Work Text:
Dazai wakes up with a start, blinded by the light seeping through the crack in the blinds, as the sun drowns the room in a gold-ish tint of an early summer morning. He blinks and sits up, rubbing his eyes. His shoulder stings a bit and he feels as if he was sleeping forever, but he actually feels rested, which would be a rare occurrence in the past, but in the present it’s becoming more and more of his everyday morning realization.
He gets out of bed and grabs his cane. It’s been months now since his escape from Meursault and Yosano tried to fix his leg the best she could, but it’s not like she’s capable of miracles and Dazai didn’t want to experiment with her ability. He could cope with a slight limp and the no-feeling in his bones when it rains, it’s no biggie.
It’s wednesday, so he’s not surprised to see Chuuya isn’t home - Mafia’s schedule was surprisingly regular these days, although it might’ve just had to do with a certain redhead blatantly turning down additional missions in favor of spending evenings in his apartment on the outskirts of Yokohama, accompanied by his pain-in-the-ass partner. Even after so much time, Dazai had to appreciate the gesture which made him crack just the tiniest of smiles everyday. Maybe he really
did
change. Maybe they both did.
He walks over to the kitchen to grab his morning coffee, briefly considering to grab a toast before he starts getting ready to work, but dismisses the thought. He’s going to eat something on the way, he tells himself, although he will likely forget to do it anyway, and then Kunikida will shove a croissant or something else from the Café Uzumaki down his throat. It’s not like he doesn’t eat at all, after all. He’d been doing better, it’s just that old habits die hard. He’s trying though - the mere thought of eating something and not getting violently sick at the consideration is proof of that.
Waiting for the water to boil, he makes his way to the cabinet to grab his mug. He opens it to find a piece of paper tied to the handle with a string, and when he takes the mug out he hears something rattle inside. It’s just candy, he realizes, one of those cheap plastic-wrapped fortune cookies you can get from the store, that tourists love to spend their change on. He blinks and takes a look at the paper. ‘
Happy birthday, idiot’
is written on it in Chuuya’s fancy handwriting and Dazai stares at it for a second before.
He forgot it’s his birthday today. He was never one to celebrate his life, even though his Agency coworkers always made sure to acknowledge it with wishes. It’s been years since Chuuya did, though. That’s something , and he doesn’t even realize that he smiles as he pours his coffee.
He ends up putting the crumbled remains of fortune cookie into his pocket when he leaves for work, not even realizing he’s smiling as he does so.
...
“You’re late.” Kunikida announces towards the general direction of the entrance as soon as he hears the door open. He turns his head just in time to see Dazai march into the office, banging his cane against the doorframe as if he was determined to make as much noise as possible to announce his presence.
“Come on, is that a way to greet the birthday boy, Kunikida?” Dazai pouts at him. Kunikida blinks, a bit surprised. Dazai acknowledging his birthday isn’t something that happened before.
“Yeah, yeah, happy birthday you lazy worm.” he says nevertheless, shrugging. “Someone’s in a good mood today, eh? Maybe you can put some of that optimism towards work?” he teases, which might be jumping the boat a bit, but hey, maybe hot-headed Nakahara has a magic influence on bastard’s productivity just like he has on his mood?
He watches as Dazai whines, but still hauls his ass to his desk, only stopping to say hello to Atsushi and Rampo before sitting down and pretending to open the reports on his laptop. Only then does Kunikida return to his own paperwork, shuffling through papers on his desk and humming under his nose.
Despite Dazai’s loud entrance, it’s a peaceful day, so Doppo can take all the time he wants with picking and rearranging the binders and piles of reports. He can appreciate the stillness and slower pace, even despite all his ramblings about being productive and all, especially since his hands are not as good as they used to be.
“Kunikida?” he hears when he’s about half-way done with sorting his work. Atsushi stands before his desk with Sigma at his side, clutching to his sleeve. Doppo stares at him. Sigma looks back with an exhausted expression on his face. Kunikida can’t blame him, the case he’d been working on was dragging on for over a month now.
“What is it?”
“Can I get permission to leave on an early break and take Sigma with me?” Atsushi asks in a pleading tone. He seems to be asking it more for Sigma’s benefit than his own. Good kid. Kunikida flaps hand at them.
“Write it down on the timetable before you leave.” he says, already turning back to his work. A thought crosses his mind. “Wait, Atsushi-” he begins, causing the boy to stop and turn around mid-step. “Grab a muffin for me, will you?” he asks, already looking for change in his pocket.
“Will do.” Atsushi agrees, but his smile falters when Kunikida tries to hand him the money, “Ah, there’s no need for that-” he starts. Sigma rolls his eyes, an admirable and oh, so very relatable gesture.
“Just take the money, kid.” Doppo replies, already turning back to his work. “And don’t harass Sigma,” he adds. He hears Dazai snicker and he does so, but he is the one to blame, if Kunikida was to be honest - weretiger had taken his mentors' learnings a bit too well at times, using acquired manipulation skills to ‘harass’ people with love and force them to commit to self-care. It was ridiculous at times, really.
Even though the cafe is in the same building as the agency and the nearest corner store is only a few blocks away, Atsushi and Sigma come back after almost an hour. They hand him not one muffin, but three, and so Kunikida graciously ignores the ‘20 minute break’ Sigma scribbled in the timetable.
“Thank you. Now, Dazai-” he turns towards the man, not surprised in the slightest to see him dozing off in his chair.
After all, it really was a surprisingly slow day in the office, even despite the general peace of Yokohama as of late, and Dazai did develop a habit of getting distracted and napping at random times, even more often than he did before Mersault. Head injury goes a long way, Kunikida guessed. Doppo sighs, placing the extra muffin in front of him.
It’ll wait for him, he figures, and then realization hits him.
‘We all needed some rest’ he thinks, looking at Dazai, who’s still peacefully asleep across the desk from him. It’s a stupid thing to think about because of the muffin, but here he is, suddenly remembering all the chaos of the last year.
He looks around.
Atsushi is typing something furiously on his laptop. Sigma’s leaning over his shoulder, so it’s probably a report of the case they’ve been working on together. Door to the infirmary is ajar, and he can hear Rampo and Yosano bickering in there - something about the fish, he doesn’t even wanna know. Kyoka and Kenji have bribed the President to play Uno with them, apparently. Tanizaki is talking to his sister on the phone.
Everything seems so… mundane, it’s almost as if the airport incident never happened. Fukuzawa has a few new wrinkles, sure, and almost everyone gained a few scars, both physical and emotional ones, but it’s almost impossible to guess that from a glance. The day is slow, he thinks, it didn’t happen as often before.
‘ It’s been almost a year,’ he thinks. The sea is calm, the storm blew over, it seems. ‘Maybe such a thing as a new beginning really exists?’