived no one said anything. They only took in the situation with wide eyes and jumped into action to help Yosano with anything she might need and help get Kunikida to the infirmary. The second he could slip away he did. He ran all the way back to the dorms

Frantically he slammed the door shut behind him and pressed his back up against the wood as he struggled to catch his breath. His heart pounded violently against his rib cage as he inhaled quickly. With shaky hands, he fumbled to lock the door behind him. It wouldn't stop any of them for more than a moment if they wanted to get in but he could take all the time he could get. All the time to prepare himself for what would come next.

His heart pound, pound, pounded in his chest. Lungs gasped for air as the tension in his chest only tightened. The wall collided against his back as he shoved himself into the sorned and sunny slowly to the ground. Fingers pulled tightly at his hair as his eyes flickered over to the exits. The window would be his safest bet as they would likely enter through the door. His eyes flickered between the three. Door, bag, window. Door, bag, window. But that would only be if they told him to go.

He would want to be long gone by the time they even had the chance to reconsider. Or maybe he would be punished even worse if they found out he had prepared to run. Hot, thick tears poured down his face, he didn’t know when he started to cry. A strangled sob escaped from his throat. He's become too used to their strange kindness and he didn't know how different things would be.

“Atsuuushi!” A sing-songy voice called out and he felt an ice-cold dread seep through him. The lock on the door faintly clicked for a moment before he heard it slam open. It was Dazai. Atsushi knew he shouldn't have hoped for any other kind of punishment. He knew there was only one suitable enough for him, he had been told so for years. It had to be the reason they sent Dazai. Sent the one person they knew could nullify the tiger encase it tried to fight back. When he was younger he wondered why he never got the same punishments as the other children, but as he got older he understood. It was one of the only ways he could be punished while keeping everyone else safe, keeping everyone safe from him. Loud footsteps echoed throughout the small apartment With each step he curled in on himself more. “You slipped out and we were wondering where you-”

Hesitantly Atsushi raised his head, vision blurred by tears he was too afraid to wipe away. Dazai looked down upon his pitiful state from the doorway. His white shirt changed, free of the blood spatters from either. He almost expected Kunikida to be right behind him before he remembered he was likely still with Yosano. He would have preferred Kunikida to be there, at least he would get right to the point.

“So,” Dazai asked as he crossed the room slowly. “What’d you run off for?”

“Nothing,” He said through a thick quiver in his voice as he cursed himself for running. He knew it was always worse if he tried to avoid it.

“Didn’t look like nothing. Naomi said you left in quite a rush,” He crouched down in front of the boy and scanned him up and down. The hairs on his neck stood up as the tiger scrambled to run, to fight, to escape. “Anything to do with the mission?”

“...no?” Before he could think Dazai raised his hand and he moved. He pressed against the wall even further and he circled in one himself. Head ducked between arms as he braced himself for the impact. For the explosion of pain or the tight grip around his arm that would leave him helpless. Tears fell faster and soaked through the fabric of his shirt. Images from the past flooded through his brain of days gone by spent cramped in the corner of the cage. He wondered how long they would keep him in there and if they would give him food or water. But nothing came.

After a moment he raised his head out of his arms hesitantly as he glanced around the room and looked at Dazai Dazai who had a look on his face that he had never seen before, a look he did not know how to interpret. He had backed away from his a few feet, his hands still out in front of him but palm up in surrender.

“Atsushi,” He said, almost softly, “I am not going to hurt you.”

“But I messed up?”

“I am not going to hurt you.”

“Then what are you going to do?” Slowly he snuffled his position to face Dazai easier as he pulled up his knees to his chest.

“Going to do?”

“For punishment,” Instantly Dazais eyes hardened and Atsushi ducked his head away nervously. Silence fell between the two, tension thick enough to cut through.

“Extra training with Kunikida and a minor break from field cases, maybe a week or two,” He said firmly as Atsushi stared in shock. Dazai caught his eyes, his intense gaze almost made him believe he meant it.

“I messed up?”

“Yes you did,” He cringed and ducked his head again in shame before Dazai continued. “And our information was bad, you had no idea what would happen.”

“Peopled died!”

“They do that,” He said bluntly. “It happens, especially in this line of work. Deaths will happen no matter how much you wish they wouldn’t. And at some point or another, we have all been responsible one way or another. For every five people, you save there will be one you cannot.” The last part was quite like an afterthought that hadn't meant to be said. Or knowing Dazai, one that meant more than he let on.

“Now!” He exclaimed suddenly as he hopped to his feet with a clap that caused Atsushi to flinch slightly. The almost melancholy look on his face was replaced with a smile. “We should get back to the agency. There’s still work to do, especially after something like that. Still missing pieces.”

“But-”

“No buts!” He turned and crossed over to the door before he paused and glanced over his shoulder. “You coming? Don't want to deal with an angry Kunikida when we get back! He should be free from Yosano soon.”

“I thought you loved to annoy him?” Atsushi said as he scrambled to his feet and whipped away the tear tracks that cascaded down his face.

“That's right! But Yosano made me promise I could only antagonize him after twelve hours after treatment! Something about unhappy patients, and she can be quite persuasive when she's angry,” Dazai grasped the door handle and threw it open wide. “After you.”

Atsushi nodded as he straightened out the wrinkles in the white shirt that had numerous gray, wet splotches he hoped the others would ignore. His mind still spun with questions. A large part of him still questioned if it was all a part of a magnificent plot to get him back to the agency and punish him there, but he punished it away to the back of his head. Dazai was known for his clever tricks and deceptions but there was something about that interaction that seemed different, something as close to sincere as he had ever seen from the other man.

Chapter Text

If Nakajima Atsushi ever had a bad decision, he knew that this was it. With hot and heavy breaths he pushed himself off the futon and to his feet. Instantly his vision became blurred as he looked around. The walls swayed ever so slightly from side to side as the ground became unsteady beneath his feet. Static filled his brain, the volume loud enough to drown out any other thoughts he might have had. He stumbled to the side and pressed a hand up against the cool wall to stabilize himself. Small dots sparkled around his vision like mini fireworks put on just for his display. With a shaky hand, he brushed aside his hands that clung tightly to his forehead, his sweat as their adhesive. When the lights had finally faded and he felt more confident in his own two feet he pushed himself away from the wall and headed over towards the bathroom.

His eyes squinted together in pain as the artificial lights flickered on above. They seemed to be much brighter than in days past as they burned into his eyes. The slight sheen of sweat not lonely coated his face but his whole body. Damp was the best way to describe the feeling. His clothes hung tight to his skin and had to be peeled away as he turned on the faucet to the shower and the spray rained down.

He shivered slightly as the cold water pelted his skin softly. The jarring shock from the temperature change dissipated the remnants of sleep and he felt more awake than he had only moments before. He didn’t know how long he stood under the water. Long enough that the cold no longer bothered him and he no longer felt the gross feeling on his skin. He knew that he had to go to work but as he glimpsed himself in the bathroom mirror he almost reconsidered. Dark bags hung under his eyes like bruises, a sharp contrast to his clammy almost lifeless skin. As he began to dry off with a towel, the only one he had, the dizziness returned.

The floor swayed slightly and he felt the world turn around him. Darkness crept into his vision slightly as he slid to the floor, his back pressed up against the wall. He scrunched his eyes up tight before he opened them and the dark static dissipated slightly. Suddenly an intense wave of nausea flowed through him. He lurched over the toilet quickly much to the pain that throbbed in his head’s displeasure. Not even a moment later bile pushed up through his throat and emptied into the toilet below with a small splash. His throat burned as he gagged violently but the only thing that came up was the tea from the night before. He had gotten back from the agency late and the mere thought of food revolted him. After a few moments, he wiped the area around his mouth with the towel and returned to his place against the wall, but that didn’t last long. He gave himself a few moments of rest before he carefully clambered to his feet. Slow as to avoid the agitation of many problems he did not have time to focus on.

When he joined the agency there were many things he did not expect, many things he still did not understand. However, the basic expectations of him were clear. Show up, get the work done efficiently with as little danger to anyone's life, fill out the appropriate paperwork, and leave. There were other things of course but no matter what happened those expectations stayed the same. Some of the members, mainly Dazai if he was honest, could get away with bending some of the rules, but they had earned their place.

They aren’t some useless orphan who takes up space wherever he goes, his mutinous brain replied as he ran a hand through his hair and tossed small droplets of water around him. He brought the towel up to his head and carefully dried off his hair. His motions slow as to not make anything worse than it already was. There were things he could take, he had seen the others do so. Kunikida kept a small bottle in his desk drawer. He only ever saw it after Dazai pulled some sort of stunt. Kunikida could be seen grabbing the bottle before popping a few pills into his mouth with direct eye contact with Dazai. Although Atsushi noticed he never kept more than a few in there, likely just in case of one of Dazai’s more severe episodes. There were a few small bottles of things he could not pronounce in the first aid kit he kept in his room and he knew some of them had to be for a situation like this. But even if he knew which ones to take he didn’t know how much or how often. They were questions he could go to Yosano with but he had already bothered the woman more than he would have preferred and she had bigger things to worry about than explaining medication. Medication that he didn’t really need, after all, he’d had worse in the past. If he could get through it then, he could get through it now.

If he could get through worse then, he could get through this now. A mantra that he repeated in his head as he entered the agency and headed towards his desk. It was a rare day that the agency was quiet. It was odd but Atsushi was not about to complain. Most of them were out for the day, the only noise came from the scratching noise as Kunikida scrawled a pen across a page or the crinkle of Ranpo’s snacks. Ranpo, one of the only people he did not wish to run across, Dazai being the first. He did not expect to be able to hide his weakness from everyone, they were a detective agency after all, but he knew if he hid it well enough and attracted no attention to himself he could likely get away with it. It was not that he thought they would do anything about it, but after the disaster of a mission only two weeks prior the last thing he wanted to do was show any form of weakness. He wanted to give them no other reason to deem him useless, not like they did not have enough reasons, to begin with. But he knew there was no use hiding anything from Ranpo. He was able to see through any front anyone tried to put up but unlike Dazai at least he wouldn’t do anything about it.

He gave a small hello to Kunikida who only responded with a nod, too invested in his work for anything else but Atsushi knew better than to take it personally. After all, it was better for the other man to pay him no attention. He tried to lower himself into his seat but he more collapsed into it rather than anything else. His hand rubbed against his head slightly as it protested the jarring movement through sharp pains that seemed to get worse at the sight of the paperwork piled up on his desk. The work he had to do himself was not too bad but Dazai had taken a liking to push off his work to Atsushi under the guise of training. The others would typically protest against it but since he had fewer missions the past two weeks it drew less attention. In fact, that was a majority of what the past two weeks had entailed. He threw himself into the paperwork, into the training. Every night he would come home exhausted and collapse into bed. It might not have played the best role in his physical health but it did help dispel the ghost that still haunted him. But it was unsustainable, and he knew that. It was only a matter of time before the overworking caught up to him. It seemed like it finally had.

The words seemed to swim together on the page. With each moment that passed his head ached more and more. A sharp pain throbbed violently behind his eyes yet still he pushed it aside. He could take a little pain, the work needed to get done. There were more important things than a mild little headache.

Less than an hour later he was forcefully reminded that it was more than a headache. A cup of tea, that's all it took. He thought it might help with the exhaustion that picked away at his bones, give him some sort of kick to bring his attention back to the work at hand, and stop his eyelids that seemed to want nothing more than to flutter closed. It wasn’t even that much tea, just a small little cup, but still, it proved to be too much. His stomach rolled uncomfortably as nausea from that morning hit him with full force.

Slowly, as to not bring any unwanted attention to himself he silently pushed his chair back and carefully crossed the room towards the bathroom. He closed the door behind him quietly before he ran over to the toilet just in time. The hot acid bubbled up from inside and spilled over. He spat a glob into the toilet as his stomach protested, a dull ache inside that seemed to spread throughout his body as he dry heaved. His lips were coated in a layer of grime that dribbled down the side of his face. The sharp pungent smell of vomit seemed to overwhelm him and the ache in his head turned into a sharp stabbing sensation. His hands moved from the side of the toilet up to his head as tears began to prick at the corners of his eyes. The pain and discomfort nearly overwhelmed him to the point he did not hear the bathroom door creak open.

“Atsushi?” A concerned yet firm voice called out hesitantly. To say Atsushi jumped would be an understatement. He whirled around frantically to see the speaker. His back collided with the wall and he brought a hand up to the side of his head as if it would do anything to help soothe the agony. Frantically he wiped away the remnants of the bile that coated his lips and around his mouth with the back of his hand. A decision that seemed good at the moment but one he would come to regret only moments later when he realized that the toilet paper was right next to him.

Kunikida stood in the doorway, a look Atsushi had never seen before on his face. Well, a look Atsushi had never seen before directed at him. He had seen the look before when Kenji got injured on his mission, too faint from the lack of food to defend himself. He had seen the look after one of Dazai’s attempts went too far. They tried to keep everyone as far away as they could either from Dazai’s privacy or as to not scar them. Kunikida had that look on his face, his eyebrows slightly scrunched up and his eyes flickered around wildly as if he was trying to take in as much information as he could. His lips slightly parted as if he wanted to say something but had to work through every detail of the situation first. A situation he was not entirely sure how to handle.

“I’m fine,” Atsushi said before another wave of nausea hit him and he was once more bent over the toilet. The next thing he knew Kunikida was next to him with a small glass of water and a paper towel for him to wipe his face with. Atsushi wasn’t sure when he had left to begin with.

“Do you know how irresponsible it is to come to work sick?” Kunikida said firmly as Atsushi curled in on himself slightly from the strong glare. “You could have made yourself work or gotten any of your other coworkers sick.”

“Sorry,” He mumbled as Kunikida sighed and checked his watch.

“Up, you’re going home,” Atsushi nodded but the tears burned once again. There was nothing more he dreaded than the walk back to the dorms. His legs felt shaky beneath him and he knew it was only time before he had another moment of sickness. He didn’t need to start walking to know that the time it would take for him to get back home would be more than doubled in his state. Slowly he clambered to his feet, his hand pressed against the wall as the world seemed to sway from side to side, and he followed Kunikida out of the bathroom. His face turned a shade of bright red from shame as Ranpo looked up from his desk with a knowing look before he looked back down at his work. The more people who knew about his weakened, pathetic state the worse the situation got. He could only thank his lucky stars the rest of the agency was out besides Naomi. Not that it made much of a difference since she would instantly tell her brother and news travels fast in such a small agency.

Atsushi stood awkwardly in the doorway, a moment to gather his bearings, as Kunikida rifled around in his desk for a moment before he straightened up with a hospital-type vomit bag and car keys in hand.

“Wh- what are you doing?” Atsushi asked hesitantly as Kunikida grabbed his coat off the back of his chair and strode towards the exit.

“Driving you to the dorms?” He turned towards Atsushi and there was the look again. The look of concern.

“Oh,” He said quietly and shuffled from side to side awkwardly before Kunikida waved him forward and he rushed to keep up. He had already taken enough time out of the man's day and the last thing he wanted to do was to keep him waiting. Especially when he could retract his offer, well more of a demand, to drive him home. Kunikida glanced over his shoulder at Atsushi who could only hope that he looked better than he felt and lessened his pace slightly.

When they got to the car Kunikida thrust the plastic bag into Atsushi’s arms before he slipped into the driver's seat. A nice offer although Atsushi would never throw up in the man's car if it was the last thing he’d do. There was something so pervasive about it, he knew that the hard way. Someone so pervasive about how the smell lingered no matter how many times he rinsed his clothes out under cold water with soap. A pungent, corrosive smell. With each bump, each turn of the car he felt the nausea worsen. At one point the other man asked if he was alright but he could only nod, no trust in his body to not take advantage of his open mouth. So instead he simply sat there as his body seemed to turn against itself. Ever since he had gotten out of bed the longing to go back had been intense, more intense than a normal morning. But the second he got out of the agency, the second he no longer had a job to do, it hit him in full force. Throwing up couldn’t have helped. It took a toll on the body and used up energy that could have been used elsewhere like ensuring he stay awake.

The second the car slowed to a stop outside of the dorms he unbuckled his seatbelt in a rush and launched himself out of the car. He fell on all fours. The hard cement dug into the soft flesh of his palms but he paid it no mind. The pain in his hands was nothing compared to that in his head. Instantly he began to reach, his body convulsed violently as it attempted to rid anything from a system that had already lost everything. He could feel the presence of Kunikida behind him. The man simply stood there in silence for a moment before Atsushi stumbled to his feet. His world swayed back and forth and he threw his arms out to balance himself.

Suddenly a tight grip wrapped itself around his forearm and Atsushi completely froze. Hesitantly he raised his eyes over to his right and saw Kunikida. His hand, strong and sturdy, around his arm. The grip was tight, but not tight enough to hurt. A grip to stabilize not to punish. Still, he tried his best to stand up tall and focus on the world despite the fact that his eyelids seemed to droop lower and lower each time he closed his eyelids to blink. The hand around his arm began to gently tug him along as he followed silently up to his dorm.

The next few moments seemed to pass in a blur. With each step, exhaustion seeped more and more into his bones. His jaw felt almost slack and the mere thought of having to talk seemed too much. The ground underneath him felt farther away than normal as if he was walking on air rather than the concrete below. It took all his energy to watch his step to ensure he did not trip. He wasn’t sure he would be able to get back up if he did that. He didn’t really remember when they arrived at his apartment, the only thing he knew was when he collapsed into his futon that had never been as comfortable as it was at that moment. His eyes fluttered shut and for the first time that day, he finally felt at peace.

Atsushi did not remember when he closed his eyes but he opened them with a start to the taste of bile in his mouth. Quickly he sat up and leaned over the side of the futon where a bowl was, a bowl that was not there before he noted to himself. Footsteps hurried into the room as he spat out the little bile his body could. A glass of water appeared in front of him and he grabbed it eagerly like a man who had not seen water in ages, although his body certainly felt like it. The cool water felt heavenly for his throat ravaged by the acid. The hand returned again and gently pried the glass from his tight grip that caused it to trickle down his face.

“If you drink too much you could make yourself throw up,” Kunikida said matter of factly, and Atsushi nodded before he froze.

“Why are you still here?” He wondered aloud before he could stop himself. It didn’t make sense. Kunikida was practically held captive by his schedule. Everything he did followed it to a T and with Dazai gone for the day he had expressed such excitement to finally have no interruptions. And there was Atsushi, an interruption. He expected Kunikida to have left long before, to return to his work. But there he was, knelt in front of him, a few white pills in his palm that he held out for Atsushi to take.

“Because you are sick and Yosano has not arrived,” A statement that he said as if it cleared anything up when in reality it only left him with more questions. Hesitantly Atsushi reached out and gently took the pills, slow to make sure the tremors that shook his hand did not cause him to drop them. They were unfamiliar, although all medications were. He wanted to ask, to know what they were so he could know what would be in his body, but he knew better. The medication would help, it would be unlike Kunikida to offer him anything else. But he would not give him the chance to take it away. Without another second he took them and washed them down with a small sip of the water.

“She will be here in about thirty minutes, and she’s bringing soup,” Kunikida hesitated for a moment as if unsure how to proceed yet when he spoke his voice was confident, stern, “I would have gotten you something from your kitchen however it’s contents were bare and hardly nutritious.”

Atsushi flinched away slightly at that. There were few times that he had ever been in any of the other's dorms, but the few times he had he had marveled at their kitchens. Something pathetic, and he was well aware of that. But there was something about the sight of their well-stocked spice cabinets full of things he had never heard of before. Their fridges had fresh fruits and vegetables, and homecooked meals for those who could cook. Cabinets that were full of snacks. Atsushi knew his own paled in comparison. Most of the space was empty save for a few cabinets for a few pots and pans, rice, a tea kettle, plenty of energy bars, and other cheap nonperishable goods. It wasn’t like he wanted to eat them. Most of them were bland and near tasteless but it’s all he knew. The Orphanage left him no opportunities to learn to cook himself and the money from the agency he tried to save up as best he could.

“I don’t know how to cook?” He offered weakly as Kunikida’s lips pursed into a tight line but luckily he did not press the matter further. Sleep began to tug gently at Atsushi’s eyelids once more as they slowly fluttered shut. He opened his mouth to yawn before he snapped it shut and suppressed it to the best of his ability. He knew was rude to yawn in front of other people, especially his superior. Hands reached towards him and he stiffened up for the impact, but when they came they were gentle. They slowly helped him lay back down and retreated as fast as they could once his head hit the pillow.

It didn’t make sense, none of it made any sense. From Kunikida allowing him to take off work to taking important time out of his day to look after him. Most of all Atsushi could not wrap his head around the idea of him also forcing Yosano to go out of her way for him. No one could force Yosano to do anything and that could only mean that she chose to out of her own free will which frankly made even less sense to him. But as consciousness left him once more all the thoughts drifted to the back of his head. It made no sense, but that did not make it bad. Did not make it fill some sort of void he didn’t know was present before. And as he slowly drifted off to sleep, he felt calm. No, not calm. He felt comforted.

Chapter Text

Nothing good ever came from red. Red was what spilled out from the crescent marks in the skin left by a tight grip. It meant pain, suffering, and danger. Red is what a child in the orphanage coughed up. He had always been a silky child, with ashen skin and sunken eyes. None of the children looked particularly healthy but still he stood out. He developed a cough, a loud barking coug that at first woke up some of the others but everyone adjusted to it rather quickly. Then red came, smudged around his mouth after a particularly bad coughing fit. Atsushi was not there a month later when they found his body but he heard all about it from the others. He was wrapped in his blanket as if asleep, but all around his mouth was the red.

Nothing good ever came from red, and Atsushi knew the situation only proved that message, however, he couldn’t help but smile.

It all had happened so suddenly that he barely had time to move, even less time to fully think through his actions just like the entrance exam with the fake bomber. But even if he had time to think, he would have done the same. The second he heard the gunshot he darted forward. Legs moved on their own. Hands collided with Dazai’s tan jacket as he barreled full force into him. He shoved as hard as he could and forced him out of the way. Then, it was cold.

Every story he had ever heard about bullet wounds talked about the pain, but he didn’t feel it. He felt the force of the bullet as it hit him. It was so strong that the next thing he knew, he felt the cold tile beneath him as he collapsed to the floor. He heard shouts and saw the ceiling above him, but he did not feel pain. His hand reached down to his side hesitantly where he felt the force, they came away red. He struggled to lift his head up slightly off the floor. That's when he saw it, the red that drenched his once-white shirt. The puddle of red he lay in.

His head flopped back to the ground but instead of the cold, hard tile from before, he landed on a hand. A hand that gently lowered him to the ground before it moved away. A face, Dazai’s face came into view as he hovered over him. Atsushi could have sobbed in relief. Dazai, with a smudge of red across his face. Dazai, with hands, pushed down on his jacket against the wound. He knew it should have set off a few warning bells. He should have been concerned about the fact that he couldn’t feel it even though he knew it should hurt. He should have been concerned about how he didn’t care about the position he had put himself in. But that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that the red, thick blood on Dazai’s hands was his own. That the other man had not a scratch on him.

Faintly he heard a voice speak to him, a hint of panic in the voice. He saw Dazai’s lips move but he paid him no mind. To a certain degree, he was at peace. He had always known it was going to end like this. He had known that since his first day at the agency. Out of everyone there, he was the disposable one. And he knew that well. He knew that when he had been captured by the Port Mafia, they were originally not going to rescue him. He wasn’t dense. He knew that in the way that Tanizaki was almost hesitant around him for the days that followed. How Kenji would look between him and Ranpo, clearly uncomfortable. He still didn’t understand why Kunikida ended up helping him. It simply made no sense.

“Don’t worry,” He said quietly. His chest convulsed slightly as a soft, pitiful cough shook his body, “Better me than you,” The strong taste of copper filled his mouth as liquid trickled down his face. He hadn’t spared him a moment of thought in years, but at that moment he thought of the boy. Is that how he died? Alone even though there were people around him. People who would not remember his name. Did he also know that he was going to die? Was he also at peace with that?

Death had always been such a large part of his life. Something that hid around every corner waiting to strike. He used to be scared, no, terrified of it. Terrified to the point he considered stealing from what he thought was a dead man in a river. But as the world slowly began to fade from view, he did not feel fear. All he felt was relief. Relief that it was him rather than anyone else. Relife that he could go to rest without the guilt of being too slow. And relief that for once he wouldn’t be alone. He always thought that he would die alone. But as his head was cradled gently by someone his out of sight he could pretend, pretend that he had the thing he had wanted ever since he could want anything. He could pretend he had a family.

First came the voices. Soft, mumbled voices that seemed to fade into unintelligible white noise. Slowly he cracked one eye open and blinked away the remnants of sleep from his eyes. The voices stopped suddenly and he could hear the screech of chairs against tile as someone rushed to his side. A woman leaned over him. Purple eyes peered down at him. He barely had time to process them before a bright light flashed over his eyes. Instantly he shut his eyes tight and tried to flinch away but to no avail. Fingers pulled roughly on the skin underneath his eyes and forced them open as the light returned again. It flashed in front of his eyes for a moment before the fingers left and his eyes shut tight. The light turned into a burst of colors behind his eyelids and he scrunched them up in an attempt to get rid of them.

“Vitals are good and pupils are normal. Well, normal for Atsushi,” A voice familiar voice called out as heels clicked on the floor away from him. Slowly he opened his eyes once more and fully took in his surroundings. The first he saw was the bed. Sterile white sheets draped over him, meticulously tucked in at the corners. The bed crinkled slightly as he moved as if there was some sort of plastic between him and the mattress or plastic around the mattress. The woman, Yosano his brain supplied as the fog began to slowly lift, was next. She stood slightly away, her back to him as she quickly scratched something onto a clipboard before she turned back to him. He had seen her disheveled before, seen her rattled. He was with her after she was blown up again and again by the crazed Port Mafia ability user with the lemon-shaped bombs. Her clothes were singed by the blasts and she had a trail of blood down her face. He had seen her after a particularly bad attempt from Daai. He had seen the way her hands twitched slightly at her side like she wanted to do something, do anything, more to help him but she knew he could not. He had seen her rattled, but there was something different this time.

Perhaps it was the dark blood, a stark contrast to her white shirt. It was streaked across the bottom of her sleeves and where her shirt met her skirt. It was nothing he hadn’t seen before, but the knowledge that it was his blood made his stomach curl. Her usually straight, perfect hair had a few flyaways that stood out at odd angles. Mascara smeared slightly as if she had to take a towel to it. A towel that likely came away red. He glanced over to the closet where he knew she kept all soiled bandages, and the biohazard bin, and wondered how much of his blood was there. How much of his blood was left on the floor, and how much on his coworkers. Slowly he looked around and attempted to orient his slightly fogged-up mind. Then, he saw him.

Next to him, in a plastic chair that looked anything but comfortable, sat Fukuzawa. His yukata was nearly wrapped around him as always. Not a drop of emotion to squander his impassive attitude. But there were his eyes. Those were another situation all by themselves. Someone once said that the eyes are the window to the soul. That you can hide everything about yourself but the eyes are what give you away. Atsushi was not sure how reliable that was after working with Dazai who never showed anything he didn’t want others to see. But he still understood.

There was something about the way the older man looked at him. If he didn't know better Atsushi might have called it worry or concern. But he knew better. He knew what he truly meant to the other man. An asset, nothing more and nothing else. He knew he only wanted to play a game of pretend, to see things that were not there.

“Did everyone make it out ok?” He asked. His throat burned in protest, dry and scratchy from labored breaths. Yosano was at his side in a second, glass of water in hand as she raised the bed to a sitting position with the other. He took the glass eagerly. So focused on not spilling he almost missed the look the two shared, almost.

“Minimal injuries,” Atsushi let out a deep sigh of relief as he collapsed back against the bed. Yosano shot Fukuzawa another glance and he nodded in response. Without another word, she crossed the room and shut the door behind her. That's when he knew he had messed up. There was no other reason why he would leave the two of them alone. No reason as to why the president would be there in the first place. Atsushi knew he didn’t show up every time someone got hurt. The only reason was that he fucked up.

“You've gave us quite the scare,” He said matter of factly. Atsushi’s face heated up from shame as he stared down at his hands. Of only, he had been better, been faster. Perhaps then he could have saved Dazai and gotten himself to safety as well. He wouldn’t have forced the others to take their attention off the job and on to him.

“Where is he?”

“He left the second he returned you to the agency. He did not come in yesterday.”

“Is anyone with him?” Atsushi asked frantically as he shifted into a more upright position. Panic laced every word as he stared with wide eyes. They all knew what happened when Dazai was left alone for too long. It was even worse if he did not show up to the agency at all rather than skirting around his work, coming in late, and leaving early. That's how they knew it was bad. But they knew to send out a search party if he skips completely with no heads up or communication.

“There is someone with him,” He didn’t need to say who, they both knew. And if they did not say it out loud then at least they both had plausible deniability. After all, the truce between the two organizations was anything but stable. And when it came to Dazai and his demons, they would take any support they could get. Mafia or not.

“That’s good.” He said, his shoulders dropped with relief. Then the rest of the sentence sunk in. “What, what do you mean yesterday?”

“Your enhanced healing was stipped by the ability you fought. By the time that you got to Yosano, you had lost a considerable amount of blood. She used her ability immediately. You have been unconscious for,” He glanced over at the large clock on the wall before he looked at to Atsushi, “Twenty-six hours. It is two am.” His eyes flittered away from the older man as his breath hitched slightly in his throat.

His whole life death had always been but a moment away. From the boy with the cough to the girl who froze to death, curled in the fetal position on the porch of the orphanage after being forced to sleep outside during the winter. It had infested every part of his childhood and that godforsaken building. Death had only been but a moment away when he was kicked out of the orphanage. Whether from starvation, lack of shelter, or simply being in the wrong place at the wrong time in the crime-ridden streets of Yokohama, the threat was there. It became even more prevalent after he joined the agency. No longer the same as before but rather a stray bullet, a lucky hit, something that could occur any day. But as he stared down at his hands, flecks of dried blood underneath his nails, he realized how close he had truly come.

“I need to ask you,” Atsushi looked back up at Fukuzawa as his words shook him out of his spiral. “When you spoke to Dazai before you fell unconscious, what did you mean?”

He paused as he tried to think back. It was all a hazy blur. Words twisted and mangled, just out of earshot and the world started to fade the second he hit the ground. But he remembered, remembered the way his lips formed the words as he forced them out. ‘Better me than you.’

“I don’t understand what you’re asking?” He asked hesitantly, a slight quiver in his voice. It would be different if it were any other member asking him. But not Fukuzwa himself, the man who held control over his power and the power over his house, his income, his life. He glanced down at his lap, hands twisted anxiously as he waited for the other man to speak.

“Atsushi,” He started slowly. The man was always serious, Atsushi could count on his hands the number of times he had seen him not. And that number went down if he excluded any time related to the cats that hung out in an ally near the Agency. “Do you think of yourself as a member of this Agency?”

“I..” He began before he trailed off. Fukuzawa stared at him, his gaze so intense he could feel its burn even though he did not meet it. The tension in the air seemed to wrap around his neck. It’s hands clenched tighter as air barely managed to squeeze its way through his windpipe. “I passed the entrance exam?” A sentence that came out more as a question than anything. The objective truth but not an opinion.

“Then you are a member of the Agency. A member just all the others.” Atsushi nodded slowly in response. Logically he knew he was a member, that made sense to him. That wasn’t the truth that hurt. He reached out for the glass again, not out of thirst but rather to have something to do besides focus on the conversation, but found it empty. Fukuzawa took the cup from his hand and made his way over to the sink. It looks so oddly…domestic. The sight of the President doing something as mundane as getting a glass of water for him, something he didn’t need to do. He handed the glass back and Atsushi whispered a quiet thanks as he sipped it slowly.

“Your life matters,” Water spilled over the rim, the glass nearly dropped as Atsushi stared. His head snapped to fully face the President, brows slightly furrowed as his mouth opened slightly. Whatever he thought the man was there to do, to say, it wasn’t that. “Your life matters. It is not better that you were shot instead of Dazai.”

“But Yosano can heal me, not him. And with my ability-”

“That is not what you meant,” Fukuzawa interrupted. “You knew that you had been affected by the ability and that your healing would not work. You also knew that it was likely Yosano would not get to you in time.” He glanced away slightly, almost ashamed.

“I’m sorry,” He offered weakly. An apology didn’t seem quite right, but he didn’t know what else to say. However, when he looked back up he knew it was the wrong thing to say. Fukuzawas eyes widened as he looked down at him. Eyebrows slightly furrowed together, but not in anger like Atsushi might have predicted. No, he wasn’t angry although he had all the reason to be. He seemed almost, sad.

“Do you know what has happened while you were unconscious?” He asked slowly and Atsushi shook his head. “Nothing. Yosano has been in here the entire time, Ranpo couldn’t even get her to change into new clothes. Kenji and Kyoka were sent home a few hours ago. The Tanizaki’s went too but only because Kyoka is staying with them. Ranpo has a case but came back right after, Kunikida has not left.”

“What about you?” A stupid question. A pathetic question that Atsushi regretted the second it left his lips. The question of a desperate child who longed for an answer but did not know what he would do when he received it.

“I have been here.”

“Oh,” He didn’t know what to say. He saw how the Agency reacted when the Tanizaki’s returned after his first run-in with Higuchi, Akutagawa, and the Port Mafia. Yosano took them in quickly, easily within her ability to heal them. They were in little danger, but still, he saw how their looks lingered on her closed door. How conversation would pause if the screams of agony became too loud. Every one of them knew they were safe and all of them, minus Dazai of course, had been treated by her before. Yet they still couldn’t mask their concern, their care for their injured coworkers. Their injured friends. So to think that they reacted in the way they did, to think they even reacted at all…It just didn’t make sense. They sat in silence for a moment but not an uncomfortable silence as before. Well, not uncomfortable in the same way. There was no tension but rather, warmth. The kind that would bloom in his chest when he did something right. The kind that would come from Kunikida’s simple head nods after looking over his paperwork. The kind he got from Yosano that day under the desk, from Dazai after the failed mission. But this was more than that. Not overwhelmingly so, but rather wrapped all around him like a soft blanket.

He couldn’t hide the small frown on his face when Fukuzawa stood from his chair to leave. It was stressful to be around the man, yes. But there was something about that moment that just felt different. A feeling he wasn’t used to but wasn’t opposed to. But when the older man moved, he didn’t move towards the door. Instead, he leaned towards Atsushi, hand extended slowly as he reached towards his head. Instantly Atsushi froze, ready to jolt away. But before he could do anything the fingers touched his head. But there was no pain. No agonizing burn as his hair desperately clung to his head despite the tough grip that tried to loosen them. Instead, they brushed through his hair gently for a moment, and then they left. His hand returned to the side and he walked towards the door. He looked over his shoulder at Atsushi as he opened the door and gave him a small nod that Atsushi hesitantly returned, still in shock.

Instantly voices erupted from outside the door but he couldn’t catch their words. He just replayed everything over and over in his mind like a broken record. But it made less and less sense every time he went over it. He expected anger, expected a punishment for being foolish and taking risks. He expected slight praise for taking the shot instead of Dazai. But deep down he knew he expected neither of those. He expected to close his eyes and never open them again. And he was surprisingly more at peace with that than he thought he would be.

His thoughts were interrupted as Kunikida barreled in through the door notebook in hand as he scolded him. Something about self-preservation, Atsushi didn’t pay him much attention. For some reason, the scolding didn’t sting. It didn’t rid him of the feeling he had decided he liked, even if it was a tad foreign for his liking. It wasn’t normal, it made no sense. But he wouldn’t be opposed if one day it was, if one day it did.

Chapter Text

In this strange and unnerving world, there will always be physical touch from someone to another. From a friend or a lover. Atsushi knew for a fact that touch always resulted in pain, a fact that made the world all that more terrifying. Touch was fingers in his hair that gripped so tightly he feared it would rip straight out of his scalp. He could still remember the burn as the hair was roughly ripped away. It left a spot on his head he tried to cover so no one would touch. And touch was pain.

When he was younger he longed for the gentle touch allotted to the other children. although the longer he was away from the orphanage he realized that touch was not gentle at all, just not as rough. Touch to them left bruises instead of broken bones, a red mark instead of red streaks of blood. He could not imagine a world where touch did not mean pain. He could only wish to be in the world of the other children away from cages and the scorching burn of the headmaster's gaze.

The only thing gentle for the other children was one another. They were a lifeline that kept them above the waves, and Atsushi was sinking further with each moment that passed. Like the adults did, he was something the other children could take their frustrations out on. Their shoves were fueled by their own abandonment", their own hunger with each snip of hair as they turned it into a choppy mess. Pain they gave him when they blamed their mistakes on him. He never received their hugs, or the closest thing the children could find to a soft touch, without truly knowing what it was. His arms wrapped around himself was a pale imitation to the embrace of another.

The first thing he heard was the crack. A loud crack resonated throughout the small clearing and the forest around. He heard someone scream something that might have his name, but he couldn’t really make it out caught up in the ear-splitting crack.. He could feel the ground beneath him give way.

Cold, all he could feel was an all-consuming chill that ran through his entire body as he plunged into icy depths. He opened his eyes for a moment and felt pain shoot through his head. He closed them again tightly but not before he could make out his surroundings, or rather, the lack thereof. All he around him was a devastating darkness. The cold locked his limbs in place, but even if he could move them it wouldn't do much good. He was well aware of the humor that with all of his cat like attributes the Tiger is one of the only cat who actually enjoy water. It made him hate it more.

Atsushi knew what it was like to drown. He knew what it was like to have his head forced underwater and held there no matter how hard he scratched his bitten-down nails into the soft flesh of their hands. He knew what it was like for air to leave his lungs only to be replaced with water. But this was different.

His throat burned from the lack of oxygen. In the past, he had been able to take a breath before his head was forced under. But much of his air had been lost from his scream of surprise as he fell. His head felt light as if he could simply float away.

The thick coat he had purchased specifically for the job acted as a weight that pulled him down further into the abyss. How long had it been? A second? Thirdy seconds? A minute? Time was impossible to tell and he was struck with the realization that this is how he could die. Die by drowning in a stupid frozen, and the only person around was Kenji.

Kenji. Sweet, caring Kenji. Someone who could make anyone smile even in the worst of times. Out of everyone in the Agency besides Kyouka, Kenji was the one he hoped he wouldn’t die in front of. He wouldn’t wish the experience of watching someone die right before their eyes on anyone in the Agency, but especially not Kenji. He had managed to keep his childish attitude and outlook on life even in the face of peril most adults could not cope with, and the Agency tried to maintain that as best they could. Atsushi could only hope that he wouldn’t put himself in danger in an attempt to save him. No hell would be deep enough for him.

All of a sudden he felt something slam into his head. It was gone about as quickly as it came before it came down again. This time he felt something alongside him. With all the strength he could muster he raised his hands towards the object from where they had frozen in place at his sides. Through his gloves, he could feel a rough material covering the object, which was thin enough for him to wrap his hands around, as well as small things that poked out from the sides of it. A branch.

Frantically he grasped the branch with all his strength, feeling himself begin to rise out of the depths almost as soon as he was secured. If he was not so worried about holding his breath he could have sobbed with relief.

The second he broke the surface he began gasping for air. Arms gripped him tightly underneath his own and lifted him out of the water. He could barely feel the ice shift underneath him, each gust of cold air was like daggers that cut through his skin. A voice spoke, desperation weakly disguised with a cheerful attitude, but he couldn’t focus on their words.

The next thing he knew he lay in the snow. The sun above bored into his eyes but it took too much energy to try and look away. He knew he shouldn’t close his eyes, that was the one thing he could make out from the voice standing above him, but he was just so tired. Exhaustion pulled at his bones and his eyelids drooped low. He didn’t know why he was cold before, it didn’t make any sense. It couldn’t have been cold only a few moments before if everything was so hot. His fingers fiddled with their gloves for a second as he tried to remove them in an attempt to cool himself from the heat that flowed through him. The voice only became more frantic and he felt a hand gently over his own, effectively stopping him from removing any articles of clothing. Darkness slowly seeped into the sides of his vision as he struggled to keep his eyes open, but it didn’t seem worth it. It wasn’t that important anyways. He could just sleep for a little bit, no harm done. The hands shook his shoulder roughly but to no avail as he slowly slipped away.

No matter the kind of touch, it always hurt. Atsushi used to want someone to scoop him up in their arms and carry him. Not like how they would grip his arm tight enough to leave bruises, tear his shoulder straight out of his socket with a sickening pop and a yelp of agony as they pulled him through the halls of the orphanage. That was when he still had faith in touch. When he still had faith that maybe it wasn’t touching that was the problem, and rather the kind he received. But even on the few occasions it was gentle? It caused pain.

Every part of him burned. The world faded into view and then just as quickly back out of it before he could focus, focus on anything but the pain.. Pain like he’d never felt before, pain he’d only feel one more time before a fatal decision. One that would signal the end of the life he once had known. But it was Atsushi’s safety or the safety of the man and he did the only thing he could. His arms lifted him out from the chair he was strapped into, but they only caused the tears to pour out faster. Each touch aggravated the nerves that had been fried by the electricity that had poured through him.

There was a hand through his hair. It didn’t pull, didn’t grip. But still, it hurt. He cried out as fingers ran through strands of hair. His scalp felt as if a scalpel had been taken to it, flaying the skin and scraping hair away. But the pain came from the slight pull of the hair, not from any actual action. He’d seen it before. He’d seen the other children carefully combing through each other's hair, taking apart knots strand by strand. He always dreamed of someone doing it to him. Someone helping tame his hair rather than making it worse. But now that someone did he realized how painful it was. All he wanted was for him to go away. All he wanted was to be left alone.

He didn’t know what he had done wrong. One moment he had been in his room, tucked away with a book he could barely read, the next, a man he’d never seen before stood over him. A menacing smile on his face that made an uncomfortable sensation of dread wash over him. The Headmaster dragged him out of his room himself. A grip that left dark mottled bruises for days and a slap across his face when he dared to ask what was going on that left a red mark even hours later.

He didn’t know what he had done wrong. He didn’t know the change that day would bring. He didn’t know that would be the end of any delusion of normality and the beginning of long nights, cold cement floors, and bars that kept him locked in his own personal hell. But he couldn’t even appreciate the small touches, things he always dreamt of, and things he knew he would never receive again. He couldn’t appreciate the touches when instead of comfort they only brought pain. That’s really what kept the tears coming. The pain started them but it was the true betrayal that kept them. The betrayal of everything that he had hoped for. The betrayal of the soft touches he had dreamed of, and the reality of the pain they really brought.

Something was touching him. Something in his hair, along his face. Something around his head- no- his head lay on something. Something on his arms. Skin that turned his own skin to ice. The hair on his arms stood up as he froze as still as possible. As if maybe if he stayed as still as he could, the touch wouldn’t start to hurt. That’s what really caught his attention. Something was touching him, but there was no pain. There was a thick fog over his mind that he couldn’t seem to shake. The pain hadn’t set in then. It was the only explanation. With a deep breath, he began to scan through himself. A patient, focused job as he mentally checked himself. At each part of his body, he paused, all of his focus on one area. He would never wish for pain however it was important to know where it came from. Important to know so he could brace himself for when it would hit him like a truck.

There was no problem in his torso, near any internal organs. But that’s where the good news ended. When he tried to move his fingers, there was nothing. If they moved he couldn’t tell, there was only a faint prick of pain tingled in his fingertips as if they were being prodded repeatedly with needles.

His eyes snapped open as he tried to look down at where he thought his hands were. Instead, he saw the weight that kept him on the ground. Tucked carefully around him was a mass of blankets piled so high he could barely see over them. He tried to shift his arms slightly but they were practically pinned to his side. The hand in his hair paused a moment as it came to the side of his face. He flinched away with eyes closed tight. He was well aware of the danger a hand that close to his face brought. Such a sensitive and important area at the mercy of the hands which held it.

“Atsushi?” He knew that voice. The soft, high-pitched voice full of worry. He opened his eyes once more, careful of the bright lights overhead. Peering down at him he saw two blue eyes and he let out a sigh of relief.

“Kenji?” He whispered. His voice felt as if the flesh on his throat had been flayed away and left raw. A cough bubbled up from his chest and shook him violently as the air irritated his throat. He felt Kenji shift slightly from underneath him, the hands pulled away from his face as he grabbed something out of view.

“Can you sit up?” Kenji asked as he placed two hands on Atsushi’s shoulders to help him up. He didn’t flinch, he didn’t. He just moved slightly away rather quickly. Kenji’s hands lessened their pressure as they shifted away slightly, well aware of his reaction. The blankets slid down slightly as he struggled to force his torso upright. Kenji’s hands moved once more to his sides as he helped him sit into a slightly more upright position. His head rested just under Kenji’s who lifted an open water bottle to his lips.

“You need to drink.”

“My hands,” Atsushi said frantically as he tried to move them once more. He felt his arms bend up towards his chest with sluggish movements as if through water. With each movement, he could feel more and more of his arms that had stiffened into place. Finally, he saw his hands come out from underneath the blankets. He froze.

Heat was never deemed a necessity. The tall stone walls and floor did little to insulate the building and the cold drafts cut through their thin and ragged clothing. At night all the children could do was curl up beneath blankets that itched and irritated their skin. Some of the smaller ones would curl up on a bed together to share the warmth. Never Atsushi though.

He didn’t see it when it happened, but he saw the after-effects. She had disappeared in the night. He woke up to see her peering around the doorway before she sprinted out into the hallway. Barefoot in the middle of winter, there was no way she would ever get far. But she hadn’t thought that far in advance, so tired of the hell she was living in. She wasn’t punished for her escape attempt. Instead, she was punished by the cold snow she lay in when it became too much for her frail body to handle. Her feet tracked blood on the floor from painful blisters that oozed with each step, bringing tears to her eyes. Although that was nothing compared to the bloody stumps that remained of over half her fingers. The ones that they were able to salvage were black, frozen beyond recognition of what they once were.

She wasn’t punished for she had already been, but that didn’t stop her from being used as an example for the rest of the children. An example of the world that waited outside for them should they ever try to run from the safety the orphanage so generously provided them. A lesson that had been seared into his head that still remained years later when he was thrown out.

That considered, his hands weren’t that bad. All ten fingers still in place, although they were significantly redder than they should have been. The joints were slightly puffy and he knew it was only a matter of him before the painful blisters began to form.

“I tried to get you out of the cold and your wet clothes as soon as I could,” Kenji said apologetically. Atsushi looked down at his shirt in shock as he realized it was not the same as the one he had been wearing before.

“What, where are we?” He asked as he began to look around the room. The walls were made of dark oak planks. On them hung photographs of a family throughout the years, two adults and two children, whose ages were shown in the pictures that followed them from childhood into adulthood. A warm fire crackled in the firepit along the wall close to them with a few chairs and a wooden table facing it. The furniture was coated in a light layer of dust and the longer he looked around the room the more it seemed like it hadn’t held people in at least a few months or so.

“I’m not sure. A vacation home by the looks of it. The owners probably come during the summer. The forest is probably really pretty then, and it’s only about an hour-long walk to the pond, probably less.”

“An hour? You carried me for an hour?” Atsushi asked as a slight feeling of shame sunk into his stomach. That’s when all of Kenji’s words truly sunk in. His skin crawled with phantom hands as he imagined what he had done to change him from the wet clothes into the dry ones he had managed to find. Hands on his legs, his chest, his arms. Hands that left a mark each place they went.

“I had to get you out of the cold,” He said simply. “I called Yosano and she’s on her way.”

“What about the job?”

“We spent a few hours in the forests and we saw no evidence of anybody out there. Maybe the client was just misinformed. Besides, that always comes after making sure that you’re ok.”

“You could have continued.”

“Nope!” He popped the P for emphasis. “Hypothermia protocol. Can’t leave you alone and you need body heat to warm you up but not too quickly to avoid sending you into shock.” He recited from the minor lecture Yosano had given them before they left. Atsushi was a little preoccupied with Dazai’s shenanigans as he replaced the sugar with salt in the coffee he so kindly gave Kunikida after giving him a stress headache, so he was grateful at least one of them could pay attention.

“Can I play with your hair?”

“What?” The question came out of nowhere and it took him back a moment.

“Well, you were asleep earlier so you wouldn’t notice and I didn’t think it would bother you. But now you're awake, so can I?”

‘No, please don’t,’ he wanted to scream. ‘Please stop touching me. Why are you touching me? What are you doing? Let me go!’

“...Ok.” He wasn’t sure what else to say, what other options he might have had. Kenji wasn’t the type to get angry. He had seen him face down those who wished him harm with a smile on his face and was told about the awe he held when he first saw Nakahara even when the other was threatening everything he had. But the fear he had was deeper than that. A fear that had been beaten into his bones. He knew not to make the person who had control over him mad. And if there was going to be touch, the least he could do was try to minimize the pain.

“We had this cat back on my family's farm,” Kenji said as his hand slowly and carefully landed atop his head, so gently he almost couldn’t feel it. “We found her in a little box left out in a rainstorm. Never knew where she came from or what happened to her. But she was pretty jumpy, really skittish. It took a long time before she would let anyone near her, even me, and animals usually love me!” His hand began to twirl through the long path of hair that had remained untouched by scissors for the most part. He slowly ran his fingers through his hair before he started again.

“My dad told me that she liked us, just didn’t really trust us. And all we could do was show her that we weren’t going to hurt her like other people might have.” He paused for a moment but his hand didn’t stop in its movements. “You kind of remind me of her.”

“What do you mean?” Atsushi said slowly.

“I know that you don’t really like touch, the whole Agency knows and we try to avoid that. But when someone does touch you, you freeze up like you’re scared something’s gonna happen.” Kenji’s casual tone was almost comical as he exposed things Atsushi himself tried not to think about. “That and you purr in your sleep.”

“I what?” He turned quickly to look at Kenji, a mix of horror and embarrassment on his face as his cheeks heated up. Kenji only laughed.

“It’s ok! It was only when I played with your hair.” He turned away quickly to hide his face which had turned bright red. He waited a moment for the reaction, maybe pain or humiliation, but it never came. Instead, Kenji continued to play with his hair and talk like nothing had happened. Talk like his actions the whole day hadn’t dropped a bomb on everything Atsushi thought he knew. He talked about the animals on the farm with a contagious childlike joy that passed to Atsushi as he imagined the scenery in his head. He could almost pretend like he wasn’t still on edge, pretend like he still wasn’t living in fear. But the pain never came, only soft gentle touches that warmed his chest with a fire he’d rarely felt. He wouldn’t complain if that wasn’t a one-time occasion, though knowing Kenji? It wouldn’t be.

Chapter Text

In Atsushi’s life there was never a truly calm moment. The orphanage was his own personal hell that brought on torture each day. There were some things he had gotten used to; he was used to the beatings, to the cold, and to the cage they locked him away in. However, there were too many new factors each time. It would have been easier if they kept it the same, if he knew what to expect, but with the constant change it was near impossible to have a moment where he knew what would happen. A moment where things might be ok. There was a point when he thought that might happen. When he had grown used to the cage and the emotional agony it brought him, especially after they boarded up his only access to a world less painful than his own. That’s when they hammered a large, thick, rusted nail into his foot piercing bone and muscle alike.

When there was a moment to breathe at the Agency, that’s when he knew he should have braced himself for the worst. There might be peace in the eye of the hurricane but what occurs right after is more devastating than before. But he hadn’t braced himself, too ensnared by the peace of his new life. Well, there was never true peace, per say. There were always jobs, always criminals to catch and less than vague threats from the Port Mafia even if they did have a tender truce. But overall, everything was alright. That should have been his first warning that there was something to come. Nothing good like that ever came without a price; he had just never expected it to be so high.

It was supposed to be easy, an in-and-out kind of situation. There was a small group that had formed on the edges of the Port Mafia’s territory, not big enough to draw their attention, but big enough to warrant further examination before it inevitably would. Usually, they would leave that up to them, but they had received multiple concerned calls from the locals of that area. Apparently, they had taken a page from the Mafia’s book and started harassing store owners into paying them protection money. However, unlike the Mafia, they lacked the actual manpower needed to fully hold up their end of the bargain. Stores that paid the Port Mafia protection money were not only protected from the Mafia themselves, but also from any other crimes that would take place in the area, such as thieves, smaller gangs, and robberies. Instead, they were simply harassing the store owners into paying them money with no benefits to go with it.

There had already been one civilian casualty but it was still an easy job, Atsushi had set out with Tanizaki and Kenji earlier in the morning. During the debriefing they had been told there weren’t any ability users present in the group, so Kenji and him were there for strength in fighting, and Tanizaki tagged along in case anything went awry. If they had heard about any ability users they would have sent in more people, and would have taken extra precautions. Kenji was formidable but still young, Atsushi didn’t have the experience yet, and while Tanizaki had proved well in combat when it came down to a fight he wasn’t the best they had. But just because they hadn’t heard of one didn’t mean she wasn’t there.

One moment the world around him was filled with shouts and the screeching of metal as Kenji joyfully ripped sheets of metal apart to use as weapons. Then there was nothing.

Everything hurt. There was a sharp pain in his head that pulsated throughout his body as he lay helplessly on the ground. When did he get on the ground? His eyelids felt heavy and it was a chore to force them open. The hot midday sun burned into his eyes and he quickly turned his head away, towards the building that the gang had been using as a hideout. His heart sank.

Carnage was strewn around. Bodies slumped on the ground, some missing limbs that he could see a few feet away from their torso. Necks torn to shreds and he couldn’t even spot where the heads were. Everything painted in the same horrific shade of red. Bodies on top of bodies until he couldn’t tell where one ended and another began. Blood splattered on the once-white wall. Handprints against it that smeared down to the ground indicative the fall as they were slaughtered where they stood. Guns lay crushed to pieces in the puddles of blood around them that spread further with every second he sat staring at the wreckage around him.

The sharp acrid smell of blood hit his nose and he gagged violently. He leaned over to vomit but nothing came up, instead just the intense burn of acid bubbled up in his throat. He raised a hand up to his neck on instinct but he jerked it away after realizing. His skin was coated in something, something wet and warm. He already knew what it was even before he moved it in front of his face. Blood.

Frantically, he lurched forward to look down at his hands. They were covered as well, blood beginning to crust underneath his torn fingernails. His shirt was soaked through and he could feel how it grotesquely clung to his skin. The rest of his clothes were no better. He tried to think back, tried to recall anything that might have helped, but there was nothing.

Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder. He whipped around, arms raised to protect himself from whoever, whatever, had done this, only to find that towering over him was Dazai. He removed his hand quickly, almost as if he had been burned. His face was contorted into a scowl that Atsushi hadn’t seen in ages. He had disappointed him before, he knew what that was supposed to look like. It was the look Dazai had given him when he hit him across the face. Atsushi had known that he deserved to be hit then, that he had deserved the disappointment. Dazai was often a hard man to read, but it was clear that this was different. He gave the same look the Headmaster did, looking at Atsushi the way he would an animal. And the way he held himself, not rooted in place but ready to move at any second, Atsushi knew he was being handled like one.

“Dazai, what happened?” He asked as he shifted forward to stand. Instead Dazai kicked his shoulder roughly and he collapsed to the ground, face collided with the rough concrete below. He felt small rocks dig into his soft flesh as he looked back up at Dazai, who brought his leg back to the ground and eyed him wearily.

“Of course you don’t remember,” His usual joking tone was gone. Instead were words of pure steel and vitriol. He leaned down and gripped Atsushi’s jaw tightly as he twisted it towards the side, towards the massacre. “You did this.”

Atsushi’s head spun.

“No, no, no that’s not possible,” Hands were in his hair. He tried to turn away but they only gripped tighter. So tight that it burned, so tight that it felt like each strand was going to be ripped out. Not like Kenji had done before, no, this was like the Headmaster. He closed his eyes, clenched them tight. With his eyes closed he could pretend none of this was real, even if he could still feel the dirt, sweat, and grime that covered him. His skin wet with blood, the blood he had strewn.

Dazai let go and he collapsed back in on himself. His nails dug into his arms. First thin white lines then red as they sharpened slightly and began to slice through his skin. The small droplets of blood mixed with what had already been shed.

His hands were forced away and he felt something metal click into place around his wrists so tightly he could see the indent they caused as they pushed into him. He knew what they were, he’d been placed in them many times before. After all, it’s easy to move a child when they can’t use their hands, at that point it's practically useless to try and run. But when he looked up it was even worse. Attached to the middle of the cuffs was a short metal chain. The other end wrapped securely around Dazai’s hand. A leash.

“What are you doing?”

“You’re a threat. Maybe you are more animal than human after all.” Dazai said disappointedly. Without warning, he yanked the chain up. Atsushi was flung forward, his legs skidded across the ground as he scrambled to get to his feet. Dazai didn’t stop, he continued to walk briskly forwards as Atsushi struggled behind him. Tears began to flow down his face as he pleaded for Dazai to stop, even just for a minute so he could gather his bearings. He knows he wouldn’t, Dazai would never give a threat a moment to attack, and Atsushi knew that's all that he had become.

“Where are Kenji and Tanizaki?” He asked desperately as they approached a car he didn’t recognize.

“They had to be sent back to the Agency quickly so Yosano could treat them.” Dazai opened the back and threw him inside. Before he could do anything he was forced down as more chains tied his legs together. “Apparently she used her ability as soon as they had arrived. Tiger claws can be deadly.”

As his breath stopped suddenly he could picture the scene. Tanizaki upon the pile of carnage. His eyes open and vocal cords clipped, silencing his cries. Kenji against the wall. His hands clutched his side as blood poured out. Wounds from claws that struck them down where they stood. They never knew what was coming. They didn’t even have time to scream.

The car began to move but he could barely feel it. His joints ached from the position they had been forced into by the tight chains, and his arms fared no better, twisted painfully behind his back. It felt as if they were going to pop out of their sockets any second. Tears mixed with blood dripped down onto the leather seats where they spilled into his hair. He watched them slip off the seat and drip down to the carpeted floor. He didn’t try to mask his sobs, only grateful Dazai didn’t gag him so he had at least that. Cries mixed with pleas of pure desperation for mercy.

The car came to a stop all too soon, and the door behind him swung open as a gust of wind rushed past. He felt the chains around his legs loosen until they slipped away and he rolled his ankles experimentally. There was no damage, and if there was then it would have been healed long before. There was a pressure on the chains that held his arms together, and the next thing he knew he was forced back. His head collided with the door frame as he was unceremoniously dragged from the car. With no time to catch his balance, he toppled over onto the concrete below. He lay dazed on the ground for a moment before the pressure came again. He began to be pulled across the cement and towards what he recognized from the buildings around as the Agency’s office.

He didn’t want to think about what he must look like. A tall, lanky man covered in bandages who had been in the news more than once for his heroic deeds solving cases and helping people pulling a young sobbing man in chains towards the office. He forced his sobs down as they entered the building, remembering the lessons he had learned as a child. The more fuss you made the more punishment you would receive; no one wants to put up with a crying, whining, insolent child. And even though he had grown, he never outgrew that fact.

Luckily there was no one in the cafe at the moment so there was no one else to see this obvious sign of weakness and exploit it. Not that anyone could more than Dazai already was. His limbs bumped against tables, chairs, and walls as they left the cafe and began to ascend the staircase, which was tricky. Limbs tumbled over limbs as he attempted to catch his balance. Every time he was sure he had gotten his feet under him Dazai would yank on the chain and he would fall again.

It was worse if he fought back, it always was. The more he fought back the more painful the process would be even before he got his real punishment. Any attempt to escape would be met with hands that held him so tight it felt as if his bones were about to snap. Or chains that cut off circulation to the hands the more he tried to pull away. He tried to remain still, he really did. But the Tiger inside him wouldn’t. It screamed to hide, to run, to fight until there was nothing more to fight for. Fight until the threat was vanquished. Even if he knew that, on the larger scale, he was the threat.

The second he was dragged into the office, he felt all eyes on him. An intense heat as they burned straight into him. Hesitantly he raised his head to look around. It took only a second before he wished he had kept it down.

Tanikazi stood in front of Naomi, his arm across her chest to keep her safe. Atsushi was filled with relief at the sight that he was ok, he was alive, but it vanished within seconds. Panic was clear in his eyes as he tentatively raised a hand to his throat, the skin still caked in dried blood. Kenji stood beside him, his eyes full of unshed tears. No matter the situation, Kenji always managed to keep a contagious smile on his face. Atsushi had never seen the look he wore now, one of horror. His shirt was slashed open and torn to shreds where claws had stuck him down. Blood soaked his clothing and matted his blond hair, the only evidence left of what happened, what he had done. He stepped forward slightly as he opened his mouth to say something, to say anything. All possibilities vanished as he saw Kenji flinch. A sharp, violent action as he curled back in on himself. The sight was worse than any injury Atsushi had sustained and words died in his throat.

Dazai’s hand clenched around his shoulder before he shoved him down to the floor. He couldn’t hear his cry of pain as the chains pulled taught around his wrists but he felt the agony it caused. Something wet trickled down his hand from where the chains dug into the skin but he barely noticed.

“It’s ready,” He heard Yosano enter the room. Her voice has the sickening sadistic tone that sometimes slipped into her words, serious but with a slight tinge of excitement. Dazai didn’t let him get back up before he grabbed the chains around his wrist with one hand and his wrist with his other. He knew how to subdue a threat, especially one that could escape so easily. On his feet he could run, could fight, could do more damage. It would be more difficult for him to do any damage if he was already down.

That’s when he saw it.

From the beginning, the Armed Detective Agency didn’t make sense. Everything they did was just so foreign to him. Hands that helped instead of hurt, words that were careful instead of cutting. This was more familiar. On the streets life was horrible beyond belief. When he had to curl in on himself begging a dumpster for protection from the icy rain he had been caught in, he would remind himself of his freedom. No metal bars to hold him in place. No cage to confine him in. Especially not one small enough to fit in the corner of her office. No, he would rather die than go back to what he was before.

He felt the chill of No Longer Human vanish for a second and he moved. He yanked his arms apart as hard as he could using the Tigers' strength and felt the chains break away. Shouts filled the space as footsteps thudded toward him. Frantically he curled up into the fetal position, arms out in front of him. Then, without hesitation, he plunged the claws into his arm. A burning, overwhelming sense of agony burst from his arm as blood gushed and squirted from punctured veins and arteries. Was he screaming? He might have been.

Thick red blood mixed with what was already crusted on his pants. It gushed out from the gashes and spilled over onto the floor. It hurt to move, hurt to breathe. Every part of him was in a state of overwhelming agony, but it wasn’t enough. If the Tiger kept him alive through his appendages being torn off then there was no chance this would do anything. Still, he had to try.

The orphanage preached words from a merciful God above. They used his name through punishments in an attempt to force them into believing. All they did was teach the pain of his so-called love. Still, Atsushi sent a silent prayer of desperation. Maybe if there was a merciful God then he would spare something for Atsushi. He would let him die.

Hands met his own but not before he dragged his claws down his other forearm severing skin and tissue alike. No resistance against his sharpened claws that cut like knives. This time he was aware of his blood-curdling screams that ripped through his throat as hands pulled his wrists away harshly. Their fingers dug into the open wounds and made him scream louder. The chill of No Longer Human washed over him again but he couldn’t determine from whereas hands grabbed at him from all angles. He felt a sharp prick in his neck and turned around just in time to see Kunikida pull a large needle out of his neck.

“What- what did you…” He trailed off slowly as he slumped to the floor. The world turned into a hazy blur until the people above him turned to abstract shapes. Arms slipped underneath him and he was lifted into the air as someone carried him away into Yosano’s office, towards the cage.

“Please don’t do this,” He whispered. His head fell to the side. He didn’t know if it was because of what Kunikida had given him or just his own reluctance to meet their eyes again. His limbs dangled from their grasp limply, heavy as if held down by weights. He watched the blood stream down his arms and onto the ground, a morbid trail behind him.

“Stop, please stop,” All he could do was cry. His tongue felt large and heavy in his mouth, each word hard to form. It was pointless to even try, but still he had to do anything.

“Kunikida please don’t do this,” With all his might he lifted his head to look up at him, but Kunikida didn’t meet his eyes. Instead he only set him down harshly on the ground and took a set of keys from Yosano who had followed along behind him.

“Yosano please,” She only turned around. He heard the cage open.

“Dazai,” He was cut off by a sob. Dazai just stood there, his eyes blank yet unforgiving. He didn’t so much as move, let alone even address his begs. Kunikida bent down and rolled him out of his arms. He hit the ground with a thud, the chains that had been tied around him went slack and he turned over his shoulder to see Kunikida unlock the cuffs. Just before he slammed the cage door shut. He was supposed to be free.

He tried to push himself up on his arms, to go hide in the corner like he always had, but whatever Kunikida had given him had sapped his strength and all he could do was lay there. Lay in a pathetic heap on the floor, his body slightly convulsing from the violent tremors that ran through him. The skin on his arms slowly started to knit back together. It was a hopeless attempt to escape hell that he knew wouldn’t work. But there was no getting out, there never was and there never will be. He now knew that.

No matter how fast or how far he ran, there would be no place for him. No sanctuary, no solace. Those are things reserved for those who deserve it. The Headmaster told him that nothing he did could compare to what his parents did to him, the people that were supposed to protect him. He didn’t remember any of it but sometimes he would startle awake, the faint image of a knife he didn’t recognize but a scar that he did. Life at the orphanage was hell and the Headmaster was more than pleased to make it worse. The Agency was supposed to be different. They were supposed to be better.

Words spilled out through his lips without him even noticing. A constant stream of begging, calling out for people he knew wouldn’t come for him interrupted by broken sobs. His head pounded and the room seemed to spin around him. A black haze crept into his vision slowly but he didn’t try to fight it. He was done fighting, done fighting for a life that no one else would. All he could do was hope that whatever Kunikida had given him would be lethal. The cries ceased as the world around him grew fainter until he finally shut his eyes and dreamt for death.

Chapter Text

The second Atsushi fell, Tanizaki knew something was very, very wrong. There had been no reason to worry going into the day. Just a small group, something they had done before with no problem, and they had checked to make sure that there were going to be no ability users. Even the presence of one drastically changes the situation and they had been reassured that there wouldn’t be. He heard a sharp cry of pain and turned around just in time to see Atsushi crumple to the floor. He hit the ground with a thud and blood began to seep through his hair, although Tanizaki couldn’t see exactly where the injury was. Above him stood a tall, lanky figure, their face covered by a weird sort of burlap sack. In his hand was a large, empty needle.

“What the hell did you do?” Tanizaki shouted as he ran forwards towards them. The man reached into his jacket pocket and threw something onto the ground. Instantly a loud plume of smoke overwhelmed them. He couldn’t see past his fingertips much less to Atsushi or the man. Training kicked in as he shut his eyes tight to make sure no more gas burned them, although he could already feel the fiery pain that stabbed into them. He stumbled back, one hand around his throat as he violently coughed and the other behind him to make sure he didn’t run into anything in his frantic escape. The chemicals burned with every breath and he desperately tried to escape to fresh air. It was only a few seconds before he reached it but it felt like ages. He gasped for air around a violent fit of coughs that burst out from his chest, and by the sound next to him it seemed like Kenji hadn’t fared much better. An engine roared towards them before it screeched to a halt, Tanizaki looking up just in time to see the odd man leap into the black car before the driver sped away.

Kenji took one last deep breath before he rushed back into the smoke to retrieve Atsushi. He heard a loud groan over his shoulder and turned back around to see the man he had been fighting with right before. His gun lay in pieces across the ground from where Kenji had stepped on it and by the unnatural bend in his leg, Tanizaki knew he posed no further threat.

“Who was that? What did he do?” He demanded as he gripped the collar of the man's shirt tightly and shook him slightly.

“I’m not telling you shit,” The man said as he spat a glob of blood out at Tanizaki. They both watched as it fell back onto the man's shirt, staining the white fabric further.

“Let's try it this way,” Tanizaki said as he took a deep breath to calm himself. He set the man back down on the ground and crouched slightly next to him with a soft yet stern smile. “You are going to jail for a very, very long time. There’s no getting out of that. However, if you’re willing to cooperate and tell me who that was I will be able to work out a plea deal for a lighter sentence.” The man looked him up and down suspiciously before he glanced back towards the building that had once been their hideout.

“Fine,” He took a deep breath. “I don’t know his real name, no one does. He calls himself Scarecrow and you can pay him to help you out for a bit. He’s an ability user.”

“What’s his ability?”

“He makes you see stuff, that’s all I know.” Tanizaki nodded before he reached into his back pocket where he had kept a spare set of handcuffs. He never carried them around like the others did, only on jobs where they knew arrests would be made. He kicked the man over onto his back. A tad harsher than he knew he deserved as he wasn’t the one who had the ability, but it was still his group that put them in that situation.

“Hey! What about our deal!” The man shouted as Tanizaki clasped the cuffs over his wrists.

“What deal?” He asked as he stood and hurried over to Kenji who had emerged from the smoke with Atsushi hung limp over his shoulder.

“The one about my sentence! You said you’d talk to the police!”

“If I didn’t sign anything then there was no deal,” The corners of his lips twitched up into a small smile. The man began to scream a long string of expletives but he paid him no mind. Kenji gently rested Atsushi on the ground as Tanizaki untied his sweatshirt from around his waist and arranged it gently underneath his head to keep it away from the debris from their fight. Kenji began to check his unconscious form, gently moving his chin up to open his airway further while Tanizaki pulled out his phone to call for help. He regretted their decision not to take a car. It wasn’t a far walk to the nearest train station and Kenji insisted they go out after finding out that Atsushi had never had ice cream before, that it was a true emergency. Something that seemed important then, just so trivial only hours later. He hit the call button as it rang once, twice, three times.

“Hello!!” Dazai’s cheerful voice crackled through the speaker, but Tanizaki wasted no time on pleasantries.

“The information was wrong. There was an ability user.”

“What.” Instantly his tone changed, with no remnants of the cheerful tone he had only a moment before. When Dazai went serious Tanizaki knew that it was bad.

“It turned into a fight and somehow the user snuck up on Atsushi. He used a needle and put something in his neck, then he passed out.”

“Did you catch him?”

“No,” Shame flooded through him as his face flushed slightly. “He got away. One of the guys called him Scarecrow.”

“Stay right where you are!” He heard a scuffle over the phone as Ranpo spoke, seemingly having ripped the phone from Dazai. His tone was so unlike his normal uninterested vice, more serious than he heard in a while. “Do not try to move him and no matter what he does or what he says, keep him safe. Dazai is on his way now.”

“What do you mean?” Tanizaki asked only to be met with no response and he looked down only to realize Ranpo had hung up.

“Who was that?” Kenji asked as Tanizaki stared at the ground for a moment attempting to control his breathing, panic would do no good for either of them. He looked over at Kenji who had shifted Atsushi into the recovery position on his side, his head rested on his outstretched arm.

“Ranpo, Dazai’s on his way now. They said to keep an eye on him and keep him safe.”

“What does that mean?”

“I,” he hesitated as he crouched down next to Kenji who knocked their shoulders together. Tanizaki wanted to do something to help remove the concerned look on the usually bubbly boy's face, but there was nothing he could do. “I don’t know. But no matter what he does or what he says, we need to keep him safe.”

Ten minutes passed in a tense silence. Neither of them knew what to say, knew what to do. So they both just stared at Atsushi who didn’t wake. The only movement came from his chest as he breathed shallow breaths. At one point Tanizaki had pressed his ear to his mouth to make sure he was really breathing and not just his chest moving as he had been taught to in their mandatory first aid training. But while there was a slight wheeze in his breath, he was otherwise alright. There was nothing they could do but wait.

He looked up as he heard a car approach, no, two cars approached fast before they skidded to a halt near them. Kunikida quickly got out of his, only after checking twice to make sure he had properly turned the engine off like he always did. Dazai got out from behind the wheel of a car Tanizaki didn’t recognize. He stared for a second as he realized he had always just assumed the man couldn’t drive as any time he was with someone they insisted on driving. Although knowing Dazai he could assume why. After all, people who don’t seem to have anything to live for always seem to drive like it.

“Tanizaki, take Kenji and go back to the Agency,” Kunikida ordered as he walked towards him. Tanizaki wanted to protest, wanted to stay and help. But there was something in Kunikida’s voice, almost a sense of fear that shut his mouth. He nodded and took the keys from Kunikida’s hand, gesturing for Kenji to follow. There was nothing for him to do, and he could tell by the look on Kunikida’s face that he didn’t know either.

Only seconds after Dazai heard the car’s engine fade out of earshot, Atsushi moved. His head moved slightly as he curled in on himself. Dazai pressed his hand against the side of his face but nothing happened, no bright light that signified the effect of No Longer Human on the ability. Like the cannibalism ability placed over Fukuzawa, his ability would only work on the ability user themself, not their unlucky victim. Kunikida stood behind Atsushi’s back and Dazai quickly moved him away so his shadow wouldn’t loom over Atsushi. He didn’t know what he would see. There had been no reports of this ability being used against any civilians, only on a few petty criminals and they didn’t last too long under the horrific hallucinations. There were no survivors. It seemed to work similarly to Q’s and Dazai had seen what that could do.

Slowly his head tilted up towards the sky as he rolled slightly out of the recovery position. Kunikida moved forward to correct it if needed but Dazai held out his hand in front of his chest and he stopped. Atsushi fluttered his eyes open slowly to the sky before he flinched away from the sun. He rested his cheek down on the ground as he opened his eyes once more. Then he froze.

His entire body stiffened, eyes wide as he stared in horror at the scene in front of him. Suddenly he pushed himself up slightly before he started to gag violently. He raised a hand to his neck and a mouthful of bile fell to the ground. Dazai looked over to Kunikida who froze right where Dazai told him to. They glanced at each other for a moment before they looked back at the boy. Kunikida had seen him sick before but neither of them had seen him react to a scene like that. He pulled his hand away from his neck and slowly brought it in front of his face, frantically pushing himself back onto his knees and bent over, curled in on himself as he looked at his hands. His breaths became shallow and ragged as looked up at the area around him and back to his hands.

“Atsushi?” Dazai said as carefully and calmly as he could. Everyone who interacted with the boy for even a moment could tell of his hypervigilance. The way that he monitored every motion someone near him would make. The way he seemed to keep an eye on every person in a room so as to never be caught off guard. And the Tiger's ability no doubt added to that. So for him not to respond to his name, not respond to someone so close to him, something was extremely wrong. There was only one thing left to try and get his attention and Dazai knew it would only end badly, but he had to try. Slowly he reached out and tapped his shoulder lightly.

Atsushi whirled around like he had been burned. He raised his arms over his face for protection as he peered around them. Again, he froze. He looked straight into Dazai’s eyes but he seemed unfocused, like there was a slight haze in his eyes.

“Dazai, what happened?” Quickly he tried to push himself to his feet. And Dazai moved forward quickly to try and lead him toward the ground. He rarely worked the Q, only when he absolutely had to. But he knew that a majority of injuries came from when the victim tried to walk. Unable to focus on details or obstacles, for some unable to even know where they were, led to multiple concussions and death when a man stumbled onto the train tracks in his state of delusion. Dazai touched his shoulder one more as he attempted to grab his other side to push him back down. Atsushi gasped as he reeled backward and crashed to the ground. Face collided with the rough ground below and when he looked back up, his eyes filled with fear, there were a few red lines drawn across his cheekbone.

“What are you doing?” Kunikida asked quietly as Dazai bent down to Atsushis level.

“I need to test his awareness,” Dazai said as he examined Atsushi for a moment more before he hesitantly reached a hand out to his face. “He can hear and see something but this close up if there was anything connecting him to reality he would have reacted.”

Atsushi stared blankly at Dazai’s face but the second his hand brushed against his skin he jolted away.

“No, no, no that's not possible,” He cried as he brought his knees up to his chest in an attempt to make himself as small as possible. His hands gripped the strands of his hair tight enough that Dazai worried they might rip straight out. Blood started to seep through his white hair as his hands shifted slightly into paws, the claws against his scalp. With a sharp yelp of pain, he pulled his hands away from his hair and wrapped them protectively around his knees. The claws retracted for a moment but the harder he dug his nails into the soft flesh of his arms the more they shifted and soon blood started to pour from there as well. Dazai moved forward and grabbed his wrists. Atsushi tried to pull away as a blue light illuminated around them and his claws retracted in but Dazai held them for a moment before he gestured for Kunikida to take his place. As inhumane as it seemed and as Atsushi began to hyperventilate it was better than his self-injury.

“We need to get him back to Yosano now. I’ll start the car, don’t move him until I say so.” Dazai ordered as he straightened up and moved for the car, careful to leave the back door open as he entered the driver's side to start the car. He had read the reports. He knew their reaction, knew details about the nightmare that had been Atsushi’s life, and what he could gather from his near-incomprehensible babbling that had started as he walked away. He knew the second Kunikida picked him up, that's when the torture would really start. Kunikida looked over at him. He nodded. Then, the screaming started.

Atsushi rarely showed pain. Time and time again he had been stabbed, cut, shot, and went through it all with gasps and minor shouts from surprise and agony. He heard Atsushi during his initial fight with Akutagawa, where his leg had been completely severed. He screamed for a moment but more out of shock than anything. Where it should have completely immobilized him, left him with nothing to do but scream, instead somehow he kept his focus as long as he could. Never did he truly vocalize his pain or agony. But he screamed.

An incoherent mess of sobs, pleas, and wails of despair as he attempted to launch himself out of Kunikida’s arms. The surprise, violent movement caused Kunikida to stumble slightly as Atsushi flung himself forward. Kunikida caught his arms and pinned them slightly to his torso as he unceremoniously dragged him the last few steps to the car.

“Where are Kenji and Tanizaki?” He asked, finally coherent enough to form the sentence.

“They are ok,” Kunikida said uncharacteristically softly, but they both knew that's not what the boy heard as he let out a cry of despair. “They are safe.” He clambered into the backseat and pulled Atsushi in after him. His feet caught on the doorframe as he attempted to escape his grasp, but they wound up inside the car as Dazai quickly left the driver's seat to push his feet in behind him and slammed the door behind. Atsushi flinched violently at the sound but Dazai only climbed back into the driver's seat. He knew it likely wasn’t best to startle him but time was not something they had.

“Don’t handcuff him,” Dazai said as he slammed on the gas. The car emitted a loud screech as the tires suddenly sped into motion, something Dazai knew he would have been scolded for had Kunikida’s full attention not been on the boy in his lap. One thing about Kunikida that he appreciated in a time like this, was his predictability. After all, being partners, he knew him best out of everyone in the Agency and he knew what his thoughts were. “There's potential he could hurt himself worse on those and they would just cause more distress.”

He didn’t turn around but he faintly heard Kunikidas' words of understanding that were almost drowned out by Atsushi's despair. His eyes focused on the road ahead as Atsushi's cries reverberated in his skull. As irrational as it was, he felt if he looked in the mirror to see the boy he would catch a glimpse of a bandaged eye in his own reflection.

The car ride was too long even though Dazai was sure he broke more traffic rules than he could count if he even bothered to try. Each second felt like minutes. He had hoped that Atsushi would eventually tire but the longer he was under the ability the worse he seemed to get.

He didn’t bother to find a place to park the car. Instead, he simply pulled up to the sidewalk in front of the Agency and turned off the ignition. Kunikida opened the door and tried to pull Atsushi out as gently as he could although he was no match for the strength provided by Beast Beneath the Moonlight. Atsushi thrust himself out of his grasp and slammed his head into the doorframe with a crack before he practically fell out of the car. He collapsed on the concrete with a thud as Dazai and Kunikida frantically rushed out of the car. Atsushi lay there for a moment, dazed by the fall, before he started to move again. Kunikida crouched by his side and began to pull him to his feet carefully. Dazai took his hands and watched as No Longer Human flowed into his once more Kunikida gripped his arms tightly to prevent another fall as Dazai helped pull him to his feet.

The last thing Dazai wanted him to do was walk, however, the damage could be worse if Kunikida tried to carry him again. Luckily he didn’t need to explain this, and Kunikida wrapped his arms around the side of his torso stiffly to walk alongside him as Dazai held his hands.

The walk through the cafe was nothing short of a disaster and Dazai was grateful there were no patrons at the moment. The owner took one look at the situation before he nodded to Dazai and quickly made his exit. Atsushi seemed to slam into everything he could. His feet shot out from under him every other second as he squirmed and shook. So frantic he nearly took Kunikida down with him and it was all they could do but try and lead him through to the staircase. They took one look at the stairs before Kunikida bent down slightly and hoisted Atsushi up ungracefully onto his hip as he pulled his feet up and off the floor. Dazai walked backward up the stairs awkwardly to keep an eye on him as he held the boy's wrists together. His cries quieted slightly but blood began to well up from his lips where his teeth dug into the soft flesh to hold them back. It was a miracle they were even able to get him up the stairs, much less without further injury to him or themselves.

The second they stepped foot into the Agency everyone jumped up. Kyouka rushed towards them before Naomi put out an arm in front of her and shook her head solemnly. They all froze as Dazai continued to lead him into the room. Kunikida let his feet touch the floor and he stumbled forwards before he crashed to the ground. Slowly, Atsushi raised his head to look up and froze. Dazai watched as his eyes flickered around the room in horror, his sobs dying in his throat as his shoulders dipping low as he curled in on himself.

“Dazai?” Kenji asked quietly as he shuffled slightly into Tanizaki’s side who wrapped his arm around the younger boy. Atsushi turned his head towards Kenji but his eyes seemed to almost look through him. Whatever he saw caused

“How much can he see?” Dazai hadn’t noticed him at first, but Fukuzawa stood in the doorway to his office. His eyebrows knit together to reveal his concern that he worked to mask from the others so as to not spark further fear.

“He is in a state of complete psychosis,” Kunikida said as Dazai placed his hand on Atsushi’s shoulder. He violently flinched away but Dazai wrapped his fingers around and held on lightly. He didn’t want to hurt him and it wasn’t something he could be slapped out of like with his meltdown after being under Q’s ability. He didn't regret it, seeing as it had worked at the time, but he did drink himself unconscious when he thought about what Oda would have said.

“He can see his surroundings for the most part, and he can see people, but he cannot hear and is reacting to severe visual hallucinations.”

“Where is Ranpo?” Dazai demanded as he heard a door to his right swing open.

“He’s out with Poe trying to hunt down the mother fucker who did this,” Yosano said bitterly as she stepped out of her office and into the main room. “We need to get him on a bed, it’s more dangerous for him to be standing or moving too much.”

Kunikida wrapped his arms underneath Atsushi’s as he gently pulled him to his feet. Dazai held his hands carefully to ensure he wouldn’t try to fight. Atsushi’s eyes were trained on Yosano and grew wider by the second as he began to shake violently. His jaw clenched as he swallowed nervously, his chest shaking with frantic, shallow breaths. Kunikida moved to pick him up and Dazai let go of his hands for a second.

That’s when all hell broke loose.

Without hesitation, Atsushi suddenly thrashed in his arms. His arms grew slightly as the Tiger’s strength kicked in, and he launched himself away from Kunikida, and hit the ground with a thud as everyone rushed forward. Atsushi scrambled away as fast as he could before he curled into himself against a desk, his face forward and his forearms in front of him.

Time seemed to slow as Dazai realized with a wave of dread what he was going to do. Atsushi's hand turned slightly, large claws like before. Then, without hesitation, he drew his claws against his arms.

Blood poured out as his skin ripped out underneath his claws, bright red blood squirting out from his slashed artery. The cuts were so deep that they must have gone halfway through his arm. Noise exploded through the air, his loud screams of agony bounced off the walls and filled the space. He could hear Kenji’s screams, Tanizaki's curses, Kyouka's gasps. But it all just seemed to blend together into one big mass of noise.

Dazai was only a foot away when he reached out and dragged his claws, covered in the blood from its severed veins, over his other arm. He screamed again as he violently rocked back and forth, his head bashing into the desk behind him with each motion that didn’t seem to phase him. It was only a tiny bit of pain compared to what he’d done. Far was it from the least painful way to go, and a deep pit formed in Dazai’s stomach as his mind flashed back to each attempt like it. Blood sprayed out over Dazai's white shirt and seeped into his bandages as he gripped Atsushi's hands which only caused him to scream more. His claws retracted back into his hands but with his skin contact the Tigers regeneration could not work. The wounds nearly shredded halfway through his arm, Atsushi didn’t have a few moments to spare with No Longer Human.

“Yosano!” He yelled over the cacophony of chaos and she was at his side in seconds, a needle in hand. She handed it off to Kunikida as she packed large pads of gauze into the cuts and under the skin to try and stop the bleeding. Kunikida pressed the needle into his neck and released the sedative within.

“What- what did you…” Atsushi asked as he looked over at Kunikida, eyes full of betrayal before he slumped to the floor. Dazai caught his head with his free hand before it hit the tile. His other hand held tight to Atsushi’s until no skin was untouched by the thick, hot blood. Carefully Kunikida wrapped his arms around him once more and lifted him up into the air.

“Please, don’t do this,” Atsushi whispered as his head rolled to the side. “Stop, please stop.”

Dazai quickly followed Yosano into her office, Kunikida right behind him. She shoved two restraints into his hands. He recognized them as the ones used in hospitals to restrain a patient without causing any further damage. He fastened them to the side of the gurney-like bed and stepped back as Yosano retrieved more bandages from a cabinet. Atsushi continued to beg each of their names one by one, pleading for them to stop.

“Dazai,” Kunikida gently set him down on the bed, Dazai didn’t allow himself to pause, holding the bandages down as Yosano applied more. Atsushi didn’t fight against the restraints, he didn’t have any fight left in him. He just lay there and cried. His begs turned into incomprehensible mumbles interrupted by sobs until finally, they ceased. Dazai looked over as his eyes slipped closed and his breathing evened out.

“Kunikida, go with the others,” Yosano ordered as she moved Dazai’s hands over the mess of gauze and bandages, careful to not touch any skin. Kunikida gave him a small nod and he closed the door behind him. She didn’t have to ask twice. Before he left he grabbed a stack full of towels and a bin then closed the door behind him. The best cleaning products were in a separate closet and it was something good he could do in a situation where he had nothing.
`
Once he left the room Dazai helped Yosano remove the drenched gauze and bandages from around the cuts and those packed underneath the skin. Once removed she took a deep breath and the room illuminated with a soft glow. Butterflies flew up around them before they rested on his arms and began to disappear into the wounds. Yosano stepped aside and Dazai watched as his skin stitched together. After a moment she returned, a iv bag in hand. She handed him the bag as she held the needle gently and began to prod his elbow for a vein, one that had been completely severed only seconds before. Dazai hooked the bag up to the poll next to the bed and Yosano inserted the needle into his arm.

“A mild sedative so he doesn’t wake up,” Dazai was always curious how the Tiger would metabolize poisons or sedatives, a curiosity that made him sick to his stomach.

She looked up at him as he pulled up a chair that rested against the wall, opening her mouth to protest as he gestured for her to leave. “You go, I can stay with him for a little while.”

“Here,” Yosano tossed him a roll of bandages to replace his soaked ones that began to spark something in his mind that he didn’t have time for. “You know where everything else is.”

With that, she left, and for the first time since he got the call Dazai breathed.

The next five hours were a blur. Fukuzawa came in once the commotion outside the door had settled. He checked Atsushi over before he walked over to the cabinets to retrieve a washcloth and mirror that he handed to Dazai without a word. He really looked terrible, the blood on his face hadn’t dried yet but it would soon. He didn’t bother to wet it. Instead, he dragged the harsh fabric across his face. The skin pulled and burned slightly as he tried to scrub it off before a hand met his. He looked up at Fukuzawa who took the cloth from him, ran a cool stream of water from the sink nearby, and gave it back. The blood came off easier than before, but the sting was gone.

Fukuzawa pulled out towels and ran them under cool water before he got to work. Carefully he held Atsushi’s arm in one hand as he gently began to clean the blood off. The stack of cloth was soiled after each arm and Dazai handed him more. Together they began to clean. They couldn’t let the others see him when he was still like that, and they both knew the effect waking up still covered in blood has on the mind.

There wasn’t much they could do about his hair, but they tried to get most of the blood out before it matted into knots and tangles that they knew he was more used to ripping out than properly brushing through. Naiomi knocked hesitantly half way through the process and delivered a soft pair of pajamas to change him into so he wouldn’t have to change into uncomfortable scrubs. They made extra sure the blood was fully out so as to not stain them.

“Ranpo’s been out looking,” Fukuzawa finally said. “He had a lead to follow up on and left without any other word. I believe Poe joined him as well.” Dazai hummed knowingly as he tucked a new clean blanket over him. With that, Fukuzawa turned to go. He heard him say something softly outside the door and multiple pairs of feet thudded towards them quickly.

“-tread quietly!” Kunikida scolded in a whisper as the doors burst open quickly. He caught the doorknob right before it collided with the door and Kenji smiled at him sheepishly. Kouyka rushed to his side as she began to scan him over. Her hands reached out slightly to touch him but they froze before they made contact and, for a moment, she just looked lost. Tanizaki came up behind her slowly and moved her hands towards him as he pulled her in for a slightly stiff hug. She still hadn’t gotten the hang of them.

“He’s gonna be ok, right?” Kenji asked, uncharacteristically quietly as he looked over at Dazai with uncertainty in his eyes.

“He’s going to be fine,” Heads turned to the doorway that Yosano leaned against, soiled clothes replaced with fresh ones. There was a haunted look in her eyes that shone through the facade of confidence she tried to exude. There was something there, something else besides this situation, but Dazai chose the wise approach and didn’t comment on it. A topic for another late-night drinking session he supposed.

“Ok, you saw him, he’s ok. Kenji and Tanizaki can stay, the rest of you go home,” She made a motion to shoo the rest out and they slowly left, their eyes trained on Atsushi for as long as they could. Still, they knew the rules, crowding Yosano’s office only leads to her being annoyed and the injured person stressed when they awake. None of them protested although going home just meant sitting at their desks nervously.

“You said that the ability he’s under makes him see his worst fear,” Kenji said hesitantly as Dazai gave him his seat and Tanizaki sank to the floor in the corner. “Then why was his worst fear us?”

Everyone went silent.

“I don’t think his worst fear was us,” Yosano finally said, the tension in the room high as they all looked somewhere that wasn’t Atsushi. “I think this worst fear was what we might do.”

“What do we do?”

“Right now we do nothing. When he wakes up we’ll talk, if he wants to,” Yosano added at the end. Kenji nodded, although it was obvious by the way his shoulders dropped that it wasn’t the response he wanted. Dazai knew no one had an answer, not even Yosano. She could fix his body but not the fear, not the trauma Dazai only knew parts of.

Five hours, that’s how long it took to get the call. Yosano kicked Tanizaki and Kenji out two hours in. She tried to send them home but they just lingered around the office instead of around Atsushi. Dazai stayed. The chair got uncomfortable after the fourth hour, but he didn’t move.

Yosano had stepped outside to get a cup of coffee, and only a minute later Dazai heard a commotion outside the door.

“Ranpo called, they found him,” She grabbed a small pad of gauze as she undid the tape that held the iv needle in place. She pulled the needle out of his arm and pressed the pad down after to soak up the blood. “He’s going to be ok.”

“Ranpo?” Dazai quickly moved to untie the restraints around the boys wrists and ankles.

“He and Poe found Scarecrow at one of his hideouts. He revoked his ability the second the police asked.” Yosano explained as she tossed the needle out into the trash can full of bloodied bandages and rags. “I should dispose of that before he wakes up.”

“Do you know when he will?”

“Not sure,” She grabbed the bag out of the trashcan and opened a closet to a giant trash can labeled ‘Biohazardous Material’. “If it were anyone else I’d say at least an hour or so, but I don’t know how he would metabolize toxins or medications.”

Exactly sixteen minutes later, Atsushi started to stir. His head turned to the side slightly as his eyelids fluttered slightly but did not open quite yet. Dazai got up quickly and moved towards the door. It creaked open slightly and he poked his head through. Kunikida looked up and he gestured him over, aware of every pair of eyes in the office trained on him.

“Atsushi is about to wake,” He whispered quietly to Kunikida when he reached the door. Kunikida nodded and Dazai slipped back into the room. Faintly through the door, he heard him announce to the rest of the office. An explosion of noise burst out, but they were quieted quickly by him as he insisted they leave now that he was safe. It was something they did every time, and while they were never allowed to see the person right away, they still tried. He left the door cracked open and only moments later Fukuzawa entered as well. They stood around Atsushi awkwardly as he started to shift slightly.

Finally, his eyes opened. He flinched away slightly as he stared straight up into the light above him and looked around the room. The second he saw them he froze. He stared straight at Dazai with an intense fear he’d never seen before, well, that he hadn’t seen before today. His chest began to rise and fall quicker by the second as he began to hyperventilate.

“Atsushi,” His eyes snapped over to Yosano who moved next to him. He jolted away violently as she shone a flashlight into his eyes. “Do you know where you are?”A tense silence filled the room as Atsushi only stared at her in fear. Finally, he took a shaky breath and clenched his jaw before he spoke.

“I’m in your office in the Agency. And I’m on a bed,” The last bit came out almost as a question but they paid it no mind as relief flowed through them. They knew the aftermath was still to come but it would be much better than the horror before. Still, a tinge of fear remained as they processed his surprise at the bed.

“Do you remember what happened?” Atsushi began to curl in on himself once more as violent tremors resumed their torment. He opened his mouth as if to speak before he snapped it shut and nodded slowly instead, his eyes trained on his hands that curled into fists around the blanket.

“Do you remember being hit by an ability?” His head snapped up. He studied Yosano's face for a moment before he shook his head once more.

“Scarecrow, also known as Bill Kane, was working for the gang you, Tanizaki, and Kenji were sent to handle.” Fukuzawa finally spoke from his position by the door as he stepped forward to the end of the bed. Atsushi shifted slightly away from them until he was up against the back of the bed. “His ability, Fear Toxin, was used on you. He was arrested approximately half an hour ago and removed his ability from you.”

“An ability?” Atsushi’s voice trembled but there was a glimmer of light that returned to his eyes. “None of that was real?”

“No.” The glimmer turned to tears but no longer of despair. “Everything you saw was a manipulation of reality,” Dazai added. “Everyone has been trying to help you.” Yosano shot him a look as she tilted her head down at Atsushi. He looked over at Fukuzawa before he took a breath. He bent down slightly and opened his arms which Atsushi flung himself into. Dazai stepped back slightly and stood there awkwardly for a moment before he hesitantly wrapped his arms around him and rested them atop his shoulders. They stood there for a moment, Atsushi’s sobs the only thing that separated them from an uncomfortable silence.

“Tanizaki contacted us the second you collapsed. Dazai and Kunikida arrived as you woke and attempted to bring you back to the Agency safely,” Fukuzawa explained. Atsushi froze and pushed away as he looked down at his now soft, unmarred forearms.

“You gave everyone a scare when you pulled that stunt,” Yosano said and Atsushi looked away in shame.

“I'm sorry. I’m sorry I just couldn't go through that again. I couldn’t let you…”.

“Let us what?” Yosano asked as Atsushi trailed off into silence.

“I couldn’t let you cage me again.” Again, the word hung heavy in the air.

“What do you mean by again?” Fukuzaawa finally spoke up. Atsushi looked up at him for a moment before he looked down at his hands that he wrung in his lap.

“There was a basement in the Orphanage,” Atsushi began. He didn’t take his eyes off his hands. “It was just a cold cement room but half of it was, it was a cage. There was enough room to move around but sometimes if I was bad enough they'd chain my ankles to the floor.” Words came quicker and quicker to match his breath as he let out a small, hysterical laugh. “One time when I was nine I was so bad that the Headmaster took a nail and hammered it through my foot. It didn’t break the cement floor but it kept me in place. And I couldn’t go through that again, I just couldn’t.”

“So you tried to kill yourself,” Dazai said, and Atsushi nodded slightly.

“Even though I knew it wouldn’t work, I had to try. I’m sorry you saw that I shouldn’t have done that. I won’t when it happens again.”

Again.

“When what happens?” Fukuzawa asked as he moved to Dazai’s side who moved back out of his way.

“When I actually become a threat. When I actually hurt someone.”

“Nakajima Atsushi,” The boy flinched slightly at the sound of his full name. He tried to look away but with a slow, careful hand, Fukuzawa turned his chin to face him. “You are not an animal?”

A loud cry broke the tense air. Fukuzawa reached out and wrapped his arms firmly around him. Atsushi buried his face into his yukata as he leaned against him.

“You are a person, not a threat. Not something to be caged.”

Dazai met Yosano’s eyes once more as they both moved closer until they reached the sides of the bed. There was a firm, almost wild look in her eyes, and even in all the years he spent in the mafia around torture he knew it was nothing compared to what Yosano wanted to do with the people at that orphanage. Dazai would consider the Headmaster lucky for the car that turned him into a chalk mark on the asphalt or he might have done things Oda wouldn’t have approved of. Although, with the orphan in question, Dazai wasn’t sure if he would have minded all that much.

“You have a place at the Agency,” He said, and Atsushi pulled away slightly to meet his stern eyes. “Nothing about that could change.”

“You’ve been out for five hours and we were only just able to get people to leave,” Yosano added and Atsushi snapped over to look at her in confusion. “They all wanted to stay until you had woken up.

“But why?”

“Because they care, all of us do.”

“But I’m dangerous.”

“All of us are dangerous,” Dazai smiled slightly as he gestured around.

“I don’t deserve this.”

“You don’t have to be deserving of anything to have basic human rights,” Yosano crossed her arms as she raised her eyebrow slightly.

“But-”

“Nothing that you could say will change that,” Fukuzwa interrupted and Atsushi looked away.

“I don’t know if I believe that.”

“All in due time.”

“This conversation will continue tomorrow,” Yosano said as she walked over to the sink and retrieved a small glass of water. Atsushi’s jaw quivered slightly as he bit back a yawn and took the glass with shaky fingers yet still managed not to spill. “Drink.”

“I’m not tired,” Dazai simply looked at him, and crimson flushed through his pale cheeks as he sipped the water. “I’m not that tired.”

“You were on a heavy sedative for hours combined with the mental toll that ability took on you. I’d advise staying off work for at least three more days.”

“There’s no need, I can still function,” He said quickly as he stared at Yosano in shock. A shock that Dazai remembered all too well. The sudden shock of basic kindness through the permission to take off vital work time with no consequences. He had hoped that throughout everything, through sickness and injury, Atsushi would have grown used to that, but he knows better than most that it takes time.

“The Agency will always come second to your needs,” Fukuzawa said as he stepped away towards the door, Yosano close behind. “Now rest, we will continue this conversation in the morning.”

“It’s about eight now,” Dazai clarified as he glanced down at his phone. The screen lit up with the myriad of messages he had ignored since he got the call. Some from different members of the Agency, a few from Chuuya cursing him for something he was supposed to remember, and most interestingly an overwhelming amount from Akutagawa. The boy was always extremely hesitant to spam Dazai as to not be a bother, but it appeared that when it involved Atsushi those concerns were cast aside to make room for ones about him. “I’ll turn off the lights so you can sleep.” As he spoke he stepped towards the door and flipped the light switch off when he heard Atsushi’s voice, so quiet he almost didn’t hear it.

“Can you stay?”

“What was that?” He asked as he turned back to face him. Atsushi shuffled down to lay his head on the pillow and turned his head away in embarrassment.

“I mean, in case the ability has any lingering effects or something,” A bold-faced lie, they both knew it, yet Dazai did him the mercy as to not bring it up. It was new territory for both of them and that was clear, but it wasn’t about him. He couldn’t let his lack of knowledge when it came to such basic things such as judgeless comfort and kindness impede the little progress the Agency had made.

“Well of course!’ He said with a smile as he sat back in the chair, no matter how uncomfortable it might have been for the hours he already had sat in it. “What kind of a mentor would I be if I left without any certainty you would be alright!”

Atsushi’s shoulders dropped as the tension slowly eased out of him. The exhaustion of the day seemed to weigh him down and Dazai was once again reminded about just how small he really is, not his height but his frame wracked by years of malnutrition. He fell asleep only moments later.

It wouldn’t fix any, if not most, of the problems. The self-hatred had been so ingrained in him that it would take a long time to unravel each knot that bound him from seeing the truth. Bound him from seeing the people around him who wanted nothing more than to help. However, there was no doubt something had changed. A small glimmer of hope in his eyes that had been dimmed years before returned and there was not a single person at that Agency that would let it be put out again.