Little Doll (Mafia!Dazai x reader)

(C. 1) Onigiri

Everything new in the world is born from loss. Loss of freedom, loss of a loved one, a talent, a special treasured trinket. There is no inspiration, no drive to do anything different, without loss or threat thereof. That was how Dazai saw it, anyways. 

It was why he sought his own demise so fervently. In the short course of his life, he had experienced every sort of loss he could possibly imagine. Nothing was new to him anymore, and that meant nothing new could come from him. Sure, every experience was different in theory, but they all start to blend together after a while. He thought that through the ultimate loss, that of his own corporeal existence, he might be able to create something truly beautiful. Or something truly terrible, not that he saw much difference between the two.

Loss had lead him to where he was in life, and loss would lead him on to the next thing. It was as simple as that. It was how he'd ended up at Mori's clinic and, he assumed, that was the way the girl had ended up there as well. The way he saw it, in order for the balance to be maintained, loss must be the way out as well.

She had been there since the beginning, since before the beginning honestly. The very first time he had ever crossed paths with the notorious man he now found himself working under, he had been holding her little hand in his own. Even now, as Dazai sat in the corner of the clinic preparing a tonic for one of Mori's patients, she sat at the foot of Mori's chair.

With the lolita style dresses she always wore and the wide emptiness of her eyes, he had always thought she looked like a doll. The fact he never heard you say a word didn't help the perception. Whenever she did dare to speak in his presence, her thoughts were always whispered into Mori's ear as if he and he alone owned her voice. Mori's little doll he called her in his head, legs loosely laying on the floor he watched her unmoving gaze fix on the metal legs of the desk before you.

"Are you hungry, Dove." Mori asked, breaking the overwhelming silence of the office space.

Dazai had never known her true name as Mori tended to prefer little terms of endearment when addressing her. She never entered his life enough for him to do any more digging, he thought of her more as part of the furniture than a real person.

He watched now, however, as her eyes widened slightly at the question. Slowly, she turned her head, looking up at the man who's legs she had been leaning her back against for the past few hours. Mori looked down at her, eyes almost soft as she nodded slowly.

"Use your words, Pet."

It had been a year and a half since Dazai had begun his work in Mori's clinic. In all that time, he had never once really payed the girl any mind. Today something was different, he couldn't tell why. He watched, captivated by curiosity, as she slowly pulled herself to her feet. Bending perfectly at the waist, a hand obscuring her mouth from his watchful eyes, she whispered something in his ear.

"Curry?" Mori repeated, turning to face her as she nodded. A sickly sweet smile spread across his face, "No my dear, I'm afraid that would be much too much for you. Dazai?"

"Yes?" Dazai responded, trying his best to pretend he hadn't been watching the whole interaction out of the corner of his eye.

"Would you go get the onigiri on the counter in the back for me? This little one is hungry."

The girl's cheeks were slightly flushed as Dazai turned his gaze to her, her head turned away slightly in embarrassment. 

"Yes Boss." Dazai responded curtly before exiting the room.

As he carried out the task, he wondered about that embarrassment. He could tell when he flustered people because of something like his looks or charms, it was honestly a game he liked to play. It was entertaining to watch people squirm in their skins, hoping to please him. The girl's embarrassment however, had always appeared different.

It wasn't the first time he had done something like this, had been asked to fetch her a snack or a glass of water, and she always had the same reaction. Dazai couldn't help but wonder if it was her own admittance of need, the betrayal of her humanity, the proof that she was not in fact made of porcelain china, that flustered her so.

When he returned to the room, onigiri in hand, he moved to give them to Mori as always. His mentor was always so insistent that anything she received, she received from no one but himself. Today, he barley looked up from the paperwork he was filling out.

"You can give them to her." he said, nodding his head in the general direction of the seat she had reoccupied by his feet.

Dazai sighed, walking around the desk to where she sat and crouched down so that they were at eye level.

"Here." he said, holding them out to her.

The girl looked anxiously between her master and the boy before her. Frozen in indecision, waiting for an answer, he could easily see her panic. It was the first sign of emotion she had ever shown in his presence.

"Take them, Pet." Mori at last commanded and she quickly obliged.

Her skin was soft and cool to the touch as her small hands brushed against his own, procuring their meal.

"What do we say?" Mori said, not looking up from his work.

The girl turned to face Dazai once more.

"Thank you." she said, bowing her head slightly.

Her voice was as smooth as her skin, calm and quiet. Exactly what he had thought it would sound like based on her appearance.

"Good girl." Mori said and Dazai got to his feet.

Hands in his pockets, he returned himself to his work but couldn't seem to settle his mind, couldn't fix it to the task before him. He knew Mori could sense his distraction, Dazai could feel his eyes burning into the back of his neck.

It was only the beginning.