Chapter Text
Icarus.
What a peculiar myth. A man with big ambitions ignores all warnings in an attempt to reach an unobtainable goal.
It’s quite sad at actually just how close he was before it all came crashing down.
What were his thoughts filled with before the fall?
Were they flowing with wonder at the view that he and he alone got to experience? Were they bursting with happiness at having made it?
Or were they proud, arrogant? So sure that he’d proven everyone wrong.
Was he excited, more than ready to preen under the disbelieving stares and shocked faces of his fellow man.
Or perhaps he didn’t think anything at all, maybe being in that moment was all he needed.
Oh how he’d done the impossible.
Of course though, he hadn’t. Icarus wasn’t special. He wasn’t a God or Deity, he wasn’t somebody that got to have. He was simply a mortal. A mortal with dreams that rivaled that of mystical beings, yes, but still, he was just a man.
He wasn’t special and because of that, anything worth keeping was lost to him.
And so he fell.
What were his thoughts plagued with as the wax melted? As he felt his gentle incline transform suddenly into a vicious decline.
Was he scared of the fast approaching ground? Was he embarrassed by the knowledge that he was wrong, that he couldn’t do it?
Or was he fueled with a burning rage that paralleled the sun's heat?
Was he angry that he had been robbed of the view that seemed so out of reach for someone like him -someone so mortal- and yet he’d been there, he’d been right there, only to have it ripped out from under him.
Or maybe, he was thankful. Because despite the quick drip of wax that indicated his inevitable doom, despite the growing ground beneath him, he’d done it. He’d gotten to see what it was like when so many others could only imagine.
When they could only dream of the soft clouds, of the glowing rays that broke through the sky to greet him.
Did that make it all worth it?
Icarus was a fool. He reached too far, flew too high and he paid the price.
Dazai couldn’t help but sympathise with the legend a little, for he was also a fool and the cost he was expected to pay was dizzying.
And yet, in the end, as he found himself hurtling back to earth as Icarus had once, he couldn’t help but feel like maybe their ventures had been worth it.
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Mori hadn’t made his condition known yet and that put the office on edge.
They’d agreed to it in the spur of the moment. When their backs had been pressed to the wall with such a force that the stone had started cracking.
If it had been anything else, anything at all, if the fate of the whole city hadn’t depended on it, then he knows Fukuzawa never would have agreed.
Honestly, selfishly he was hoping that regardless of how dire things had appeared at the time, Fukuzawa still would have turned Mori’s smug smile and sickly sweet words away. That he would have trusted that the ADA -that Dazai- could turn the tides in their favour.
Unfortunately things hadn’t worked out that way and The President made the choice to go to Mori for the help of the Port Mafia.
It wasn’t that Dazai couldn’t see the benefits of that play. It was the Port Mafia for pete’s sake, they had both the fire power in their weapons and abilities -and while the ADA had a fair bit of that backing them it didn’t compare to the raw strength of the Mafia- and the numbers.
The ADA was good -the best- but they were small and could only do so much even with both Ranpo and Dazai working tirelessly to find a solution.
So it wasn’t that he blamed Fukuzawa or even that he resented him - he could never resent the man for doing what he thought necessary to protect the others- it was more that he now found himself in a deep state of acceptance.
He was numb to the panic and worry that was suffocating the Agency because while the others were clutching at straws, going through every possible demand they thought Mori would make, from things like having the Agency disband to being able to call on them if ever he should need them, Dazai was aware of what it was Mori actually wanted.
He found it hard, impossible even to look them in the eyes when they would come up to him, veiled fear etched into their features as they asked his opinion on the subject.
He would swallow thickly around the ‘sorrys’, ‘please forgive me’ and the ‘I’m not going back because I want to leave, I promise’ and tell them in his most nonchalant voice that whatever Mori wants will be irrelevant because they’ve won, nothing else matters now, anything else they can fix.
He’d ignore the pointed glare that Ranpo would shoot his way and pretend he couldn’t see the underlying sorrow in those green eyes.
Then whoever it had been asking the question -it was most commonly Atsushi- would breath out a small sigh of relief, like they didn’t want Dazai to know that they had actually been scared in the first place -but he knew, he always knew- and they would thank him and tell him he was right, though it sounded more like they were trying to convince themselves of that fact.
Then if it was Atsushi that had been the one to approach him -which it normally was, and he was grateful that his mentee felt so comfortable and safe with him that he would put so much trust and faith in Dazai’s answer- he’d reach out and ruffle the kids hair which more often than not was rewarded with an embarrassed squark which never failed to put an easy smile on his face.
Dazai would turn back to whatever it was he was doing and force himself to not dwell on the fact that he was lying to each and every person in the building, exceptions being Fukuzawa and Ranpo and that he would be continuing to lie ever after he was gone.
‘You don’t want to tell them?’ Fukuzawa had asked Dazai as they sat in the man's office, his voice the rough but gentle tone it had always been.
God, he’d miss this, especially when the replacement would be Mori’s laced threats wrapped up and tied with a sugary bow, but he’d made his choice just how Fukuzawa had made his and he wouldn’t let himself be swayed.
Ranpo stood by the side of their boss, eyes understanding but calculating.
Dazai had never seen the man look so serious in his life. Sometimes Dazai forgot that Ranpo was actually older than him, what with the way the man paraded around the offices similar to that of a bratty child. Now though, it was more than clear why the agency had been built around him.
‘They’ll be angry.’ Ranpo said plainly, like there wasn’t the possibility of another option.
Of course though, that's because there wasn’t.
‘I know, that's what I’m counting on.’ He retorted, blissfully ignoring the way his throat felt like it wanted to lock, like it was trying to stop him digging his own grave.
He’d actually prefer digging his own grave to this, but that wasn’t one of the outcomes he could choose.
He heard Fukuzawa sigh, it was a sad, tired thing.
‘I’m sorry it’s come to this, if there had been another way I would have-’
‘I know.’ Dazai cut the man off. He doesn’t think he has the strength to listen to all the ways his boss -soon to be ex boss- wishes he could have done things differently.
It was too late. Decisions had already been made, deals already struck, a price already placed. There was no sense in wanting things to change when they simply wouldn’t. Dazai had learnt that long ago.
‘I’m not angry, nor do I blame you.’ He tacked on in an attempt to lift some of the tension encroaching on the atmosphere.
His efforts were unsurprisingly unsuccessful.
Fukuzawa sucked in a deep breath as though what he was about to say pained him. ‘You would really prefer them to think that you betrayed us because you wanted to?’
Dazai knew he wouldn’t understand. Knew that when he came in with the proposition that Fukuzawa lie and tell the Agency that the price they would have to pay is an IOU, an IOU that would never be cashed in because the real cost would have already been paid, that he’d be hesitant.
‘I would rather them be free from the burden of me.’ Dazai quipped back.
Because no, of course he didn’t want his co-workers -his friends- to think that he went back to the Mafia willingly.
He didn’t want to envision Kunkida’s blank face as he took in the words, he didn’t want to imagine Yosano’s anger at Dazai readily switching sides like it was nothing, like the Agency meant nothing, all to go back to that man and he especially didn’t want to think about the hurt that would break across his mentee’s face and heart as yet another person left him without a second thought.
But above all else, he didn’t want them to suffer. He didn’t want them to run themselves ragged trying to get him back. He didn’t want Kunikida to put his whole soul focus on freeing Dazai from the Mafia, he didn’t want Yosano to feel guilt over him being the one to go back and he certainly didn’t want to drag Atsushi anywhere near the vile place that is the Mafia, which Dazai knows is exactly where Atsushi would go, hell, he’d probably try and fight the whole of the Port if it meant that Dazai would get to go home to them.
And Dazai just could not, under no circumstances ever, allow that.
So for as much as he really doesn’t want to go back and for as much as he really wishes that he could go knowing that they still love him, it’s for the best that it’s done this way.
No lingering threads of care or responsibility connecting them. A clean cut.
He could see Fukuzawa almost charge up, like he was getting ready to hit Dazai with every argument under the sun as to why he should reconsider.
Dazai simply sat, waiting to take it. He’d listen but it wouldn’t change his mind.
‘Dazai.’ Ranpo interrupted. His voice gave nothing away.
Dazai felt his eyes drift back over to Ranpo, where they met the man's own where they sat hidden behind the glasses.
The silence was tense as Dazai sat ready to take anything Ranpo gave him. Good or bad.
‘Thank you.’ Finally came Ranpo’s admission.
It wasn’t the teasing thanks he was used to getting off the man it was so serious, so sincere.
That's when Dazai knew that Ranpo got it. He understood. That meant more to him than he’d probably ever be able to explain.
He watched as Fukuzawa’s eyes flicked from Ranpo to Dazai to Ranpo. Understanding dawned on the man's face. Clearly realising that no matter what he said, it would make absolutely no difference.
‘Alright then.’ Came the defeated voice, though it wasn’t any less rough and more importantly, it wasn’t any less soft. ‘If that’s what you want.’
It wasn’t what he wanted, not by a long shot. But it didn’t make it any less needed.
Which is why now, a few days after that conversation he knew it was time.
The office went silent as Fukuzawa entered. They were all seated in the meeting room, the big board that had this been a regular day would have been filled with mission plans and maybe some doodles now sat bare and blank. It seemed as though everyone held their breath in anticipation and dread.
‘Good morning.’ Fukuzawa started. Dazai couldn’t help but disagree, this wasn’t a good morning, in fact it might be one of the worst he’s had in a long time. ‘As you all know, as a necessary evil to ensure the defeat of the Decay of Angels, we required the aid of the Port Mafia and because of that, Mori’s entitled to a demand of his own.’ If the room wasn’t already frigid it was now.
In the corner of his eye he watched as Atsushi tensed at the mention of a demand and he physically had to stop himself from reaching out and placing a gentle arm around the kid's shoulder.
He clasped his hands together in front of him in a vice grip just a precaution.
Can't do that when we’re on opposing sides’ he thought to himself bitterly.
Because that's what's going to happen isn’t it? Because despite the ‘truce’ between the Port Mafia and ADA, it would be short lived and even if it wasn’t, they’d never trust him again, not after today.
‘Do we…’ Kunikida started from where he was seated across from Dazai, before clearing his throat, his voice now sounding that slight stronger. ‘Are you aware of what the Boss of the Mafia wants?’
‘Yes.’
With that the room erupted into chaos. People turned questions to each other, some turning them to the President himself, one thing they all had in common however, was that they were all speaking over each other in a jumbled mess.
Through it all though, Dazai pin pointed on voice. Atsushi’s panicked ramblings broke through all the other noise, or at least it did for Dazai.
Hearing the kid he’d grown to care so deeply and strongly for in such distress sent a wave of distress through Dazai’s own being though he tried not to let it shine through his otherwise detached expression.
This time however, no force on this earth would have stopped him from putting a reassuring hand on his mentee’s shoulder. Atsushi met his eyes and not for the first time he understood why he loved this kid.
Atsushi had very quickly wormed his way into Dazai’s cold heart. Since their first meeting on the river bank when a young boy had saved a stranger from drowning, he’d known there was something special about the boy.
He’d originally thought that that thing was the tiger. Now however, he understands that what makes Atsushi Nakajima special, is himself.
By just being the good, kind, feisty person he is.
The two had quickly grown closer, Dazai inviting him out for Chazuke or a trip to the arcade and Atsushi in turn inviting Dazai over to try some new recipe that the boy had been attempting to recreate or to watch a movie.
Whatever it was, you very rarely found them apart now. Dazai found himself not on only one occasion hoping that this is what Odasaku thought of him, that Oda cared as deeply for him as he does Atsushi.
And now Dazai was about to ruin it. Or well no, this was Mori’s fault but Atsushi wouldn’t hate Mori, just Dazai.
That thought turned his stomach and he very quickly found himself fighting back bile.
‘QUIET.’ Fukuzawa’s booming voice erupted, hastily silencing the noise. ‘In exchange for the Port Mafia’s help Mori Ougai had insisted that an IOU be placed.’ He finished.
This seemed only to cause more uproar.
‘An IOU?’ Yosano stared, anger clear in her tone. ‘What so we still don’t even know what he could ask of us?’
‘As of now, no.’ Ranpo answered.
‘And what if he asks us to do something illegal?’ Kunikida interjected. ‘Like take out one of the Ports enemies.’
Well that won’t be an issue considering the IOU isn’t even real, Dazai’s mind supplied.
‘I can assure you, it will not be anything like that.’ Fukuzawa appeased.
‘Can you be sure?’ Yosano started up again.
‘I am certain.’ Fukuzawa clarified. Dazai didn’t miss how his eyes fell to him briefly.
Okay yeah. He got the message. It’s now or never.
With a strength he didn’t know he possessed, he removed his hand off his mentee’s shoulder, instantly mourning the warmth.
He saw as Atsushi looked over at him confused and pushed down the pang in his heart that was screaming at him.
It's now or never. It's for the best. It’s for them. For him.
‘Right.’ He clapped abruptly bringing everyone's attention onto him. He tried not to crumble under the pressure. ‘This has been fun and all….but I’ve got to bounce.’ He exclaimed cheerfully, rising out of his seat.
‘Bounce? Bounce where?’ He heard Atsushi ask confused.
Why was he confused? It wasn’t like this was out of character for him.
It was then that he remembered that it was a Tuesday and almost religiously, every Tuesday they would go out and get lunch together at that cute little cafe shop that Dazai loves.
Mindlessly he looked to the clock before he could stop himself and realised that it was round about that time now, after this meeting was done it would have been near the time they’d typically go.
And not for the first time today, he wished he could stop.
But he couldn't, he knew he couldn’t.
Mori had already been uncharacteristically kind in letting him have the time to get his ducks in a row, to leave the ADA on his terms. Or maybe the man just wanted to watch Dazai destroy the little good things he had in his life by his own hand.
But whatever the reason was, didn’t matter. Dazai was out of time and Mori out of patience.
The man expected him in his office tonight to reinstate him into the fold properly.
And so he pushed forward.
‘Dazai you can’t just leave, not when it’s this important.’ Kunikida pushed.
He’s right. It is important, so very important. Which is exactly why Dazai has to leave.
‘This no longer concerns me.’ He replied casually, waving Kunikida off.
‘What do you mean this no longer concerns you?!’’ Kunikida parroted, voice rising in anger. ‘You're a part of this team are you not?!’
‘Nope.’ Dazai popped the P. ‘Not anymore.’
The room went deadly silent. The only thing filling the otherwise dead quiet was the ticking of the clock in the background.
Like a bomb, Dazai mused. Fitting, considering he was about to blow his whole life up.
‘What do you mean?’ He heard Atsushi ask.
Dazai didn’t turn around, couldn’t face the confusion and possible hurt in his eyes.
‘I mean what I said.’ He allowed his voice to drop out of its cheery tone and into something more reminiscent of the Demon Prodigy, not that anyone in this room knew who that was, and god, did he hope they never do. ‘Dostoevsky is gone, there's nothing more that this Agency can offer me.’
‘What do you mean? Dazai you're not making any sense.’ Came Kunikida’s voice, though it was no longer angry, it was almost bordering on worry.
It was now that Dazai decided to spin around, allowing a hollow grin to shape his face.
‘Why my dear Kunikida, I mean now that the rats are gone, I have no use for any of you. Mori’s offered me my place back as an Executive and I feel more than inclined to take it.’