[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...
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In an alternate universe, a phone call from work would get Dazai Osamu to speed off his current location in a heroic urgency to fulfil his duties.
Apparently, you've fallen into one.
No time was granted to process the sentiments shared on that very peculiar morning.
Primarily because your head was on the verge of popping off thanks to all the wonderful topics covered. Yet, the moment you felt closest to Dazai was... unfortunately, a fraction of a second.
A thought occurred to you then.
Perhaps, Dazai was surprised by his willingness for vulnerability and used work as an excuse to retreat.
Or perhaps, he wished to give you time to consider the situation peacefully— after ruffling all your feathers.
They're both speculations anyone would expect from an empathic human.
Even though Dazai fashioned himself after his ability in personality and lifestyle, a feeling beseeched you to acknowledge his humanity.
A sigh was heaved out of your lips as it was usually practiced every morning before the agency's door. Your eyes burned through the opaque glass on the wood as you willed yourself to take the next step.
Nothing bothered you more than confrontation.
Worse, confrontation as (L/N) (Y/N) and not one of your endless, manufactured personalities.
However, for many years, you've been stagnant in one spot.
Doing whatever you could to keep yourself alive and blend seamlessly into society.
When that didn't work, (L/N) (Y/N) became a ghost.
Someone without any records or proof of existence.
You wished to breathe until the day you didn't.
To leave the world just as you arrived. With no ceremony or reception.
Oh, how things have changed since.
It's baffling what a couple of months can do when you work in broad daylight, in your own skin, with a number of individuals who know and see you as (L/N) (Y/N).
Whether you wish to resume this honest life or not depended on what you'll say beyond this door. Thus, brushing away any doubts plaguing your decision, the door creaked open.
"Oh my god! I can't believe I actually missed you!"
"I can't either."
All of the previous thinking didn't prepare you for this, though.
Naomi.
"Why were you, out of all our agents, in a 2-days long examination?" Naomi's interrogation began at once, her eyes squinted with judgement.
"Lo and behold: the most essential agent of the Armed Detective Agency," came the reply as you hung your coat on a rack.
Couldn't she at least let you pass through the entrance first?
The teen blew out a breath, obviously not catching the sarcasm, "most essential agent, my sweet butt."
"You should stop using that line," you advised, walking towards Naomi's haughty form. "Your sweet butt isn't big enough to handle the pressure."
With a dramatic gasp, Naomi turned to her brother who was seated on one of those green sofas with a gaming console, "Nee-san, tell her that my butt is big enough!"
Tanizaki's console performed a trapeze act on his hands, as a result of the startled being's jerk. "Uhhh, ahem..." he nervously started but lit up at the sight of the newest, official agent, "good morning, (L/N)-san!"
Meanwhile, Naomi glued herself to the boy and filled their background noise with her infamous track: 'Naomi's Mumbled Naggings'; but neither, Tanizaki nor you heeded to it as you smiled brightly to the proper greeting.
"Oh and congratulations!" the orange-haired boy added, his hand smacking wandering hands on his body.
"Touch it! Touch it now and tell her!" Naomi whined, still on the butt case.
"Thanks! Is Fukuzawa-san in his office?" You asked, still assuming a normal conversation with a boy currently being assaulted.
Tanizaki was in the process of nodding when his sister's attention-seeking and jealousy got, literally, out of hand. The poor boy finally turned to her with all hues of red boiling over his face.
"Ah, I didn't need to see this first thing in the morning," you mumbled, turning away from the siblings inappropriate engagement and walking further through the shadowed corridor to the light of a chaotic setting.
- On the tip of his finger, Kenji held a desk with an airy smile blasted on his freckled face.
- Kyoka sipped from a ceramic, steaming cup in a maid costume while enjoying the view atop the lifted desk.
- A butt was wiggling around beneath the desk, probably searching. The butt you most definitely knew to belong to Atsushi.
- Ranpo snoozed on his desk with his hat tipped on his eyes and two, colourful gummy snakes seemed to be sticking out of his nostrils.
- Yosano was occupied looking at a hand-mirror and applying a clean coat of lipstick with the wide side of a scalpel.
- Kunikida typed away so ferociously you were surprised the keyboard wasn't catching fire. With ominous aura about him, you could tell the agency was in for a wicked scolding once he's done.
And you didn't wish to see or be a part of it.
Without a single word uttered to this well-orchestrated catastrophe, you hid your face with a cupped hand and stealthed to the leader's office.
Once the door was gently shut, you turned to meet the dooming gaze of metallic blue eyes.
"So you've finally decided," the deep voice, you've labelled as an audio of comfort, sounded.
"I have," you breathed out the reply, feeling oddly safe in the serenity of the small space.
Even though it was the lair of a wolf.
Fukuzawa's icy blues fluttered shut as his hands dipped into the yukata, "I confess: I thought you wouldn't be daring enough to do it here. Not with my agents at my beck and call."
Stepping into the room, you stood before the mahogany desk with folded arms, "got to surprise you every now and then... so here we goes."
