Chapter 1: Dazai and Yosano work things out
Chapter by RayvnAshes (IronScript)
Chapter Text
Yosano stepped onto the roof of the Agency building, having seen Dazai step out for a few minutes earlier to have a smoke, which she would lecture him about if she didn’t know that it wasn’t something he made a habit of.
Perhaps predictably, the brunette was sitting with his legs dangling off the edge of the building, but unlike what she would have assumed even just a few short weeks ago, she didn’t get the impression that he was intending to jump.
Being careful not to muffle her steps, knowing that Dazai was aware that he had company but not wanting him to think she was trying to hide her presence, she slowly walked towards him.
“Hey.” She greeted, approaching him from the left. As a doctor, she had noticed that the vision in his right eye was off somehow, though not to what extent, and she didn’t want to cause discomfort by coming at him from that side.
“Yosano-sensei.” He greeted, tone even as he flicked some ash from the end of his cigarette.
“Do you mind if I sit with you?” she asked, doing her best to project the fact that she wouldn’t be offended if he said no, and the thing was that she really wouldn’t be.
Logically, she knew aware that her having needed for Dazai to take off his bandages the other week had been a medical necessity, not something she would ever have asked him to show her under any other circumstances. Dazai knew that too, she was sure.
But that didn’t stop the emotional turmoil that resulted from the reveal, nor did it invalidate the feelings he was experiencing in the aftermath.
“Go ahead.” Dazai said with a seemingly unaffected shrug, though his shoulders tensed the tiniest bit as she sat down and smoothed down her skirt.
“Thank you.” She said with a grateful sigh as she looked up at the sky, looking up to try and catch a glimpse of the stars despite the light pollution blocking most of them from view. “It was getting a bit stuffy in there, but I didn’t want to go all the way downstairs with the elevator out of order.”
“I imagine that wouldn’t be easy in heels.” He acknowledged, remembering Kyouka’s first attempts at wearing the death traps a couple of days ago when Chuuya was trying to show her. She had quickly gotten the hang of them, considering the gracefulness the Port Mafia had trained into her, but it hadn’t gone well at first.
“Yeah, I used to prefer flats until I realized it would hurt my enemies more when I stepped on them if I wore shoes like these.” Yosano grinned down proudly at her stilettos.
“You know, I’ve never quite been able to determine which of the two of us is more sadistic, and you saying things like that doesn’t help.” Dazai snorted.
“Who knows?” she shrugged. “Honestly, I think I might win that one. You don’t intentionally cause pain to the people you care about, but I make a living from it.”
He blinked in surprise, glancing towards her for the first time that night.
“That’s not quite true.” He muttered, crushing the butt of his cigarette against the concrete and thinking of Chuuya, who he had hurt and treated like trash for so long in a desperate attempt not to feel anything for the other man.
“Hm, maybe.” She allowed. “Still, there’s a reason the others are terrified of being treated by me. And I might not like that they’re in a situation where my Ability is needed, but I would be lying if I said I mind injuring them further.”
“Does it really matter, when doing so is for their own benefit, in the end?” Dazai pursed his lips slightly.
“It certainly feels like it does.” Yosano stared off into the distances. “Healing someone’s physical wounds doesn’t do anything for any other trauma they might be carrying.”
The younger man looked at her sharply at the implications of that, but Yosano didn’t allow him the opportunity to get defensive.
“Did I ever tell you what I did before I joined the Agency?” she asked, though of course she knew that the answer was a very firm ‘no.’
“I don’t believe you have.” Dazai answered slowly, equally as aware that she hadn’t.
“My Ability manifested early, and I was volunteered to help in the Great War. Thou Shalt Not Die enabled soldiers to be sent straight back into battle after I healed them, so people were quick to take advantage, despite my age.”
With a shaky sigh, hands trembling against her will despite steady hands being a must for her profession as a doctor, she continued. “Those soldiers eventually committed suicide. All of them. Being so close to death, only to be healed and sent right back to that hell, over and over…it was too much.”
“Before then, I had always thought so highly of my Ability.” She laughed, a harsh, gravely sound full of the pain she’d carried for over a decade now. “I thought if I healed their bodies, they could go back out there with no consequences, because if they got hurt again I could just heal them again, right? And if they were scared to go back out, then maybe they shouldn’t be soldiers in the first place, and should either tough it out or leave. I didn’t understand yet that trauma wasn’t always physical, and that Thou Shalt Not Kill can’t fix emotional or mental wounds.”
“I imagine you can probably empathize with those soldiers, huh?” she choked out, before waving a hand at him as he started to react to her statement. “No, that was meant to be rhetorical. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it.”
“Yosano—” Dazai faltered, having no idea how to say what he wanted. His skills laid in manipulating people, not comforting them. “Please don’t—don’t feel obligated to tell me all of this. I know why you’re doing it, and it’s fine, your plan worked, so there’s no need to—"
Ah. So he had realized that her decision to share was because she was hoping that doing so would him become comfortable around her again, or at least as comfortable as he could be around someone who wasn’t Chuuya.
“That’s not the only reason I’m telling you this, Dazai.” She cut off his uncharacteristic rambling, though she threw a small smile in his direction for trying. “It…actually feels nice, to be able to talk to someone who has an idea what it’s like. So just…let me continue. Please?”
After a long moment where he looked her carefully in the eye for any traces of doubt, he pursed his lips and nodded for her to go on when she was ready.
“Mori was acting as my commanding officer, so to speak.” She said after a few minutes, appreciating the fact that Dazai made no indication whatsoever that he wanted her to hurry up, instead letting her do this at her own pace. “I had a total meltdown, but for him, nothing at all had changed. He just had me use my Ability, over and over again, and we lost more and more soldiers. And while he was forcing me to effectively torture those men, he was simultaneously showering me with praises and acting like a possessive creep, treating me like a…a…”
“A doll.” Dazai said, eyes alight with understanding, and it struck her, not for the first time, that Mori had likely done something very similar to him. “A puppet for him to manipulate as he pleased.”
It was apparent that they were no longer just talking about Yosano, but she wasn’t going to bring attention to it if he wasn’t.
Honestly, she was just glad he seemed to be willing to talk to her again.
“Exactly.” She said instead. “Eventually, I just completely shut down. I was still going through the motions, but…but everything that made me, me, was lost. It wasn’t until Fukuzawa-san and Ranpo found me that I started coming back to myself. I…I owe them everything.”
How had Dazai gone so long without realizing just how similar the two of them were?
When Yosano looked back at him, she froze at the sight of tears gathering at the corner of Dazai’s eye, apparently unnoticed by the man himself.
She had never seen him cry, and she was almost scared what it might mean that he was doing so now (she hadn’t broken him, had she?).
After a few moments the tear fell, and he blinked in surprise as he felt it run down his face, raising a hand to wipe it away and staring at the droplet in bemusement.
“Huh.” He muttered, before glancing at her and giving a wry smile. “I guess you were right. Having someone understand does help.”
It was the first time he had ever shed a tear in front of someone other that Chuuya, but with the rush of emotions he was feeling right now, what else could he do?
Because before now, he had thought that only Chuuya would ever be able to understand him so well. Chuuya understood what it was like to spend years drenched in red and black until it was all you could see, how it felt to be treated as less than human, because Chuuya had experience with that due to Corruption.
At an intellectual level, at least, Chuuya understood how Odasaku’s death had practically destroyed the tenuous hold Dazai had had on his sanity as he tried to balance his wish to die with his desire to honor his best friend’s final request.
But while Chuuya had been broken before, it wasn’t quite the same. Even with everything Chuuya had put himself through after Dazai had left the Port Mafia, the redhead had still somehow managed to be strong enough to pull himself out of the abyss.
Dazai, and apparently Yosano, hadn’t been so lucky. They hadn’t been able to get themselves out of that hell, had had to rely on others to pull them out.
Chuuya’s very sanity had never been so reliant on anyone else, like with the two of them.
He admired her composure, now realizing that she had probably been just as affected by Fukuzawa-san being attacked by Fyodor’s Cannibalism Ability user attacking him as Ranpo had been. He had already been glad that they hadn’t lost the man who was a far kinder and more honest boss in every way than Mori was capable of, but he felt even more grateful for it now.
Which explained why she had warmed up to Chuuya immediately after he had saved Ranpo’s life during his graduation exam, why she had overcome her own trauma, at least for a moment, and spoken up on his behalf when Mori was trying to threaten Chuuya after the redhead joined the Agency.
Because the two men filled a similar role in her life as Odasaku had in his, and he knew better than anyone what such a loss could do to a person.
“And you know, the worst part was, I came across him at one point after the war, but before he’d joined up with the Port Mafia.” She continued. “And I saw Elise again, but a very different version of her than I was familiar with.”
“I’m sure you’re aware that she’s a projection of his Ability.” Yosano took a deep breath when she realized her companion wasn’t going to leave, bringing Dazai’s attention back to her.
“Yes…” Dazai said, slow and wary. “Elise has been around for as long as I’ve known him.”
“Right.” She said. “The thing is, Mori is able to…personalize her, so to speak, able to pick and choose everything about her. Elise might act like a real girl, but she’s not actually a separate, sentient being. She’s not capable of having her own thoughts or opinions, has no free will. She’s nothing but an extension of the man who created her.”
Dazai kept silent, a heavy weight settling in his gut as he realized where this was going.
“What you probably wouldn’t have any way of knowing is that she didn’t always act the way she does now. Her current form, her attitude and mannerisms…he changed them to reflect those of a real girl he knew.” She pulled her knees to her chest, ignoring the way the man beside her stiffened as he realized where this was going. “As she is now, Elise is based on me.”
Dazai exhaled slowly as he processed all this new information, fists clenching tightly as he tried to fathom just how horrible it must have felt for Yosano to see Elise like that, wondering how he would react if Mori had done that with him.
“Defending Chuuya against Mori must have been rather…cathartic.” He said after a long moment, not wanting to linger on the more painful aspects of what she had spoken of, though he had no intention of dismissing her pain. He just knew that, if he were in her position, he wouldn’t want anyone prying further.
“It was.” She admitted. “But that doesn’t mean that I was lying, either. Chuuya never stood a chance, if Mori got a hold of him so early in life.”
“No, I suppose not.” Dazai sighed, wistful for what could have been, in another life.
Yosano eyed him. “None of us stood a chance. Indoctrination is a pretty powerful thing.”
Dazai hummed in acknowledgement, causing her to frown.
“You do realize the same holds true for you too, right?” she said more directly, realizing that he was only thinking in terms of others when he agreed with her.
The brunette blinked at her, tilting his head like a lost puppy.
“If you say so.” He said doubtfully, not wanting to argue with her after such a conversation.
‘Maybe someday I’ll even believe it.’ He thought to himself silently.
Yosano held back a sigh, realizing that this was one topic he wasn’t going to budge on. He might believe that her and Chuuya weren’t at fault for the bad circumstances they had grown up in, but for some reason he wouldn’t give himself the same courtesy.
When Yosano had first met Dazai, she would never have imagined that he had self-worth issues, but as time passed they became more and more apparent to her.
The benefits of Chuuya joining the Agency seemed to never end, as Dazai was slowly allowing himself to become more open with the rest of their coworkers. Ideally, he would someday be comfortable enough to acknowledge these issues and accept their help in working on them, but realistically he would probably only be able to bring himself to rely on Chuuya for such things.
But even if Dazai never reached out to the rest of them, that didn’t mean that they wouldn’t be there for whenever he needed them.
When Chuuya arrived back at the office after enjoying lunch with Kyouka and Atsushi (predictably the younger girl had managed to convince them to get crepes) a few days later, it was to see Ranpo grinning at his desk.
“What’s got you so pleased?” the redhead asked the detective with a raised eyebrow, glancing around to see if there were any sweets causing the reaction but not finding any.
“You’ll see.” The older man said with a smirk, nodding towards the infirmary, where Dazai was getting another checkup to make sure his heart was fully recovered from the recent stress it had been under during the Rappaccini case.
Chuuya hovered uncertainly, not wanting to interrupt but also knowing that Dazai was unlikely to mind his presence for this kind of thing, now that they’d gotten to the point in their relationship when showing vulnerability was no longer such a terrifying concept.
“Just go.” Ranpo rolled his eyes at him, causing Chuuya to slowly approach the door and knock.
“Come in!” Yosano called after a brief pause, where she presumably checked with Dazai if he minded.
Chuuya opened the door to see Dazai sitting on the edge of the bed, Yosano holding a stethoscope above his heart.
“Chuuya~!” Dazai grinned widely as he entered the room.
“Wow.” Yosano snorted, glancing between the two of them as she listened to Dazai’s heartbeat. “If your heart races like this every time you even see Chuuya, you must have had a hell of a time trying to keep your heart calm.”
“It was horrible.” Dazai nodded earnestly. “The first few days we could barely even kiss without it hurting.”
“You two are so adorable, it’s almost sickening.” Yosano smiled wryly.
Chuuya blinked at the easy conversation flowing between the pair, having been more aware than anyone (aside from maybe Ranpo) how tense their relationship had been recently, though more on Dazai’s side than Yosano’s.
It had worried him, because Yosano was quickly becoming his best friend in the Agency, but Dazai was the love of his life, and even though he knew Dazai would never try and dictate Chuuya’s relationships, that didn’t stop him from feeling a bit guilty about it.
Luckily it looked like they had managed to work through it, he realized with a smile as he walked up to his husband in all but name, taking his husband’s hand and letting his thumb stroke the white gold wedding band on Dazai’s ring finger, a perfect match to the one on Chuuya’s.
They might not be able to get married in Japan, but since when had the legality of anything ever stopped them?
Yosano turned away to hide her smile as she saw Dazai press a soft kiss onto the back of Chuuya’s hand, gazing at the other man with more love than those not in the Agency probably thought him capable of, the emotion mirrored perfectly by the redhead.
Yeah, they would be just fine.
Chapter Text
When Dazai had eventually given into his heart's desire to bare his scars to Chuuya (despite all the effort his mind went through to convince him that it was a Bad Idea™ to make himself so vulnerable no matter how much he loved the redhead), he hadn’t been met with disgust, horror, pity—nothing to suggest that Chuuya had finally realized that Dazai’s claims of not being human were true—instead, he had reacted with sorrow that Dazai had been forced to go through the undoubtedly agonizing situations that caused such extensive scarring in the first place.
Chuuya had never looked at him differently afterwards. He never thought any less of him for it, still able to look him straight in the eye with all the honesty and love in the world and call Dazai beautiful
And when Dazai’s heart had recovered enough after the Rappaccini case for them to be able to do more than kiss without his rapidly beating heart aching painfully (and even then sometimes just kissing was too much for him), Chuuya had instead taken the opportunity to show Dazai just how relieved he was that Dazai had survived.
He had looked at Dazai, blue eyes bright with love and happiness, hands steady as they swept over the veritable horror show that was Dazai’s completely bare body, lips trailing over his many scars, sometimes lingering on the particularly painful-looking ones as if to show his gratitude that Dazai had survived them.
It had been one of the most intimate things Dazai had ever experienced, the most vulnerable he had ever let himself be in front of another person, and in the past such openness had always backfired on him tremendously.
Yet Chuuya hadn’t flinched away from the silent tears that had fallen despite Dazai’s best efforts, still so unused to physical contact that wasn’t meant to hurt, like so many had before.
He had gently kissed the tears away, wrapping Dazai in his arms and hugging him close before his lips arrived at their intended destination right above Dazai’s heart.
A heart that was somehow still beating despite everything, from Dazai’s own suicide attempts over the years to the people who persisted in trying to destroy everything they had managed to build together.
Chuuya had closed his eyes, mouthing a prayer of thanks to whichever deity was responsible for Dazai still being by his side, as what else could possibly explain how lucky they’d been to have both survived to get where they were?
He had always known that he was able to trust Chuuya with his life, but Chuuya’s initial reaction to seeing what Dazai kept hidden under his bandages had driven home the fact that he could trust Chuuya with his heart, too.
He knew full well that he didn’t deserve Chuuya’s kindness and love, not after everything he’d put the redhead through over the years, but he’d come to realize that that wasn’t his choice to make. If Chuuya somehow felt him worthy despite all of that, Dazai wasn’t about to try and convince him otherwise.
Notes:
This one was definitely half-baked (something I'd written at some point and then thought I'd lost during a factory reset for my computer), but I have since forgotten where I was going with this chapter, so here it is anyway. :P
Hope you liked it despite that!