We Of Me by Suzanne Vega

My squeezed heart divides
Into two wide wings
The world is
A sudden place
If you don't
Belong to anything

Noah may have got it wrong
There's one more
That could belong

This must be the
Irony of Fate
That I and the world
Are always separate

All other people
Have a we to claim
Except for me
And my own name

It was a Friday night, and everyone in the Armed Detective Agency was getting ready to close up for the weekend when the Yokohama police force called for their immediate aid in the investigation of a series of atrocious murders that had terrified their city for the last month.

The victims were healthy young adults, and it was suspected that there was an ability-user involved in the killings, as it seemed like the victims' organs were being harvested without the use of surgical equipment. They were all simply stripped of vital organs with no sign of trauma on their bodies. The police had some intel that the organs were being sold on the black marked and had traced them back to the Yokohama port, likely getting ready for shipment overseas to the Philippines.

In this particular case, Dazai had been specially requested, to Ranpo's clear dismay. But Dazai wasn't officially off his sick leave yet. He still had a heavy limp and limited movement in his back and needed a crutch to get around. But, he was being quite evident that he had worked through worse injuries than this 'silly little thing'.

No one doubted that, but in the ADA, that wasn't the case. Fukuzawa was very strict about the full recovery of any kind of injury before sending someone back out for fieldwork again. Maybe especially when Dazai was concerned since he was the only member of the ADA that Yosano had no way of performing a 'quick fix' on, had any sort of super-human strength or any kind of healing ability.

But, as they all knew by now, Dazai was stubborn as a jackass, and had a much darker past in the Port Mafia (not to mention all he'd been through before that), so when he made such a claim, there really was no arguing with him considering the severity and urgency of the assignment they had been asked to help with.

Fukuzawa hesitantly let Dazai off his strickly desk-only duty. If it hadn't been for the very real possibility that this maniac ability-user could potentially steal any of his subordinate's organs- if not for Dazai's nullifying ability, and for Yosano's clear memo that there was no way her ability could fix a completely missing organ- Fukuzawa would never have permitted Dazai to partake in such a dangerous investigation. Problem was, at this point, there seemed to be no other choice.

Not while there was no time to lose as the culprits were working quickly and rigorously, maybe leaving several new victims for them to find, while they got details of their suspected hideout over the phone.

The police force had laid it all out and ready for them to apprehend the suspects beforehand, as was demanded from the ADA's president for lending them the agency's help, mostly for the security of Dazai's reduced health.

And, as it turned out, Dazai's help had been more than effective. His ability had come as a surprise for the two attackers- one had the ability to paralyze and one had the ability to extract organs, and they both had been caught off guard by Dazai, and stood stupidly, watching their hands in disbelief until they were defused by Kunikida's note-book-made stun gun and apprehended by the police.

A job well done and nothing too challenging.

Kunikida was ushering the men away with the police, when he heard a faint sound of barking coming closer to where the not-so-much-a-fight-as-a-total-wipe-out, had gone down.

'Damnit,' he thought begrudged. 'Just what we need.'

The dog was approaching rapidly, snarling and barking viciously with saliva frotting around its mouth. Kunikida quickly wrote a note in his book and retrieved the dart gun with a mild tranquilizer from the page. He turned around to take aim, when he realized that Dazai was standing in the crossfire, frozen in place.

"Get away, you mummified dumbass!" he yelled angrily, but not as much as a twitch was seen from his partner. Before Kunikida could move away to get a clear shot, the dog attacked Dazai without hesitation and quickly locked its jaw around Dazai's right arm.

Dazai's mind was completely blank. The pure panic of the approaching hound paralyzed him. His brain was telling him to get away as fast as humanly possible and let the others take care of it, but his body wouldn't comply. It felt like the ground swallowed his legs as the dog came closer. Dazai closed his eyes before he felt the sharp pain in his arm.

Dazai knew that the human brain often shut off to protect itself from a traumatic situation, but this was really not the time for that. He needed to stay awake and aware and get away. Needed to get this fucking mutt off of him, but it was too late. His mind had already fled, abandoning him in a very vulnerable state.

That piece of shit traitor.

He had been good. He had been so good. Done everything they told him to do. Spoken when told to speak, shut up when told to shut up. Fucking barked when told to bark.

But, even a monster like him, must be allowed to have his limits.

Because kill when told to kill... no, he couldn't do that. How could they expect him to kill an innocent and defenseless animal?

The dog was caged and looked so defeated. Given up on, abused, tired and starving, just like himself. They could just as well have told him to shatter his own reflection- because that was what this dog was.

Him.

Dazai peeked warily inside of the room where the cage was placed. One uncovered eye scanned it carefully as one uninjured arm leaned on the doorframe so his feet wouldn't give out from the trembling anticipation of nothing good. The room had a cold feel to it, something wrong and final, and Dazai knew that there was no coming back from it if he entered. Not that he really had a choice, because he was his. Master Mori's tangled puppet and Mori was the only one that could untangle the knots in his threads.

Or maybe he was the one who had twisted them into this confusing mess in the first place.

"I don't think..." Dazai started to say weakly but quieted himself when he felt a harsh nudge on his shoulder. He looked back and up to see Mori's airy grin curve into something unsound and unreadable.

"You don't think what?" Mori sneered briskly. Dazai felt perturbed by Mori's irrational behavior. In a fracture of a second, Dazai's legs decided to flee, even if the rest of his body screamed for him to not make this any worse for himself. The suddenness of his getaway made Mori lose his grip on his frail shoulder, and Dazai bolted for the door.

It was locked from the outside with no way of opening it without a keycard. Dazai frantically looked around the room, noting that Mori was still standing calmly, if not a little agitated, in the same place, observing him as he tried to make his escape.

They were in the basement, and the only other way out except for the door, was through the air ventilation (which would take way too long), or the narrow windows, far up on the wall.

There wasn't actually a way of opening the windows, nor was it to get up to the air vents. Dazai quickly analyzed his surroundings for anything heavy that might help him break the window. His eyes trailed the counters that aligned the walls on two sides of the room. They were all empty, but the drawers might hide some potential weapons.

Dazai advanced for the closest one and dragged it open. Only then, Mori made a move. The first useable thing Dazai could get his hands on was a flashlight. It was heavy. It would maybe be enough to...

Dazai flung it blindly behind him when Mori lay a hand on his back, and felt a mixture of relief and horror when it connected with his master's head. Rough arms tried to hold him back, but something shifted inside of Dazai's mind and a strength he had no idea he possessed tore his arm out of Mori's grip. He hit Mori again, and again, once more, and one final time before Mori collapsed to the floor.

Panting and blinking in disbelief, Dazai quickly searched Mori's pockets for the keycard but came out empty handed.

Damnit, there's no time for this!

He weighed the flashlight in hand before throwing it at the window. It cracked, just a little. Dazai retrieved the flashlight and climbed on top of the counter. Furiously, he slammed the flashlight repeatedly into the glass until it shattered and pieces of glass fell over him like heavy rain. His hand was slashed open on the sharp points where he had been able to breach through, but there was no time to waste on such a stupid little thing.

His broken shoulder complained miserably when he forced it to help him climb through the window, shards ripping his clothes and cutting into his skin while he pulled himself up. Almost through, something mercilessly grabbed his leg and started dragging him back, but he desperately kicked until in let go. The second the hold of his leg eased, Dazai slipped through on the other side.

Dazai hesitated for a moment. He knew there was no way back from this. No way for him to ever make it right, but it was already too late.

'Oh God no,' he had kicked the Master. He had kicked and hit him and made him mad and now he was going to get punished and he wouldn't be allowed to get the sight on his left eye back for yet another month and it would mean more broken bones and experimental procedures and... and...

'Shit, he had acted on a stupid impulse and now he had gone and wrecked everything...'

Hasty, he tried to place where he was and saw that he had come out in the backyard. The starteling realization dawned upon him, that he had gotten out of the mansion, but there was no way he was going to be able to get over the barbwire fence that surrounded it.

With no other words to express it, he became aware that he was truly and utterly fucked.

Stumbling down the small hill between Kouyou's flowerbeds, he hobbled towards the gazebo and huddled down behind it, drawing his sore knees to his chest, resting his injured arm in his lap and nuzzled his face in the arm he left on top of his knees.

The pain from his cuts was starting to register on his body as the adrenaline wore off.

'Excellent camouflage, stupid- no one will ever find you here,' he ridiculed himself, but was unable to move from his less than efficient hiding place. His breathing was too quick and before doing anything else, he needed to calm down. An involuntary sob left his throat.

"Hey kiddo, you alright there?"

Dazai startled and pressed his back against the gazebo as his head snapped up towards the sound.

It was a young man, still a couple of years older than himself. He was tall, had auburn hair with beard stubbles on his cheek and grey eyes that looked curiously and intentive at Dazai with a mix of confusion and concern.

Dazai couldn't remember ever seeing him around the house before and his tan coat didn't fit in with the black ones usually worn by the members of the Port Mafia. That didn't mean he could be trusted though. Or maybe it meant he definitely couldn't trust him.

He didn't even know. He didn't know anything anymore.

"You okay? You looked a little distraught over here," the man smiled reassuringly and crouched down in front of him as his arm moved from his side and proceeded towards Dazai.

Dazai quickly braced himself for punishment but was surprised when instead of a jab, his rowdy bangs were gently brushed away from his face.

With weary eyes, Dazai peeked upon the man, while his apprehensive body language showed that he was still very much guarded.

"You're bleeding," the man noted. It made Dazai retract his gaze and bury his face back in his knees, as well as hiding his other hand in his lap.

"My name is Sakunosuke Oda. Most people simply call me Oda, it's nice to meet you."

His soft voice didn't waver, and Dazai could hear him smiling. It was unnerving. The only person who ever smiled at Dazai was Mori. A twisted, plastered-on and stiff smile. This one seemed… genuine?

Could that really be, in this house of horror?

He decided not to say anything yet, just to be safe.

Oda chuckled mildly. "I'm new. I just got hired. You don't have to be shy."

A familiar voice was heard, closing in on them. It was yelling his name in an indecipherable tone. Dazai curled more tightly in on himself.

"Is that you- Dazai?" Oda asked, and looked towards where the voice was coming from.

"You probably shouldn't be seen with me," Dazai croaked, peering back up. He couldn't help his slightly protruding and wobbling bottom lip. "You might get in trouble."

Oda looked at him with keening eyes, before getting back to his feet. Mori turned the corner to the gazebo and almost ran right into the taller man.

"Oh," Mori exclaimed and mustered up a half-hearted smile. "Sakunosuke Oda. How nice to see you again." He had a small bump on his forehead that was starting to bruise. Dazai couldn't help the single tear escaping his tear duct.

"Dr. Mori," Oda smiled. "I just had the pleasure of meeting this bright young man," he said, gesturing to the trembling boy in the grass.

"Really?" Mori scoffed. "Yes, he certainly is a bright young man. Now, if you will excuse us, we have some training to get back to," Mori's eyes hardened as he looked down at Dazai. "Come on, Osamu-kun. Recess is over."

Dazai got up on shaky knees, obediently following his mentor back to the house. He had lost. He was lost. What could he possibly ever do to redeem himself from this? He had hurt Mori and now Mori was angry, and he needed to be punished.

Looking over his shoulder one last time, he could see Oda give him a short wave, looking deep in thought while they moved further and further away from him until he finally was out of sight.

Dazai faintly registered that he was being lifted from the ground and steadied between two people. One was Kunikida, he could smell the familiar scent of his aftershave, as well as the slightly annoyed huffs that escaped his throat whenever he was vainly hiding his misplaced concern for Dazai. The other one was harder to place, but he didn't particularly care then and there- what he really wanted to know was where they were taking him.

Unsuccessfully, Dazai tried to utter a couple of words that were supposed to read as 'what's going on?', but ended up sounding more like tone-deaf humming.

A car door was opened, and he felt himself being ushered carefully into a heated car, and that 'someone' was fastening his seatbelt. The opposite car door was opened, and Kunikida climbed in next to him.

"Hey, Dazai? Can you hear me?"

'Well, duh.'

"Mmm..."

"We're going to the emergency room to get that bite looked at."

'No we're not, Yosano can handle that!'

"Na-ah, Yossnh...dndt," he trailed off. Why did he even bother? He couldn't even pry his eyes open properly.

Once again, he let the darkness engulf him, giving up on fending it off.

They continued to walk in silence until they once again entered the Port Mafia mansion. Mori closed the door behind them and stayed still with his back against Dazai.

Biting his lips in anticipation of his punishment, Dazai finally decided to speak. "Master Mori, I- I'm sor-" he got interrupted by a slap that made him fall to the floor. Another kick followed shortly after and Dazai was left there, struggling to get some air back in his lungs. Dazai braced himself for another kick, but when it never came- he hesitatingly peered his seeing eye open.

Mori was looking at him. Dazai untangled from his cradled position and sat up, all the while keeping his gaze at the floor.

"Look at me, Osamu-kun," Mori said, his voice dripping with venom.

Dazai let out a shuddering breath, forcing the tears back for the nght-time the last thirty or so minutes.

"Look at me!" The demanding tone left no room for hesitation, so Dazai snapped his head up, only to be met by a heavy thump of Mori's sole to his face. Orbs prickled in front of his eyes like snow for a moment, before his surroundings turned to black.

When Dazai came to, he was lying on a freezing cold, tiled floor. A liquid was running from his nose, and one fuzzy eye registered the blood gathering on the ground beneath him. He lifted his working arm to wipe the blood away, but it was held back by something.

Gathering himself for a couple of more seconds, he tried again. For some reason his brain wouldn't fathom that something kept his arm from reaching his face, so he tried a couple of more times until his ears perceived the rattling sound that was heard every time his hand was restrained.

"Master?" he wheezed bewilderedly, and finally gathered enough strength to sit up. He watched in confusion at his wrist. It was attached to a heavy metal bracelet with a chain that stuck to the wall.

He trailed the chain and noticed a second set, and followed it from the wall and back to his foot.

'What?' he thought, before looking around in the room, feeling a faint familiarity. That's when he noticed the cage with the dog. It was still locked. A small drop of relief rushed through his body before a small beep was heard, and the small red bulb on the cage turned green, and it started to open with an echoing buzz.

Dazai's eyes grew wide as the Kengal started to move inside, restless and aggressively motions before it bolted towards him.

The next time Dazai was slightly aware, he was laying on a bed. It wasn't a comfortable bed, and he recognized his surroundings as being the emergency room. Moans and complaints were bouncing off the walls and he frowned of the Agency's decision to bring him there. His injury needed a couple of stitches at most, and he had already had his tetanus shot. Nothing Yosano couldn't handle. This was too over the top.

His vision still hadn't cleared, so he jolted a little when an apparition came into view, and a bright light was shone in his eyes. An inaudible voice was talking to him. He wanted to tell him that he couldn't understand him and that he wanted to go home but his lips only parted and nothing more. Nothing more, until he realized the throbbing pain in his head. It was too much and his stomach quelched as the bile started to claw its way up in his throat.

"Phuuke," he was finally able to croak out, and the person, presumably a doctor, quickly helped him to his side and held a basin close to his face, holding a reassuring and strong arm on his shoulder while his body started to convulse in the process of emptying itself.

The dog wasn't as defenseless as he had thought.

Dazai tried to get away. He swiftly got to his feet and instinctively ran in the opposite direction of the Kangal. The chains yanked him violently back when they had reached their limits, and he was slammed to the ground, clawing at the floor.

The dog quickly got its hold on his foot and started to drag him back, as if it wanted to take him back to its cage and devour him there. Dazai fumbled around for something to hold on to, and grabbed the chains and started to drag himself away and kicked after the dog.

He hit the dog on its snout, and a pained yelp was heard as it let go. Dazai scanned the room and only then noticed the locked chest that was placed on the floor, a couple of feet from him.

'Of course, the Master wouldn't leave me in here to be eaten by a starving dog,' he thought. in front of the chest, lay a hairpin, and Dazai understood what this 'training' was supposed to be. He needed to break into the chest to get a weapon to defend himself. He briefly contemplated to just use the chest to beat the dog to death, but unfortunately, that as well was chained, restricting it tightly to the floor.

While the dog was still somewhat immobilized, he crawled towards it and picked up the hairpin. The rapid movements triggered the dog, and again, Dazai could feel the vicious teeth piercing through the skin on his upper thigh. Furious and desperate scratching was tearing at his pant legs, but he couldn't let himself be distracted. The art of picking a lock with so few tools was-

'Oh, oh no.' He wasn't even able to reach the chest. It was too far away.

"No, no, no, no!" he gasped and turned around to kick the dog again. He missed, and the dog grabbed his arm instead, shaking its head as Dazai felt the blood run down his arm.

Dazai still held the hairpin in a death grip, and without a second of hesitation, he stuck it into the dog's eye, making it winch and once again back away.

He felt horrible. He hated Mori for making him do this. He hated himself for doing it. Where was his death wish now? What made his life any more valuable than this dog?

Unfortunately, he had never seen a dog being used to anything besides training in the Port Mafia, and if he didn't do this... well, he already knew what was going to happen to the poor mutt.

It was him or it, or, him and it.

With a frown, he started to examine his cuffs. So that's what he was actually supposed to break out of, wasn't it?

As the dog charged towards him, he decided to block it out. He was going to unlock the cuffs and get the weapon, making the dogs death as swift and painless as possible.

Ignoring the pain of the dog's desperate attacks, he started the tedious task of picking the lock on his wrist. It had been so much easier if he wasn't bleeding from both of his palms and his freaking shoulder hadn't been overly strained on his ingenious escape attempt.

Served him right for being such an ungrateful little brat.

With a small click, he felt the first lock give out, and he quickly shook it off, deliberately ignoring the sneaking suspicion that the dog had taken an actual bite of his thigh. Wasting no time, he continued to work on his leg. This was easier, as he was finally able to use his dominant and slightly less injured left to guide the pin. Another click and before checking if it had opened, he threw himself towards the chest, again, agitating the dog.

His heart was pounding in his chest when he poked the pin inside the lock, looking for the magic spot that would make him able to turn it around. He was forced to flinch and hit the dog away as it suddenly bit the side of his face, probably ripping half his ear off as well as all of the bandaging, exposing his sensitive temporarily blind eye to the dim light in the room. A sharp pain shot through his eye and head, but he chose to ignore that too. Instead, he closed it (as far as he knew, at least), and continued with the task on hand.

Finally, after way too long, the lock gave out. Trembling fingers fumbled to open the lid.

The sight in front of him kicked away the last fight that was left in him. He had anticipated a gun or at least a hunting knife. A fucking hammer would have been better than this.

Inside of the box that he had spent the last (he didn't even know put probably at least an) hour to break into, laid nothing more than a puny and dull butter knife.

Whatever was going on around Dazai, he didn't understand. People were rushing around him and he couldn't seem to break out of his sluggish state.

Hah, he thought. Maybe I should be the slug. I'll start to call Chuuya mackerel. Squirmy little slimeball... Shitting everywhere even after it's dead.

He suddenly felt a little offended that his ex-partner would call him that. It wasn't very nice.

Aha, he trailed off again. He needed to concentrate and try to figure out what was going on. After a quick assessment of himself, he knew he had that dog bite on his arm which was probably stitched up while he was out. The headache, nausea and general fogginess, could be the result of a concussion if he hit his head when he fell, which, could prove serious this time. He knows he's been concussed more often than what is healthy, and the last time wasn't too long ago. That might be it.

"...rab..s...st." The muffled words were hard to comprehend. Someone was trying to tell him something. He squinted his eyes to clear his view and was slightly successful, watching the lips on the nurse talking to him intently.

'R..rabies shot?' the lips seemed to spell out.

...Oh. Okay.

Yeah. This might be bad.

The furry body laid, finally unmoving, in a bloodied pile. A few feet in front, with his back turned away from it, sat Dazai in his own pool of blood.

His body was covered in bites and scratches. Most noticeably, his face had several bleeding wounds everywhere. His inner thigh had a deep chunk bitten out of it.

He sobbed quietly, holding the small butter knife in a tight grip. The taste of bile was in his mouth, and he could only shift slightly before he retched and started to throw up all over the floor and himself.

As soon as his stomach had settled, he scooted away from the vomit and further from the cadaver before he hurled the knife with all the force that was left in his broken body to the wall. It chimed sharply as it bounced off it and landed somewhere behind him.

The sobbing was less quiet now, but he didn't care. He wanted to scream until his voice gave out. Wanted to shout and curse and cry and laugh and... die. He just wanted it to be over.

If only Master Mori would come back and let him out soon. See how good he had done. Maybe then... it wouldn't be so bad after all? Mori always praised him when doing good, and he had, hadn't he?

He'd been sitting there for several hours, but Mori still hadn't let him out. Must have been another punishment from his stupid stunt from before.

The floor was cold and his entire body was covered in goosebumps- blood, gore, and goosebumps. Closing his eyes, he allowed himself to travel to his happy place.

It was in the garden, except, the mansion wasn't there. He imagined that it had burned down to the ground with everyone in the Port Mafia still in it. He had locked the doors himself.
It was just him and Chuuya, teasing each other, laughing and playing soccer. How long had it been since they had been allowed to play together? Probably more than a year. They were still talking, studying together sometimes, but, they were never able to actually enjoy themselves anymore.

To his surprise, a tan coat appeared in the picture. Auburn hair waving peacefully in the refreshing wind, smiling reassuringly at them with his hands in his pockets.

The door to the cool, tiled room creaked, and Dazai lolled his head, too weak to actually hold it up properly. He was queezy still, and he felt dizzy and unwell.

The door opened all the way, and a familiar face appeared in the opening. A small streak of light shone on the battered face of the young teenager who sat, cradling himself on the floor.

Dazai's worried face peered in its direction as Mori entered the room. A twitchy but relieved smile became visible on the teens face in recognition, and Mori smiled back. Something seemed off though.

Something different and wrong in Mori's eyes.

Regret? Maybe even sorrow?
Dazai's faint smile morphed into a scream, as another dog was released into the room.

The next few hours went by in a daze. He faintly registered being moved around to different rooms, spoken to and injected. There were countless blood samples. All the while he drifted in and out of consciousness. Bandages came off and on his arm several times, different hands probing and poking around. The only word he tried to be alert of, was 'rabies'.

How many times had he daydreamed about his death? And actively pursued it? Not in his wildest dreams had he imagined that it would come from a potentially incurable disease. Maybe least of all rabies.

Pneumonia? Maybe. After a failed late autumn or winter drowning session. From the cold or liquid in the lungs. Perhaps something related to sepsis, from untreated wounds. He couldn't write that one off yet, he supposed.

He remembered the comforting sound of his deceased best friend's last words.

"You'll be lost, wandering in the darkness for eternity. Join the other side and save people. If the two truly are the same, become a decent man. Fight for the weak. Protect the children who have lost their parents. You may think justice and evil are two sides of the same coin. But that way, you'll be on the side that's slightly more admirable."

The irony of it all wasn't lost on Dazai. He had spent the past years, doing everything he could to find meaning. A purpose to live for. In a way, those words were it, and still, he pursued his release in death.

After everything that went down those months ago, where he had faced off with his demons in a more literal sense than most, he'd have this strange thought that he might actually be able to fill that large gaping all-consuming void inside of him. And now, after everything... Was it all just going to end like this? If he was going to be offed by a fucking dog, he could just as well have stayed with Mori in the mafia.

Why would he feel like he had any right to be bitter?

He had done it. He was done. This had to be it. Sure, he had messed up, really, really bad, but if Master didn't want him dead, he had to come back now, because, he knew there wasn't much time.

The blood on the floor belonged to no more than three creatures. Two dogs and himself. The three of them.

'Where I belong. Like a fucked up little family. The two of you makes the we of me.'

He looked at his hands, stained in blood and somehow, he knew he needed to get used to it. Knew that it wouldn't be the last time.

Maybe these were the same exact blood covered hands he saw, trying and failing to do good, even ten years later?

He had never been able to wash it away.

The lock on the door finally clicked. Dazai flinched. Small shaky hands held out the crimson stained butter knife, ready to provide a quick and as painless as a possible end to whatever poor soul that was about to be released into his solitude.

But no one came. No dog, no Mori, no Chuuya, no Oda.

Tryingly, he placed his feet under him to stand up, but it proved fruitless. Instead, he fell on his stomach on the floor, making blood splash around him like puddles on a rainy day. Only then did Mori appear in the doorway.

He didn't smile, but he didn't look upset either. Still, there was something in his eyes that told Dazai that this probably pained him none the less.

"I'm sorry," Dazai uttered in an unstable voice, involuntarily sobbing at the sight of his one and only protector.

Mori's face softened as he looked around in the room, the two carcasses and the third one, himself, that didn't look much better.

"I'm sorry," Dazai repeated. "I'm sorry m'sorry m'sorry m'sorry!"

Calmly, Mori walked towards him. Gentle hands lifted him up, cradling him in his arms. Dazai grabbed weakly at his shirt, leaving a bloodied handprint as he started to cry uncontrollably and hard and big wet tears, washing red off his own face and leaving pink trails down his cheeks and onto his master's shirt.

"Shh," Mori cooed. "It's okay. You did good, chibi."

Dazai closed his eyes by the reassuring words. He decided from that day forward, he would never oppose to Mori again. Never question him, never do anything to hurt him like he had -stupid little shit- never again!

"I'm proud of you."

"Mr. Dazai?"

'Noo... sleepytime.'

"Mr. Dazai?"

'Please... just let the dead man stay dead.'

"He's not waking up."

'Jeeze Louise, fine...'

"Mr. Dazai?"

"I said fine!" Dazai flinched at the intruding light that assaulted his corneas as his eyes flew wide open.

"Ow..." he muttered, covering his face with his one obeying arm.

"Oh, Mr. Dazai. You're finally awake." A young and pretty nurse was standing over him, smiling. A stolen look at her, made him change his tone drastically.

"Let me bite you," he said feverish and dreamilngly, not bothering to add the 'and infecting you with rabies so we can die together' part. He knew he was strange, but that would be a little excessive even for him.

The nurse giggled nervously and retracted her hand, that magically had appeared in his own. "I'll let the doctor know you're awake," she said, not being able to exit the room quick enough.

"Nice one, knucklehead," came a familiar voice, on the opposite side of the room. Kunikida.

"Ah," Dazai singsonged. "So you've come to witness my descent into madness too!"

Kunikida looked stupidly at him, before sighing heavily. "If this is about the suspicions of the dog being infected with the rabies virus, then yes, it was. But we got you here quickly, so they have it under control."

Dazai couldn't help it as the wave of relief washed over him. Apparently, that was evident, as a crooked smile came to show on Kunikida's face.

"So no, I'm afraid that this isn't your ticket out of your desk duty either."

Dazai frowned. "You're mean."

"And you're severely concussed, idiot. We should have made you wear a helmet."

Hatred burned behind Dazai's half-lidded eyes. "Fine... desk duty it is, then."

In the next weeks at the Port Mafia infirmary, Dazai was bedridden and strictly forbidden to go outside. Not that he could if he wanted to. The bloodloss he had suffered during the fight had made him sick and dizzy and left him with numeral soft-tissue infections, lacerations and crush injuries, as well as damages to his tendons, ligaments, and bones.

On the bright side, Mori had let Chuuya visit. Dazai never told him what had happened, but Dazai being bandaged and confined to a bed wasn't anything new. Instead, they talked, a lot, did some reading and played card games. Chuuya always won those, even how much Dazai cheated. That was the good thing about being bandaged all the time. It was an excellent hiding spot for extra cards.

At the end of his third week on bed rest, Mori finally agreed to let him sit outside for a while. He couldn't walk, so he had to be carried. He was left in the gazebo, huddled up in blankets with a book of fiction (for once), enjoying the sweet autumn breeze.

That's when he recognized the tan coat. Oda was walking casually towards him, getting an iffy look on his face as he came closer and saw what sorry state he was in.

"Hey there, champ. What happened to you?"

Dazai shyly averted his gaze. He didn't want to tell him. It was embarrassing. "Nothing," he decided on.

Oda nodded, deciding to leave it alone. "What are you reading?"

Dazai looked at the cover of the book he had rested in his lap, grabbing it and holding it up for Oda to see.

"Odyssey? That's an interesting choice."

Shrugging, Dazai placed the book back in his lap and huddled further under the blanket. "T'was a gift," he said silently, with a sad smile. Oda returned it.

"Mind if I sit?"

Dazai looked wide-eyed on him as if it was unthinkable that anyone could stand his company unless they absolutely had to.

"Maybe I could read for you. Can't be easy to read with only one eye."

Dazai gave him a faint nod, feeling his blanket shift as Oda sat down beside him on the bench and picked up the book, flipping the pages until he found the mark and resting his arm on the back of the bench. He began reading.

Listening intently, Dazai was almost more fascinated by the sound of the man's voice than the story. It was so kind. Almost without realizing it, Dazai leaned further in. After only a couple of minutes, he was resting his head on Oda's side, feeling the vibration in his chest as he read.

That's how Dazai fell asleep. Content, snug and... okay.

For the first time, in a long time, he felt reassured. He dared to believe that everything might just turn out fine in the end.

Little did he know that it was in that exact moment a bond was tied between the two. A bond that would remain strong through thick and thin, life and death. At that exact moment, he had gained his biggest supporter. A protector. A guardian angel. A friend.

It didn't turn out fine in the end. Not for him, and least of all not for Oda, or the orphans.

Dazai had let his mind travel back in time to that precious moment in the gazebo, many, many times later in life. It was his new happy-place, strictly reserved for enduring only the most horrific acts of torture and the last resort on those days, where all he could see was his blood stained hands. When he would be standing on top of the tallest building in Yokohama, feeling how the pavement below was calling for him.

It's the only thing that could make him re-think it. The only thing Oda ever wanted, was to keep his orphans safe. Save those kids, and he had failed.

Dazai wasn't going to fail him too.

It made him step off the ledge, every single time.