𓆩 caelia 𓆪 she/her prns. welcome 2 my blog (｡>\\<) make sure to read my rules before requesting!
sfw blog. multifandom. pls refrain from sending me anything inappropriate thru my inbox such as: racism, nsfw, etc. (,,> ᴗ <,,)
i usually just write for fandoms im in or whatever i feel like, but i try my best to do others ! <3
recent:
demon prodigy, huh?
rules ꔫ masterlist
status:
💌 inbox is open! currently accepting bsd reqs ;D
୨ৎ open for moots/friends ~~ just msg me first cuz im shy hehe
demon prodigy, huh? (ada!dazai x current demon prodigy reader)
content: ada!dazai x pm!fem!reader, reader is 15 with an attitude lmaoaoao, dazai calls reader "kid" a lot, not proofread, platonic love !!!!! chuuya mentioned
a/n: hey! before you start reading, i just wanted to thank u for all da love you have given this series <3 i never expected the platonic piece i wrote about dazai would become a 10 chapter fanfic 🥹 my heart is so full of gratitude! i love u always. please enjoy reading
CHAPTER TEN
The next morning, Dazai wakes up to you, still on the couch, rubbing your eyes sleepily as you try to keep your eyes awake while focusing on a game. “Seriously, kid, you’re still playing? Quit it before I return that phone.”
“I’m winning…” You mumble sleepily, tapping away on your screen. “Besides, you said I could do anything I want as long as I don’t block your number.”
Dazai sighs, running a hand through his messy brown hair. He needed to get to work, and so did you. Even if you were just an errand girl for Kunikida and his papers. “Tsk. All the parents were right about the youth being addicted to their phones.” He grumbles, walking away and getting ready for work.
“Hey, aren’t you going to work?”
“Hm? Oh, I think I won’t make it today…I have to go somewhere.” You hum softly, and Dazai nods, going back to tend to his own tasks.
________________
It was quiet in the office. Only the sound of Kunikida’s typing and Atsushi’s printer broke the silence that threatened to deafen the entire space. “Hey, Kunikida! I’m going out, be back in…2 hours?” Dazai chirps, standing up from his chair and grabbing his tan trench coat from the coat rack.
“What— OI! DAZAI! COME BACK HERE!” Kunikida yells, breaking the solemn atmosphere of the office. “YOU CAN’T JUST LEAVE WHENEVER YOU PLEASE! YOU ARE IN THE MIDDLE OF WORK HOURS!”
Kunikida’s yelling died down as Dazai walked out of the room, shutting the door gently before exiting the building and calling a cab. The drive was quiet, the driver didn’t bother asking Dazai about his destination, seemingly too terrified to ask.
“Here should be fine.” Dazai says smoothly, the cab pulling over just a few steps away from the Port Mafia’s entrance. He exited the cab after paying the driver, walking up the grand staircase that led to the enormous doors that stood outside the building. He could see the surprised looks of the guards positioned at the entrance, exchanging glances as he walked inside.
He walked as if he still owned the place, but he was only here to pay a visit to one person. Dazai swore to himself he’d never walk into this building again, but for you? Oh, for you, he would. And he did.
The elevator dinged as he reached the top floor. The doors slid open, and there you were, standing in front of Mori’s desk, listening to him attentively as he informed you of all the missions you had missed or left uncompleted during your unannounced absences.
“Oh? I didn’t know you had a visitor coming over, child.” Mori tilts his head, looking at Dazai up and down.
“What are you talking about—” You went quiet as your gaze fell on Dazai standing at the opposite side of the room. He didn’t have that smile on his face, he didn’t lean against the wall or had his relaxed posture. His hands were thrust into his pocket, and his eyes gleamed with a dangerous certainty that his main objective here was to interfere.
“There you are,” He hums, walking over towards you.
He reaches the spot next to you, facing Mori with his gaze before putting a hand on your shoulder. “Figured you’d be here since you decided to skip work. Let’s go home, hm?”
“My, my,” Mori hummed, setting his pen down on the desk with a quiet clink. “No vanguard? No invitation? You walk into my office as if you never left, Dazai-kun.”
Dazai didn’t smile. “I’m not here for you, Mori-san,” Dazai said, his voice dropping into a flat register that echoed off the high walls. “I’m here to close a contract and take this kid out for a walk.”
Mori chuckles, throwing his head back slightly before he tilts his head, a faint, amused smirk tugging at his lips. “A contract? If you are referring to Y/N, I’m afraid you are mistaken. She is ours. She’s climbing the ranks. Abandoning her post is an act of treason, punishable by–”
“By execution. Yes. I know the rules. I wrote half of them,” Dazai interrupted. “Except you’re forgetting one small detail. As of eight o’clock this morning, Y/N has been officially registered under the protection of the Armed Detective Agency.”
Mori’s smile faltered for a fraction of a second.
Dazai puts his hand on your head, “You see, the agency holds the Skilled Business Permit,” he continues, leaning forwards slightly. “Fukuzawa-san has personally signed her provisional protection order. As a minor subjected to documented physical abuse and illegal exploitation, her status is officially classified under state asylum.”
“Is that so, Dazai-kun?”
“Yes. So, if the Port Mafia sends a single unit—be it the Black Lizard, or Akutagawa–it will no longer be treated as an internal Mafia dispute. It will be classified as an illegal assault on our agency member.”
Mori’s eyes narrowed, looking at you, almost mockingly. “You think that the Special Division will wage war against us over a single child?”
“Oh, they most certainly will if I hand him the complete paper trail of her records,” Dazai replied smoothly. He let out a low, humorless chuckle. “You created a perfect copy of me, Mori-san. Really, it’s impressive! You should be proud of yourself.”
Dazai grabbed the back of your collar and gently tugged on it, telling you to go with him. “So perfect, in fact, that she’s leaving the organization the exact same way I did. You lost this game the moment you tried to replicate a traitor.”
Dazai placed his hand firmly on your shoulder, leading you out of his office as he waved goodbye before the elevator doors closed.
________________________________
The two of you were in the bustling market once more, hiding under the shade that the awning provided. You haven’t spoken a word since you both got out of the building. Since when did the agency register you as one of their own? And how could they ever welcome someone like you?
“Hey, kid, you can talk, you know.” Dazai teases, poking your shoulder. “Your Dazai-nii is so cool, right? I was like Iknowtherules,Iwrotehalfofthemmyself—”
“I’m…in the agency now?” You ask softly, voice shaking as if you still couldn’t believe anyone else would accept you.
“Well, yeah, kind of. You still gotta do your entrance exam, and you need to do a bit of paperwork and—”
You cut Dazai off, wrapping your arms around his waist. You didn’t want to cry, not yet, at least, but you’d be lying if you said your heart wasn’t full of gratitude and relief. “Thank you.” You managed to mumble, hiding your face in his coat.
“Hey, kid, breathe.” He chuckles, placing his hand over your head. “Besides, I only did all that because Chuuya going on and on about that place agitated me. I hope he won’t miss you too much now that you’re not stepping foot there ever again.”
“Chuuya…told you about me? What did he say?” You ask curiously. You wondered what Chuuya thought of you, and what he might’ve said that pushed Dazai to do all these things.
“Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, kiddo. Come on, we gotta head back before Kunikida kills me.”
__________
It was late evening, the Agency just finished today’s work and everyone was on their way home. You and Dazai were walking back to the dormitories, you were still waiting to get your own, but for the time being, you stayed with him as your legal guardian.
Recalling events from earlier in the afternoon, you saw the papers. Legal Guardian: Osamu Dazai. It felt…different. For once, you weren’t wandering around alone, fending for yourself. You have someone now. You have Dazai. You have your older brother.
As you both walked, you heard a motorcycle engine pulling over behind, honking at the two of you. “Hey, bastards!” A familiar voice called out, and there was Chuuya. “Oi, pint-size. I heard you made quite the dramatic exit with Dazai back there.” He teases, taking off this helmet as he approaches the two of you.
“Chuuya-san…” You mumble under your breath, looking up at him as he stands in front of you.
“What, you think I wouldn’t come looking for you? You didn’t even blow anything up like Dazai did when he left.” He scoffs, drawing a laugh from Dazai’s lips.
“Ah, yes! I remember when I damaged your bike before leaving. I wish I stayed a bit longer to see your face.”
“Damaged? It was fucking destroyed, moron.” Chuuya hisses, looking back at you before ruffling your hair. “...You really really are like Dazai, huh? Leaving the mafia and all.”
You could tell by Chuuya’s voice that something was up. It wasn’t his usual, annoyed tone, not that you would know what his usual was since he always seemed to talk a lot more gently with you. “I’ll…miss you too, Chuuya-san.”
Chuuya’s blue eyes widened, and Dazai couldn’t help but giggle. “H-Hey! What’re you saying, pint-size?! I never said anything! Don’t get ahead of yourself!” He stammers, scratching the back of his neck. “But…yeah. It’s gonna take a bit of getting used to without seein’ ya around anymore. Just…be good, okay? Don’t do your crazy shit.”
“My…what?”
“FORGET IT!” Chuuya shys away, walking towards his bike and putting his helmet on. “AND DAZAI! I swear, I’ll kill you if that kid gets in trouble. You’re fully in charge of her now.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Dazai waves a hand dismissively.
____________________
The two of you entered Dazai’s small dorm, and on the couch were a bunch of clothes. “Oh, by the way, we all pitched in and got you stuff to wear when you’re back in the office.” He says smoothly, grabbing you by the shoulders and pulling your black coat off. “Don’t wear that old thing anymore.”
The heavy black coat slipped off your shoulders, falling into Dazai’s hand with a soft thud. He didn’t even look at the coat. He casually tossed it into the open trash bin by the entryway,as if it were nothing more than a piece of scrap paper. “I burned mine but, let’s save that for another day. Go on, take a look at them,” Dazai urged softly, gesturing towards the coach. “Yosano picked out most of it, so rest assured it’s actually fashionable. Though, Kunkida-san did insist on adding more corporate articles of clothing.”
You walked over to the couch, your hands reaching out to touch the fabric. There were soft sweaters, comfortable slacks, crisp shirts and fluffy cardigans—bright, clean, and completely devoid of the dark, bloody history.
“Dazai-nii…” your voice came out as a quiet breathless whisper. He was leaning against the doorway, his hands tucked into his pockets, watching you with an expression that held no malice.
“I think those clothes look good for a girl your age.” He says softly, walking over and placing a firm hand on top of your head. “I even added a bunch of fun stuff like hairclips.”
Tears finally spilled over your eyelashes, hot and fast, tracing paths down your cheeks. You haven’t cried for reasons other than fear or pain in awhile. It felt…good.
“Hey, don’t cry now. We’re supposed to get the worst convenience store ice cream we can find!” Dazai beamed, tone instantly bouncing back to its usual lively rhythm.
“Okay,” you murmured, nodding firmly. “Okay, Dazai-nii.”
Outside the window, the glittering lights of Yokohama danced across the dark bay. The city was the same as it had always been, but as you stood next to your talkative older brother, listening to his ridiculous banter, you knew, you knew it in your bones that everything had changed.
demon prodigy, huh? (ada!dazai x current demon prodigy user)
content: ada!dazai x pm!fem!reader, reader is 15 with an attitude lmaoaoao, mentions of suicide, dazai calls reader "kid" a lot, not proofread, platonic love !!!!! odasaku mentioned, chuuya mentioned
a/n: im so sorry this took me like a whole month 😭 to be honest, i had such bad writers block and i didn't want to force myself to write when i knew it wasn't to be what i wanted. :')) still fighting thru writers block rn, but i hope u will all love this chapter the same as the others <33
CHAPTER NINE
You fell asleep sometime during the drive back to the agency, and now you’re here, laying on a bed in their infirmary. You couldn’t move much, but you could see their resident doctor sitting on a desk, typing away at her computer.
You noticed that all your wounds were healed, and the bandages that wrapped around your wrist were gone, so were the scars.
“Were you trying to kill yourself out there, little girl?” The doctor asked, her voice blank as if she was just asking about the time.
“Huh…?”
“Well, it seems to me cutting your arm open didn’t work, so you went on a mission against a heavily armed group alone to end things quickly. Or does the mafia just send kids out on suicide missions nowadays?” She replies sharply, turning her gaze away from the computer and onto you. “I’m Yosano. Resident doctor of the Armed Detective Agency. Now, do tell me why you went into that warehouse alone.”
“I wasn’t…I wasn’t trying to kill myself—”
“Well, that’s good news. I can only fix wounds on your body, not your mind. Good thing you’re not like your brother.”
“My…brother?”
“Dazai,” Yosano says, tilting her head. “You know, I was surprised when Dazai said he had a little sister or something,” seeing your confused gaze, she sighs. “Don’t tell me he lied about you…”
“N-no, I’m his…little sister.” Calling Dazai your brother or Dazai-nii was one thing, but declaring it yourself that you were his little sister was a first. “Where is he…?” getting off the bed, you quickly slipped on your shoes and headed towards the door.
“Hey, kid, you gotta rest— ah, it’s no use.” Yosano sighs, going back to finishing up a few records on her computer.
The door leads you into the main office where Atsushi was seated at his desk. You recognized him. You and Akutagawa have encountered him more than once. You can see the surprise and sudden defensiveness in his gaze and his posture, he was on guard.
“Where’s Dazai?” Your voice was still hoarse from everything, and your feet still felt heavy, but you wanted to talk to Dazai.
“Oh, I believe he went to the cemetery. He said he’d go out for a stroll, but that usually means he’s just there somewhere.” Atsushi replies, his voice casual and warm, but he clearly wasn’t fond of you being in the vicinity. You didn’t question why Dazai was hanging out there, but you walked towards the door and ran out anyway.
_____________________________
You walked, no, ran through the streets of Yokohama, the cold wind of the early evening biting at your face. The injuries that have been recently healed still had a sensation, but you didn’t seem to care about that now. You tell yourself you can rest once you’re done with this.
When you reached the cemetery, you looked all over for him. After minutes of running around, you walk towards a large tree to sit next to, only to find Dazai leaning against a gravestone. S. ODA was engraved.
“Dazai…” You panted, wiping away the sheen of sweat that had formed on your skin.
“It’s Dazai-nii.” He scoffs, refusing to look at you. Maybe you were right, back in the warehouse. He hated himself so much that he refused to look at you. “I’ve been calling for days, you know? Didn’t know those things kept you busy. You used to always go back to the alleyway after work.”
“Dazai-nii, Mori said–”
“Sit.” He says blankly, scooching over to make room for you beside him. You sat down on the grass, looking at the gravestone.
“Isn’t it disrespectful to lean on some random old man’s grave?”
“Hey, watch it, demon prodigy. This isn’t some random old man,” Dazai places a hand on the stone, brushing away specks of dust and moss growing around it. “He’s the reason why I left the mafia.”
“What, did he rat you out or something? Must be a bad man if he pushed you out of the mafia.” You sigh, looking up at the evening sky.
“I told you to watch your mouth. He’s a good man,” He pauses for a few moments, looking down at the grass beneath him. “He’s a good friend too. And he didn’t push me out. It was his dying wish.”
“...What?”
“Now, I don’t tell this story just to anyone, kid, you better listen up!” His flamboyancy shot up almost like nothing happened. “Remember when you kept prying me about why I left?”
“It…never came to me naturally, Y/N. I didn’t even think about it.”
“So…why did you—”
“Shush! I’m being dramatic, argh! You ruined the dramatic flair!” Dazai waves his hand, frustrated. But as his gaze went back to the gravestone, his demeanor shifted. He wasn’t angry, nor sad, but he was quiet. “He told me that, whether I was on the side of killing or saving people, I’ll still linger in the darkness forever.”
You listened attentively, eyes never leaving his face. “That seemed…harsh.”
“It may seem that way, but then I realized that…Odasaku understood me far more than I anticipated. Those who tell me that there’s still hope for me, that salvation will get to me eventually, but they only say that because they don’t know my heart,” He pauses, putting his hand against his chest. “And as I held his body in my arms, I asked him what I should do. And now, you might disagree, but he told me that both sides were the same.”
“They…are?”
“Yes. And he told me that, since both sides are the same, I should save the weak. Help out some orphans. There isn’t much difference between the two, but doing that would be better. And, well, what a coincidence, I saved a weak orphan like you.”
“I am not weak— !”
“Yeah, yeah, because you’re a prodigy or whatever.” Dazai hums, swaying his hand dismissively. “What I’m saying is…you’re weak because the mafia isn’t a place for a kid like you. You’re weak because you’re a child thrown in the lion’s den.”
The two of you fell silent for a few minutes, letting the words linger in the air and allowing the evening breeze to carry it away. A war was waging inside of you—the side of you that stayed loyal to Mori was screaming at you to go back, leave him alone, keep your title and your power, but the side of you, the one that managed to stay soft despite the world you lived in was telling you to set yourself free.
“I was trying to pull you into the light because I wanted to save you before you reach a point of no return, kid. Not because I hated my reflection.” Dazai’s voice was soft, each word carried a sincerity he usually didn’t thread into his words.
You didn’t say anything more. It wasn’t like you could argue with him or his intentions, anyway. Slowly getting up from your spot, you dusted off the grass and dirt from your clothes and walked away with no particular destination in mind.
_______________
It was getting late, and you didn't go back to the penthouse. Somehow, you find yourself spending the night hiding out at Dazai’s dorm once more. Thankfully, he didn’t seem to be getting sick of you anytime soon, still welcoming you into his home.
You sat on his couch, watching some nonsensical advertisement on the television, bright colors beaming from the screen changing the hue of the room. Dazai averted his gaze from the TV and onto you, “How long are you gonna hide out here for?” He hums blankly.
“I’ll go home first thing tomorrow morning.” You mumbled quickly, not wanting to bother him. “I just needed to be away from the property. I hope that’s okay with you.”
“Kid, you could stay here as long as you like, I really don’t care…” He sighs, shifting his gaze back to the screen. “You’re quitting, aren’t you?”
The question hung in the air longer than it should. Were you quitting? You didn’t even know yourself. “What makes you say that?”
Dazai chuckles from across the couch. “Well, this is exactly how I quit, too. You’re just like me, you know. Hiding out, abandoning your duties for days, which, I know you’ll do…It’s exactly how I left the Port Mafia and got branded as a traitor.”
A traitor. The words lingered in your mind. You wondered whether, if you went back, would they accept you and keep you on your throne or would they come for your head? It was a scary thought. You couldn’t go back, but you weren’t sure if you could stay either. “Did you ever go back after you stopped showing up for a few days?"
“Hell no!” He barks out laughing. “I turned my back on the Mafia and stood by it. But…I’d be lying if I didn’t think about going back. Not to reclaim my spot or anything, but just to pay everyone a visit and piss them off.”
“You just want to show them that you’re happier without them?” You ask curiously, tilting your head.
“Who said I was happy?” Dazai hums blankly, though, his playful smile was still on his face. “I mean, I’m doing better, I hope. But I’m not particularly happier with my spot.” He admitted it so casually. If he wasn’t happy, then what was he? You wondered that if you left, you’d be the same. At least in the Port Mafia, you had a purpose.
But almost as if Dazai read your mind, he playfully nudged your shoulder. “You’re probably thinking if you’re gonna end up like your Dazai-nii, huh?” he smiles. “But I’m telling you, you won’t ever feel contentment there. If you’re thinking ‘At least in the Port Mafia, I have a purpose’ then you’re wrong.”
“....Elaborate.”
“I’m saying that it’s better to feel like shit with freedom than feel like shit while being Mori’s puppet. Well, being branded as a traitor is no fun but, you’ll get over it.”
“A traitor…” you whispered the word, testing how it felt on your tongue. It was a heavy, terrifying label in the Mafia now that you actually started to think about it. It meant execution.
“It’s not as scary as it sounds,” Dazai added, his expression softening as he reached out, giving the top of your head a quick, messy pat. “Being a traitor just means you left and you’re too good to kill.” He turned toward the screen, leaving you alone with your thoughts once more. But as you looked back on your clothes on the rack from earlier, stained with dried blood, Mori’s voice seemed to finally loosen its hold in your mind.
___________________
A few days have already passed, you haven’t stepped foot in your penthouse or headquarters. The agency allowed your prolonged stay in the dormitories, knowing the circumstances you were put in. They were even kind enough to give away a few things like clothes and toiletries, things like that. Earlier this evening, you mentioned to Dazai that you locked your phone away in your cabinet, and he decided to get you those cheap ones just so he could contact you whenever he was away.
He was walking back home alone, the box containing your new cellphone clutched in his hand. But of course, Dazai, sharp as ever, didn’t go home immediately. He took a few round-a-bouts, trying to see if the feeling of being followed would shake off. It didn’t. He was being watched. BUt Luckily for him, the gaze that seemed to burn circles on his back was familiar.
Dazai walked into a dark alley, phone and hands in his pocket. He seemed relaxed for someone being trailed, whistling as he walked deeper. “Chuuya.” He called out, turning to face him. Sure enough, there was Chuuya Nakahara, with the faint red glow of his ability crackling around him.
Without even giving him another second to speak, Chuuya bolted and pins Dazai against a wall, his fist creating a dent on the brick, pieces crumbling to the ground. The tension was explosive, and Dazai immediately picked up that this was about the Mafia’s prodigy. “Dazai.” Chuuya hisses.
“What, are we just gonna keep saying our names now? Seriously, though, where do you get such ridiculous hats—”
“Shut up!” Chuuya lashes out, his gaze piercing Dazai’s. “I’m sure you know what this is about. Don’t you, Dazai?” he pulls out a knife from his pocket, holding it close to the brunette’s neck. “If you don’t bring me to that dumb kid, I’ll kill you right now and bring both of you back to Mori.”
Dazai, looking down at Chuuya’s rage, notices something off.
“Ohoho, Mori must be short on puppets if he needs Y/N back so urgently~ Can’t he let her go for just a few more days?” He taunts, pushing the knife down with his finger. “The kid’s been happier ever since she got away from you freaks.” Chuuya’s eyes softened, and even that surprised Dazai. He quickly realizes that that was the thing he couldn’t put his finger on. “What, worried she’s happier with us instead of you?”
“She’s happy?” Chuuya sighs, it sounded much like relief. He puts his fist down, backing away. Dazai sees that this, Chuuya going out to find you was beyond Mafia protocol or Mori’s orders. Chuuya’s eyes are filled with a desperate, protective panic. Its painfully obvious that this was personal. “...D’ya feed her well?”
Dazai couldn’t hold back his laughter. “Seriously? Do you have a soft spot for her or something?”
“Shut up, asshole!” Chuuya snapped, his cheeks flushing pink as he shoved his hands into his coat pockets. “It’s called decency—something you clearly lack! You have any idea how Mori treated that kid? He’s been running her into the ground since day one! Never let her breathe, never let her be a damn kid. Just kept rewiring her pea-brain until she couldn’t even tell who the hell she was anymore!”
Dazai’s playful grin faded just a fraction, his sharp, dark eyes analyzing the sudden raw frustration in his former partner’s voice.
“I’ve been keeping an eye on her from a distance because nobody else in that damn building would. What’s the point of having bodyguards and shit if they aren’t gonna do their job? She always comes back hurt.” Chuuya grumbled, his tone dropping into something surprisingly quiet, almost bitter. “So…yeah. I got a bit of a soft spot. And if you dragged her all the way here just to use her as a pawn against the Mafia, or if you let her rot in some alley…I swear to God, Dazai, I’ll tear you apart myself.”
Dazai hummed softly, tossing the small phone box from one hand to the other. “My, my. Look at you, Chuuya, playing big brother. It’s sweet. Too bad she already has her Dazai-nii.”
“Dazai-nii!? Tch— I’M WARNING YOU!” Chuuya barked, pointing a finger at his face. “Is she safe or not!?”
“Hm. Well…let’s see.” Dazai starts counting his fingers. “She’s sleeping on a comfy bed, she ate a warm dinner, and she slacked off the whole day watching TV.” Dazai replied smoothly, stepping past Chuuya toward the mouth of the alley. “Seems pretty safe if you ask me.”
“I hated it,” Chuuya muttered, his voice dropping an octave, heavy and uncharacteristically quiet. He stared down at his leather gloves, jaw clenching. “I hated seeing her around headquarters. I hated how much she reminded me of you.”
Dazai tilted his head, “Yeah? Why is that?”
“Fuck, everything!” Chuuya hissed, looking up with a fierce, pained edge in his eyes. “It was like a horrific rerun of you. She’d go on solo missions for days, even when she was just starting out and came back bleeding. Sometimes, she’d just sit in her room, and whenever I had to check up on her and ask her when was the last time she ate she wouldn’t remember.”
Chuuya let out a harsh bitter breath, pulling his hat down to shadow his face.
The witty retorts died in Dazai’s tongue, the box weighing heavy in his hand. He was used to Chuuya losing his composure, but meeting someone who cared about you just as much as he did made him relieved, and the fact that Chuuya went out here to find you not out of obligation or duty, but because he was worried validated his worries.
Because you were a true reflection of Dazai, and seeing someone worried for your wellbeing because you were put in the same circumstances as him not only validated his worries, but also reminded him that what he went through was no easy feat.
“So, yeah…I care. A lot.” Chuuya mumbles once more. “And…I’m not like a big brother to her, unlike you— not that she’d return that sentiment to me anyway but…yeah. She’s just a small kid. Make sure she’s always healthy.
Dazai walks towards the exit of the alley, long strides walking away from Chuuya. “She’s fine, Chuuya. More than fine. But since you gave me all that information about my little sister, I guess I’ll have to talk to Mori myself.”
“What the fuck! Dazai–”
“I’m serious. But anyways, It’s getting late.”
“Yeah, yeah. I should be heading back.”
“You’re not gonna offer to lend me a ride back home?”
okay im literally done with chapter 9 buttttt i think i'll work on chapter 10 now just to ensure i wont forget all about it and not post for like the rest of the month again LOLL
OKAY IM SORRY CH9 IS TAKING SO LONG 🥹 ive been jampacked with sm volunteer stuff and i havent been able to dedicate anytime to write. luckily, half of the chapter is already done so i hope I'll be able to finish it all tomorrow!
after your disaster of an ex, you had sworn off of dating all men. or women. or just about anyone, for that matter.
after all, you were just in high school, and relationships weren't as important as your academics. or so you tried to convince yourself.
but, see, the thing was, you'd always had a lover girl in you, and because of that, you'd fallen hard again. for someone you never would have expected.
you didn't even go to his school; you'd first seen him at a volleyball game against your school's team. you weren't all that into sports, but you enjoyed watching a game or two every once in a while.
and now, you never thought you'd be the type to fall at a first glance. but boy were you wrong. because the setter of the other team - karasuno high - was... gorgeous. that was really the only word you could use for him.
you'd hoped he'd just be some an average kid, maybe even a bench player, but no. he was one of the best setters - no, not just setters, but one of the best players - you'd ever watched. every action of his was precise, every movement was controlled and graceful, and it was clear that he had loads of raw talent.
your team had ended up losing the match, but you couldn't focus on that. or anything other than this number 9 on karasuno, as a matter of fact.
he didn't seem especially obnoxious either, unlike some of the athletes you'd encountered in your life- no. nonono. you were not falling for a man you just met. that was ridiculous! but damn it, this boy was actually ridiculous. why'd he have to-
"excuse me. my bag's behind you," a low voice spoke to you, and as you looked up, it felt like some low budget slow motion effect had been slapped over time itself.
dark blue eyes were meeting yours - the same eyes you'd been admiring just moments ago.
"oh! uh, hi! sorry, feel free to just take it-" you'd stuttered out, unstably balancing on one arm and turning to let him reach for the bag. but of course, the universe hated letting you maintain whatever dignity you had left, you completely lost your balance and fell to the very side where his arm was currently reaching for his bag.
and for some reason, this man's ridiculous volleyball reflexes allowed him to react in time with dropping the bag and catching you right before you completely collided with the stands.
"...are you okay?"
"y-yeah! thank you, uh..."
"kageyama. kageyama tobio."
"thank you, kageyama. you... played really well out there."
"thank you," he responded with a polite nod, before pausing for a moment. "...i'm sorry, but i still need to grab my bag."
you were, in fact, resting almost all of your weight on his arm. "sorry!" you'd sputtered out, face reddening even more. you didn't even know it was possible to blush this much, but hey, you learned something new every day!
he grabbed his bag before bowing once more and walking back to his team. and you very seriously wanted the ground to open up and swallow you whole. you already knew this interaction was something that would come back and haunt you.
little did you know, the interaction would come back to tobio too. multiple times. and not for the same reason as you.
for tobio, volleyball had been the center of his world for as long as he'd known. not academics, not really friendships, and absolutely not relationships. he'd been asked out more than once before, but he simply didn't see the point if it wasn't going to help his volleyball skills.
so imagine this poor guy's confusion when he's... thinking of you? just completely randomly, in the middle of the day, sometimes right before a serve - he would just think of you. he didn't even know why!
and in just a few weeks, the two of you would end up meeting once more. this time, for much longer.
it was stupidly cliché, really. you'd come to support your school (totally not to see the pretty boy who'd been plaguing your thoughts for an unreasonable amount now) at some big volleyball tournament, and not even 10 minutes in, while browsing the merch tables, you bumped into him.
"oh, sorry- oh. h-hi, kageyama," you greeted, smiling nervously and begging yourself to not mess this interaction up.
"oh, hello," he greeted back, eyes widening slightly in recognition. "i... don't think i got your name when we met before?"
the two of you fell into a casual conversation, and thank goodness, you didn't embarrass yourself this time.
by the end of it, numbers were exchanged, and both of you went back and said the same thing to your respective friend groups.
"...is it normal to, uh, like like someone after only meeting them twice?"
