ephemeral |o. dazai|

XI

The two chattered nonchalantly and the the bitter cold of the night was an afterthought for both of them as they strolled back to the dorms. Dazai knew he needn't worry about [Name], she was capable on her own, yet he couldn't help but think that she should have been more shaken up by the incident that just occurred.

"What?" [Name] asked, interrupting herself once she noticed his stare.

"Nothing, it's just you seem...fine," he shifted, pulling out his keys, "shouldn't you be more...worried? You just killed a person, you know, and the agency isn't like the mafia."

"Worrying won't help in this situation, will it? We just need to hope they buy the excuse."

"We'll just have to see tomorrow." He noticed [Name] hesitating at the door of the apartment. "Is something wrong?"

"My apartment is probably fine by now, right? Shouldn't I go back?"

Dazai blinked. She was right, it would probably be fine for her to go home. "Is that what you want to do?" He tried not to sound dejected.

[Name] shifted. "No," her response was barely audible, "but I don't want to—"

"—To bother me? Over-step boundaries, perhaps?" Dazai finished with a teasing grin. "You worry too much, dear [Name]! If I didn't want you here, you wouldn't be here!" His sentence was punctuated with a small chuckle and a friendly smile. "Don't overthink things, my dear."

"R-right." Satisfied, Dazai turned around, kicked off his shoes, and haphazardly flopped onto the sofa face first, earning a small scoff from the woman behind him.

The next day rolled in and Dazai couldn't help but be interested in how things were going to turn out. Both he and [Name] told the president and Yosano what happened, gave enough detail for it to be real, but not enough to seem like they were lying or overcompensating, and the two seemed to get away with it.

"We should celebrate, you know."

[Name] looked up from her computer at Dazai with a grin. "And by celebrate you mean get absolutely plastered?"

"Why, of course!"

"At times like this, I wish I stayed in contact with Chuuya more."

"Why?" Dazai's quick response gave away his bitterness upon hearing the name of the mafia executive and [Name]'s small smirk gave away her amusement.

"Well, he was certainly fun to get drunk with; I wonder how he is." Dazai turned away with a pout, this was meant to be about him and [Name], why did she have to go and bring up Chuuya for?

"Well, it's a shame you didn't keep in contact with him," he grumbled bitterly. Before either of them could say anything, Kunikida began chiding them for the ruckus they were causing.

Evening came by, the setting sun dying the concrete buildings wonderful hues of orange and red as the two detectives made their way to a nondescript bar in the middle of the city. It was well-kept and not overcrowded. The two started off drinking moderately, reminiscing happily before the two began slipping, becoming drunker and drunker as it got darker outside. Dazai rested his head on the counter, feeling [Name] play with the messy strands of his hair absently. "This is nice," she murmured with a slight slur, "the stars are out."

"Are they?"

She hummed the affirmative. "They're really pretty, but do you know what would make this better?" [Name]'s words were laced with mischief.

"If you say Chuuya—"

"Chuuya!"

Dazai sat up and looked at [Name], half impressed, half disappointed that he didn't noticed beforehand. "You've already called him over, havent you?"