Work Text:
one: what's in a name?
Today is what would be unanimously dubbed a busy day - people are rushing in and out of the Agency office, everyone knee-deep in a kidnapping case. Yosano is tending to one of the victims while they await the boy’s parents, Kunikida and Tanizaki are shadowing the supposed next target, and Dazai is interviewing a suspect. Atsushi is helping Ranpo in one of the meeting rooms (or the war-council room, as Dazai dubbed it), trying to pinpoint the perpetrator via the few clues they have gathered. Or, well… Ranpo is, at least. Atsushi mostly watches as the man makes hurried notes in unintelligible writing and pins stuff to a cork board. He also periodically acts as something Ranpo can bounce ideas off of (almost all of which get immediately discarded by the detective).
It’s fascinating to watch Ranpo’s mind at work, he has to admit. The speed at which he thinks seems to be a million thoughts a minute, seemingly having an explanation for each theory and why it’s probable or impossible as soon as he voices it. And, yeah, Dazai had told him before that Ranpo is the backbone of them being a detective agency, so he's known Ranpo is good at what he does - getting to actually watch him in action is something else entirely, though. Listening to Ranpo, Atsushi feels both in awe and like he's an idiot.
“- but then again, this doesn’t make sense,” Ranpo is deep in another tangent, Atsushi barely following at this point. Sometimes, Ranpo will just stop talking out of nowhere, or start off with another thought that's completely unrelated to what he was talking about before, and Atsushi loses him completely. “She’d need a stronger motive. Pass me the laptop and the security footage.”
Atsushi - having been appointed by Dazai as Ranpo’s assistant for this case, seeing as he's 'too naive' (Dazai's words) to interview suspects - does as he’s told. In no time Ranpo is sat on the floor (he could’ve sat by the desk, but Atsushi has long stopped trying to give logic to anything Ranpo does), laptop in front of him, scrolling through the footage of the building their last victim had been dragged out of.
For a few minutes, not much happens - Atsushi tidies a few things around the room, letting Ranpo focus; he’d found the best way to help Ranpo is to be quiet when the detective works. He refills Ranpo’s coffee (though it’s not really coffee, per se - more like milk with an obscene amount of sugar and a splash of coffee as an afterthought), and goes to tidy files when Ranpo abruptly shuts the laptop and springs up, marching towards the desk. He starts shuffling through the papers, pulling out a stack of what Atsushi thinks are employment records.
“Go fetch Osamu for me.”
Atsushi blinks, and it takes him a minute to realize it’s Ranpo’s actually talking to him, not at him. Good, great even, except-
“Uhm, Ranpo-san-”
Ranpo doesn't even look up at, still briskly flicking through some papers, but irritation is already visible on his face. Uh oh.
“What? He can get out of there for just a bit. If she runs off, we know she’s guilty, case closed, but she won’t, it'd be absurdly stupid if she did. He talked to the victim before, I need to fact check something about that, go get him.”
Atsushi looks around helplessly, shrinking at Ranpo’s piercing glare. This is the most awkward he’s ever felt, probably; Ranpo is so much older and he’s the most important person in this entire institution and Dazai seems to really respect him and here is Atsushi being an idiot, right in front of him.
“What’s up with you?” he asks after a few seconds of nothing, now definitely agitated, and this is how Atsushi dies, out of mortification, only three weeks into his job. “You don’t know the way or what?!”
“I don’t know who you mean,” Atsushi squeaks out, praying and hoping the floor could just swallow him whole.
“I said that it’s Osamu. What’s so unclear about that?!”
“I don’t know who that is!”
Ranpo blinks at that, all frustration slowly disappearing from his features, replaced with surprise as he stares at Atsushi as if he misheard him.
“You- you don’t know? ”
“Sorry,” Atsushi squeaks out. Is Ranpo qualified to fire him? He probably is, oh God. Dazai will be so disappointed in him if he got himself fired the one time Dazai assigned him to help someone that wasn't him. “It’s- I’m not good with names! And there’s been so many people coming and going, is- is it one of the parents, or- or the husband? They’re all downstairs, right, I can-”
He’s interrupted by Ranpo hanging his head down; his shoulders are shaking and for a second, Atsushi is worried Ranpo will actually hit him (he knows he wouldn’t, but- trauma, ok?), before he realizes Ranpo is laughing, full out as if Atsushi just told the funniest joke he’d ever heard. Atsushi feels his face heating up, watching Ranpo try and fail to calmly breathe in, instead dissolving into giggles each time it seems he’s almost over it. It takes him like five minutes to be able to speak at all.
“Oh my God, kid,” he squeaks out, collapsing into his chair, one hand running through his hair. “You’re something else, I swear. No wonder he likes you so much.”
“Sorry,” Atsushi repeats himself quietly. “Who, uh, who exactly do I need to bring?”
That alone almost makes Ranpo lose it again. After he successfully manages not to laugh at Atsushi once again, he glances at him with delight, grin bright and eyes brighter as he’s clearly trying to contain his giggling.
“Dazai, " Ranpo coughs out, apparently not over his fit just yet. “That- that’s who. Osamu is his first name, just so we're completely clear.”
Oh.
Atsushi, somehow, simultaneously feels his face drain of all color and blush the angriest red it has in all his life. He wouldn’t mind taking a page out of Dazai’s book and throwing himself out the window right about now. If he’s lucky it would kill him and he’d never have to face Ranpo again.
After retreating from the office, followed by the sound of Ranpo’s continuing snickering, he goes down and fetches Dazai quietly, ignoring the questioning glance from his mentor as Atsushi says nothing on their way back upstairs. He nearly does throw himself out of the window when, right upon seeing Dazai next to Atsushi, Ranpo breaks out into hysterics again.
It is then that Atsushi decides to tactically run away. He wasn’t helping much anyway.
Lying awake that night, unable to fall asleep and repeating the situation in his mind over and over (God, it is going to haunt him for years), Atsushi rationalizes to himself that there’s nothing wrong with not having known Dazai’s full name. Absolutely nothing at all.
Okay, Dazai did probably introduce himself fully back when they first met, but Atsushi was starving and stressed and only half-lucid - he barely remembers anything out of their initial interaction. How was he supposed to remember Dazai's name when Dazai doesn’t go by it, and no one uses it! Well, no one but Ranpo, apparently.
He pays attention to it a bit more after the whole ordeal (just to prove to himself that it wasn’t that big of a deal to forget something like that); and what he’d initially noticed is correct - nobody uses Dazai’s given name, even Dazai himself. Any introductions that Atsushi hears Dazai make, he only ever offers his family name. Atsushi doesn’t know why, doesn’t think to ask as it seems it might be too personal. Or it could be as simple as Dazai disliking the sound of his first name. But it could be personal, so Atsushi chooses the safe route of not asking.
Ranpo, though, almost never calls him anything but Osamu - be it to his face or when speaking about him to others at the Agency. No honorific either, which is odd; Dazai addresses him per Ranpo-san, which would (to Atsushi, at least) imply respect, yes, but also a lack of familiarity. The only time he doesn’t use Dazai’s given name is either when speaking to a stranger like a client or the police, which is when he does use Dazai's family name; or, when calling for Dazai's attention, he often does so by calling him‘ rookie’. Yosano told Atsushi it's somewhat of an inside joke - apparently Ranpo was the one to train Dazai (much like now Dazai is training him), and Ranpo would pretty much only ever refer to Dazai as rookie for like six straight months.
It’s a little funny, really - Atsushi didn’t even realize they were friends.
two: home is where the heart is
Atsushi stares helplessly at the little slip of paper in his hand before looking up. He repeats the motion a few times, but still, both the address on the paper and the house in front of him remain unchanged.
The house is really nice. Right on the southern outskirts of the city, surrounded by trees and greenery; not completely solitary but comfortably private, the closest neighbors a short walk away. The property seems spacious, with a front lawn and a garden at the back (or so Atsushi has gathered by loitering for the past ten minutes), all bracketed with a tall, wooden fence that mimics a wall, keeping any prying eyes away. The building itself is modern and pretty, likely new and probably with a second story. There’s even a willow tree growing at the side, obscuring a set of windows.
It’s a beautiful place - not the kind of place Atsushi imagined Dazai to live in.
Atsushi has only known him for a few months by this point, but he hardly imagines Dazai having enough money to afford such a nice house, especially on such a secluded piece of land. While he’s, undoubtedly, not as dirt-poor as he claims (all the pick-pocketing is just a fun pastime for him, it seems, and more often than not he does end up paying for things himself), he’s certainly not this rich, Atsushi thinks. It terrifies him to think of just how much real estate in this area is worth. Even with hidden-mafia-money (which Atsushi assumes Dazai has, at least), it must’ve been a terribly big expense. Dazai doesn't exactly strike him as that much of a lavish spender.
Long story short, there’s no way he lives here - and yet, according to the info in his personal file, he does.
He might’ve given a fake address, but all of their personal files had been vetted by the President, so, surely, Dazai wouldn’t have lied on those, right? What would be the point of that?
Atsushi can’t leave without at least checking, though. Kunikida sent him with explicit orders not to come back without Dazai’s signatures on the paperwork for the last case they’ve worked on. And while Dazai might be okay with upsetting Kunikida and delaying things for the police, Atsushi isn’t okay with it.
With a shaky breath, he walks up to the gate of the house, content to just barrel forward and think of what to do later.
The gate, thankfully, is open, so Atsushi doesn’t have to ring the bell - he just quietly opens it, slips in, and closes it behind himself. He gives himself a moment to look around the front lawn - not overtly decorated, no flowers or gardening equipment (though, there is a birdhouse); well kept, but the grass is a little overgrown. He walks the short way towards the front door, and then lets himself hesitate a bit. He’s really not sure what to do if this house isn’t Dazai’s, and he’s almost sure it isn’t. There’s no plaque anywhere with the name of the family living here.
Before he can talk himself out of running away - which, honestly, seems like the best option at this point - the handle of the door twists, and, to his horror, the door opens. Atsushi is ready with about a thousand fumbling explanations, already having taken a step back to prepare for awkwardly backing out, running away and never showing his face here again, but then-
“Is there something you need, or did you come to gawk at the front door?”
In the doorway stands Ranpo. Nothing like Atsushi has ever seen him - instead of his usual work clothes, he’s barefoot, and dressed in lounge wear, a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt with a print that’s long faded. He has glasses on his face - not the ones he uses for his ability, but round, thin-wire ones, perched casually on his nose (does he actually need glasses to see? It'd make sense, seeing as he squints at everything all the time, but then why doesn't he just wear them, then??).
“Oi, kid?”
“Ah!” Atsushi exclaims, flailing awkwardly, and, gosh, out of everyone in the agency, Ranpo is still the one he’s least comfortable with. There’s just something about him, his quick intellect and ability to outsmart even the likes of Dazai that makes Atsushi feel nervous. That and, well - he is the best of the best when it comes to detective work. Over the months in the ADA, Atsushi had seen clients come from all around Japan and even the world to specifically request Ranpo’s help on cases.
Talking to him? No biggie at all. Nu uh, absolutely no big deal whatsoever.
“Uhm, well-” Atsushi begins, not quite meeting Ranpo’s eyes, instead focusing on space behind him. “See, uhm, the police department requires Dazai-san to sign a couple papers, a-and so I-”
Ranpo interrupts him with a hum. “So Kunikida-kun sent you with them. As if the police couldn’t wait a few more days,” the latter he murmurs, as if to himself. He waves his hand vaguely - gesturing Atsushi to come in, Atsushi realizes with a small delay - and disappears into the house.
Atsushi hurriedly enters, and closes the door behind himself, quickly toeing off his shoes.
“Uhm, Ranpo-san,” Atsushi meekly says, about to ask if he perhaps knows where he can find Dazai, seeing as this is apparently Ranpo’s house (which means Dazai did have a false address on his form, and Atsushi will have to tell Kunikida, and boy is Kunikida going to be unhappy about that).
Ranpo doesn’t acknowledge him - instead, he marches down the small hallway, and Atsushi is lead to a spacious living room, one wall almost entirely covered by floor-to-ceiling windows with a door towards a deck that overlooks a garden.
And right outside the glass sliding-door, propped up against the railing of the deck, book in his hand, sits Dazai.
The astonishment that Dazai does, in fact, live in this house isn’t quite enough to overcome the whiplash of seeing him in lounge wear as well, leggings and plain shirt and no bandages on his neck. The moment Atsushi realizes that it is, in fact, Dazai's bare neck he gets a glimpse of, he nearly chokes on the air in his lungs, and his eyes whip down, so Dazai is entirely out of his field of vision, thoughts swimming full of 'oh my God this is just as bad as seeing him naked' .
"It's okay, Atsushi-kun," Dazai calls to him. "It's not like I'm indecent, or anything."
“The kid’s here with papers from the police,” Ranpo says, then, retreating to an armchair; one still inside, but close enough to the door, likely positioned so he and Dazai can comfortably talk.
“No rest for the wicked, I suppose.”
“Uhm, h-how are you, Dazai-san?” Atsushi feels the need to ask.
He looks- well, rough, for a lack of a better word. Bags under his eyes, darker than usual, skin pale, his hair unkempt and messy as if he’d been running his fingers through it all day. The bandages on his arms are stained red in some places.
“Ah, same old,” Dazai smiles, sort of. It’s nowhere near as nice to look at as the smile Atsushi sees on him everyday. He looks like smiling is painful. “Just a bit under the weather.”
Atsushi, no longer as naive as he was when he first joined, doesn't point out the obvious lie. It’s one thing when Dazai happens to skip work for a bit; it’s another when it’s days like these, when, if asked about Dazai’s whereabouts, Fukuzawa-san will simply say he's indisposed for the time being.
At first Atsushi thought it weird - if Dazai were out on sick leave, why not just say so? Everyone else at the Agency seemed to understand the context that Atsushi didn't get. One day, Yosano-sensei pulled him to the side, and asked him to keep Dazai within reach at a case they were supposed to go to; she was worried he’d jump in front of a stray bullet if opportunity struck. Thinking it a joke, Atsushi laughed. Yosano did not.
Dazai’s behavior started making a little more sense, ever since.
They all ignore the elephant in the room in the form of Dazai's neck - Atsushi really tries not to stare, but, well, it's hard. The scar on there makes something in his chest squeeze uncomfortably. Rope burn, he recognizes it - though, usually, he'd see it on people's wrists.
Every now and again, something like that happens - Dazai, on purpose or not, shares a bit of his past, tells a joke that's a little too morbid, acts a little too reckless; Atsushi is always struck with how lucky they are that Dazai is still here.
“You have paperwork, then?”
“Ah, yes!” Atsushi hurries to pull out the stack of papers from his bag. “An accident report, I think? It just needs a few signatures is all.”
He hands them to Dazai along with a pen that he wouldn’t have remembered to bring if it weren’t for Kunikida, and, as Dazai starts skimming the contents, he glances around the space.
It’s a nice, spacious lounge. The windows provide plenty of sunlight, and there’s even a fireplace by the wall. It’s quite modern, but very homely. Cozy, even, with warm tones and knickknacks everywhere. There’s a few detective novels on the coffee table, next to books in what Atsushi clumsily recognizes as titles in English and Russian.
Ranpo keeps clicking on his phone (likely playing a game, if Atsushi were to guess), and Dazai flips through the pages given to him. No one speaks, but the way the two of them sit in silence like this seems comfortable, both of them seemingly content and at home.
“I didn’t know you lived together,” Atsushi says randomly, and regrets it immediately when Ranpo looks up from his phone with a raised brow and that look as if Atsushi said the dumbest thing he'd heard all week. “I mean- just- uhm-”
“It would be strange if we didn’t,” Dazai replies instead, and when Atsushi turns to him again to question wait what is that supposed to mean exactly, Dazai presses the papers back into Atsushi’s hands. “All signed and ready to go. Do send Kunikida-kun my regards.”
Ranpo rolls his eyes, but doesn’t comment. “Atsushi-kun, you can walk yourself out.”
“My, my, where are your manners, Ranpo-san?”
“Together with your survival instincts, I assume.”
“Ah, well, in that case that is a lost cause. Do you need me to show you out, Atsushi-kun?”
“Osamu, I’m sure he can remember the way, unless he’s really-”
“Now, Ranpo-san, let’s not sound so judgmental-”
By the time Atsushi leaves, it’s considerably later in the day, but he’s in good spirits. It's nice to see that Dazai is, if not doing well, then at least in company of someone who can take care of him and make sure he doesn’t hurt himself; and Ranpo isn’t nearly as intimidating in the comfort of his own home as he is in the office.
Atsushi never pegged either of them for the type to want to live with someone, though. They must be better friends than he initially thought.
three: i had a dream about you
A random night in September has Atsushi slumped in a seat on a night train, in tow with Ranpo and Dazai after a case that had taken them out all the way out to Okayama.
Though, three people were definitely an overkill for what turned out to be a rather simple, albeit a bit messy case - Ranpo himself needed no more than a few hours to sort out the situation and pinpoint the suspect. Arresting him proved to be a little bit of a problem; Dazai and Atsushi had to race him around town for a bit, until they managed to get him cornered and turned him in to the authorities. Atsushi was only there because he’s still supposed to shadow Dazai whenever he happens to be out and about on a case. Although he hadn’t really contributed anything, it was still enjoyable to spend time with Dazai. Ranpo had even been in a good enough mood to walk Atsushi through all the clues that led him to their suspect.
They only just made it for the last train - having spent a considerable time debriefing at the local police department (something Ranpo complained about relentlessly), it’s a wonder they did make it. The carriage they enter is empty sans a few dozing passengers, and the clock on the digital display tells Atsushi it’s 11 at night. It takes roughly three or so hours to get back to Yokohama - at least the President gave them tomorrow off.
Dazai chats Atsushi up, completely unruffled by the late hour - Atsushi isn’t even surprised. He’s learned overtime that Dazai’s habits are peculiar at best, and highly concerning at worst; the man is rather known for operating on little-to-no sleep, and Atsushi suspects he’s a night-owl anyway.
(Atsushi had attempted to ask him about it, once upon a time - Dazai only laughed and said he ‘lives off of self-loathing and caffeine.’ No one else even as much as blinked at the statement - Yosano had said to him that they were trying to wean Dazai off of gallows humor, but that felt mild considering other things he’d heard Dazai say, so he ended up not ratting Dazai out to her for that comment.)
Their conversation circles around the case at first - about the victims and how they’re fairing, to Atsushi marveling at how different Okayama seems from Yokohama - before settling on office gossip and completely arbitrary topics. Ever since Atsushi has learned where Dazai lives (together with Ranpo, which has begun to oddly make sense, the more he’d been interacting with them both and understanding how alike they seem to be), Dazai has been slowly introducing him to a small army of stray cats that prowl around his neighborhood. He has pictures of each of them on his phone, and the excited way he talks about each of them is almost endearing, if Atsushi would dare to think like that about someone he considers a figure of authority. He named all the cats, and seems to be acutely aware of their state of affairs, knowing exactly which cats like one another and which don’t, their favorite snacks, and where in the neighborhood their preferred nap spots are.
Ranpo contributes surprisingly little - by now, Atsushi is used to his and Dazai’s typical banter; Ranpo’s blunt statements or offhanded observations, and Dazai’s humorous remarks and equally clever explanations.
(Sometimes when they speak to each other, Atsushi marvels on how they seem to be on the same wavelength, intellectually - it’s almost scary sometimes, how much they’re able to tell each other with just a few carefully handpicked words. He's pretty sure he's heard 'conversations' they've had where neither of them had used a single verb.)
Ranpo is never quiet, per se - he’s hardly someone to completely carry a conversation unless very interested in the topic, but he always at least throws in a comment, or lets himself be pulled into a discussion; especially by Dazai, who knows exactly how to rope him in. The longer the ride is, though, the less Ranpo speaks. As Dazai is talking animatedly, Ranpo seems to be dozing off in his seat, trying (and failing) to find a comfortable position to sleep for the duration of the trip.
“-a litter of kittens, and there’s one, Chibi, I call him, that’s bright orange and so angry all the time-”
“Stop moving s’much,” Ranpo cuts him off tiredly, words slurring together. He scoots himself closer to Dazai, moving his legs so they’re slung over Dazai’s own - Atsushi isn’t really sure what he’s doing at first, since if Ranpo wanted to switch seats he could’ve just asked, but then Ranpo just sits himself on Dazai’s lap. Just like that.
Dazai remains stock still, letting Ranpo rest his head in the crook of his neck - from the look on his face, he doesn’t even seem surprised. He looks down at Ranpo with a peculiar smile, one that Atsushi doesn't really see on him, small and soft. One of his arms goes around Ranpo to cautiously embrace him, resting his hand on the detective’s thigh. It’s not sexual, but it is intimate, and Atsushi feels a bit lost (and oddly embarrassed).
“Mhm,” Dazai hums, turning his head back to Atsushi with a twinkle in his eye. “What was I talking about?”
“That cat that's like your ex,” Ranpo mumbles - his eyes are closed, though, and the hand he’s put on Dazai’s arm is loosing its grip.
“Ah, right,” Dazai laughs - he leans back slightly, lowering his voice closer to a whisper, and he resumes speaking as if nothing is amiss.
Atsushi only half listens (and files away ‘Dazai’s ex-boyfriend’ to ask about for later - office gossip is an important part of the job), too taken aback by what he’s seeing. The display is very intimate and yet so casual, as if it isn’t the first time this happened; and it likely isn’t, judging by how relaxed Dazai was - is - and how he knows exactly how to sit to allow Ranpo to be comfortable. Which Ranpo must be, judging by his hand going lax on Dazai’s arm, sliding down to lay on his own lap, his breath even and his face as calm as Atsushi has ever seen it. He fell asleep, just like that, in what couldn’t have been more than ten minutes after he switched places.
Dazai holds him carefully, and Atsushi isn’t sure if it’s for comfort, or to prevent Ranpo from slipping down.
“Uhm, Dazai-san,” Atsushi interrupts before he can think any better. It’s just so out of nowhere.
“Hm?” at the pointed glance Atsushi throws at Ranpo, Dazai laughs quietly. “Ranpo-san’s never been very good at staying up. He’s one of those morning people, ” Dazai says with an oversaturated horrified tone. “He usually goes to bed at the same time every night and that passed a few hours ago. No wonder he's cranky. You'd hate to see him after an all-nighter, trust me.”
“Aren’t you-” weirded out, upset, concerned about your personal boundaries- “uncomfortable? Like that?”
“Not really,” Dazai says. “Ranpo-san and I don’t have many assignments together that have us actually going places - y’know, we're usually the ones taking care of everything from inside the office - but if we do, it’s the ones that are overnight or require traveling. This,” Dazai smiles, pointedly looking at Ranpo “is pretty much why.”
That still doesn’t really answer why is it that Dazai allows him to do it - if it were anyone else, Atsushi is fairly sure Dazai would recoil as if burned. By the time he thinks to ask, though, Dazai once again moves on to a different topic. The conversation dies down eventually, Atsushi finally getting hit by the fatigue of travel and work - he’s barely keeping his eyes open by the time the train finally, blissfully stops in Yokohama.
Dazai rouses Ranpo with a gentleness Atsushi didn’t think the man had in him - Ranpo, predictably, complains anyway, but it’s half-hearted and sluggish as he keeps himself standing only thanks to being glued to Dazai’s side, and Dazai's arms around him.
Dazai orders two cabs - one for Atsushi, and one for him and Ranpo; Atsushi doesn’t have it in him to either insist Dazai doesn’t pay for him, or be surprised that Dazai is actually paying for him. The car Dazai ordered for himself arrives first, so Atsushi bids them both a tired farewell; the last he sees of them, Dazai is packing up a half-lucid Ranpo into the cab.
Before the door shuts, Atsushi catches a glimpse of Ranpo lying his head down into Dazai’s lap. He’s too tired to think too much of it, though.
four: beauty is a form of genius
Running errands for Yosano might not be the ideal way to spend a workday, but, overtime, Atsushi has found himself enjoying it a lot. Walking around Yokohama, getting to take in the people, the shops, the smells and sights of a town he’s grown to love; it’s going through the motions in the most pleasant way, step by step, picking up medical or office supplies, checking up on certain clients, and getting to stop for a crepe along the way too.
Today is Dazai’s day off, and so Atsushi would be stuck inside if it weren’t for the errands. Paperwork isn’t terrible, or anything - he certainly doesn’t feel the need to avoid it like the plague like some people - but it’s good to get to stretch his legs and get himself familiar with the city. Plus, he likes Yosano - it feels good to be able to do something nice for her, even if it is his literal job to do as his seniors say. It’s nice to be useful.
He’s downtown, having just picked up a few packages, and all that’s left is to deliver them back to the Agency. Cutting through the park seems like a lovely way to pass the time.
Atsushi walks with a smile on his face as he looks around - there’s a big fountain in the center of the park, and by the wide concrete paths there’s various cafes and ice cream stands. It’s warm enough that there’s outdoor seating, though it doesn’t seem to be too busy - it is downtown and only noon on a work day, after all. Atsushi spots only one couple sitting outside.
He turns his head back to the fountains, eyes tracking a child walking along the ridge-
-now hold on.
He whips his head back to the table by one cafe - it can’t be, right? He must’ve just thought he saw someone familiar, but it was someone who looked similar to Dazai; but no way it’s actually him there. Right?
If it’s not, Atsushi will look like an idiot, but he has that feeling - so he jogs to the edge of the walkway and towards the cafe.
“Dazai-san,” Atsushi calls once he’s sufficiently close to be absolutely 100% sure it’s him. And- “Oh, Ranpo-san!”
“Atsushi-kun!” Dazai smiles at him once Atsushi is by the table. “Whatever brings you here?”
“He’s Yosano’s servant for the day,” Ranpo snickers, pointedly looking at the bags hanging from Atsushi’s hands. He’s eating what appears to be an ice cream dessert with a bunch of biscuits in it; there is already one empty dessert cup next to it, and a half-full glass of some iced tea. Dazai’s side of the table has a milkshake and two pieces of chocolate cake.
Atsushi didn’t even realize Ranpo also has the day off today, but come to think of it, Atsushi hadn't seen him at the office this morning. It makes sense, he guesses, for them to spend their time off together - since they live with each other, they must be good friends (although Atsushi briefly wonders how come they don't get sick of each other).
There’s something inherently odd to it, seeing his coworkers outside of the workplace on their day off for the first time. Ranpo doesn’t look too different, although he is dressed a little differently - he’s wearing a short-sleeved button up and a jean-jacket - plus Atsushi can see some sort of leather string hanging from his neck, disappearing under his shirt.
Dazai, though. Dazai looks different, Atsushi notes; that’s why it was so hard to recognize him.
He's also forgone his smart-casual work attire; instead, he’s wearing a loose, light-green button-up, tucked into a pair of brown, pants, high-waisted with a column of flat copper buttons on the front. The shirt (or maybe it could be called a blouse, Atsushi has no idea about clothes) exposes his neck in a way his work shirt never does. The bandage he’d usually cover it with has been replaced with a silky, dark brown ribbon, fit snugly against his skin like a makeshift choker. He’s even wearing makeup - his eyelids are shaded brown, and there’s some sort of a thin brown line painted snug to his eyelash line, extending out and into a little wing (Atsushi also has no idea about makeup).
He looks so nice. The colors of his clothes compliment his light complexion, and his hair seems fluffier than usual; Atsushi thinks he even spots something shiny when the sunlight hits right, either an earring or a hairpin, and a thought echoes in Atsushi’s head:
Wow, Dazai-san looks really pretty.
Ranpo dissolve into hysterical giggling all of a sudden, and Dazai turns towards him with a completely baffled look- fuck. He said it out loud.
He can feel his face burning, and he can only look as Dazai actually processes what he said while wishing the world would end right now, this moment, starting from this very place please-
“Ah,” Dazai waves his hand nonchalantly, turning his head away from Atsushi (thank God, cause Atsushi is never going to able to look him in the eyes ever again). “Now, now, empty flattery will get you nowhere, Atsushi-kun!”
Ranpo perches his head atop his hand, leaning forwards ever so slightly.
“Kid’s not wrong,” he says with a smile - Atsushi can’t decide if he’s mocking him, Dazai, or them both. “You do look pretty. You should try dressing up for work every now and again.”
Dazai rolls his eyes.
“It’s unprofessional,” is his reply. Ranpo snatches a spoonful of Dazai’s dessert, not breaking eye-contact (Atsushi doubts it’s the first time; it's probably why Dazai has two slices of cake instead of just one).
“Right, of course,” Ranpo says slowly, his smile curling like a proverbial cat’s. “How would any of us be able to pay attention to actually doing work, when no one would be able to take their eyes off you?”
There’s an actual honest to God blush spreading on Dazai’s cheeks now, and his eyes loose Ranpo’s again as he bites his lower lip in a failed attempt to hide a smile.
Atsushi feels like he’s intruding on something. Like he, maybe, probably, should leave.
“Ranpo-san,” Dazai says breathlessly. “Kunikida-kun would not approve of such talk.”
“Well, Kunikida-kun has no taste,” Ranpo shrugs, “don’t you think, kid?”
“Uh,” Atsushi squeaks as attention is once again turned towards him. “I should- go? Um, yeah, I need to-”
“Don’t let Ranpo-san scare you off,” Dazai smiles at him - Atsushi chooses to not look at him, though, and will continue not-looking at him for the rest of forever, preferably. “You’re free to join us if you’d like. It’s Ranpo-san’s treat.”
“‘m not paying for him.”
“You’re paying for me! It’d be rude not to extend it to Atsushi-kun as well.”
“You coerced me into paying in the first place-”
“It’s okay!” Atsushi hurriedly butts in. “I have some errands to run still, I just- I just wanted to say hello.”
“We’ll see you tomorrow, kid,” Ranpo nods at him - stealing yet another bit of Dazai’s cake. Dazai playfully slaps his hand, but he lets Ranpo eat the bit of cake anyway.
Atsushi bids them farewell and hurries off.
Something about that whole thing makes him feel strange. Not uncomfortable, or anything, but like he’d missed something, but he can’t quite figure out what. It was the most odd banter between friends he'd witnessed up to date.
Dazai, surprisingly enough, does come to work dressed differently a few days later - not as nice as he’d looked in the cafe, but he starts wearing eyeliner (Yosano said that’s what it’s called) more often, and switching his button-ups or baggier sweaters for tighter shirts or turtlenecks in various colors. It’s not like Dazai would wear the same thing every day before, but it’s always been very safe clothing that would cover him up rather than bring out his features.
Atsushi finds it lovely that Dazai is feeling confident enough to branch out (he feels Dazai absolutely deserves to feel attractive, because, objectively, he is, and he's got no idea why the man has no self-esteem looking the way he does) - up until Ranpo asks him, loud enough so the entire office can hear, whether he thinks Dazai looks pretty now too.
five: sugar-coated
Atsushi is trailing behind Dazai after a short mission that took them to the town center, the two chatting mindlessly about this or that, when Dazai abruptly stops in the middle of the sidewalk, Atsushi crushing into his back.
“Dazai-san, what-”
Before he can say anything else - or complain, cause ouch, his nose hurts from the impact with Dazai’s shoulder - Dazai’s dramatic coat whirls around him, and the detective disappears into a store in front of them, not a word of warning or explanation.
Atsushi is left there blinking at the spot where Dazai stopped - sure, Dazai tends to be eccentric, but this still leaves him a little bit confused. It was Dazai who was leading them, though, and Atsushi doesn’t exactly know this part of town super well, so his choices are to either wait here, or follow Dazai inside. Awkwardness of standing in the middle of the sidewalk proves to be too much (Atsushi hates when people stare at him, and they are starting to), and Atsushi carefully enters the store - like a normal person, with zero flare or energy that Dazai put into the ordeal.
The store is extremely cozy on the inside - all warm decor, dark brown furniture, and cute photos of sweet treats and chocolate on small trays. There’s a glass display full of little cakes, and one with various boxes of treats; it’s mostly chocolate, though.
Dazai, having wasted no time apparently, is chatting up the cashier, both of them hunched over something on the counter.
Atsushi slowly walks up to them, still looking around, trying not to look weird - he’d come here with Dazai, so it’s okay if he overhears something, right? If Dazai didn’t want him here he’d have told him to wait outside. And it’s not like Dazai will care, it’s a conversation with a chocolate store employee, not anything private.
(All of that doesn’t make Atsushi feel any less awkward anyway. But he tried. So there’s that.)
“-and how about coffee?” the cashier asks. Atsushi now sees he’s got little boxes of chocolate spread around, showing them to Dazai.
“Too bitter,” Dazai waves it off. “Caramel will be good, though. Oh, and the candied fruit ones as well.”
“Ah, a sweet tooth?” the man smiles at Dazai, and Dazai brightly smiles back, leaning against the counter. Atsushi ponders for a second if Dazai is here just to flirt with the poor man.
“Ah, like no other!”
The cashier puts a few pieces of chocolate into another box, separate from all the boxes he’s got stacked next to him, where Atsushi assumes he holds samples and whatnot.
“If that’s the case, I think adding these will be good as well-” the man gestures at one of the boxes - this one is pink with white stripes. “These are seasonal, milk chocolate with different fillings. Strawberry, raspberry, and rose, coated in a thin layer of sugar. Extra sweet, so not everyone likes them, but they seem perfect for what you’re looking for.”
Dazai agrees, and keeps making meaningless small talk as the cashier packs up the little candy pieces into a box, then closing it and tying a pale pink ribbon around it. Dazai pays with a sleek black card Atsushi has never seen him use before.
(Atsushi does wonder if he pickpocketed it out of some random passerby, or is that the one with all the Mafia money.)
He stands there awkwardly by the door as Dazai completes the transaction and then takes the little box of goodies, cradling it carefully as he turns around and walks towards Atsushi. He doesn’t even seem remotely surprised to see him there.
“Time’s a-ticking, Atsushi-kun!” he promptly says, waves the clerk goodbye, and pushes the door open again. This time he waits for Atsushi to follow him before he starts walking - it seems they’re once again on the route back to the Agency.
“Uhm, Dazai-san,” Atsushi begins, looking at the box in the man’s arms. “What’s with the chocolate?”
“What, do I need an excuse to buy some sweets, hm?” - this is where he’d usually start walking backwards, seeing as he likes talking with people when facing them, but it seems the chocolate box is more important than his usual theatrics, and he keeps himself walking normally, by Atsushi’s side.
“You don’t,” Atsushi says simply. Dazai does have a sweet tooth, that he knows - nothing that rivals Ranpo, but he enjoys sweet things, chocolate in particular (and that Atsushi knows because Yosano, apparently, bribes him into taking anti-depressants with bars of chocolate. It’s not exactly a healthy practice, but for one - Dazai refuses to go to therapy, and two - it works). “But normally you’d just buy a chocolate bar from a convenience store, not something that expensive.”
Dazai hums, eyeing him with a smile.
“Well, these are a gift, is the thing,” he states, in that tone of voice of his that he uses to embark wisdom that’s most of the time absolutely useless. “And when it comes to gifts, you can never go wrong with some high quality chocolate, remember that, Atsushi-kun!”
Atsushi isn’t exactly sure when he’s gonna have an opportunity to just be buying someone a custom box of chocolates from what was clearly a high-end shop, but, well. Good to know?
Dazai and him chatter mindlessly for the rest of the way back, Dazai still cradling the box, easily evading the people along the sidewalk, his stride brisk yet careful. When they get back to the office, Atsushi expects Dazai to take a seat at his desk, go lounge around on the couch, or sneak into Yosano’s office for “a consultation” (which is what they call their gossip sessions); instead, though, Dazai skips over to Ranpo’s desk instead.
“Ah, I thought I’d perish waiting for you, y’know?” Ranpo drawls, making grabby-hands in Dazai’s general direction.
“Ranpo-san, you know I’d never let that happen,” Dazai says ever-so-seriously. He keeps the box just out of Ranpo’s reach, so far. “I believe I am owed some magic words?”
Ranpo groans - Dazai responds with a smile in kind. They're in a stalemate like that just long enough for Atsushi to start feeling second-hand awkward.
“You’re so high-maintenance, I swear.”
“Takes one to know one!”
“Thank you,” Ranpo sighs, as if it physically pains him to say.
Dazai beams, as if it isn’t both common courtesy to thank someone for a gift, and also the lousiest thanks Atsushi has ever heard.
“Atsushi,” Ranpo calls, eyes still on Dazai though, “there should be a file on your desk for a new case.”
“Oh!” Atsushi turns, leaning to his desk, scanning his eyes over it, but- “Ranpo-san, there isn’t anything here?” He turns as he’s asking, and- huh. “Dazai-san, are you okay? You’re looking a little red.”
Straightening his back (he must’ve been putting the box down on the desk), Dazai laughs, and there’s definitely a blush to his cheekbones that wasn’t there before, the man fixing his coat, although it looked just fine a minute ago-
“Just fine,” Dazai replies. “The stairs, y’know?”
They took the elevator, actually. Atsushi decides not to question it.
“Ah, kid, that file,” Ranpo says, chocolate box already open, popping one into his mouth with a grin. “Right here, sorry. My bad,” he waves a file in his hand.
Atsushi skips over and takes it, nodding in thanks. He walks back to his desk, and just as he’s to sit down, he asks out of curiosity:
“How are the chocolates?”
“Good,” Ranpo says with a wicked grin, glancing up at Dazai. “Aren’t they, Osamu?”
“Yeah,” Dazai answers him. “I have good taste, don’t I?”
Atsushi is left wondering when exactly did Dazai have the chance to try any of the chocolate.
and one: in sickness and in health
The day Atsushi (finally) finds out, is of course a day in which Dazai gets stabbed.
The sight of the knife in the suspect’s hand isn’t particularly shocking - it seems to be a habit of Dazai’s: getting shot at, pointed at with a knife, attacked, held hostage, kidnapped, and anything of the like. Comes with the territory when he and Kunikida seem to get the most volatile missions. Plus, Dazai not only never seems to know when to shut up, but his self-preservation instincts are basically nonexistent.
He isn’t careless, though. He sees five steps ahead of everybody, and ever since the first time Atsushi had seen Dazai in a fight, it was obvious that Dazai knows what he’s doing. He’s clearly got some level of self-defense trained into him (courtesy of his Mafia upbringing, most likely). He does much better with guns (Dazai's accuracy with guns is actually kind of terrifying, but that's a completely different matter), but he can defend himself up close if needed, if only for long enough to wait for backup.
This time, though, they have a brutal case that they can’t crack, no matter what. It irks everybody, and they’re all pulling in extra hours to try and get some sort of breakthrough, but Dazai seems to be literally working non-stop. It’s three weeks of him already at the office before anyone else and still there, hunched over his work when Atsushi drags himself out to get at least a few hours of sleep. Even Kunikida doesn’t as much as glance at Dazai when he happens to nap at his desk, clearly beyond exhausted - and that lasts maybe an hour or two at most before an alarm on Dazai’s phone goes off, and he’s right back to it.
When, at last, there’s a break, Dazai, Kunikida and Atsushi are on it immediately. Once they confront the killer, adrenaline is buzzing through the air - the boost in energy is much needed, but not enough. Dazai is clearly dizzy with exhaustion, his reflexes not as sharp as they usually are, and the realization of the killer having a weapon comes just a tiny bit too late.
Kunikida puts a bullet in the killer’s shoulder - but not before he’s pushing a knife between Dazai’s ribs, Dazai a fraction of a second too late to stop him or dodge to the side.
There’s blood, soaking Dazai’s sweater, spilling, pouring past Dazai’s fingers where he’s squeezing his side. He’s still smiling, swaying on his feet, and he’s talking to Atsushi, something- something about checking the scene, about getting the killer into cuffs and away from here.
(Trying to spare Atsushi the view, lest this is the time he sees someone die for the first time.)
Atsushi remembers what happened through a fog; Kunikida yelling at somebody, Dazai leaning against the wall of the alley, his feet rooted to the ground, unable to move. He doesn’t know who called the ambulance, but he remembers the noise, the paramedics taking Dazai away. There’s blood on Atsushi’s hands, and on his clothes, and it doesn’t quite register until he’s at the hospital, being denied any information about Dazai’s wellbeing on account of neither him nor Kunikida being family members.
Kunikida tries arguing - Atsushi is in too much shock to do anything other than shake and cry a little - but everything falls on deaf ears. The receptionist is relentless, uncaring of Kunikida’s badge (apparently they have badges??), saying that only their co-worker’s family is privy to that information.
As far as Atsushi knows, Dazai has no family though. Does it really count for nothing that they work together? Kunikida is his partner, that should count for something, right?
What if- God, Atsushi doesn’t even want to think it, just the idea is enough to numb him to the core- but what if Dazai’s dead? What then? Will they be told?
He’s not going to die, though, right? They got him to the hospital fast.
But there was so much blood, and Dazai- Dazai looked so pale, and he was shaking-
How would they break the news to everyone? God, how would Atsushi live with himself if Dazai died on a case with him? Stabbed by somebody, putting himself in harm’s way when Atsushi’s damn ability is regeneration.
Dazai and him talked this morning, while there was a lull in the office, that once the case is done, Dazai is going to take him to this one Boba store on the edge of town that he really likes. Recently, Dazai’s mentioned he reconciled with his old Mafia partner, that they’re finally on speaking terms again, and Dazai looked so happy to have an old friend back. He hasn't managed to convince Ranpo to get a cat yet. Hell, he hasn’t tried to honestly kill himself in what seemed to be months. Dazai can’t just die now, not when things are finally looking up.
Atsushi doesn’t know what he’s going to do if-
A set of hurried footsteps through the door has him raising his head. Ranpo and Yosano hurriedly make their way inside and towards the reception desk. Atsushi and Kunikida are up from their seats immediately, running up to the two. There’s already pleas on the tip of his tongue, maybe, since Yosano is a doctor, she could somehow check that Dazai is at least still alive.
“Ranpo-san,” Atsushi tries to politely butt in to let him know about the absolute bullshit policy of ‘hey, your friend got stabbed and is possibly bleeding out as we speak but none of you are on his family registry so no can do, sorry not sorry’.
“I’m afraid if you’re here for somebody, it has to be a family member acquiring,” the receptionist says, eyeing Kunikida and Atsushi. They’re back to square one, then.
“It is, in fact,” Ranpo says, digging in his pockets for something. He pulls out his wallet, and then quickly slides something to the receptionist- his ID, maybe?
“Edogawa. He was admitted not too long ago, right? Let us see him.”
The receptionist looks skeptical - Atsushi glaring at her probably doesn’t help - but she starts clicking away at her computer for a few seconds.
“Edogawa Osamu, family name Dazai,” the receptionist recites. Wait, what? How come she read it as if Dazai’s name- “And you’re a family member?”
“His husband.”
what.
“What?” Atsushi mumbles, blinking rapidly.
“Edogawa Ranpo, it should be there,” Ranpo hisses at her, uncaring of the commotion behind him; Kunikida might’ve choked on something, but Atsushi is too stunned to look. “You have my damn ID, tell me where my husband is.”
“Please?” Yosano adds, flashing the receptionist a smile.
The receptionist takes a long look at Ranpo’s ID and then at whatever she sees on the computer - long enough that some of Atsushi’s mental faculties return - but she eventually relents, telling them Dazai was getting surgery, but should already be stabilized. She gives them a room number.
Yosano, by some innate doctor power or something, seems to know right where to go, leading them through the hallways, until they arrive at the right doors. No one speaks.
Ranpo doesn’t hesitate for a second - he’s inside immediately, no questions asked. Well, some questions asked from the nurse inside the room, but Yosano (what would they do without her, really) quickly assures her that Ranpo is, indeed, family, and the rest of them are there with his permission.
Dazai is - first of all, he’s alive, and that’s almost enough to have Atsushi break into tears; other than that, he’s propped up by a couple pillows, dressed in a hospital gown, an IV attached to his arm. He looks only half-awake, which is more lucid than Atsushi expected from someone just out of surgery - then again, he has no idea how long he and Kunikida had sat in the lobby. It might’ve been a while.
“A whole entourage, hm? I’m flattered,” Dazai chuckles; his voice is strained, and it seems to hurt him a little to even speak, but, again, he’s alive. “It’s not that serious, though. Just a flesh wound.”
“You traumatized the kid,” Ranpo scoffs, but he goes to sit next to Dazai on the bed - he flicks Dazai on the forehead.
“Ow! I’m hurt, don’t hurt me even more!”
“That’s what you get for making everybody worry, dumbass.”
“Aw, Ranpo-san, were you worried?” Dazai smiles sweetly. “What a proper senpai you are.”
Ranpo doesn’t reply, but he tilts his head just so, and Dazai pauses. His eyes then drift from Ranpo to Atsushi.
“Ah, the cat’s out of the bag, hm?” Dazai sighs in resignation. "Though, it shouldn't count, since you spilled."
"I did it only cause you got stabbed. And I didn't tell him, he just overheard when I told someone else. You should've thought of that before getting knifed in the ribs, sorry, sweetheart."
“Damn. You lost me money, Atsushi-kun.”
“Huh?” Atsushi, as he often does, feels lost in wherever this conversation had gone to.
“I was sure you wouldn’t find out until the New Year!” Dazai whines dramatically (great, that means he’s already feeling better). “If nothing outed us yet, it was bound to stretch til then!”
Yosano snorts. “He’s clueless, but he’s not dumb.”
“Well he’s not exactly smart,” Ranpo quips.
“Hey!”
“Sorry, kid, but we’ve been flaunting it at this point,” Ranpo gestures to himself and Dazai. “It’s astounding how nothing we’ve done gave you any sort of pause.”
“I just thought you were friends!”
Yosano outright laughs at that.
“If it helps at all,” Dazai says - his speech is slurring a little bit, now, which means they’ve probably put him on some good painkillers that are starting to kick in now. “Judging by his face now, I don’t think Kunikida-kun had any idea either. Well, about the marriage, at least. He knew we were a thing already.”
“When did you even have the time to get married? You’ve only been working with us for two years!”
“We eloped like six months ago,” Dazai mumbles. “Weddings are too much hassle, y’know?”
Huh. Atsushi would’ve expected them to go through with a wedding, if only for the cake.
“This disaster needs to rest, I think,” Ranpo says, before Atsushi can begin asking questions. “We’ll have time to play 20 questions about our relationship when he doesn’t have any additional holes in his body.”
“Mh,” Dazai whines, as Ranpo forcefully lowers him on the bed. “Make’im tell you about our first kiss, ‘t was so cute-”
“Oh, I think I’d rather tell Atsushi about that one time when you-”
“Kay, nevermind, shoo! I’m sleeping now.”
Yosano, Kunikida and Atsushi gather to leave - Ranpo stays behind, still sat on Dazai’s bedside. As Atsushi closes the door, the last of the room that he sees, Ranpo is hunched over Dazai, brushing Dazai’s hair away from his face.
-
“You really are so troublesome, y’know that?” Ranpo asks, his fingers brushing through Dazai’s messy fringe.
Dazai grins up at him, leaning into the touch as much as possible. The case - the very one Dazai got stabbed for, don’t let nobody tell you he’s not dedicated to his job - took up all of their attention lately. Call him touch-starved or overly-attached or whatever, but Dazai missed just being with Ranpo.
The whole bet about how long it would take Atsushi to find out they’re involved with each other (which had started right about the time when Atsushi seemed utterly baffled with the idea of them living together - they put two and two together very quickly) obviously had some ground rules, one being to stay away from anything that would outright reveal their relationship to the boy. It would spoil the fun. But that meant no kisses around the office (or, at least not when Atsushi was there; though they might’ve sneaked in a few ones when his back was turned), no cuddling on the couch, no Dazai napping on Ranpo’s lap, or Ranpo playing with his hair just like he is now.
It was fun while it lasted, but Dazai is very glad that they have their PDA rights reinstalled.
(Kunikida will undoubtedly complain, but neither Dazai nor Ranpo have ever cared much.)
“You wouldn’t like me half as much if I was boring,” Dazai slurs at him, one of his hands clumsily reaching up to poke Ranpo in the cheek. “And I didn’t die!”
“I guess you didn’t, though you did spill most of your blood all over Atsushi. The kid was really worried, y’know?”
“Aw,” Dazai coos. “You care about him, hm, Ranpo? What happened to leaving me to care for my strays by myself?”
“He’s still yours.”
“I can’t believe you’re disowning our son like this.”
Ranpo rolls his eyes. Or so Dazai thinks, at least. Everything is starting to get a little loopy and blurry, not to mention he’s getting tired.
The last thing Dazai recalls is the feather-soft kiss Ranpo places on his forehead.
“Sleep well, dummy.”