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Dazai is sitting alone at the corner booth again.
He’s been doing this thing for a couple weeks now, where he shows up to work an hour and a half late, and then, instead of going up to the office, he drops himself in the most unobtrusive place in the café and just sits there. Staring at a wall, picking at his bandages, tracing out patterns on the table—either until someone from the Agency comes down to get him or Lucy marches over to the table and sends him away.
From her place behind the counter, Lucy watches him out of the corner of her eye.
She thought she’d appreciate the quiet from him, but it’s unnerving more than anything. Dazai prides himself on being loud and obnoxious—he likes to do the opposite of whatever he’s told and get in everyone’s way and push others’ buttons until just before he reaches the breaking point, then backtrack and play innocent before doing it all over again. He’s the worst customer Lucy has ever had to serve.
But some part of her misses him.
She never follows him up to the Agency office, so she’s not sure if this sullen mood swing is exclusive to before-11 a.m. or if he’s been acting like this around his friends too. She tried to ask Atsushi about it, once, but he got all dodgy and weird, so she dropped it.
Without much thought, she grabs a plastic cup and fills it with ice. She’s halfway through making a strawberry smoothie before she even realizes what she’s doing, but by that point, she’s already started the blender, so there’s no turning back. She doesn’t even know what food and drink Dazai enjoys, but she’s seen him steal sips of Ranpo’s smoothies, and if he doesn’t want this, she’ll just drink it herself.
He doesn’t eat much—not in the café, at least. He won’t order anything for himself, but he’ll steal bits of whatever the other Agency members have. Or he’ll pick at their leftovers.
Sometimes, when she notices Dazai is accompanying someone, she gives them a bigger serving than she’s supposed to. Or a free refill. Or an extra pastry, with the excuse that they made too many so they’ll just end up thrown out otherwise. She knows what it’s like to go without food—both by force and by choice.
With the finished drink in hand, she marches over to Dazai’s table, earlier than she usually does. She sets the cup down in front of him, and he starts.
“You’re a really shitty customer, always coming in here and never ordering anything,” Lucy complains.
“I don’t have any money,” Dazai replies. It might be a lie, but Lucy didn’t come over here to make him pay for something he didn’t order.
“Did I say you owe me for it?”
Dazai looks up at her, gaze dark and piercing. It might scare a lesser man, but Lucy simply stares right back at him, daring him to turn the drink down. He may have been a Port Mafia executive once, but Lucy knows who he is now. Besides, she looked true terror in the eye back when she was with the Guild, and it did not wear the face of Dazai Osamu. The scariest things are the ones that wear a pretty appearance to hide the blackness underneath.
Dazai is far easier to read than Louisa was.
“Why?” he asks.
“Because.” Lucy drops into the seat across from him. “It’s a bad look for us if we let people loiter without buying anything. Especially people like you.”
Dazai snorts.
And then, he takes the cup and presses the straw to his lips. He drinks slowly, face impassive. Lucy’s eyes wander, dropping from him to the crutches propped up against the table. He’s only recently graduated from the wheelchair Yosano put him in after he wrecked his leg in Meursault. Atsushi said Yosano said the injuries will likely cause permanent damage, since she can’t heal him with her ability.
He said it like a tragedy, but all Lucy could think was, Welcome to the club!
“Lucy-chan,” Dazai says, her name rolling easily off of his tongue despite the foreign sounds, “I thought you didn’t like me?”
“I don’t,” Lucy responds. “You’re an annoying bitch.”
Dazai laughs, almost startled. He traces his finger around the lid of his cup, resting his head on his other hand. “You knew what sort of drink I like.”
Lucy shakes her head. “I guessed. You steal Ranpo-san’s smoothies sometimes, and strawberry is my favorite, so,” she shrugs. “I figured if you didn’t drink it, I would.”
Dazai blinks. “Oh.”
“Oh?”
He takes another sip of the smoothie. “I think,” he starts, and then stops abruptly. He taps his fingers against the table, lips pursed. “Have you ever considered officially joining the Agency?”
“Not interested.”
(The truth is— Yes, Lucy has considered it. At one point, she thought it was a far-away fantasy; a dream she would never be worthy of. But now, it seems unnecessary. She doesn’t need a formal acceptance into the ADA in order to prove she’s good. She doesn’t need to prove she’s good at all.
And she’s happy working at the café. For now, what she has is perfect.)
“You’re not?”
“Nope.” Lucy shakes her head. “I deal with enough of your bullshit as it is. Actually, I was thinking of putting in an application with the Port Mafia so I can get a break from you people. I hear they pay really well.”
“I don’t think you’d like it there,” Dazai tells her, tone edging against something serious. He doesn’t meet her eyes when he says it.
Lucy isn’t actually planning to join the mafia, but now she’s curious, so she presses, “Why not?” She already has blood on her hands from her days in the Guild; it’s not as if she’s pure of heart like Atsushi or Kenji. She’s looked death in the face and kept walking; washed bloodstains from her hands and slept soundly afterwards. She’s kissed lips that gave orders for incomprehensible destruction and basked in the warmth of a love tangled with immorality.
“Because you’re like Kyouka-chan,” Dazai answers. “You could only bloom in the light.”
“Like Kyouka-chan,” Lucy repeats. Dazai nods. “But not like you?”
“Well,” Dazai says. And then, “What?”
“Before all of…this,” Lucy gestures vaguely at him, “you were a lot happier. It’s obvious the Agency is as good for you as it is Kyouka-chan and I.” She reaches for the drink, dragging it across the table so she can taste it herself. She lets the sweetness settle in her chest for a moment before continuing. “Why do you sit down here for so long? Why bother coming all the way here just to stop short of the Agency office?”
“If I go up there, I have to do work, and that’s just sooo much effort—”
“Don’t lie to me.” Lucy nudges the smoothie back towards him. Dazai, obediently, takes another sip. “Kunikida-san has always complained about your laziness. If you were up there right now, you’d probably be making paper airplanes at your desk or napping on the couch. But instead, you’re sat here, being miserable or whatever. Wouldn’t you be happier upstairs?”
Dazai’s gaze flicks left, towards the elevator, so fast Lucy almost thinks she imagined it.
When Dazai’s friends come down to get him, he doesn’t put up much of an argument before following them up to the office. But when Lucy has to force him to leave, he whines and complains and draws out the process for as long as possible. Lucy thought it was just because Dazai doesn’t like her, but…
“Let’s go,” she states.
“Huh?”
She stands, then hauls Dazai up out of his seat and shoves his crutches into his hands. She snatches the cup, so he won’t have to fumble with that on top of the crutches, and marches towards the elevator. When she reaches it, she turns to find Dazai still standing frozen in place.
“Come on!” she calls, rolling her eyes. “I’m still on the clock, you know. I have plenty of other, better, things to do!”
“Why waste your time on me, then?” Dazai asks, even as he makes his way towards Lucy. She jams the up button with her elbow, and holds the door open for Dazai as he warily steps inside.
“Because.” Lucy presses the button for the Agency’s floor, and the doors slide shut. “It’s better for both of us if you’re with your friends.”
“I don’t need you to escort me.”
“Then why don’t you ever just go up to the office on your own?”
Dazai doesn’t answer.
Lucy huffs. “Listen, I’m not going to pretend to know what you’re going through—literally no one can understand what’s going on in that weird-ass brain of yours. But you don’t have to pretend to be some untouchable god. If you’re scared of elevators—”
“I am not,” Dazai interrupts darkly, “scared of elevators.”
“If you don’t like elevators,” Lucy corrects, because she has a feeling arguing with him about the definition of ‘being scared’ won’t get them anywhere, “you can just say so.”
“I love elevators, actually.”
“Right. Just like I love hearths and fireplace pokers.”
Dazai stares at her. Lucy stares back.
The elevator dings when it reaches its destination, and Dazai exits as quickly as he can while on crutches. Lucy kicks her leg out to prevent the door from shutting so she can call, “You forgot your smoothie!”
“Keep it, I’m not hungry!”
Lucy grumbles to herself. She does take another drink, but she didn’t make it for herself, so it feels wrong to keep it. With a heavy sigh, she follows after Dazai, catching up to him right as he reaches for the doorknob to let himself into the ADA office. He pauses, then looks over his shoulder.
Lucy shakes cup lightly. “You should take better care of yourself.”
“You sound like Kunikida-san.”
“And you sound like someone who is literally unbearable to be friends with, but here we are anyway.” Lucy shoves past him, opening the door herself and holding it so Dazai can walk through. He glares at her, and she smiles back.
She follows him to his desk, greeting the other Agency members as she goes, and then sets the smoothie down right in front of him. “Drink up,” she instructs. “Atsushi-kun will tattle if you don’t. Isn’t that right?”
“Uh, yeah— Sure?” Atsushi agrees haltingly.
“Thanks, tiger-kitty! I knew I could count on you!”
With that, Lucy bids the Agency members farewell and heads back down to the café. She feels Dazai’s eyes on her as she goes, but she’ll never be scared of him in the way he wants. She knows there’s no reason to be—the Dazai that exists now won’t go far enough to do anything that could possibly incite true terror in her. Which means, unfortunately, she has no choice but to befriend him instead.
Well, whatever.
There are far worse people to share strawberry smoothies and elevator rides with.