There goes a day | Dazai x m! reader

5.

Your day at the agency mostly went by quickly. A meeting with Yosano. An update on the case. Apparently, Ranpo tracked the guy down and arrested him. You had sort of wanted to be there when they were bringing him in, for some sort of twisted sense of satisfaction over it. But maybe it was for the best that you hadn't. You weren't sure how you would've reacted.

The minute the car parked in the parking lot of Dazai's apartment building, you spoke.

"Uh, my emergency contact called me back. From when I called him the other day, I mean," you said, and Dazai visibly stiffened. His fingers were tight against the faux leather of the wheel.

You squinted. Dazai had no reason to dislike your emergency contact. He didn't know anything about Mori, as far as you knew.

"Oh. What'd he say?"

"He said he would send someone to pick me up and explain everything." You fiddled with the cane that rested against your knee. "Apparently he's my boss."

"He was your boss. I'd say you're sort of solidly out of a job right now."

Dazai still hadn't looked over at you. That would've hurt, if you cared what he thought of you. But you didn't. You definitely didn't care.

(You may have cared a little bit.)

"His name is Mori," you said after a moment, and Dazai's grip somehow and for some reason tightened against the steering wheel. He was white-knuckling that stupid thing now. "I dunno, he seemed nice over the phone."

"He wanted you back in," Dazai said flatly. "That's what he does. He's nice until you're too deep in to back out. And once he sinks his fangs in, he does what he can to keep you." He looked more upset than you had seen him- which wasn't saying much, because he was usually level-headed.

Yikes. "Sounds like you've got some personal history with Mori."

"Yeah, that's one way to put it." He sighed and leaned back against the seat. "Just- as long as you didn't tell him you would come back for a little reunion or whatever, you should be fine. If anything, he understands the sunk cost fallacy well enough to know when to drop something. Some one."

"About that," you started, and he glanced over, your name passing his lips with a warning tone. "Someone named Chuuya is coming to pick me up...?"

He groaned loudly and leaned against the wheel.

"No. No. You're not going back there."

"I don't even know where 'there' is."

"The mafia," he said, tone laced with all sorts of poison. The word hit you almost as hard as the truck that had gotten you here to begin with. Mafia.

Organized crime. You had undoubtedly done terrible things in the name of your job.

(That was just the thing, though, wasn't it? Being a mafioso wasn't just a job, it was a lifestyle. One you couldn't just turn your back on. Not easily, at least.)

The very thought of yourself going out and committing all sorts of crimes made your stomach twist. (I mean, sure, you've shoplifted before, but that was Hobby Lobby. This was, like... whatever the mafia did. They killed people, right?)

(You didn't do that, though, right? You didn't kill. You wouldn't.)

Normally, him being so deathly serious would set off the alarms in your head that he wasn't serious. But something about this- when he said it, you could just sort of feel that it was right.

"Well- why do you care what I do?" you asked, and oh my god, you felt so stupid asking that, but your pride wasn't about to let you back out now.

"Are you serious?" he asked. "Oh my god. Um, maybe because we're friends? Maybe because I don't want you going back there, because Mori is a freak who will only bring bad things your way?"