Chapter Text
Dazai rolled over in his bed slightly, the warm blankets refusing to move with him. The brunet jolted sightly from the cold, his eyes opening in shock at the cold that had attacked him out of nowhere. He was in a fancy apartment, one that looked kind of like Chuuya’s, the light from the windows had already started to creep across the bedroom floor. And Dazai’s muscles were on fire.
“Dazai?” A voice sleepily asked from his right, “Wha’re you doing in my apartment?”
The chibi must not yet be awake enough to punch him out of the country. Well, that was a plus. On the downside, the way things were going, it looked like he might be that lucid soon. Well, so long life. He wouldn’t miss you.
“I don’t know chibi. Maybe I was kidnapped forcefully last night? Maybe I can ask my kidnapper to kill me!” Dazai’s voice seemed off, but he decided not to care. It was probably just whatever drug they injected to his system messing with his vocal chords.
Dazai looked back at Chuuya, only to be greeted by a surprising sight. “Chibi…” Dazai frowned, “did you, by any chance, cut your hair?”
Chuuya looked at him, and scoffed, “I don’t know what happened to your brains, but if you remember, I’ve spent the past five years growing my hair out. I don’t think I’d just cut it.”
“Then… why is it short?”
“It- wha-?” Chuuya felt the back of his head, apparently checking to see if his hair was still there. Oh, how Dazai wished he had a video camera. This was prime blackmail material.
The sun rose higher across the room, until Dazai could finally see Chuuya’s face clearly. He looked… short. Well, shorter than usual, and his cheeks had more baby fat than they had what seemed like just yesterday. Heck, he looked exactly like he did when he was… when he was fifteen.
Gasping, Dazai put his hand to his eye, which he found covered by light filmy bandages, the same kind he had worn until he left the mafia. He hadn’t noticed them due to the fact that he couldn’t see out of that eye anyway. What on earth had happened? They woke up just as they used to post missions, Dazai wearing his port mafia attire, and Chuuya looking younger, and wearing that scruffy old mafia standard suit. Wow, was Dazai glad that time was over.
Because it was over… right? Chuuya looked younger, Dazai had bandages over his eye, they were both in Chuuya’s apartment…
Jolting out of this thoughts, Dazai assessed the room, “Hey hatrack!” Dazai made a show of searching the room for the teeny tiny now-teenager, only to find that the ginger had left the room.
“Chuuuuuyaaaa.” The brunet called, lazily wandering after his partner, “I think I figured it out. Oh, Chibi~”
“SHUT UP, DAMMIT!” The tell tale shouts of the redhead echoed throughout the kitchen. “…What have you figured out?”
Ha, the slug always has been predictable, Dazai grinned to himself, “Well Chuuuyaaaa, I’d say. Based on overwhelming evidence, that we have been sent back in time!”
“You’re joking.” Chuuya froze, shooting the bandaged boy an incredulous glare, “How did you even come to that- you know what? I don’t want to know.”
“Hey slug.” Dazai draped himself lazily over the counter, smirking as Chuuya hummed in exasperation. Then, with a completely straight face, he paused and said, “Xx@#%—%€♤.”
Chuuya nearly choked on air. “HOW DO YOU EVEN PRONOUNCE THAT!?”
Ah yes, Dazai has missed the days where he could shorten his chibi’s already nonexistent fuse. It had always been one of his few joys in life, and right now wasn’t any different.
“As fun as this is, my chibi hatrack, we should probably get to work before the boss gets suspicious~ And probably figure out this time travel situation.”
Chuuya rolled his eyes, “That’s why I made you food, idiot. Eat.” Dazai instinctively ducked under the food Chuuya had sent flying to the table, getting back into the old routine.
“You do know that if you hit my head, it all would have fallen to the floor, right?” Dazai grinned, happy to be back in their post mission banter. The new hostility he had with his chibi had been foreign, it was nice to be able to fall into old patterns. “I wonder if the plate flying into my head would be enough to kill me~” It shouldn’t be, but sometimes unorthodox methods got good results.
Chuuya grumbled at Dazais shenanigans, dragging himself over to sit at the table beside his partner, “I put crab in it for you, eat.” the brunet rolled his eyes, but did as his partner suggested. If wouldn’t be good for Chuuya to die from a blood pressure induced heart attack now, would it?
Hmmmm, blood pressure… Maybe that would work?
“Hey Chuuya,” Dazai asked, “Do you think Atsushi and Akutagawa were dragged back with us? They were on that mission too.”
Chuuya hummed a little, “I think they might be. We should look for them. The weretiger was in that terrible orphanage at the edge of the slums right?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
***
It was official, this was the worst day in Atsushi’s life. Well, not the worst, worst, but still bad. Passing out in the middle of a mission and waking up here of all places?
The heterochromic boy sat in a concrete room that could easily be described as a cell, chained to the wall. Atsushi was sure that he felt smaller too, but without being able to move, he had no way of telling. His body ached all over, cold and bruised, an especially sore spot being on his left knee, which was strange. Was Atsushi sure that Akutagawa didn’t cut his leg off again?
No? Fantastic.
The sun rose higher into the rapidly lightening sky, and entered the small window he had, illuminating the room with bright white light.
This used to be the time where the headmaster would come and get him, back when he really was in the orphanage. Maybe he was having a traumatic flashback again?
That didn’t work. He was still coherent, and despite the dislike for the place he was in, he wasn’t experiencing heightened emotions or anything. There was not really anything happening. No person telling him that he was useless, no stern words from the headmaster…
It was like a bad dream, except the plot hadn’t started yet, only the parts that no one remembered, because they weren’t worth remembering.
A clunk in the hallway leading to this wretched place had Atsushi on high alert. Was anyone there? Was he maybe put in a simulator that showed him his worst memories?
An ability? Was that what this was? Hopefully not, as Atsushi remembered Dazai being there with them during the- the fight.
The last thing that Atsushi could remember was a joint mission between the agency and the mafia. Dazai, Chuuya, Atsushi and Akutagawa had all gotten taken by the light and then he had woken up back here. So it was an ability. Or it was technology, but with the way things had been going, it was more likely to be yet another evil mastermind.
More noises in the hall confirmed his suspicions. Someone was coming. Slowly going limp and looking at the floor, like all the life was drained out of him.
It was the headmaster, he was sure of it.
“Lets go weretiger,” a voice broke him out of the slump he was in.
Looking up, Atsushi peered quizzically at the familiar poorly cut bangs, “Akutagawa?” He asked, wincing at his rusty, high pitched voice.
“Who else would it be, Jinko?”
Atsushi tilted his head as he furrowed his brow at his reluctant partner, “You look weird.”
And it wasn’t even a lie! Akutagawa seemed out of proportion somehow, he had a dip oh hair hanging between his eyes, kind of like Dazai-san’s. The mafioso’s eyes seemed a bigger as well. He almost looked younger, which Atsushi thought was strange, because the last time that he had checked, the mafioso was twenty and not able to age backwards.
Akutagawa rolled his eyes, “I will explain later, once we’re out of this godforsaken place.”
***
Akutagawa had woken up in a place he hadn’t been in a long time, the slums of Suribachi city, with Gin huddling close to his side for warmth.
Her sweet sleeping face brang nostalgia, the way she mumbled in her sleep and curled closer to his spindly frame. She wasn’t much either, three years younger than him. She seemed tiny.
Thinking about it, even in the present time, she wasn’t this much smaller than him, and he hadn’t been in the slums since he was- oh. Since he was fourteen. Gin certainly looked young enough to be eleven years old.
Carefully, as not to wake up his sister, Akutagawa examined his hands. Unexpectedly, he wasn’t wearing his jacket that he had kept in the mafia, instead, he was clothed in an old, too big shirt, ill fitting pants, a scruffy grey jacket and a scarf that he and Gin were using as some sort of pillow.
This was the ragged outfit he had worn the day that he had met Dazai-san.
The now-boy thought back to his last memory, a joint mission, against an ability user. So that’s what happened. From what Akutagawa could figure out, the others were probably in the same position that he was. Akutagawa sighed. He would have to go find the Jinko, wouldn’t he. Honestly, Akutagawa was starting to think that he was a better detective than half the people at that stupid agency.
Ryuunosuke recalled the way Jinko spoke about the orphanage—curt, bitter, as if just the thought left a bad taste in his mouth. He never shared details, only that the headmaster was dead. But even then, Akutagawa could tell. Some things didn’t fade so easily.
On his shoulder, Gin stirred, waking up with a yawn that Akutagawa had no business finding adorable, “Ryuu,” she muttered sleepily, before sitting straight up. Her hair was cut short, and her large grey eyes blinked slowly, as if getting rid of the sleep.
“Hello, Gin.” Ryuu allowed himself a small smile—so small he almost didn’t notice he was doing it.
Gin blinked up at him sleepily, rubbing her eyes. “What time is it?”
“Morning.” Ryuu paused, considering his words. “I… have somewhere to go today.”
Gin tilted her head like an innocent puppy. “Where?”
He hesitated. “The orphanage. The one on the outskirts.”
His sister looked at him, confused, “I thought you were trying to get revenge for your friends?” she asked, and honestly, Ryuu had almost forgotten about that.
“Later, this is more important.”
Gin reluctantly let him stand up, “Okay, but don’t be too long.” Ryuu smiled slightly at her. He had forgotten how clingy she used to be.
It had rained the night before. Ryuu actually had to concentrate in order to stay upright at the speed he was moving. The Jinko better pray that the orphanage Ryuu was heading towards was the right one, because the coat manipulator certainly wasn’t going to drag himself to every damn orphanage in Yokohama.
Ryuu quickly approached the building, which wasn’t that far from where he had woken up. The metal fence of the building was spiked, hiding a vast building, with a uneven stone path leading to looming doors. Ryuu quickly scaled the bars of metal, letting himself down, quietly landing in the damp, overgrown grass. Dragging himself through the undergrowth, Ryuu made it to the building without being spotted. Maybe being a tiny teenager had it’s perks.
Given the fact the it was eight in the morning, he doubted anyone would see him anyway. The weretiger better be in there because Ryuu was sacrificing a lot for him. Like his dry clothes. And the warmth his small shelter that he and Gin shared brang.
Ryuu shuffled through an open window, landing in a barren room that was seemingly being aired out. What kind of orphanage was this? It was almost like the author needed to advance the plot but didn’t know how. Ryuu shook his head a little, confused. Where did that come from?
The door to the room was open, Ryuu noted as he scouted the cold room for clues. He was turning into one of those idiot detectives.
Walking through the door, the ability user was assaulted with sub-zero heat levels. It shouldn’t be legal to have this little heat in a place for children. He skillfully ignored that he wasn’t in any place to lecture people on what is legal and what isn’t. His only focus should be finding the Jinko. Who was probably in this building.
The black haired boy turned the corner into a colder room, more of a cell. He instinctively grabbed the scarf that hung around his neck. The Jinko better pray that he was in here.
Ryuu looked around the room and sure enough, a small, white haired boy was chained to the wall. Ryuu almost winced. He would have if he hadn’t seen the victims of the mafias interrogation, “Let’s go weretiger.” his sharp voice broke through the cold silence.
“Akutagawa?” Atsushi’s voice was broken and wobbly, rusted from underuse. His head tilted a little, “You look weird.”
Ryuu almost facepalmed. As it was, he rolled his eyes, “I’ll explain after we get out of this godforsaken place.” he used Rashomon to cut through the chains holding the weretiger.
The two children half ran, half walked out of the orphanage, Atsushi stumbling on legs unused to movement, Akutagawa hurrying him. The two left through the same window Ryuu had come in through, helping each other through it. Ryuu couldn’t help but think, almost ridiculously, that the Jinko was a lot smaller than him. If they had truly become younger, he would be around twelve at the moment, while Ryuu was fourteen. The Jinko was only a year older than Gin and- Pay attention Ryuu! He scolded himself, using the nickname Gin had picked out for him.
The two ran through damp grass, the sun breaking through the darkness, shining raw rays of light into their eyes. Outside the iron gates, Ryuu could see two familiar figures, standing close together, in coats. The shorter had a hat and the taller seemed to be wrapped in bandages.
Of course, the Jinko spoke first, voice layered in confusion, “Dazai-san? Chuuya-san? Do you know what happened to us?”
The taller of the two —Dazai-san— sighed, “The current theory is that we have been sent back in time. We don’t know how, but we have been. The other theory is that this is a mass hallucination.”
Ryuu bit his lip, if they truly were back in time, what had sent them there, and how could they get back?