Archive of Our Own

Dazai pulled at the sleeves of his new beige coat; the sharp eye of the wolf snapped to him. He slowly released them, eyes on the cat as if he didn’t notice the attention, and wished he could bandage one eye like he used to.

He released a shaky breath when the wolf’s focus turned back to the kittens. In his traditional clothes, he was still like a statue, sitting on the bench with his hands hidden in his sleeves - his sharp face was the only indication of his origin - how old and powerful he must be -

The cat - sensei, they called him - chuckled. He gently pushed a kitten mewling at his feet towards the wolf. With a mixture of anticipation and dread, Dazai watched as the wolf crouched. His eyes never leaving his target, he took something from his sleeve - Dazai’s heart rate increased, this wasn’t a wolf to be a prey to -

Fukuzawa-san extended a small fish to the kitten.

Dazai’s hands trembled at the sudden loss of tension, wide eyes still on the scene.

The legendary wolf protector of Yokohama tried to pet a kitten, who distrusted him instinctively, and made the subtlest of pouts as a result.

“You’ve been partners with Arahabaki for too long,” Natsume-sensei murmured, his look kind and sad. “We aren’t meant for darkness.”

Dazai looked at his feet. Brown shoes, tan pants. Like the fallen leaves on the ground.

No black.

Odasaku hadn’t worn black either.

“I was curious about death,” he murmured.

“What did you learn about it?” Fukuzawa-san said, directing his sharp look towards him as he continued petting the kitten.

“It is precious,” Dazai mumbled, eyes still on the ground, “and gives meaning to life. Humans abuse it while terrified of it.” He swallowed, “It is painful.”

Natsume-sensei nodded. “You are going to get used to it,” he said. Dazai twitched, taking in the unconcerned expressions of his elders before lowering his head again and clenching his eyes shut. “Death is precious because life is precious. Welcome to the side that saves lives, Dazai-kun.”

“A kitsune like me is welcome?”

“In the Agency, definitely. My second-in-command is as serious as humans can get.” Fukuzawa-san’s smile was as subtle as his pout. His Agency-people must cherish it. “Kitsune are tricksters, not murderers, because they know how precious life is.” Dazai bit his lip, hunching his shoulders. “I can’t believe that doctor partnered you with a destructive god.”

“There is a reason he is the leader of the Yokohama’s darkness,” Sensei said. “In the meantime, people need some time to forget the black kitsune of the mafia.”

Dazai nodded. His clothes might be new but he didn’t feel ready to start a new life yet.

Odasaku died. He gave up his life because the lives he protected died.

The assassin who vowed to never kill died. His kind friend who laughed at his tricks, poked his bandages to feel his fur underneath but startled every time Dazai showed him his tail like he forgot he wasn’t human - and his other friend, who chastised him but still ate his experiment food, respected death because of his respect for life but ended up betraying them.

Living with humans hurt. Dazai should have never left the shrine and come to the city - it was peaceful and calm there.

Maybe too peaceful and calm.

“Sensei! President!” Someone called, shattering their fragile silence and scattering Dazai’s thoughts. Fukuzawa-san’s kitten mewled and ran away.

“Here is your mentor.”

Dazai’s head snapped to the approaching figure, dread filling him at the thought of having a mentor. He hoped either the cat or the wolf would be it, they seemed friendly and wise - so did Mori-san at the beginning -

“Hi, kitsune-kun!” A young man stopped in front of him, a cloud of dust settling behind him. The tiger stripes on his face and limbs disappeared in front of Dazai’s eyes, leaving only his white hair and unnatural-colored eyes indicating his origin. Dazai stared at him, very aware of the bandages he had to use to cover his fur and his lone tail.

And then his scent registered: Thunderstorms and earth. Dazai’s breath hitched as warmth flooded his cheeks. He hated this, hated this -

The tiger extended his hand. “I am Nakajima Atsushi, nice to meet you.”

“Dazai Osamu,” he gave a shallow bow, his hands clenching his new beige pants. “Please take care of me.”

Atsushi-san crouched in front of him. “I will, Kitsune-Dazai-kun,” he said, his smile sunshine and brilliance. Dazai averted his eyes, catching Fukuzawa-san’s narrow eyes and Natsume-sensei’s self-satisfied expression -

His heart constricted - they knew -

Atsushi-san pulled Dazai into his arms. He froze, suddenly engulfed in warmness, trying not to breathe the intoxicating scent of the tiger. “As the future protectors of this city, we will be the best team ever!” He tightened his hug; Dazai made a high noise befitting an ordinary fox. “Let’s be the best of friends, Dazai-kun!”

—

Mori-san recognized his weakness at one glance, of course, and in the position of a mentor to a spirit animal’s introduction to city life, he let it foster. And then partnered him with Arahabaki.

Chuuya used to give him these smug looks, even when bloodied and weakened from his immense power, because Dazai always helped him return back to his body. His very being might be repulsed from touching such a black god but he was unable to stop himself.

And now - and now -

They were the same, he thought, gritting his teeth as he took in his new home at the ‘light’ side, his mentor/neighbor chattering beside him.

“So cool that you already stay at the dorms,” he was saying. “I wish you can meet the Agency members. They will love you!”

“How do you know,” he nearly snapped, his shrine-ingrained respect for elders clashing with the frustration at being manipulated again. “I was their enemy only days ago.”

Atsushi-san gave him a curious look. “And then you left the mafia because they forced your friend into a suicidal mission.”

Dazai shivered - it was so easy, right - they were above humans after all - they say life is precious, but only in theory - only as much as it benefitted them - aloof and distant and calculating - damn gods and spirit animals and damn -

“I am sorry for your loss,” Atsushi-san said, solemn.

“He was only a human.”

“Doesn’t mean it hurt any less. All our associates are humans and I would protect their lives with mine without hesitation.” His mentor’s pale lips curled into a kind smile, “Your friend’s loss isn’t insignificant, Dazai-kun.”

“Ah.” He bit his lip as his eyes watered. He quickly turned away, as if inspecting the living room. It was small and cozy.

Dazai didn’t want to be here. He wanted his friend back.

More than the sound of his steps, the wafting scent of thunderstorms indicated Atsushi-san’s approach. His stomach clenching, Dazai rapidly blinked a few times and looked at him as impassive as possible.

He couldn’t hide his wide eyes when Atsushi-san hugged him.

“I wish none of our human friends would die, but they eventually have to,” he murmured next to his ear, making Dazai shiver. “Let’s protect them together until their time to leave. And then we can cry on each other’s shoulder.” He raised his head; his multi-colored eyes were mesmerizing. “We will be the best of friends, after all, right?”

“Right,” he mumbled. Hating his weakness, he put his head back to Atsushi-san’s shoulder and inhaled the intoxicating scent of the tiger. “Right,” he lied.

-

“Why are we here?” Dazai asked, looking around with interest. The infamous Armed Detective Agency’s office looked ordinary and lived-in, with too much paperwork around. He wondered where his desk would be when he started working here. Next to Atsushi-san’s?

He imagined working next to the tiger, his addictive presence just one step away. Dazai doubted he would get any work done.

“Because you don’t have a shrine!” Atsushi-san’s shrill cry echoed in the empty office. Dazai stopped himself from hushing his mentor, feeling like a thief visiting the place in the middle of the night.

“I am not a god,” he said. They’ve had numerous versions of this conversation for weeks and Dazai still couldn’t comprehend Atsushi-san’s logic.

“You are a spirit animal living among humans. Our gods allow us small shrines; otherwise, how will we sustain ourselves?”

“I didn’t have a problem before.”

Atsushi-san raised his head from his own shrine, the smallest among the three, to give him a dubious glance.

“Sure you didn’t,” his mentor grumbled. “I bet the mafia boss had one for you and offered you poisonous rice balls or something.”

Dazai blinked away the image of Mori-san putting a bowl of rice in front of a small shrine, a sinister grin on his face. “Wouldn’t I know about it?”

“You don’t need to,” Atsushi-san shrugged, focusing back to his tiny batch of offerings: Some snacks, various desserts, and a bowl of a rice meal. “It is the thought that matters - the intention of the offer. With ill intentions, it is possible to poison a spirit animal’s mind, heart, and body.” He glanced over his shoulder to gauge his student’s attention. He winked at Dazai’s starry-eyed focus. “For us, anyway. Humans can’t hurt Fukuzawa-san or Natsume-sensei.” He chuckled, “not that they get anything other than appreciation, gratitude, and lots of request for protection.”

When Atsushi-san turned back to them, Dazai approached him and the shrines standing on tall tables. They were shiny and well cared for, placed adjacent to a door to a separate office Dazai assumed were Fukuzawa-san’s.

He smiled at the abundance of cat food in front of the largest one, which was, quite fittingly, as large as a cat house.

“Do they answer them?”

“Of course not,” Atsushi-san said; Dazai’s smile slipped off. “We deal with the protection of the city and its population - not the personal problems of the people. We would lose sight of the large picture otherwise,” he shrugged. “They like to read them though.”

“Ah. I thought they were above such wishes?”

His mentor threw him a sharp look. “We aren’t above anything,” he said. Then sighed, softening his expression. “You mean their aloofness, right? It comes with age.” He poked Dazai’s shoulder with a grin; his heart remembered who he was standing next to, skipping a few beats. “When you have nine tails, you will be like them too. Maybe you won’t even want to live in the city, among all the humans, their problems and noise. Natsume-sensei is getting close to that age.”

“Is it the reason you are trying to make a protector of me?”

Atsushi-san shook his head. “You are here because you wanted to be here. We aren’t making you anything you aren’t.”

And then, with one step, he stood in front of the empty fourth table Dazai ignored since he entered the office. His mouth suddenly dry and hands clenching his shirt, Dazai watched as his mentor took a tiny shrine from a box. On unsteady legs, he leaned close to read the ‘Kitsune Dazai-kun’ heading of it.

It looked hand-made. His throat closed up.

“Who - I mean it is not necess -“

“We made it together at work today,” Atsushi-san put the tiny thing on the table and then took a step back to look at it proudly. It looked off-putting and awkward.

Dazai adored it.

“Welcome to the Agency, Dazai-kun,” he said, throwing his arm around Dazai’s shoulders with a bright grin. “The forth protector of Yokohama.”

His usual complaint that he couldn’t protect anything didn’t leave his lips. He bit his bottom lip as a trembling smile overtook his face, hope feeling bright and warm in his chest.

This empty office, cold in a winter night, and this moment between a mentor and his student was imprinted on Dazai’s memory.

Atsushi-san patted his shoulder before taking his hand back. By the time Dazai managed to tear his eyes away from the tiny shrine, he had finished his rice and dessert offerings, starting on the snacks. A scent of watermelon drifted over to Dazai when he tore open a package.

“Fukuzawa-san used to be my mentor like I am to you,” he said, throwing a soft candy to his mouth, making a face to the intense artificial flavors of humans. “I had the biggest crush on him.”

His mentor looked like the predator he was with the moonlight shining into the room. Dazai felt like a rabbit caught in a trap, feeling the same panic and desperation. He opened his mouth - he was a trickster kitsune, able to talk his way out - no sound came - he didn’t want to lose Atsushi-san - his shining mentor and future friend -

“One day, he sat me down and explained that it was merely a physical attraction to strength. It would pass as I got stronger and that I shouldn’t let it bother me.”

Dazai’s throat closed up. He glanced at his tiny shrine - his tiny piece of hope.

“I won’t make that speech to you, Dazai-kun, because your mafia career showed how dangerous this attraction could be when left uncontrolled. Right?”

He nodded, eyes on the ground. He refused to look up even when Atsushi-san sighed and walked towards him with his intoxicating presence.

“Don’t be like that,” he murmured, his breath smelling of watermelon. Dazai shivered but raised his head when Atsushi-san touched his chin. “I only meant to warn you, not scare you away.” He smiled, impish and cheerful. “Your blush really suits you after all!”

Dazai spluttered.

“And - there it is!”

His heart was treacherous.

“Atsushi-san!”

The tiger laughed, more like a playful kitten than a predator. He pulled a struggling Dazai into his arms, ignoring his protests.

“You are like a plushie!”

“I am not a toy,” Dazai squawked. In response, Atsushi-san’s arms tightened over his bandages and Dazai nearly shrieked, his cheeks beyond burning at this point. “Wha - what - you just said -“

“That we shouldn’t encourage your crush,” Atsushi-san pouted. Dazai stared at him, his mouth agape, face aflame. With a sigh, he released Dazai.

“We will still be the best of friends, right?”

“Right,” he said, questioning his mentor’s sanity. And then grumbling to his traitor heart when it skipped a beat at the answering blinding smile.

-

This feels too much like a date, he had thought when Atsushi-san suggested they go sakura-watching.

This feels too much like a date, he thought when Atsushi-san held his hand as he lead them to a park, waving his picnic basket in excitement.

This feels too much like a date, he was thinking while eating the rice balls Atsushi-san prepared for them, sitting under a sakura tree, surrounded by pink petals.

“This feels too much like a date,” he said when Atsushi-san leaned forward to take a petal that had landed on his hair. Dazai shivered, the other’s touch electrifying even through his hair.

“Hm?” His mentor said. “A date between friends?”

“There is no such thing,” Dazai grumbled, pointedly looking at the couples filling the park.

Atsushi-san looked around as if he noticed the romance in the air for the first time and then threw him an impish grin.

Dazai prayed patience from his god, stuffing the rest of the rice ball to his mouth so he couldn’t open his mouth and take his bait.

He wondered how long this crush would last. Not until he got another tail, surely. He would burn himself from embarrassment by then - or jump onto his mentor, which then would embarrass him for the rest of their long lives and friendship.

He smiled.

That’s all. It would be an embarrassing story, not blackmail material to force his hand into disgusting jobs. He doubted Atsushi-san could blackmail people if he had to.

The ‘light’ side was charming and endearing, he has found out.

All thanks to his mentor, who teased him but didn’t leave him alone in hollowing nights, who took him to weirdly romantic outings, laughing at his constant blush, just when his thoughts began to overwhelm him.

Dazai wished Odasaku didn’t die. He wished Ango-kun didn’t betray them.

He wished he could have found his way to the light without losing his friends. Without betraying his god and darkening his soul.

“What is going on in that pretty head of yours?”

Dazai gazed at his cherished mentor. He would heal. And -

“When do I get the title of best of friends?”

Atsushi-san’s eyes brightened. Anticipating his reaction, Dazai was ready to be pulled into his arms like a plush toy. He felt drunk on the familiar thunderstorm scent.

“Anytime!”

“That was easy,” he said, wrapping his arms around the tiger and putting his head to his chest. Atsushi-san’s heartbeat was steady and strong. Dazai felt valuable and safe in his arms, like the embrace of his god in the shrine but more - everything with Atsushi-san was more - because his heart drummed in response -

He raised his head, a reflecting impish smile on his lips. “Can’t we be more?”

Atsushi-san’s smile slipped off, showing the serious predator it hid. And he stared. With his mesmerizing, sunset-colored eyes - not even slit like a cat but with an iris like a human - he stared.

“I - I was joking -“

“Why not?”

Dazai stilled. This was the most important moment of the rest of his life, right? He willed himself not to even breathe.

“I mean, Fukuzawa-san said not let these emotions bother me but,” a smile cracked his mentor’s serious facade. “These emotions do not bother me.” He raised one hand to cup Dazai’s cheek. “Dazai-kun’s emotions do not bother me. I quite like them, in fact.” He winked.

Of course, Dazai stammered and blushed. And then blushed some more at the resulting laughter.

For the first time since he came to the city, he felt like he could join in the laughter. The joy. A large smile found its way to his lips.

The future looked brighter than ever.

“Let’s be the best of friends and more, Atsushi-san,” he said.

“Let’s, Dazai-kun!”