Fyodor, Dazai and Co's Shenanigans

a rat in the house

Atsushi hummed as he skipped towards Dazai's dorm in the agency dormitories, Kyouka walking silently behind him. He stopped in front of the bare door, knocking gently as he called out, “ Dazai-san! Wake up, Kunikida-san said to get to work early today!”

When silence greeted his words, he sighed before grabbing the extra key given to him and unlocked the door and pushing it open. “ Dazai-san—”

Atsushi stilled, staring in stunned silence at the figure standing in the shadows of the kitchen. Glowing purple eyes and a white ushanka. He blinked as Kyouka moved around to get a look at what he was staring at.

Atsushi nodded his head in a greeting at the figure, before pushing Kyouka gently out of the door way, closing the door and walking to the Agency.

“ Let's just... Not comment on that.” he murmured, looking back at Dazai's apartment. What was Fyodor doing in his dormitory?

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The sun shone into his eyes and wind blew through his room as Dazai blinked an eye open. Bleary from sleep, he yawned before noticing sleepily that wind and light was in his usually dark and still room. He looked to the window— where blinds should be closed and the window locked— the glass pane was shattered.

His eyes moved to the glass shards on the tatami flooring, his amber eyes blinking in sleepy confusion before he looked to the doorway. A dark, tall figure stood in the doorway, the whites of his shirt shown clearly due to the sunlight leaking through the broken blinds and window, while his face covered in shadows.

Dazai knew who it was. The brunette looked back at the shattered glass and sighed, before feeling wind blow beside him— the slightest of a fabric wrinkle. He looked to the side, and there he was in all of his Russian glory. Fyodor Dostoevsky.

His pale face an inch away from Dazai's own pale one, eyebags and sunken cheeks clearly seen from the close proximity. Dazai ignored him, pushing his futon cover from his body as he stepped out of the warmth and into the bathroom.

He ignored the shuffling coming from behind him, ignored the head of dark black hair behind him in the mirror, ignored the soft sound of fabric wrinkling behind him.

He wrapped the bandages around his limbs, and changed into his usual outfit whilst ignoring Fyodor, who was in the room watching him silently. He stepped out into the kitchen and brought out two cups of instant noodles.

Setting one steaming cup in front of the seated Russian on the floor, Dazai sat down beside him as he slurped the hot noodles up. The plain taste of his usual meals back in the Port Mafia was a pleasure.

Dazai stared into the wall in front of him, listening to the rushed eating of Fyodor beside him— Ha. He knew it, Fyodor hadn't eaten or slept.

“ You can sleep here. No one will bother you, I'm going now,” He told, to no one in particular however obviously directed at the foreigner. He rose from his position on the floor, grabbed his trench coat and threw his cup away. He waved before shutting the door behind him and footsteps got further away.

Fyodor stared at the closed yet unlocked door, then gingerly migrated to Dazai's room. Maybe he'd take up on that offer.

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“ KUNIKIDA-SAN!! THERE WAS SOMEONE IN DAZAI-SAN'S ROOM—”

“ Ah, it's one of those days, huh? Yes, I know. He appears in the idiot's dorm sometimes.”

“ HOW ARE YOU SO CALM ABOUT THIS!? ISN'T HE AN ENEMY????”

“ Don't be so panicky Atsushi-kun! It's a regular occurrence! As long as you don't bother the rat, he won't do anything,”

“ But, RANPO-SAN!”

“ Just listen to us, brat. It's fine, it's normal.”