Just Perfect [BSD oneshot]

. . .

For a while, I really didn't like this. I started this prolly a month ago and finished it halfway before just leaving it in my drafts. I ended up finishing it but then I hated it for a few days after that anyway. It felt too emotionless for me. I added some stuff here and there just now so I like it much better :)

I'm so glad I was able to get this out of my drafts!

. . .

Dazai was late again. 

The entire ada was expecting it though. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary. He always walked in late and he would this time too. It was the norm. It was a part of their metaphorical- and literal for Kunikida- schedules. And, just as they had predicted, they were correct. He eventually walked in around... 10:00 am?!  While he was still late by dictionary definition, he rarely came that early, ironically enough. He usually had his grand entrance near the lunch break, not an entire two hours before it. But no, he walked in at 10:00 in the morning, and all the ada members unanimously decided that they would've rather had him late and lazy as always than this.

At first glance, he looked perfectly fine. He didn't seem injured even at all and didn't seem particularly sad either. In fact, he was smiling as he always did. The only thing different about him that day, the only thing that caught everyone's attention, was his eyes. They were dark, bottomless, and lifeless. They usually held some kind of light in them- a sign that he was alive and breathing- but now his eyes were dead and cold. 

(Like a corpse.)

They all collectively shuddered.

Dazai greeted them as cheerfully as he always did and walked to his favorite sofa, lacking the usual spring in his step. Kunikida didn't even berate him for being late. Dazai, frankly, didn't seem to care. He abruptly face-planted onto the couch and then sluggishly slid his headphones on.

And that was the last time anyone saw him move for the next hour.

Sure, he always lied on the couch and did close to nothing most of the time, but he was usually still active. If he was awake, he'd be tapping his fingers on the side of the sofa in sync with the song he was hearing and humming obnoxiously. Sometimes he'd even be singing. Even when asleep, he'd be doing something unconsciously to add to the usual hustle and bustle in the agency. Now, with a lack of the tapping, or humming, or singing, or- or anything, really, the agency felt eerily silent, even with all the excess background noise.

It felt wrong.

It felt as if Dazai wasn't there.

As if they were all at a funeral, and Dazai's dead eyes matched his dead body, and they were all just watching him gradually rot on the agency sofa, not even bothering to do anything about it.

Atsushi just couldn't let this go on. Dazai wasn't okay, he needed help, and they all weren't doing anything. He couldn't fully blame them because who knew how Dazai would react in this state, but they could've at least tried. It didn't matter though. Because Atsushi would. 

He clumsily shuffled out of his chair with a determined look on his face and felt all eyes focus on him immediately. Anxiety slowly crept into his gut, knocking up his confidence a bit. He glanced at Kunikida, seeking eye contact if just for a second, but the light reflecting in the older man's glasses prevented Atsushi from knowing if he was actually watching him as well. It seemed that Kunikida had been looking at him, however, because he gave a single, tense nod. While a simple gesture such as a nod might've not meant much to others, Kunikida knew it meant a whole lot to Atsushi. He knew what the boy was planning on doing and was giving him approval and encouragement to go through with it. He needed Atsushi to understand that he had his back and could only hope he'd get the message. The silver-haired boy blinked in shock for a moment before an even stronger determination washed over his nervous expression, now backed up by Kunikida's encouragement. He nodded back at Kunikida to show that he understood before continuing to walk to Dazai.