Chapter Text
Dazai had really been off of his game lately. Well, Dazai was hardly the most stable pillar in their agency, but something had been seriously wrong with him lately. And it was starting to cause trouble.
As much as it pained Kunikida to admit, Dazai played a vital part in their work. Really, for all the stunts he pulled he was still as reliable as they came. Things worked out when Dazai joined a mission. That’s just the way it was. He was good at his job, the few times he bothered to do it.
So that’s why it was so odd, seeing him let a perp get away on a mission. Dazai blamed it on the explosion that had deafened the both of them only minutes earlier. But he must have seen the perp move. And he still didn’t make a move to follow him, and Kunikida couldn’t catch up to the guy after that.
Kunikida gave Dazai an earful once they returned to the office and Dazai seemed to actually listen to him. He looked somewhat sullen, but not in the way he usually did. Usually he'd look like a bratty child, annoyed by the fact he was getting scolded without listening to a single uttered word. But he knew better than to trust whatever that display had been, figuring Dazai was pretending to feel bad about blowing off work so that he’d let him off the hook.
Like hell he was gonna do that.
Then there was the damn paperwork. Now to be fair, Dazai never did his paperwork on time, but now he just didn’t do it. He’d look at the paper for a while, moving it back and forth on his desk. Then he’d sigh, rub his eyes with closed fists and whine dramatically about paperwork being too draining. His written reports were the same, a few sentences, small spelling errors here and there like he had hit the wrong key and just kept writing.
Kunikida didn’t think someone could stoop to a lower level, now he realizes how wrong he had been.
The final straw is when Dazai doesn’t bother showing up to work for four days. It’s not unusual for him to skip a day or two without warning. But on the fifth day, at Ranpo‘s order, Kunikida leaves at noon to drag his ass back to the office.
“Open the door Dazai,” Kunikida yells standing outside of Dazai’s apartment.
He wasn’t expecting the bandage squandering maniac to open the door, but it still pisses him off when he doesn’t even get an answer. “I’m not kidding, I’ll break it down,” he wouldn’t actually break anything. It wasn’t like Dazai owned the place anyway.
Kunikida tries the door handle and to his horror finds that the door is unlocked. That didn’t make any sense, he had never known Dazai to leave his door unlocked.
Kunikida is positive Dazai was using a fake name, no way in hell a guy like that keeps his door unlocked. And lazy as he was he was never very forgetful.
Nothing had happened to Dazai, right?
Dazai had his fair share of enemies, he could have been killed or kidnapped. And Kunikida didn’t even notice until he had missed four days of work? How could he possibly judge Dazai when his own morals were so obviously flawed? Of course, it could have just been another stunt, but Kunikida shouldn’t just blindly assume that it was.
Why did it take him five days to look for his partner? Granted they had been busy and Dazai had always been flighty, but he should have come by a lot sooner.
He did send Atsushi on the third day, but Atsushi didn’t have the balls to try and break in. He would walk away with his tail between his legs after a few knocks and calls. Kunikida might not even have come today, if it wasn't for Ranpo telling him to.
Dazai could have bled out in some alleyway five days ago without anyone even looking for him. They were detectives for crying out loud, surely they couldn’t have missed something like that.
He steps into the apartment and turns on the lights to look for clues. It’s messy, per usual, and Kunikida nearly steps on some broken glass near the doorway. A broken key bowl, he deduces, after fishing up Dazai’s keys. The side table by the door was a bit out of place. But nothing else stood out of place. He pushes the glass shards beneath the table with his shoe before taking off his shoes.
The bathroom and bedroom are messy. But it doesn’t look like a robbery, more like how Dazai’s place looks when he’s going through a depressive episode. Things are out of place, scattered over surfaces and floors but nothing is missing. But if no one came in, does that mean Dazai just left?
Kunikida heads to the kitchen last thinking he can find more clues but instead finds something that completely disheveled the worrisome scenarios he had thought of.
Nothing had happened. He finds Dazai sitting at the kitchen table, leaned back in the chair and his hands folded in his lap. The kitchen floor was covered with the glass from a broken whiskey bottle and empty cans of crab littered the table and countertops. Well, the cans were actually pretty typical of Dazai. And the two empty bottles of whiskey on the table weren’t that surprising.
Dazai didn’t react at all when Kunikida walked in. Didn’t try to defend himself or even bother greeting him. He just stared straight ahead at the empty wall in front of him.
“Seriously?” Kunikida asks in a deadly tone. Dazai pulled enough crap to put a plumber to shame. But seriously? This is what Dazai had been busy doing? Sitting around?
Dazai doesn't look up at him even after Kunikida walks over and slams his hands on the table. The only reason Kunikida knows he is alive is the way he startles at the sudden noise.
“This is unacceptable behavior,” Kunikida reprimands but Dazai pays him no mind. Well, that’s also to be expected. “Care to explain where you’ve been the past few days?”
There are very few things Dazai could say that would make Kunikida forget about this, he still waits patiently for Dazai to reply. Because as annoying, lazy and reckless as he was, Kunikida couldn’t actually bring himself to dislike him. He couldn’t help but feel just a tiny bit worried when Dazai didn’t show up. Nor could he help feeling sad when he saw the mess he lived in, mirroring his mental state.
“Oh you know me, just ran into some trouble,” Dazai says, leaning his head back to stare at the ceiling.
Dazai doesn’t just seem unbothered, he’s so very mellow Kunikida wasn’t even sure he was breathing. Had he not been moving and talking, Kunikida would have thought he was dead. But that’s not typical of Dazai at all.
“What’s wrong with you?” Kunikida demands, taking a step back to reassess the situation.
Was something actually wrong? He might not have been kidnapped or killed, but something was still going on.
It wasn’t unlike Dazai to hide things from him. “Are you injured?” He asks after calming down a bit but still quite snippy. He couldn’t recall Dazai getting hurt in any past mission though. Well, he did have a knack of running into trouble wherever he was. And getting hurt while trying out various inane suicide methods.
He didn’t have any visible injuries though. Dazai was of course wearing bandages, but they weren’t as neat as they usually were. He had probably been wearing them for a few days, which he wouldn’t have done if he had any wounds. Suicidal maniac as he was, he wouldn’t want the pain that sepsis would bring.
“Sick?” Kunikida tries, but that doesn’t seem right either. When Dazai was sick he would whine endlessly.
Could be a depressive episode of course, Dazai did seem to get a lot of those and he didn’t always tell anyone. Two years ago no one would have any idea when he disappeared for a few days. He had gotten better at it though. Especially after that one time Ranpo got worried and made him nap on the couch for a few hours. Now he would tell them, but also distance himself from them. Kunikida is not sure it's an improvement.
Under the weak light from the living room Kunikida can make out the dark bags beneath Dazai’s eyes. A depressive episode seemed like the best explanation. But Dazai usually disappeared entirely for those, hiding out God knows where, and strolling back into the office a few days later with a smile that could challenge the sun.
“No,” Dazai says in a bored tone. But Kunikida knows better than to believe him, he’s definitely keeping something hidden. He surely seems depressed enough. But Dazai was pretty good at hiding things, was he masking something even worse then?
“How many fingers am I holding up?” Kunikida asks, holding up two fingers. A concussion could explain why he was acting so odd. Well, quiet and calm, which is quite abnormal for Dazai.
“Two,” Dazai says without hesitation. He doesn’t squint, he barely even looks up at Kunikida’s hand.
“...Fine,” so a mild concussion in that case. “You’re such a mother hen,” Dazai’s smile is as wide as ever and his voice just as grating but Kunikida still calls bullshit.
Dazai leans forward and rests his chin on his hand. Kunikida still can’t shake the feeling that he’s missing something.
“Why didn’t you answer your phone?” Kunikida pushes. Even if something was wrong he could have just texted them that he wasn’t coming to work. That’s what he normally did, however vague or outrageous the texts were, at least they’d know not to expect him.
“Hmmm, battery died,” Dazai dismisses with a wave of his hand. “And you didn’t charge it?” Kunikida is truly baffled by the poor excuse.
“Slipped my mind,” Dazai sounds so very bored by the conversation Kunikida feels the need to strangle him.
And Dazai’s still not looking at him. Something was obviously going on with him. But is there any chance Dazai would just admit it? Dazai kept people at arm's length when he was doing well, if something was wrong he’d never tell Kunikida. He’d never tell any of them, Ranpo might get him to talk by bringing up the issue but Dazai wouldn’t come to them with a problem.
Maybe Kunikida should be less direct. Dazai obviously still doesn’t feel comfortable sharing his concerns with him, even after being partners for two years.
“When are you coming back to the office?” Kunikida diverts. It won’t get to the root of the problem, but Kunikida will never get there at this rate.
“How about I go with you now?” Dazai mutters after a few seconds of consideration and pushes his chair from the table. He seems sad for a split second before grinning slyly.
That didn’t make any sense. Not for Dazai. To be willing to come back to work just like that. Not for anyone skipping work. “What are you playing at?” Kunikida asks.
Dazai’s grin widens until he’s showing teeth. “I made a bet you’d drag me back to office today,” he says in a delighted tone. “Should I make it look like more of a struggle?”
Kunikida reaches over to strangle him, but Dazai leans back in his chair, out of reach.
Before they leave, Kunikida makes a point to get a broom out and clean up the broken glass. God knows Dazai will manage to step in that glass if he doesn’t do anything about it. After he has deemed the kitchen glass free he heads back to the door to clean up the glass shards there.
“Why did you leave your door unlocked?” Kunikida asks, remembering his concern from earlier. Dazai stays in the doorway to the kitchen, leaning against the doorframe with his hands crossed over his chest.
“Well, I didn’t want you to break it down,” Dazai counters. Well, that might make some sense at least. Dazai could of course always have opened the door for him when Kunikida came by. But there’s no point in telling Dazai that. Besides, Kunikida was much more concerned about the glass shards.
“You really need to clean up broken glass, it’s far too dangerous. You could have stepped on it,” Kunikida scolds after having already cleaned up all of it.
“Didn’t you know,” Dazai starts sounding surprised. “Glass shards can be used in substitute of an acupressure mat, there are numerous health benefits to it.”
“Really?” Kunikida asks. Of course, they would probably feel similar. But wasn’t the glass too sharp. Of course you could use some sort of protection to make sure you didn’t get cut. He takes out his diary and starts noting down the great health benefits Dazai is listing.
“Relieves muscle tension, promotes relaxation and helps prevent stress,” it actually sounds like a good idea when he puts it that way. But really, why not just get the acupuncture mat at that point.
“I’m messing with you,” Kunikida’s pen breaks in his hand.
Of course. Kunikida throws Dazai’s house key at him. He feels just a tiny bit happy when it hits Dazai in the face.
Dazai trails after him so annoyingly slowly, Kunikida has half the mind to leave him behind. But that would defeat the point in coming here at all. Besides, Dazai is actually following him down to the car. He should just take the win.
“Kunikida~” Dazai whines from the staircase when Kunikida has reached the ground floor.
“What?” Kunikida calls back, stopping in his step. If the bastard turns back, Kunikida will turn back and just fucking grab him. They are going back to the office.
“Did you bring your car?” Dazai calls after him.
“Yeah?” Kunikida responds.
“Ah,” Dazai has reached the bottom of the staircase now.
Kunikida has no idea what the point of that exchange was. Dazai lived far enough away that it made more sense to drive there, besides Dazai would have seen the car once he got outside. It wasn’t particularly annoying, which is usually the point of the exchange when Dazai doesn’t make sense.
Did that mean Dazai wasn’t well enough to walk to work? Then why wouldn’t he have asked about the car when they were in his apartment?
Of course! Dazai knew that Kunikida would end up wondering about this crap. He was just trying to waste Kunikida’s time and energy.
Kunikida sighs, readjusting his glasses and walks out. By the time he has freed himself from the mental trap that was Dazai’s doing his partner has caught up to him.
Dazai just kind of trails behind him on the way to the car. Seemingly in deep concentration. He’s not trying to annoy Kunikida, at least not in a way Kunikida recognizes. Maybe that’s the point though. Trying to find new ways to annoy Kunikida.
Kunikida circles the car and gets into the driver's seat, at the same time Dazai practically walks into the side of the car, letting a quiet ‘thump’ be heard. It also takes him a few seconds to grab the door handle.
Now what the hell was that about? A concussion after all?
“Are you sure you’re alright?” Kunikida asks, for the first time today, perfectly calm. Dazai would divert everything but even he could falter when he was met with something unexpected. Such as genuine worry about Dazai’s wellbeing.
“Hmm, just didn’t watch my step is all,” and Kunikida knows not to trust it. But he’s also given up trying to figure out what was going on.
Dazai doesn’t do anything odd in the car. No messing with the radio or air conditioning at random, like an infant having just realized he has hands. Which is the reason Kunikida didn’t like driving him places. But now, he’s just looking straight ahead with a neutral expression.
Kunikida finds himself getting more and more uneasy by the second.
Was Dazai on drugs? Is that why he’s so mellowed out?
His movements didn’t seem sluggish though. He had obviously been drinking, but Kunikida couldn’t smell any alcohol on his breath and he wasn’t stumbling either.
Just what the hell was he missing?
Kunikida can’t figure it out for the entire ride back to the office. He lists every possible ailment and injury he can think of that would affect Dazai this way. Only to cross all of them out one by one.
Well, he wasn’t the only detective at the agency.
Ranpo had been the one who told Kunikida to go get Dazai today. Kunikida had of course tried to find out why he needed to get Dazai now, but Ranpo had just shot him down. He relented almost immediately and headed over. For the time being, he’ll just have to assume that Ranpo was correct in his deduction.
Dazai sits quietly in the parked car until Kunikida gets out, but joins him very quickly. He stumbles slightly over the curb but regains his footing before Kunikida can help him. Dazai is even stranger on the walk up to the office. Walking a good two feet behind Kunikida and not talking at all.
Warning signals are blaring in Kunikida’s brain but he doesn’t want to waste anymore time trying to figure out the enigma that is Dazai.He got him to come back to the office, which is more than he bargained for.
He has four and a half days of missed work, along with the reports for the past eight weeks that he has barely started. Kunikida should probably tie Dazai to his desk, or maybe even shove him in Ranpo’s direction for an assessment.
Kunikida’s Dazai sense blares wildly when he steps into the bullpen. Dazai is lingering in the entrance, making no move to get back to work.
“Get back to your desk, you waste of bandages” Kunikida is ready to drag him back to work.
“Hmm, in a moment,” Dazai deflects with a small smile. Kunikida feels the vein in his forehead becoming ready to burst.
“I need to talk to Yosano,” Dazai admits feebly.
That’s unprecedented. “Okay?” He had never seen Dazai voluntarily enter her office. Then he must have been right, thinking that something was wrong with Dazai. “Thought you said you weren’t sick?”
“I’m not,” Dazai denies.
“Nor hurt.”
“Not hurt either,” Dazai refutes, sneaking towards Yosano’s office door with small unassuming steps. But Kunikida isn’t just gonna let him slip away.
“Then you can get back to your desk and make up for the time you’ve missed.” Kunikida strides over to drag Dazai along inside.
“No can do~” Dazai dodges Kunikida’s arms without even looking in the blondes direction. Kunikida loses his footing trying to grab him.
Dazai has snuck through the half open door by the time Kunikida has regained his balance.
Well, if something actually was wrong with Dazai he should see Yosano. And he was years behind on his annual check ups by now. Just this once, maybe paperwork could wait. It’s not like Dazai would have gotten any of it done anyway.
Atsushi looks mildly concerned when Kunikida returns to his desk. It’s a stark improvement to the grave concern he had displayed when Ranpo told Kunikida to go find Dazai.
“Is Dazai okay?” He asks carefully, surely having heard Dazai head into Yosano’s office.
“He won’t be if he doesn’t get back to work soon,” Kunikida threatens before getting back to work.