[Dazai Osamu x Reader]
The world knows you as a person with numerous masks and personalities all thanks to the immoral line of work you've decided to do... to survive.
Your survival doesn't only rely on money, it also relies on the fact that your t...
RECAP: After your adventurous trip to the past— curtsey of Fukuzawa's brilliant idea for an Agency Entrance Exam— you were miraculously rescued by the agency's suicidal member from drowning.
Days later, while attempting to cope with the emotions conjured up from your Port Mafia days, a jog close to the port gets you tangled up with Mafia Executives. You end up injured by one and nursed back to health by the other before returning back to your flat.
There, the last of your emotional turmoil, Dazai Osamu, had slithered into your bed to force your long overdue confrontation about your feelings for him to take place.
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A resigned breath swept out from your lips as the arduous work of bandaging came to pass and you were finally able to stand from the edge of the tub to meet the relentless gaze on the mirror.
Your previous battle of frustration wasn't entirely due to your inability to bandage with one hand, the fact a bath was used as a ridiculous excuse to escape Dazai— for the second time— was partly to blame as well.
While a part of you was resolved to face the unyielding turmoil of emotions drugging your senses and thoughts, today posed as a major step back when negativity stood before you.
Negativity that cackled at the prospect of you deigning a decent relationship with the dilemma of the Armed Detective Agency.
If you were being practical, and with all the knowledge you've collected on Dazai Osamu's personality, it would be absolutely absurd to think the bandaged man capable of sating your deprived sentiments and remaining committed.
Not because of his infamous reputation as a womaniser, but because of... him.
Your argument to the case was in itself a negativity, to which some would presume it to be truth. However, countless were the times you had difficulty discerning negativity from truth. Then again, what had your life amassed for thus far due to that thinking?
True you gained emotional clarity, but not immunity to the effects of misfortune on your life.
Perhaps it was unwise to dwell on the whole situation under the heat of a shower, so you settled with a simple challenge: if Dazai didn't leave the flat, then you'll take it as a divine sign for confrontation.
With this determination, a spark of light returned to your eyes as you slipped a cardigan over your shoulders and aimed for the door handle.
You took deep breaths, preparing yourself for any outcome, then paused for a moment to reprimand yourself on how dramatic you've become before instantly leaving the bathroom.
The place was serenely quiet and as disappointment started to slowly set in, a head of brown fluff emerged from the kitchenette sporting a merry smile as it declared, "breakfast is ready~!"
A sigh of relief would have winded down from you had it not been for the creeping anxiety bewitching your composure and twisting your insides the instant his melodic voice registered.
You took small steps to the small dining table a humming Dazai was setting up and sat rigidly. He slipped into his own seat across from you, looking deeply into your eyes.
Instantly, your gaze dipped to the table, body heated, senses on alert and you started cursing yourself for the idiotic challenge.
"I'll make the tea..." you blurted, rescuing yourself from the sickness threatening to lurch out of your mouth and swiftly made for the cabinet.
Dazai simply released a hum of acknowledgement, making your senses tingle and cheeks blaze hotter as you fiddled with what your mind had momentarily forgotten how to make.
Tea.
Right, you were making tea.
"Need any assistance?" the question caught you off guard as the voice was too close to have originated from a table some distance away.
"No— no, I can manage!" the reply was swiftly delivered to the body looming behind you while fumbling with the task at hand. It was only when the electronic kettle started steaming from the boiled water could you entirely relate to it.
Relating was an understatement, however, when you spied bandaged hands sliding on the counter and caging you in.
The figure leaned closer to your ear to whisper honeyed words: "you thought I wouldn't know?"
Your mouth went dry as your mind did its own acrobatic scenes at the implication and before having a second to consider a better way of playing this out, your lips took the initiative, "know what?"
A moment passed, crawling at your spine at how long it seemed and all the tension melted away when Dazai stepped back with a laugh, "I knew I was setting a fashion statement but to think you'd be the first to follow it?"
Spinning around, you met his seal of a laughter with a deep frown, "what?"
"The bandages," Dazai smirked with a pointed look at your shoulder.
"Oh..." you released a sound, mixing a relieved sigh with a cynical laugh as your left hand rested on the bandaged shoulder.
His smirk faltered as did his entire demeanor in a matter of seconds as Dazai stepped closer and squeezed your shoulder, making you wince at the thrumming pain and affirming the speculation dawning on him.
Arms folded, eyes scrutinising the bandaged wound, he asked tightly, "who did that?"
Author's BS:
So my stubbornness won't allow me to mark this story as discontinued or simply delete it cause... no.
Also, I have read every single comment kindly written for this story and I've got to say if stubbornness didn't get me to delete the story, comments and reads made me pick it up again!
After mf YEARS, I'm updating :)
Y'all I took YEARS to write this chapter :)
Where's my Guinness record award?
Anyways, enjoy this chapter (if by some Godly miracle, you're still reading) and the one after it!
Thank you, readers/commenters and have a splendidly splendid day or night <3
