Book of One-Sh!ts

[Dazai x Atsushi] Singing, Scars, and Tattoos Meant to be Ours

It seemed like just yesterday that Atsushi joined the agency, and yet, here he was, completely comfortable in this strange environment. He fit right into the awkwardness of it all. Everyone loved him, protected him, and gave him guidance. But the person he trusted above all the rest was Dazai. It was because of this simple fact that he refused to sleep anywhere but Dazai's apartment after what happened with Port Mafia and Akutagawa. Dazai objected at first, naturally, but as the days went on and everyone at the agency kept insisting, Dazai gave in. Atsushi had bags underneath his eyes and Dazai wasn't about to let him continue to go without sleep. And so, the two began living together.

Each morning Atsushi would wake Dazai up, although it was quite difficult, and make breakfast with whatever food he could find. The two would then head to the agency together, work for their allotted time, and head back to Dazai's apartment for a repeat of the routine the next day. It became a commonplace scene for the two of them to be around each other. Atsushi began to understand why Kunikida was so annoyed with his partner, but he never grew tired of Dazai. Instead, Atsushi only became more fond of the guy. This was dangerous for him, because he was told time and time again by various sources that Dazai simply had no such taste in men.

Dazai yawned, stretched, and sat up on the futon. He glared at the sun shining in through the window and wanted desperately to return to his blissful sleep. However, the scent of food and the hunger in his stomach was far more powerful than the tiredness he felt. Dazai hobbled into the kitchen and rested his head on Atsushi's shoulder as he stared at the pan on the stove. Scrambled eggs? Since when did Atsushi learn how to make that?

"We have the day off, you can go back to sleep if you want," Atsushi reminded. Dazai didn't need to be told twice. He fell asleep right then and there whilst standing up. His light snoring on Atsushi's shoulder was making it difficult for the weretiger to cook. Agitated, he brushed Dazai off of him and the twenty-two year old male fell right to the floor, still sleeping, evidently.

"I'm amazed you have managed to take care of yourself all this time," Atsushi looked down at the sleeping Dazai, "How did you wake up in the morning? Or eat meals? If it wasn't for me going out to get food, I'm not sure you would have any."

"At-su-shi-kun," Dazai mumbled and sat up so that he could hug the weretiger's leg, "I'm hungry," he pouted.

"Hai, hai, I'm almost done," he rolled his eyes and placed the steaming eggs on the plate for Dazai. He then took the plate and placed it on the floor. Dazai, like the pet that he is, happily ate whilst still clinging to Atsushi's leg. Atsushi may be a weretiger, but Dazai is definitely a full blown cat. No one could convince him otherwise.

This was just a normal scene in the lives of Atsushi and Dazai. The older, pain in the butt male was always annoying Atsushi and causing trouble. The younger, somewhat mature child, put up with it and hid his growing feelings. Deep down, Atsushi knew that a more mature version of Dazai existed. Sometimes he wondered if the reason Dazai was such a kid was because Dazai was trying to fool people into thinking he wasn't capable of anything, so that it would lessen his workload with the agency. Whatever the reason, Atsushi wouldn't believe that Dazai was 100% a child. At least, he tried very hard not to believe it.

"Dazai-san, are you done changing yet?" Atsushi opened the bathroom door. Dazai stood with his sleeve scrunched up and his standard white bandage hanging from his mouth. He only had about one fourth of his arm covered at the moment.

Atsushi's eyes were drawn to the never ending scars upon scars.

They seemed to flow in every which direction. Dazai covered his arm with his free hand as much as he could, but he knew it was pointless since Atsushi had already seen it, so he let his hand fall and then proceeded about his business. He grabbed the bandage from his mouth and continued to wrap his arm until he was finished. Atsushi didn't say anything, so Dazai didn't either. It should've made sense to Atsushi that a suicidal maniac would've done something like that, but for some reason it still shocked him to think it was true. Was his other arm, his neck, did it all look like this arm? The very thought that Dazai hated living so much that he'd hurt himself to that extent... it overwhelmed Atsushi.