Chapter Text
I.
“W-what are you doing here?” Kunikida practically shrieks, glasses askew. Kouyou Ozaki stares back in blatant disappointment, a half-asleep Shuuji propped up against her side.
“I was under the impression that Chuuya-kun told you I would be the one to take him overnight,” she says blankly. “Or, did that go in through one ear and out the other?”
Kunikida sputters, face turning an interesting shade of red. Atsushi keeps his gaze directed back to his computer, not very keen to face Kouyou Ozaki’s wrath this early in the morning.
“Alas, we are in a temporary ceasefire,” Ozaki murmurs mournfully, sighing. She kneels down elegantly, allowing Shuuji to hop off her arm. “Therefore, I will not incur my wrath upon the Agency. Unless you harm Shuuji-kun, that is, but I believe that you’ll be meeting Chuuya-kun’s fist rather than my sword if that is the case.”
Atsushi feels a cold sweat drip down his neck, and he swallows. He could live without seeing Golden Demon again, thank you very much.
“Thank you for bringing him here, executive lady. We’ll take good care of him, I promise,” Yosano greets, smirking. Ozaki flashes her a sharp glare that doesn’t quite reach her eyes, and promptly turns on her heel. Atsushi swears he catches a glimpse of the mafia executive’s cheeks turning pink.
As soon as Ozaki closes the door behind her, Shuuji watching her as she waves one last goodbye for him, Atsushi swivels in his chair, letting out a sigh of relief. That’s one crisis avoided. The other…
“Good morning, everyone,” Shuuji murmurs, yawning. Everyone pipes up with their own greeting, and almost immediately after, Kyouka and Kenji whisk him aside.
Atsushi will admit that he wishes he could do the same, but sadly, work calls in an utterly untantilizing tone, so he shoves down the urge and begins his work for the day instead.
(…Atsushi takes it back, actually, when approximately two hours later, Kenji and Kyouka come back out with a near-hysterically laughing Shuuji covered in— is that hay?!
Needless to say, it’s a pain to clean up.)
II.
“Ahh, you’re such a cutie! Why can’t your dad be more like you?” Yosano coos. Shuuji watches her with a big eye as she parades around him with various tools that should really not be in the proximity of a child.
“Say, do you want to learn something new? Just don’t tell your mommy, okay?” She hums, gesturing for the kid to come nearer. He looks wary at first (understandably), but eventually seems to decide that she won’t be of any harm, and inches closer to her.
Twenty minutes and five surgical tools later, Yosano steps out of her clinic holding an excited Shuuji, who is wrapped in bandages from head to toe. Kunikida nearly has a heart attack, and Atsushi faints on the spot.
“Hey, hey, I didn’t hurt him or anything. Dazai and Nakahara would have my head if I did,” she yawns, propping Shuuji against her hip. Shuuji snorts, pulling on the end of a bandage, muttering something that sounds suspiciously like ‘how does Dad get all these on everyday?’.
“Y-Yosano-sensei? What happened?” Naomi asks, sweat beading at her forehead. Yosano smirks.
“Oh, this? Little Shuuji here just really wants to take after his dad, it seems…”
Shuuji stares up at Naomi with his large, uncovered brown eye, a bandage falling over his forehead, and Naomi squeals in newfound adoration.
III.
Kunikida clicks his tongue, tapping his foot impatiently as he stands with an eagerly awaiting Shuuji. Ranpo is supposed to be taking care of the kid, but apparently, Kunikida’s co-worker decided it’s not worth the trouble. Either that, or he’s off getting sweets— which is basically the same thing, damn it!
He swears under his breath, glancing at his watch again. Ten minutes off schedule, and still no sign of Ranpo.
Calling him is useless. Ranpo rarely, if ever, answers calls from members of the Agency, because of his perceptiveness and ability to guess exactly what they need. Kunikida straightens, resolving to finish the job Ranpo won’t get done.
“Kunikida-san?” Shuuji asks, wide brown eye staring into his. “Are we going to get ice cream, now?”
Kunikida manages to stifle a sigh, but can’t help but smile slightly. Shuuji is far cuter than Dazai, and considerably less infuriating, so he expects this to go smoothly. He doesn’t think he’ll have to fix his schedule too much for this.
(He is, in fact, incorrect. Shuuji somehow manages to mess up eating ice cream, and after a few failed attempts and more money spent on ice cream cones than needed, Kunikida settles on getting Shuuji some cupped ice cream. He regrets forgoing bringing his notebook for once to just create the ice cream, and silently mourns the loss in his wallet, but the smile on Shuuji’s face as he eats it might just be worth it.
…Not that Kunikida is one for kids, anyways. His schedule for today is quite literally ruined.)
IV.
Several dozens of pairs of eyes watch as Kouyou steps into her office, arm wrapped protectively around Shuuji, who stares at the headquarters in wonder. He catches the stare of one man, and he seems especially stricken. Shuuji wonders.
Is it his bandaged eye? That’s really the only distinguishable feature he has…
“Not a single word,” Kouyou demands smoothly. The mafia grunts immediately bow down to their waists in apology, then scatter.
V.
“Tachihara, you idiot, he’s not gonna— he’s not gonna bite you or anything!”
“B-but what else am I supposed to do?!”
Gin sighs, the sound barely audible through her mask. These two really are hopeless with children.
Shuuji sits on the ground, looking incredibly intimidating. The bandages around his left eye are loose, and he does not look happy about it at all.
Gin kneels beside him quietly, offering a hand. Shuuji watches her in mild interest as she tugs one end of the bandages. He seems to understand, the smart boy, then turns his head to give her better access.
She tunes out Tachihara and Higuchi’s bickering for a moment, and hopes they don’t hear her speak. “Are you comfortable with me taking them off and then re-wrapping them, or would you prefer it if I just tightened it for now?” She whispers. Shuuji tilts his head.
“You can take them off,” he mumbles. Gin nods, unraveling it slowly. Then, she feels curiosity well up within her again.
“Is there a reason you have it over your eye, anyways?” She asks. It’s a question that’s been nagging at her for a while.
“Mmm.” Shuuji hums. “I don’t like seeing it. It makes me feel different.”
Gin’s eyes widen slightly in surprise. That… certainly wasn’t something she expected, especially from someone so young.
Shuuji continues. “Mom and Dad say that they’re very pretty, but since I don’t like how it looks, and contacts are a pain, Dad offered to help me cover it. Mom says that we look really similar now!”
Gin’s relaxes, eyes softening. Chuuya’s right, in a way. Despite the considerable difference in height, and Shuuji’s lack of bandages elsewhere, he seems like a copy of Dazai. Then, as Shuuji turns his head around to allow her to wrap his eye back up, she sees a strikingly familiar blue eye— and, yeah, she muses silently. He’s definitely their child.
(Shuuji continues to cling to her for the rest of his day at Port Mafia headquarters, and Higuchi and Tachihara stare at Gin as if she’s a goddess.)
VI.
Shuuji stares up into crimson red eyes, belonging to a man with a smile that stretches across his face eerily.
“Shuuji-kun. It’s a pleasure to see you again,” the man says smoothly, eyes glimmering. Shuuji narrows his eyes.
He remembers words from his father. ‘If you ever see someone with shoulder-length, greasy-looking black hair, beady red eyes, an ugly long cloak like your mom’s, and a scary smile, walk away and don’t look back. Actually, hit him where it hurts most, first, and then you run.’
Shuuji heard the way his mother shrieked at his father to stop telling stupid lies, but Mom never once to Shuuji not to listen to Dad, so Shuuji always kept the advice at heart. It seems he’s met the man his father was warning him about.
…Even if his appearance is less gangly than Dad had described. But, Shuuji knows what he’s talking about, through whatever telepathic father and son relationship they have, so it isn’t hard to walk up to the man and punch him square in between the legs (because Shuuji knows that it’s the perfect weak spot!). He’s the perfect height, too!
As soon as the stranger stumbles back, Shuuji takes off in the opposite direction. Ah, he sure hopes he made Dad and Mom proud.
VII.
“This is a disaster. An utter catastrophe.”
Atsushi is very much inclined to agree. Who in their right minds decided to pair him up with Akutagawa to take care of a five-year-old?
Shuuji blinks up at Akutagawa, before giggling. Atsushi nearly falls on his ass, tripping over the uneven pavement of the part. Akutagawa gives the child a glare that becomes increasingly less cross.
“You. You are a menace,” the mafioso hisses, but Atsushi still fails to hear any heat in the curse.
Shuuji snickers— he snickers!!—, “Hey, that’s what Mom calls Dad when he starts k-ki-kissing him in the kitchen!”
Atsushi looks absolutely scandalized, mouth agape in horror. “Excuse me, when they’re what—?”
Akutagawa slaps a hand over the weretiger’s mouth, because he thinks he’ll do something very rash if he hears him speak more than he already has to.
“You. Turn into a tiger or whatever.”
Atsushi stares at him as if he’s grown a third head. “You want me to what?”
Shuuji turns to him, eye wide. “A tiger?!”
Atsushi looks at Akutagawa miserably for assistance, but the mafioso promptly ignores him. “…You two aren’t making this easy for me.”
“It’s for Dazai-san,” Akutagawa states simply. “That’s all the motivation you need.”
And, of course, Atsushi is visibly torn. With a resigned sigh, he transforms, and Shuuji looks at him in wonder as a white tiger appears before his eyes.
“Wow! Can I sit on him?” He asks, and the sight is so bright that Akutagawa has to shield his eyes from the onslaught.
“Um— what?” Atsushi stutters. Shuuji seems to realize that he talks, and seems all the more excited. Without another word, Akutagawa steps over, and lifts the little kid on and over Atsushi’s back.
“H-hey!” Atsushi doesn’t sound particularly bothered, but he definitely seems nervous, eyes darting around their surroundings. “D-do you really think this is a good idea?”
Akutagawa nods sagely, and Rashomon pokes its head out. “Of course.”
Then, of course, because the child is the spawn of Satan— no, Akutagawa convinces himself, this is Dazai’s spawn, which… is admittedly similar enough— Shuuji tugs on Akutagawa’s coat— Rashomon, and he nearly has a heart attack (or three). Surprisingly, there’s no harm done, and Rashomon actually seems to… enjoy the attention?
It leaves him stricken. Because the look on Shuuji’s face says nothing more than “I want to wear the coat,” and Akutagawa does that have a proper response to that. Not to mention that the coat is incredibly oversized.
Atsushi very obviously notices, and his ears flick back and forth (and it’s not cute, it’s really not, he convinces himself).
“Akutagawa! This is for Dazai-san and Chuuya-san! We can do this.”
Akutagawa practically cracks under the pressure. Dazai is his idol, Chuuya is his well-respected mentor, and Atsushi is staring at him with big, ugly, literal tiger eyes, so—
He hands his coat over to Shuuji, and nearly collapses with relief when he breaks into a grin that rivals even that of Dazai's.
(And, if anyone crosses paths with a determined-looking emo kid walking a huge, striped white tiger with a small boy sitting on top wearing an oversized, edgy-looking coat… well, they don’t judge.)
(“Say, where have you been all this time?” Yosano frowns, crossing her arms. “Not that I’m complaining; it’s your loss, but I don’t see why you don’t want to hang out with little Shuuji for a bit.”
Ranpo spins in his chair, shrugging as he pops another lollipop into his mouth. “I’ll get the chance some time in the future. I get the feeling that he’s gonna be around a lot more often after this.”
Yosano kicks her legs out and crosses them over the couch, gazing out the window forlornly. “I wonder what they’re doing,” she murmurs, and Ranpo doesn’t have to guess to know that she’s referring to Dazai and Chuuya.
Ranpo sighs. “Oh, I think they’re out there having the time of their lives. That’s no fun.”
(Somewhere overseas, a golden band is slipped over an ungloved, calloused hand.))
One very unusual week later, two familiar figures appear at the Agency door.
“Aw~ I expected things to be far more disorderly than this,” Dazai grumbles childishly. Chuuya sends him a sharp glare.
“Of course you did, but I told Shuuji to behave.”
Dazai sulks. “Boo, no fun!”
“Hey! Look who’s back!” Ranpo shouts, and three things happen simultaneously:
Yosano stalks out of her office with a faint-looking Kunikida tugged along by his collar, no doubt having just returned from her… treatment.
Naomi and Tanizaki peek their heads over the couch, to which Naomi promptly shoves Tanizaki back down. Tanizaki manages to roll off the couch.
Then, Kyouka and Atsushi rush out of the storage room with Shuuji, who carries a concerning amount of toiletries in his small arms. Shuuji unknowingly runs straight over Tanizaki, who chokes (that must’ve hurt, Dazai muses).
Shuuji catches sight of them both, and sprints to the door, sending a roll of toilet paper (toilet paper? What’s the toilet paper doing there?) rolling rather anticlimactically to the floor.
“A-ah, Shuuji, be careful!” Atsushi exclaims in panic, rushing after the unraveling roll. It rips as it twirls around Kunikida’s chair, and then Shuuji is flinging himself into Chuuya’s arms.
“Mom!”
“Hey, hey, watch out—!” Chuuya laughs, and the sound in like a melody to Dazai’s ears. “What did I say? Behave, dummy.”
Dazai drops to a squat, staring at Shuuji inquiringly. “Is that the silent treatment i'm getting?” He whines. “This is favoritism!”
Wordlessly, Shuuji turns towards him, eye wide. Then, he beams, pushing out a hand to pat Dazai’s head. And, oh, Dazai thinks. He really, really missed his son.
Chuuya manages to pry himself from the death grip Shuuji has on him, an amused smirk on his face. “I think you broke him, Shuuji,” he whispers. Dazai almost swats at Chuuya in denial, but he takes the opportunity to take them both into a group hug.
“That’s sweet, isn’t it?” Yosano remarks from farther away. Ranpo grumbles out something incomprehensible, and Kunikida collapses face-first into his desk. Everyone else seems otherwise occupied, which is entirely fine to Dazai, because he’d rather not be gawked at on this fine morning, thank you very much.
“Oi, as fun as this is, death by being suffocated by Dazai Osamu is not something I desire,” Chuuya’s muffled voice sounds, and Dazai lets out a hearty laugh. He releases both of them, and is met by two dazzling grins, and honestly? He’s never felt so happy in his life.
Meanwhile:
“Heyyy, Yosano-sensei, you should look closer,” Ranpo whispers. “Don’t you think something’s off?”
Yosano, as perceptive as she is, stares at Ranpo suspiciously. “Did they rope you into something?”
A snort. “Over Fancy Hat’s dead grave, yeah.”
Well, a good point. Yosano frowns, then looks over to the family huddled at the doorway. She can’t help the way her lip quirks up in amusement. That’s cute…
…And then, her gaze skillfully lands on Dazai’s hand, which he waves around dramatically. Her eyes narrow, and she catches the gleam of something gold that was very much not there when Dazai had first left. She snaps her gaze to Ranpo, who shrugs, but the answer is there in the way he smirks. She feels her eye twitch.
“Dazai—!” That draws the attention of practically the whole office, and Dazai stares at her innocently.
“Dazai Osamu, do not tell me that you ran out of Yokohama with Nakahara to elope in another country!”
(Ah, and really, Dazai and Chuuya have no reason to look so sheepish. Yosano’s ticked off enough, in fact, that she drags Kouyou, who is also rightfully furious, to prepare a proper wedding ceremony right in Yokohama so they can celebrate together.)