Realization of laughter!! :3 1/?

This is still angst I just felt silly. Also the realization part is more abt the fact I realized most of this book will be me projecting onto dazai 🧍‍♂️minor rant rq: Dazai is an alcoholic. I hate how the fandom only acknowledges Chuuya as one. Dazai and chuuya are both alcoholics. Stfu if you disagree /hj

Oh maybe minor Kunikidazai if you squint, turn sideways, and fall over

Erm!! Mostly based off of like him masking his true emotions so idk 

Tw for self harm

Dazai is my lil pookie wookie :3

Also, most of my fics are hurt no comfort, this is hurt comfort :3

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Dazai smiled a lot. Didn't really mean much to him, but he presumed it made others believe he was okay. He really wasn't, but smiling made it better. 

He did a lot of things he didn't mean. Said a lot of things he didn't mean, too. Almost everything he did wasn't really what he meant. He was a good actor. He even mostly had Ranpo fooled, even if it was harder. Putting up a facade, if you do it long enough becomes easy. That's true for most things, he supposed. 

He sighed, resting his hand in his palm as he zoned out, staring at Kunikida. Kunikida was a much better worker than him, at least in this job. He always told Dazai off for being lazy, or just doing things he shouldn't be doing on the job. Whatever, it's not like it matters in the long run. He knows he does fine, even if sometimes he does stupid shit. 

It seemed he zoned out for too long, because he felt someone shaking him "Dazai! Get out of the office, it's time to go home." "Sorrryyy Kunikida~" "Just shut up and leave!" He smiled and got up, opening the door to the office and leaving. 

He arrived at his door, opening it and walking towards his bed and sitting down. He tilted his head back, looking up at the ceiling for a moment before closing his eyes. He smiled, not genuinely, but he smiled. He looked back down, glancing at the bandages carefully wrapped around his arms, thinking back to when Chuuya would have helped him with the bandages. He exhaled, removing the bandages off both of his arms and staring down at the scars that scattered across his arms.

He stared at them. He could ruin this. He hadn't done this in a while. There was a lot of faded scars now, and majority of the scars were healing as he stared down at them. He could just.. ruin this. With one slash of a knife, anything sharp really, he could ruin something he was proud of. He doesn't deserve things he's proud of. He doesn't deserve a lot of things. To be called human, to live, to have true happiness, just to name a few. He felt sick all of a sudden, tearing his gaze away from his arms and squeezing his eyes shut as the nauseas feeling diminished slowly. He sighed, getting up and walking towards his bathroom to grab two things. 

He arrived, immediately grabbing a razor and a roll of bandages, leaving the room quickly and sitting on his bed. He glanced at the razor he had just placed next to him, along with the bandages. His eyes drifted away from the items, though his mind ran too fast for him to stay focused on one thing. He grabbed the razor and drew a line across his arm, the feeling of pain almost like a release from the numbness he consistently felt each day. He drew another line, and another, and another. There were about 7 wounds bleeding out on his arm before he pulled the razor away with a shaky hand.

He stared down at his arm, almost feeling disoriented from stopping. It gave him feeling when he cut. He grabbed the roll of bandages beside him and wrapping them around his injured arm. He laid down with his arms spread out, closing his eyes for a moment. He opened them again, staring at the bottle of alcohol beside him.

...


The morning arrived, an agonizing pounding in his head. He couldn't fully remember last night, though staring down at the crimson patched spread across his bandages, he could tell at least some of what happened. He removed the bandages from his left arm, staring down at the now trying to heal cuts that were on his arm. He sighed as he replaced the bandages, feeling regret over his actions. He pulled his sleeve down over his arms, in case the blood escaped and stained his bandages.

 He grabbed his coat and put it on, walking towards the door slowly. Each time his sleeves gently brushed against the bandages, a sharp pain escaped from his arm. He opened the door, and stepped outside. He inhaled deeply, the air from outside felt like a cure for the poison that was his house.


He made it to the office, trying to tune out the voices that echoed his name. He sat down across from his partner, glancing at him for a moment before looking down at his legs. He felt an aching pain spread across his left arm and he sat. "Dazai, stop slacking off and get to work." He smiled at Kunikida. he ignored what the other had said, however. Trying to distract himself from the pain he tried to remember last night, or how many cuts there were on his arm. 

He managed to remember how many cuts were on his arm by thinking back to the morning. About 13. Most were shallow cuts, but a couple of them were deeper. He made a fist with his hands, a small amount of anger was spiralling within him. Why did he have to ruin this? He was clean for so long, and he just decided to cut. God he's so fucking stupid sometimes. "Dazai!" "Yeah Kunikida~?" He smiled at his partner, an empty gesture at this point. "Get to work, you keep zoning out today.." Atsushi glanced at Dazai as Kunikida spoke. 

A short amount of time passed, Dazai wasn't sure how long, but he assumed ten minutes by the time Atsushi finally spoke to him. "Hey..Dazai, are you alright..? You seem a bit off today.." Dazai smiled. "Of course I'm fine, why do you ask?" "..Your arm is a bit shaky, and you're like..zoning out more than usual.." a sudden realization hit him. He was good at hiding pain usually, but apparently not this. "Just feeling a bit down" "O-Okay-.. let me know if you wanna talk, okay? I could ask Yosano to help with your arm-? I know her ability doesn't work on you but she's still a doctor an-" "I'm fine, Atsushi." ..Atsushi nodded reluctantly, though opened his mouth to say one more thing. "..I smell blood on you." Dazai froze for half a second, his body struck with sudden fear. He quickly returned to a relaxed position, leaning back into his chair "oh that.. I accidentally cut myself  with a kitchen knife last night when I was cooking." Atsushi nodded. "Oh-! Sorry I was bothering you about it, then.." "it's fine, don't worry about it Atsushi." Atsushi looked back at his paperwork, a trace of doubt still lying in his mind. 


The end of the day came, relief washing over Dazai. He had had a particularly bad day today, apparently unable to hide his pain. What a weak thing he was. The stinging feeling usually was more bearable, but even with his pain resistance he had gotten used to not cutting. It made it harder to hide his pain. Which is why Yosano-sensei approached him as he was leaving "Dazai." "Yosano-sensei, what brings you to me?" He smiled, though the smile felt like it was weighing him down further. It seems smiling no longer produces an effect worth his time, at least not for him. "Atsushi alerted me of you having some strange behaviour today, I just wanted to make sure you were okay." "..Oh. I'm fine, he's just worried about something small." He waved to Yosano, reaching for the door. He flinched lightly as he felt a hand grasp his shoulder "and what might that thing be?" "Oh, I just..cut myself  by accident with a kitchen knife yesterday, I would tell you if I needed aid, doctor." He smiled.  Yosano nodded, letting him leave. Despite this, she would later alert Ranpo of the strange encounter, unbeknownst to Dazai.


Dazai finally reached his house, dragging himself to his washroom as he scoured the cupboard above the sink for his razor, a feeling of bloodlust overcoming him. He grabbed the razor, not bothering to move from his washroom as he let his coat fall off of his body, onto the cold floor of the small space. He rolled up his sleeves, staring down at the slightly amber bandages on his left arm. He ignored them, removing the bandages from his right arm as he set down the razor for a moment. He quickly picked up the razor. He wanted this. He needed this. It made him feel human, it made him feel. What is Osamu Dazai if not someone who cuts? He wasn't sure. He was never sure of who he was. Cutting felt like part of whoever Dazai was, though. 

Just as the blade touched his skin, just barely piercing it, but enough to cause the skin to tear, leaving a small amount of blood to drip out from his wrist. He heard a loud knock on his door, causing him to pull down his sleeve, putting down the razor on the bathroom counter. He grabbed his coat and quickly put it on as he walked towards the door, surprised to be greeted by Kunikida. "Kunikida~ what a nice surprise! What is it that owe the pleasure?" He smiled at the blonde male. "..Ranpo told me he suspected something" "oh? Do we have a mission? But it's after hours.. I wanted to get my sleep in.." he laughed absently, tugging at the sleeve of his coat, feeling as if he didn't have enough coverage without his bandages. "..No, it's about you." "And what may that be?" Kunikida grimaced, looking down for a moment. His mind drifted, trying to figure out how to word this. He knew Dazai would deflect, so how could he get him to acknowledge this.. "He, and.. myself, have reason to believe you may be..engaging in.. self destructive behaviours.." he gestured towards Dazais arm. "Oh..Why's that? I don't really know what you're talking about, Kunikida~" Kunikida sighed. "I..We.. you have apparently been acting off today, like your arm shaking or.." he paused. "You just.. you wear bandages, and it's a bit weird, and you have a shaky arm- we just-" Kunikida was cut off by Dazai "Awh.. Kunikida's  worried.. I'm fine, don't worry. I believe I explained this to Atsushi, but I just cut myself  by accident with a kitchen knife yesterday. Bandages are a fashion choice!" Kunikida groaned "Of course they are.. okay, thanks for your time, Dazai.." "Of course, Kunikida!" He raised his arm to wave to the other, though quickly decided not, worried his sleeves could slide down and reveal everything he just denied.  He pulled his arm back to his side. Kunikida took a mental note of his partners odd behaviour during this encounter.

The door closed, and Dazai exhaled deeply, walking back to the bathroom. Dazai often avoided his bathroom unless he was cutting. He hated the mirror in it. Not like it was much of a problem anymore. He smashed it to bits after having an..episode. He rolled up his sleeve, staring at the now dried blood from his previous week attempt to cut. He dragged the razor across his arm again, though quickly found the pain to be enough for him. He felt slightly light headed, a sudden realization hitting him. 

He cut too deep. 

He could die.

Dazai felt numb, but part of him wanted to call someone. He wanted to say goodbye. Or maybe he could call the ambulance. 


The phone wrang for a couple seconds before an annoyed Kunikida answered. 

Dazai was hastily wrapping bandages around his right arm as blood pooled up on his counter, dripping onto the already blood stained floor. 

"Dazai, what do you need?" Kunikida was working on reports as he glanced at the phone, on speaker so he didn't have to put too much mind into the call. 

"Oh.. Just wanted to chat before something happens." Dazai said, a sweet tone hiding the bitter topic that Kunikida wouldn't come to realize just yet.

"Dazai, what are you talking about?" He said, an annoyed expression laying on his face. He regretted answering his colleagues call. 

"What do you think an 'ideal' method of suicide would be?" Dazai asked, trying not to state explicitly what was happening. He had finished frantically bandaging now, feeling less about to die and more just calling to try and prevent himself from actually dying tonight.

Kunikida sighed "You've asked me this before. There is no 'ideal' suicide, because suicide isn't ideal. What do you want, Dazai?" 

"You know what, this call was probably a mistake, goodbye Kunikida." He hung up, staring down at the red bandages.

He would have to do a lot of bandage changing tonight, not that that matters with his sleep schedule.


He didn't sleep a lot that night


———

This will be continued, but putting it in one part felt wrong sooooooo


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