Archive of Our Own ^beta

Doppo typed up reports on his laptop at a rapid pace, his hands flying across the keys as though he only had a minute to finish each page. Typing in the office in his chair at his desk- this is what should have made things feel normal. This is what should have stopped his fear and worry.

He continued to write as he willed himself to forget that this hadn’t been the norm for a while. Only a few months ago, he had been a criminal on the run, getting his hands blown off, and almost dying on a daily basis.

Despite the fact that everything was over, that Fyodor was dead, the Agency re-established, and the Hunting Dogs along with the government off their tails, Doppo couldn’t help but notice the distinct change in the office. The unease that lingered on everyone’s shoulders apparent with every passing day.

Everyone was just a little more jaded than they had been before the event.

Kyoka didn’t take as much interest in sweets as she had before, and it took much more coaxing from Ranpo to try new ones than it did before. More than ever, she was attached to Atsushi by the hip. At times, she would do random head counts, her eyes scanning over the room to make sure everyone was accounted for.

Dazai had stopped joking about suicide as often as he had before. This was only after he saw the relief and heard the cries of joy from the agency when he was found to be alive after the whole fiasco. Finding out that people actually valued his life had to have been surprising. (It didn’t make it easy joke about suicide after Kenji had literally burst into tears the first time Dazai had made one of the jokes for the first time after the incident).

Ranpo could be seen doing work, which was a miracle in and of itself. Maybe sitting around the office had made anything bad that had happened impossible to ignore. His focus had to be on anything but nothing.

Yosano had locked up her wine store and threw away the keys, saying she was doing so so that the wine could age. Everyone knew that wasn’t the reason she’d done it. There were reasons to get drunk besides fun now, and that was dangerous.

Junichiro was jumpier than ever before, but during battle he didn’t push back his bloodlust. Not when he knew what holding back could cost the others in the agency. He’d quickly become one of their best combative agents.

Naomi’s antics were much less disturbing and happened much less often. Instead, she was subtle and gentler. Doppo was sure she could sense her ‘brothers’ worsened skittishness.

Atsushi was hardened by the world before, but now it showed in his eyes. The light in them had simmered to something quieter and more tired. He kept his nervous demeanour, of course, but he acted like he held something heavier on his shoulders than before.

Fukuzawa led with the same determination, but it was easy to see his pain when his face was overshadowed with grief. One didn’t simply get over the death of someone so close to them in a month or two. There were days Ranpo would come into the office and announce Fukuzawa was busy that day and wouldn’t be able to attend any meetings. He wasn’t busy. No one commented on it.

Kenji, though he was still optimistic, would get a haunted look when he thought no one could see his face. His hand would go to his sides, and he would tremble, a though remembering every single stab wound he had procured.

Doppo pretended he didn’t see the change. Even though the tension in the office was palpable most days. Everyone knew nothing was going to go back to normal. But, he could adjust to it without talking about it.

Doppo couldn’t allow himself to acknowledge it. Perhaps because he thought if he could ignore it long enough, type faster until it was almost comedic, and push down the memories that threatened to ruin his day, things could go back to normal. Though, there was a part of him that severely doubted it.

There was no room for doubt in his Ideals, though. There was no page with those words written on it in his notebook, and therefore that meant he was not allowed to feel it.

When others were feeling it, when his colleagues were upset by something, Doppo was there for them, even if he couldn’t realize any of his own struggles. He wondered if any of them had noticed the cracks in his own demeanour. He hoped they hadn’t- there was no time slot for being comforted in his schedule. He didn’t want that.

After sitting at his desk for about four hours, Doppo finally let his hands rest. He heaved out a shallow sigh, calming his heart that had been beating a little too fast for doing absolutely nothing. Even though he let his hands rest, Doppo could still feel the slight shaking in them. But that was something he was ignoring with an even fiercer resolution. If Yosano’s ability couldn’t heal them, then there was no point in worrying over it. Even when his hands got number by the day, and when he doubted if they truly belonged to him in the first place.

(There were days right after he had regained his hands, when things had finally dyed down, where Doppo would do nothing but sit on the floor of his dorm room, staring at his hands with cold dread. These were not his hands. They did not belong to him. Why would his hands shake if they were his? Why would he feel anything but certainty when he looked at them- if they were his? They were not his hands. They were not his hands. These were not Doppo’s hands. These were foreign things, stitched to his body so he could feign a functioning form. So he could go about his day without concerning anyone else. He wanted to burn them off).

The hour of the day was around six pm, and more than half of the other agency members had clocked out already. The only other agent left in the main office area was Atsushi, which didn’t surprise Doppo. The kid always overworked himself, which was something Doppo would usually berate him for. But honestly, right now, Doppo wasn’t doing better than Atsushi when it came to working longer than one should. He understood why the boy didn’t want to go back to the dorms or out to town.

When Doppo wasn’t working, he had to try twice as hard to forget.

Checking the clock and his schedule once more, Doppo realized it was about time for him to leave. He shut off his laptop with a click, before meticulously organizing his desk, making sure to put away his color-sorted pens and plugging in his devices to charge overnight. If there was one thing he could control, it was this. Especially since that damned Dazai went home much earlier than him, which meant there was no threat to his evening organization.

Doppo picked up his over-the-shoulder leather bag, putting his phone and notebook inside.

Before he left the agency’s building, he walked over to Atsushi for a moment.

There was a line on his schedule he needed to complete before heading back to his dorm.

6:34 pm- Berate Atsushi about the dangers of overworking himself. Even if it made him a hypocrite, Doppo was going to do it anyways. At least someone would be living up to some sort of Ideal.

“Hey kid,” Doppo began, letting his face fall into a slight glare. Oh, he wasn’t upset, but he did need to intimidate Atsushi a little bit. He found Atsushi was much more difficult to get into line these days, most likely due to the events that had occurred just three months ago. They’d forced the kid to grow up when the rest of the agency had been scattered around the country. Which rendered Doppo’s scoldings into little more than something speaking of normalcy and comedy.

“You don’t need to work any overtime today. Go home and rest. Rest is crucial for the-“

“For the next day to be just as productive, I’ve got that Kunikida-san, you’ve only said it seven times,” Atsushi finished for him. Despite his slight dismissal of Doppo’s words, Atsushi still closed his laptop. “Don’t worry, I’ll be heading home soon. Kyoka wanted me to make something for dinner anyways,” he said, giving him a small smile that didn’t entirely reach his eyes. “I’m all good,”

Doppo pursed his lips for a moment before nodding. He had to trust Atsushi with taking care of himself, though he admitted that it was difficult to shift into that mindset. He had gotten used to berating him on self-care. Now it seemed Atsushi was capable of doing it himself. Doppo couldn’t let go of the normalcy of it though, of the things before the Angels had descended and wreaked havoc.

(There had been one moment, only a week after the Angels had been defeated, where Atsushi had needed the reminder from Doppo. The boy had fallen asleep at his desk, working so late into the night that no one with any sense would have been in the office at that hour. Doppo, thankfully, had woken up in the middle of the night and couldn’t go back to sleep, so he’d walked over to the office. There had been Atsushi, fast asleep, bent over his desk with his head on a pile of papers, drooling like a content cat. Doppo had only sighed, picked up the kid, and brought him back to the dorms, leaving a note on his face that was a heavily worded essay on taking care of one’s self, even during times of stress. Stupid kid).

“Alright then, see you tomorrow, Atsushi,” Doppo said. He turned on his heel and left the office building. Checking his watch once more to ensure he was still on schedule; he threw open the heavy doors- still ignoring the feeling of dread sinking into his stomach. There was no time for that.

—-

It was almost shameful that his dorm room even vaguely resembled Katai’s house at the moment.

At its cleanest, Doppo’s living space was spotless. There were at least two tidy sessions scheduled for each day, and one larger deep clean at least once every two weeks in his schedule. Though, after the incident, he’d been forgetting to schedule times for any cleaning at all. Maybe that was because every time he went to write it down, he could feel his hands begin to shake once more, and he’d be forced to put aside whatever pen he had been using. There was no surety in any of it, though.

It wasn’t as though the mess didn’t bother Doppo, it was more like he couldn’t find the motivation in his trembling hands and tired limbs to make himself move after work.

All the energy he had was instantly zapped from him the second he opened his door. He stepped into the genkan and dropped his shoes and bag onto the ground, not bothering to take anything out from the leather satchel besides his notebook. Doppo wasn't in the habit of texting anyone after work hours, so he didn’t need his phone. He barely touched it nowadays, much to the irritancy of any of his coworkers who were determined to send him random memes.

Looking around his room, the kitchen, living space, and the enclosed bedroom, he felt that same dread from earlier settle around him.

Piles of clothes laid untouched by his bedroom door. The dishes were slowly creeping out of the sink and onto the counters. There were no garbage bags laying around- those at least he made sure to throw out. It wasn’t as though he had much to throw out these days, though.

He didn’t want to clean.

There was a slot for it today, after a month of leaving things to slowly become messier, but Doppo couldn’t bring himself to care.

Would you look at that? The famously strict and tidy Kunikida Doppo, unable to simply clean the dishes, do some laundry, a sweep the floors and tidy his various other items. It should be easy to do. He’d done it so many times before. Why was it hard for him to want to do- especially now? Especially after everything had gone back to normal, and everyone else was working on being alright? Doppo hadn’t gone through half of what everyone else had. He should be able to function just fine. Nothing gave him permission to break apart and lose his control over his own household cleanliness.

(He had seen the way Kyoka had sobbed when she was reunited with Atsushi. He had seen the absolute heartbreak in the usually oh so strong President’s expression that never seemed to leave. He had heard Dazai attempting to hang himself more than usual (and had gone to stop him like always) after the incidents. He had seen Naomi come into the office looking like she had been crying. He had seen Kenji pass out after not eating for another insanely long stretch of time. He had seen their pain. He knew they were hurting. He had tried to help. They were hurt. He was not).

If he couldn’t live by his Ideals, what was he doing here?

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose before taking off his glasses and putting them on the table in the middle of his kitchen. He could feel a headache coming on, after those long hours of staring at his laptop and getting lost in the feeling of work. For a moment, he wanted to not feel anything at all. Perhaps he needed more practice in pushing things down.

If there was one person that needed to stay strong for the rest of the agency, it was him. No one expected him to be the one to break. He was the steadfast, strait-laced, strict, and orderly Kunikida. That was his place, and he wasn’t about to let anyone else notice his inadequacies.

Let them believe what he wanted them to; he wasn’t going to correct anyone. If they thought he wasn’t alright, then they wouldn’t come to him with their struggles. He wouldn’t be the one that listened to them and offered his best comfort- because no one would want to burden him with that if they thought he wasn’t alright.

(He can’t count the times he’d been the one one of the members had confided in. There was something like relief in heart every time someone told him what was weighing on them. It meant they trusted him, and that they felt safe enough to speak with him about things. He appreciated their trust. If he was supposed to be the next President, like Ranpo had been rattling off about, then that meant he should have everyone’s trust).

The thoughts made Doppo slightly nauseous, so he took a deep breath through his nose and exhaled. Remembering his breathing exercises was crucial.

Without really thinking, Doppo took off his vest and his tie, dropping them off by his bedroom’s sliding door before walking back into the dimly lit kitchen. The only lights in his house were the ones from the outside, the sun slowly setting. Orangish and yellow tinged beams spilling in from his window made everything a little too bright. He closed the blinds in his kitchen.

Sluggishly, he opened the door to his fridge. There wasn’t much in it- he had been putting off grocery shopping for the past two weeks. What was left was either mostly vegetables he hadn’t bothered to throw out, or some old cheese that wouldn’t kill him if he ate.

Did someone who failed to meet their own standards deserve even the measly amount of substance left in his fridge?

Doppo wasn’t sure, but he also wasn’t hungry anyways. (That was a lie). He shut the door with a slight slam, holding back the pent-up anger and irritation that was begging to be released, tingling under his skin and making his hands shake worse than they had been before. Why was he angry? He wasn’t sure. Doppo had gotten over (for the most part) his anger issues he had had when he was younger. The only thing that brought out his tendency to rage was Dazai, errors in his schedule, and injustice.

Surely there was no reason the only thing he was feeling was rage, right?

This was stupid.

Doppo swallowed harshly, trying to push back the tension in his throat. It was as though chains and thorns had simultaneously decided to wrap around his trachea, constricting it until he couldn’t breathe without choking.

He turned to head to his room, letting the exhaustion win. It was only 7:26 pm, and his schedule hadn’t dictated that he go to sleep yet.

But for once, Doppo couldn’t care less.

—-

There were chains on his wrists- his wrists that bled into stumps of flesh and gore. The only thing he could see was the sterile white of the room surrounding him. His feet were gone as well, sawed off as he stood on the ground, the fleshy holes burning. Pain.

He needed the pain.

The chains had thorns of metal engraved in every link, digging into his arms and his legs, winding themselves around him as he bled and bled, and the red destroyed the eerily perfect white of the room.

There was a snapping sound, and he heard something clatter to the floor, but he couldn’t see what it was. All he could see was the red. The red. The white.

What white? There was no white.

Voices without faces echoed in his ears, and he strained to remember who they belonged to. Disembodied sounds of the dead, screaming his name like a curse, like something no human should ever be subjected to knowing.

His very name itself was a curse.

Hands wrapped around the chains, pulling on them, tightening them around his chest and his throat. He could not answer the voices begging him to respond.

On the ground in front of him, lay his hands, each severed lump of flesh holding onto one half of a green book.

He drowned.

---

Doppo woke up lying in a pool of sweat, his futon’s cover thrown off to the side, and breathing as though he were sobbing. The bright clock was the first thing his eyes laid upon, flashing with the numbers 1:42 am.

He groaned in frustration, wiping the tears that had rested on his cheeks. Shuffling in his spot, he sat up and blinked blearily, trying to shake off the increasing dread and fear that had caused his heart rate to increase.

In for four, out for eight. Over and over again. He just had to breathe.

It was too early for this.

Most nights, now at least, Doppo couldn’t fall asleep for longer than two or three hours without waking up in a cold sweat. That was if he fell asleep at all. When he did fall asleep, he was often woken up by nightmares.

His nightmares consisted of the same three things, rotating on and off, all equally determined to haunt him and ruin his work day in the mornings.

The cuffs, the bombs, and the bodies. The same things over and over and over and over. Why was it always the same?!

He grit his teeth, the pressure somewhat grounding.

Doppo stood up, trying to not let the dizziness that overtook his vision pull him back into his bed.

There was a fifty fifty chance he could fall back asleep that night, and it lessened the longer he stayed awake. But his face was sticky with salt, and he couldn’t feel his hands.

The remnants of his dreams clung onto him as he staggered into his ensuite bathroom, flicking on the light switch and squinting his eyes as he turned on the tap.

The water quickly turned warm, and Doppo stuck both his shaking hands into the liquid as it rushed down. He focused on the sound of the flowing water, fast and even paced as it surrounded his hands and dripped down his wrists. His elbows rested on the cold countertop, and he stared at his hands and the water. That’s all he could do. His feet didn’t want to move; he didn’t want to move.

The nightmare tried to poke itself back into his mind, but Doppo pushed it back with harder resolve.

Focus. Focus on the water.

Steam rose from the sink and it started to move against his face, making his skin feel even more sticky than it had before. He blinked. Thankfully he wasn’t wearing his glasses.

The water heated, so much so that Doppo was sure it would be hurting his skin if he could feel his digits. It was most certainly burning him. Instead of moving his hands though, he kept them still. There was something eerily calming about the faint sting the boiling liquid brought. His skin turned pink, and then red.

After what could only be about ten minutes of wasting his money by raising the water bill, Doppo turned off the tap and flexed his hands. They were burnt. Only slightly so, multicolored dark patches painted a canvas over his white skin in a gross pattern.

He’d have to wrap his hands after putting ointment on them. That also meant he wouldn’t be able to sleep for a while longer. Which was a pain.

Doppo looked up and stared at his own face for a while, simply unmoving. Was there a point to moving from this spot? Could he fall asleep standing? He certainly felt as though he would be able to.

Then he saw their faces, in the mirror, as though they were standing behind him.

Why did they insist on appearing now?

Doppo shut his eyes, as though willing the apparitions to disappear. To leave him be. The dead were determined to ruin his life, and to drag him down with him. Perhaps he should allow them to. Then he would no longer need to resist, wasting what little energy he had left on them.

Rokozu and his father. Sasaki. The girl he’d never gotten the chance to know the name of. The people killed by the Decay of Angels. Countless other faces he’d met over the years and failed to keep safe. They crowded around him, and he felt their hands on his arms and his legs. Heard their whispers. He stopped breathing.

Time ticked by slowly.

Doppo opened his eyes after he prayed the people would be gone when he did so.

They were.

Doppo ignored the dip in his stomach and the trembling of his lips in favour of washing his face with cold splashes and then getting to fixing up his hands. He had to forget. It was the only way he could function. Forgetting.

He was fine. Everything bad that had happened to him was his own fault. He should have been able to prevent it all. Those are the words he repeated under his breath as he stood there. If he repeated it enough, he could begin to believe it.

There was an odd sense of detachment that he felt as he attended to his burns. By all means, he should be horrified he let himself be burnt, but on the other hand, he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Why couldn’t he care? He had had so much passion before. Before everything had went to shit. Before he had become a failure to his own Ideals, went against what he’d sworn he would do when his justice failed and his hands hurt others.

“Damnit,” Doppo breathed out, quiet despite the fact he was the only one living in his dorm rooms. He placed the roll of bandages down onto the sink’s counter before flicking off the lights of the bathroom, stalking back to his futon.

He found no comfort in being back in his bed.

Doppo did not sleep.

—-

“Katai-kun, if you don’t get your ass up and help me take out the trash bags, I am going to take Yoshiko from you and throw it into the dumpster,” Doppo scolded, hauling two black bags over his shoulder.

It was the afternoon of the next day, and Doppo had managed to get out of the office earlier than usual to come visit his friend. God knew the man needed someone visiting him often, especially after the whole fiasco involving the Angels.

Doppo almost felt bad for being so harsh, but pleasantries never seemed to do the trick when it came to getting Katai out of bed- and kind words didn’t always come easy to Doppo. There was an ease to the harshness, and a caring side to it as well.

“Not my Yoshiko!” Katai screeched from his room, before Doppo heard a scrambling noise as the man rushed out of the place, skidding to a stop in front of him. “Please, I’ll do anything, just don’t throw out Yoshiko-” he said.

Doppo wanted to laugh, but instead he stood his ground. Damn Katai and his theatrics. They were far less annoying compared to Dazai’s- but still. He could without them.

“Then take that-” Doppo said, pointing to the garbage bag left on the ground, “And follow me outside so we can throw it out,”

Katai picked up the bag without any hesitation, leading the way himself out to the dumpster.

Cleaning was so much easier when Doppo wasn’t doing it in his own house.

He only took a moment to wonder why.

---

He doesn’t sleep that night either, not really. He woke up in the wee hours of the morning, staring at the ceiling.

---

When he got to work the next day, Doppo was keenly aware that his hair wasn’t as neat as it usually was, and that he’d forgotten to put on his red ribbon tie. He supposed he could go without the latter, but the former was annoying. He hadn’t been able to fall back asleep, that night, and had stayed awake staring at the ceiling as he lay on his back.

The faint sting of his burns still bothered him as he signed into the office. No one had seen them yesterday, due to the fact the office had been empty for most of it.

Why the burns hadn’t healed in two days' time was a mystery to him. Maybe they were worse than he had originally thought.

He arrived at 6:33 am, three minutes later than he should have been there. He would have to rewrite his entire schedule if he kept dilly-dallying.

As he sat at his desk to begin his work, Doppo felt the sting of the burns under the bandages worsen when he began typing his first report. He should have suspected that would happen. Ah well, he could handle it until the lunch break. (He hadn’t brought a lunch).

—-

“Oooh, Kunikida-kun, are you finally taking my fashion advice? I’m overjoyed!” Dazai exclaimed as he walked into the office four hours late, his eyes wandering over to Doppo’s typing hands. “I knew you would see sense eventually,” he grinned, sauntering over to Doppo.

For a moment Doppo was confused, wondering what the fucking hell this idiot could have been talking about. Taking his fashion advice? He would never do such a thin-

Oh.

Dazai had been talking about the bandages.

Doppo let out a n’th sigh of the day. Dealing with Dazai at 12:00 pm was not what he wanted to be doing. But it seemed nothing was going his way today.

“Like I would take any advice from you,” Doppo quipped back quickly, not allowing himself to raise his tone above an indoor voice. If he let himself get riled up by the other detective, he was sure his energy and his schedule would be thrown completely off balance.

Dazai didn’t take the lack of a raise in volume from Doppo as a subtle warning to not engage in any more banter, and instead took a stand right beside his desk, a stupid smirk plastered over his features. “But it looks like you have!” Dazai exclaimed, “C’mon, Kunikida-kun, just admit it, I have superior taste in fashion. Oh lookie! You’ve ditched your tie too! Want a bolo tie? They could make anyone look dashing, even a sour guy like yourself,” Dazai said.

Doppo decided it would be best not to answer, instead going back to reading a report for the sixth time, due to the fact he hadn’t understood all of it the first five times. At this rate, Doppo wasn’t sure he’d be done even half his work by the time he clocked out at six.

“Kunikidaaaa-kuuuuun, don’t ignore me!” Dazai whined.

Doppo ignored him. He’d gotten better at ignoring people and feelings alike as of late. Dazai was difficult to drown out, but eventually the brown-haired menace sat down and stopped bothering him, deciding to poke and prode at Atsushi instead. Doppo felt for the guy.

(He had missed the worried glance Dazai had sent at his hands after he’d stopped paying attention. He also missed the look Atsushi had given the interaction, noticing the bandages for the first time that day).

—-

“I could join you,” Doppo offered when he heard Junichiro and Kenji discussing a recon mission they’d need someone else to join them for, since the client explicitly said it would be best for at least three members to go.

It wasn’t as though he needed to go with them, but he had been getting antsy anyways. The clock read 3:00 pm. He’d been sitting there for nine hours, idly attempting to do his work. He hadn’t had a lunch break either. There was no need for one since he hadn’t packed a lunch.

“Don’t you have your checkup with Yosano-san?” Junichiro asked, tilting his head back so he could look at Doppo with more ease. “I swore that was today...”

For a moment, Doppo sat there in silence, pondering the statement. What had been today’s date? He checked the calendar next to his laptop. Ah. It was the correct date.

Yosano insisted on doing two annual checkups on each of the agency members, since it was rare they got the chance to book appointments at hospitals. Having a doctor working solely for the agents was also very cheap- considering it didn’t cost a thing. Talk about benefits.

Despite all his thankfulness for the check-ups, Doppo could only feel his hands begin to shake, and his teeth clenching in slight irritation. Why the damned irritation? Couldn’t he just feel a regular nervousness?

He slashed down the simmering rage.

Yosano would no doubt ask him what had happened to his hands, and he knew he wouldn’t be capable of lying to her. Doppo was incapable of lying in general, but especially so in front of the doctor.

“I guess you’re correct, Junichiro-kun, I had forgotten about that,” Doppo replied tersely.

He once again ignored the concerned look Kenji and Junichiro shared.

“Oh, don’t worry about it! I’m sure Atsushi-kun will be alright coming with us,” Junichiro said, giving Doppo an awkward smile. Doppo couldn’t tell if it was awkward because he himself felt awkward or if it was simply strained.

Ah well, he could worry about this social interaction later when he was lying awake on his futon the whole night. No need to worry about it now.

Not when he had to think of a way to reasonably lie to Yosano about the burns. Even though he knew it would be mostly pointless, there was no harm in planning what he was going to say.

Doppo went back to his laptop, opening it, but not typing anything. He scrolled through his documents instead, thinking of anything except doing work.

Before he knew it, thirty minutes had passed, and the time marked on his calendar for the checkup arrived. If he didn’t go to the infirmary right away, Yosano would literally come over to his desk and haul him in there. She’d done it to Doppo and several other members in the past.

With a huff of exasperation, Doppo stood up, trying to blink away the black spots that made him dizzy with vertigo. Perhaps sitting for nine hours wasn’t exactly a good idea on his end.

Despite the urge he had to fall over and just lay on the ground for the rest of the day, Doppo managed to get to the infirmary without tripping and smashing his face in.

He rapped his knuckles against the door, waiting for Yosano to call him in. There was no way he was going to bust in there like some fool- the last time he’d done that…. Well… it wasn’t fun, that was for sure.

“Cmon in, Kunikida-kun!” Yosano called out from the inside.

Without another thought, Doppo opened the door and strolled in, attempting to appear casual. He pushed his glasses up from his face, them having slid down from the nervous sweat that had gathered on his skin. Fuck, him being nervous was never good. Thank god it hadn’t become unneeded rage, though. Anything was better than having some sort of outburst and embarrassing himself in the process. He needed to maintain some dignity.

Yosano was sitting at her desk, one leg crossed over the other as she rolled her chair in circles, clearly a little bored.

Yeah, Doppo should be careful not to give her a reason to use her Ability as a way to cure that boredom. The last thing that would make him feel better today was being cleaved through with a chainsaw or an axe.

He sat down on the patient’s chair bed thingy, whatever it was called. Crossing his arms and his legs carefully as he did so.

“Good afternoon, Yosano-san,” Doppo greeted, belatedly realizing he’d forgotten to do so when he walked in the first time.

Yosano smiled at him before turning towards her computer on the desk, the wheels on her chair making a scratching sound on the floor that irritated Doppo more than he’d like to admit. She booted up the computer and opened a couple tabs, and all Doppo could do was watch her in silence. Great.

“Alright, Kunikida-kun, we’re just gonna go through the basic questions and all that,” she said, finally turning to half face him, “And if you lie, I’ll be forced to use my Ability more than I’m sure you’d like,” she grinned a little manically at him.

Well, Doppo assumed this was the moment he could say he was absolutely fucking done for.

They went through the questions, Doppo answering as honestly as he could. Occasionally, Yosano would turn back to the computer and write something down, a small grimace on her face at times. Doppo was well aware some of his answers were a slight bit concerning. Especially the ones about his sleeping habits... and eating habits..

If his feeling was right, he would be getting a slight scolding. Being rebuked wasn’t very enjoyable when he was the one being subjected to it.

They finished up the questions, and Yosano finally looked at Doppo for more than a couple seconds, not having to type up anything on her computer anymore.

Doppo’s heart beat a little funnily, most likely due to the fact that Yosano wasn’t a non-perceptive person, and no doubt saw the bandages ages ago but hadn’t brought it up.

“Ohhhh, did you get hurt, Kunikida-kun? Goodness, that must mean you need me to use my Ability on you right about now! How about it?” Yosano said, her purple eyes wide with something a little insane.

Doppo shook his head, not in the mood for that, “No no, that’s quite alright, Yosano-san. They’re just some simple burns, no need to use your Ability. They’ll heal in a day or two.” He reasoned, voice a little wobbly despite his efforts. “No need to worry!”

“Is that right?” She asked, frowning for a moment. Something like realization flashed behind her eyes.

“Yes,” Doppo replied shortly.

Yosano narrowed her eyes at him, standing up and walking over to where he was sitting before grabbing one of his wrists in her hands. She rose an eyebrow as she inspected the bandages. Her mood had sobered up rather quickly.

Doppo winced at the touch.

“You sure about that? How did you burn yourself, Kunikida-kun?” Yosano said, “Don’t tell me you burnt both of your hands on accident somehow. Did you get into a fight with a fire?” She asked, her manic tone from earlier fading, instead it was laced with skepticism and concern.

Damnit.

Doppo shrugged, “I spilled boiling water on them as I was cooking,” he said, telling a partial truth. It wasn’t as though he’d really meant to done it, so it may as well be framed as an accident. It was one. Right.

The lie about the cooking was so obvious it was almost pathetic, though. He regretted it the moment he’d said it. Especially since he hadn’t eaten today. Most of the time he would bring things he cooked the next day to eat, never wasting anything left over.

The scale certainly also told another story than the one Doppo told about his eating habits.

Yosano scoffed before taking the bandages off one of Doppo’s hands. He didn’t stop her. He didn’t think he could even if he wanted to, the tiredness from the lack of sleep getting to him.

“Y’know, you’re a god awful actor, right, Kunikida-kun?” Yosano said as she finished unwrapping both of his hands, her touch gentle as she threw them out. She inspected his burns, and he couldn’t help but bite his cheek to keep himself from reacting to the pain of the touch.

“There’s no way you got these burns cooking, of all things. We both know you’re not clumsy enough or bad enough at cooking to achieve that.” Yosano said.

Doppo couldn’t help but agree with her statement. “I…” his words seemed to choke on themselves. “I didn’t...I don’t know, fuck,” he muttered out.

“Shut up, it’s alright. I can guess well enough how you got these,” Yosano sighed, “I’m a detective too, after all, and you’re not subtle,”

Before Doppo could reply to her statement, to correct her assumptions, she had left his side to fetch something from the cabinet. She had grabbed a bottle of pills, a roll of bandages and some more burn cream.

Doppo stayed silent as she applied the cream and bandaged his hands, gritting his teeth and swallowing far too often than normal to keep whatever emotions he was feeling down.

After she finished, Yosano let her shoulders relax, going to sit back in her chair after handing him the bottle.

“That’s melatonin. You said you weren’t sleeping well, so, just take one or two of those during the nights you know you won’t be able to sleep,” Yosano said, “Never more than that though, I don’t want you getting addicted or something,”

Doppo frowned at that but took the bottle and put it next to him on the counter anyways. “Alright,” he agreed easily.

Though, something else weighed on his mind for a moment, and he let the thought simmer for a second too long.

“Yosano-san, you... won’t be telling anyone how I got the burns, will you?” Doppo said, uncharacteristically quiet.

Yosano shrugged in her seat. “You don’t owe anyone an explanation, and I’m not gonna just go out and tell everyone you were being an idiot,” she said, resting an elbow on her desk with her chin propped up. “Though, I might send one of the dumbasses to check up on you occasionally from now on,”

He really wanted to protest that last point, but the fire in Yosano’s eyes was enough to stop him.

Doppo thought that would be the end of it, but Yosano opened her mouth to speak as soon as he tried to get off the bed.

“Kunikida-kun, I want you to be aware that it’s more than okay if you’re not fine,” she said, leveling him with a serious glare. Man, he was glad they weren’t enemies.

“But I am. Fine, that is,” Doppo said. He was lying through his teeth, because he barely believed that he was fine. He wanted to believe he was okay, that absolutely everything was alright, but that was becoming harder to do. Especially with the sleepless nights, the gnawing pain in his stomach from the hunger, the shaking in his hands, the images in the mirrors and standing in his halls.

“You don’t need to be, though,” Yosano said, “And don’t say something like, ‘I, Kunikida Doppo must stay strong for the agency, to live by my Ideals! Blah blah blah!’” She said, waving her hand around a little dramatically as she did her best Doppo impression.

That got something of a snort out of Doppo, though. The voice was pretty on point. “That’s not it,” He said.

“Then what is it?” Yosano pursed her lips, “Because people who are fine don’t suffer from whatever’s going on with you, Kunikida-kun,” she said, “And it’s not as though no one has noticed. Whatever you’re doing isn’t helping you. And what you’re doing is not talking to anyone about this. You’re carrying all this shit alone, while also trying to keep everyone else together,”

What she was saying was once again on point. He hated that. Doppo wasn’t the one that needed help. Everyone else in the agency had suffered far worse than he had, had been tortured and maimed and traumatized.

All Doppo had done was fail to prevent those things from happening to others.

When he had jumped out of the helicopter, determined to ease the pain in his own soul and simultaneously aid his peer’s escape, they had still ended up being hurt by the Hunting Dogs later. Doppo hadn’t died like he had been planning on doing if blocking the blast didn’t work.

(He should have died there. His corpse should be nothing but bits and pieces scattered in the woods, eaten by the crows that scavenge for meat. There would be some sort of purpose in that. His Ideals could be carried on by aiding those birds to live. What was the purpose of his life now? He had done nothing of use back at the airport. They could have succeeded without him, and all would be alright).

Those children who were killed during the incidents, and then the girl that had died because he had been too slow and stupid to stop her- they had suffered because of Doppo’s mistakes.

And here he was, being selfish and self-pitying, when really, he should just keep the memories in his head so that he can perform better the next time he is tasked with someone’s life. He should be punished for what he had failed to do, for his failure to live up to his Ideals. Ranpo should not have gotten him out of that prison.

“Atsushi-kun and Dazai-kun, of all people, came to me today about how they were worried for you,” Yosano continued speaking when Doppo didn’t respond to her statement. Had he zoned out for that long?

His chest was tight with something he couldn’t really name.

They were worried for him? It seemed he hadn’t been as subtle as he had hoped he had been.

Doppo took his glasses off his face so he could drag his hand down it, resting his palm over his eyes. He let out a weary sigh. “I haven’t been living up to my own Ideals, that is nothing anyone else has to concern themself with,” he settled on saying, knowing Yosano would want at least one answer. “But, I do appreciate their concern. I’m functioning fine, though,” he said.

Yosano gave him a flat look at that, and Doppo abashedly ran a hand through his hair. It really was messy today.

“You were three minutes late today for the first time in your three years here, Kunikida-kun. I think that’s worrying enough for us to be concerned,” she said, “And we both know that your Ideals are nearly impossible for any person to live up to. You realize your standards for yourself are extreme at times, right?”

It was something he’d heard before, and something he was sure he’d be told in the future. But he had always seen it as necessary. If he wasn’t harder on himself than he was on others, than what right did he have in expecting anything from anyone? If he wasn’t living strictly, he couldn’t expect anyone to live remotely close to his standards. That would be hypocritical. It was no one’s fault but his own that he had been failing to meet his standards of self-care and scheduled rigidness.

“If they were any lower, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself,” Doppo answered. “When I lived without my Ideals, things weren’t any better,”. Doppo rarely spoke of anything related to his past before the agency. Those days haunted him, though less so than some of the things that had occurred during his time at the agency.

If anyone at the agency had met Doppo when he was in high school or middle school, they wouldn’t believe they were the same person.

His Ideals were his grounding principles- his foundation for life- without them, he had nowhere to stand.

But hadn’t they been broken by the Hunting Dogs and the Decay of Angels? Hadn’t his notebook been torn in half and made useless? Hadn’t he faltered back then? Weren’t his Ideals already obsolete?

He couldn’t even keep his rooms tidier than Katai’s.

What was the point to all of this if he wasn’t able to meet anything he needed to do?

“I’m not saying you shouldn’t try to be a good person or to have no standards for yourself, I’m just saying that you’re crazy harsh about it,” Yosano sighed, “You need help, and I’m not taking no for an answer. You’ve gone through horrible things, and just because someone else in the agency might have gone through more trouble, doesn’t mean your issues aren’t as important or worthy of attention,” her gaze softened and Doppo felt his shoulders relax slightly, despite the bit of awkwardness he was feeling. “It’s not your job to be strong for us, we’re capable of doing that ourselves,”

He couldn’t argue with her. A part of him wanted to accept what she was saying. To take the stretched and open hand she was holding out to him.

He didn’t answer, instead clenching his (they’re not his) hands, his nails digging crescent lines into the bandages on his palms, aggravating the burns.

“I’ll think about what you said,” He finally decided on saying. It was all he could give her at that moment- a vague promise of nothing much. A maybe, a perhaps. A weak and feeble statement of something void and meaningless.

(Was that was his Ideals were, now?)

If he ever felt he deserved what she was saying he should have, he would end up going to her.

“That’s all I can ask you to do,” Yosano said, “and if you do decide to get the help you so obviously need, come talk to me and I’ll set you up with a therapist. You don’t need to feel embarrassed about it either, half the agency is going to the one I’m talking about already,” she muttered something else under her breath about wrangling the last few members into therapy as soon as she could manage it- and that made Doppo chuckle lightly.

“Thank you, Yosano-san,” he said, the bitter sweetest smile spreading across his face.

It was nice to have people care about him, no matter how much he didn’t think they should.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s no issue. It’s my job to make sure you idiots don’t drop dead from exhaustion,” she paused for a moment, “or your own stupid antics,”

Doppo couldn’t help but laugh again. It certainly would be a difficult job to keep the entire agency from dying on a regular basis. Especially with the types of people working there.

When Doppo got up and left, promising to check in with Yosano in at least two weeks about the therapist.

The tightness in his chest loosened a bit, and he could finally take a breath of air without it shaking with effort.

He clocked out of work at 4:24 pm.

—-

He wasn’t any less tired when he got back to his house and wasn’t any more motivated to clean up the dishes, the clothes, and the random books lying around his dorm. No.

The only thing he did was put away the pills Yosano had given him, and then take off his vest, throwing it on the pile of hoodies by his dresser in his bedroom.

Was there a point to trying to stay awake any longer? It was only 5:00 pm, but he could do with a good lying down, especially after the whole talk with Yosano.

Should he take her up on all of that? Would it even be worth it? He could still do his work,, could still go on missions. He was able to help Katai and his fellow agency members. If he was able to do that, why should he help himself as well? Wouldn’t it be a waste of time?

There were several logical answers he could conclude, each one a little worse than the last.

Doppo didn’t feel like thinking about that though.

Before he let himself fall onto his futon and sleep, Doppo headed to the kitchen.

Not eating since breakfast yesterday was starting to get to him, and he knew Yosano would be on his ass about it if she saw him skipping lunch tomorrow.

Before everything had happened, Doppo had consistently had meals planned and prepped for the week. They were organized by the nutritional value and quality, made so that he would eat more on the days he knew he’d be out of the agency, and eat less on days he’d just be sitting around.

Now his fridge was just as barren as it was last night. Was there a point to going out and buying something? Probably?

Though, he didn’t get the chance to ponder the thought any longer, as there was a series of short knocks on his door.

Who could be stopping by at this time? If it was Dazai, Doppo would slam the door in his face.

He really hoped it wasn’t Dazai.

He opened the door, putting one hand on his hip as he looked at who was standing there.

It was Atsushi.

Thank god.

The boy stood there, shuffling on his feet a little bit, though considerably less than he would have been a few months ago. (Part of Doppo missed the naivety Atsushi used to have, but the other part told him it was better he wasn’t foolish in that way anymore. If only the path there had been easier and kinder).

“Hey,” Atsushi said, raising his free hand to give a little wave. His other hand was occupied with a plastic bag, holding what seemed to be a few containers. “Nice evening, right?” he added on, a little awkwardly.

Doppo resisted the urge to snort at the lingering nervousness stemmed from Atsuhi’s personality.

“Hello, Atsushi-kun,” he said in reply, “What can I do for you?”

“Uhhh, well, I just happened to have too much takeout! And well, you see, it’ll go bad if I don’t eat it tonight, but man, I can’t seem to stomach all of it, I’ve ate so much already, so I thought maybe you’d want some?” He said, his voice going at a rapid pace as he tried to explain himself. The silver haired boy held out the bag to Doppo. “But only if you want, uh, you don’t have to take it, obviously.”

Since Atsushi was offering, wouldn’t it be rude to refuse? It was one of his Ideals to be polite when others were trying to show a kindness- because despite what Atsushi was trying to play this all off as, Doppo could tell he’d probably went out of his way to do this for him.

The hands which ghosted on his shoulders and ankles felt a little less real in that moment.

“Of course, thank you,” Doppo replied, taking the bag from Atsushi’s outstretched hand. “That was thoughtful of you, I appreciate it,” he pushed his glasses up.

Atsushi smiled brightly at that, his cheeks rounding into dimples. “No problem! Really, it’s the least I can do,” he said. “I hope you enjoy it,”

Doppo returned the smile, patting Atsushi on the shoulder once. “I’m sure I will.” And it was the truth. Since Atsushi has given it to him, Doppo wouldn’t waste it. Wasting things went against his Ideals.

After a few more exchanged words. Atsushi headed off to his own dorm rooms, waving goodbye to Doppo as he half walked half ran down the hallway.

Doppo would excuse the running indoors just this once.

He headed back into his kitchen and put the bags on the table, taking out the containers. There was one full of riceballs, and another holding tataki bonito. Oh. That... was surprisingly even more thoughtful than he’d first assumed. The bonito was his favorite food.

(He’d only mentioned it once, after Atsushi had been going on and on about ochazuke, and Dazai had then made it his mission to find out the favorite food of everyone in the office. Doppo hadn’t even known Atsushi had heard his answer).

The smile didn’t leave his face as he managed to eat half of the food Atsushi had given him, before stashing the rest of it in his fridge. The taste was pleasant on his mouth, a far cry from the ashy texture most of his food had been taking on lately.

Maybe tomorrow he would have some energy to clean up his dorm. That would be good, especially since he was almost certain he’d be getting more surprise visits from his fellow agency members. Once Yosano had acknowledged the fact that Doppo wasn’t exactly okay, it seemed the other members had taken it as their cue to stop pretending they weren’t worried.

Maybe it wasn’t the worst thing.

Because despite all his efforts, Doppo knew it was difficult to remain steady on a one-man boat. He’d said it to Atsushi a while ago, it felt like years had passed since then even though it’d only been months ago. If he tried to take on another person, he would fall into the water and be drowned.

Doppo had never thought it would be possible to drown alone. But now?

Maybe he could admit he was wrong back then.

—-

Doppo slept through the night after taking two of the pills.

It was odd to not worry about having noticeable eyebags for once.

—-

The next day was his day off work, so Doppo didn’t get out of his futon even when it was past the time he’d usually leave and get ready for the day. He just wanted to lay there and try to hold onto the sleep he’d gotten so much of that night.

Though, he should have suspected he’d be rudely interrupted at one point or another.

He heard the front door open in the kitchen, somehow being unlocked from the outside without anything being broken-

Oh.

Doppo didn’t want to deal with that fuckface at 8:26 am in the morning.

Instead of going to confront Dazai for breaking into his house for the seventeenth time in three years (though the first time in the past five months), Doppo let out a tried groan and shoved his head in his pillow. If he ignored Dazai enough, he would disappear. If he ignored him, he would get bored and leave. Yup. Yes. This would work. He could succeed.

“Dazai-kun, you’re lucky I enjoy my rest- or else I’d be strangling you right now,” he said, though his voice was muffled by the soft fabric of the pillow. Screw ignoring him, Dazai’s very presence made Doppo want to smash in his window. It was too early for any of this to be happening to him.

“Ah, don’t be so mean Kunikida-kun! I only wanted to say hi.” The brown-haired man said as he stepped into Doppo’s room.

Doppo refused to look up. The more attention someone gave Dazai, the worse he got.

“Sure,” Doppo replied. “That sounds like a damned lie,”

There was a short moment of silence as Dazai simply stood there, casually and quietly. Probably just staring at Doppo with that creepy blank look he got sometimes.

Oh, wait a fucking second- there was another agency member in his dorm room, something Doppo had been avoiding having happen for these few months due to the fact that it was messy and dirty and utterly unpresentable at the moment.

If Dazai commented on it, Doppo was sure he’d melt on the spot and die. Where was a bomb when he actually wanted one?

“Soooo, do you wanna go out with Ranpo-san and I? Apparently Ranpo’s a tsubame-“

Doppo let out something that sounded like it was stuck between a gasp, a sob and snort. What the hell had Dazai just said?

“And he’s got some American paying for a ton of stuff, so I thought it would be fun to go shopping and then out for lunch! All on Ranpo’s card though, of course,” Dazai explained, as though any of what he was saying made any sense.

Firstly, Ranpo was a what now? A tsubame? Since when? Doppo shook of the thought, realizing it was better not to question it. It would only give him a headache worse than the one he was sure was about to come on due to being in the mere presence of Dazai.

“You’re going to make Ranpo-san pay for all of your useless shit you’re gonna buy?” Doppo said, finally shifting his head so he could look at Dazai.

The man shook his head, “No, no, did you listen to anything I said at all, Kunikida-san? I said we’re making the American pay for it,” he said with certainty. “You’ll come, right? I promise you won’t have to pay for a thing!”

In all honesty, paying wasn’t an issue for Doppo. He’d barely spent any of his grocery savings this past month especially, and he’d neglected to go out for tea with Katai in a while. He wouldn’t object if Ranpo was going to be the one paying, though. The only issue he had with the whole thing was the fact that he’d have to get out of the futon, get ready for the day, and then exist in a social situation for a few hours.

Exhaustion forced itself down on his shoulders as he thought about it more. He’d missed going out with the other agency members, but a part of him couldn’t be bothered to try. Even though they hadn’t been out for dinner, an event, or anything fun whatsoever since the incident. A part of his heart tugged on his chest.

“I’d rather sleep,” Doppo muttered, averting his gaze away from Dazai.

“Ughhh, don’t be a bore, I swear it’ll be worth it,” Dazai begged, “I won’t make any jokes about your terrible fashion sense if you come,”

“If I stay in bed, I won’t have to deal with that anyways. Your logic is flawed, Dazai-kun,” Doppo said, resisting the urge to yawn. His stomach growled once, tightening in on itself. Was it getting so greedy after just one meal last night?

“I should have guessed that wouldn’t be enough to tempt you,” Dazai sighed, tapping his foot a little annoyingly on the ground as he brought a hand up to his chin, looking like he was contemplating something. “Oh! I know! I’ll do my work for the whole week if you come with us!”

Doppo’s eyes widened at that, and he pushed himself off the futon, so he was sitting there in his blue pajamas.

“D-did you just say you would work?” Doppo said, voice disbelieving. He couldn’t believe it. There was no way Dazai wasn’t lying. This was insane.

“Yup!” Dazai said, his smirk lazy. “I mean, if you turn down my offer I won’t blame you,” he shrugged, “But it’ll be totally worth it, won’t it?”

Doppo swore he saw something a little evil glinting behind Dazai’s eyes, but he chose not to think too much on it.

He hated how much he wanted to simply accept the request. Having Dazai doing paperwork for once instead of him loading it off onto an unsuspecting Atsushi or Junichiro would be a god-send. Goodness knew that it was hard enough for the rest of the members to handle doing the countless tasks related to the cases Ranpo solved that the detective couldn’t be bothered to do. Having Dazai’s workload done by the man himself for once would be amazing.

Doppo knew he couldn’t resist the offer. Fuck this shit, actually. This was what getting closer to Dazai got him. Torture.

“Fine, you damned asshole,” Doppo said, standing up off his futon. He began pushing Dazai out of the room by the shoulders a little roughly, “Get out of here so I can get ready,” he said, giving him another push.

Dazai let out a little cheer of triumph even as he was shoved out the door and locked out of Doppo’s room. Doppo could hear him bonking his head on the wall across from the door. Served him right.

Speaking of locks, Doppo would need to buy a new one for his front door, considering the fact Dazai had literally broken into his dorm. He hadn’t done that in a while, so he hadn’t thought he’d need to buy them.

(In the before, Doppo remembered the cold nights when Dazai would break into the dorm room, and simply sat on the floor until Doppo got up to investigate the noise, rubbing sleep from his eyes. They would talk about nothing, voices quiet and hushed until Dazai had fallen asleep. Or pretended to fall asleep. Some of those nights, Doppo couldn’t tell which it was. He never knew why exactly Dazai would come to him of all people, why he trusted him at all. Doppo wasn’t stupid, he saw the walls Dazai built around himself. He saw that. So, when he picked up the stupid man and brought him back to his own dorm to sleep, Doppo had made sure not to break any of that trust.)

Doppo got dressed and prepped faster than he would of usually, mostly because he wasn’t putting it above Dazai to break into his bedroom if he got too impatient waiting outside of it. It was a little unnerving to hear Dazai just standing there, humming on the other side of the door.

Doppo was going to smack him over the head when he got out.

He chose his outfit without much care, deciding to simply grab whatever was clean. That ended up being a white tank top, covered with a knitted brown turtleneck, and some grey jeans. It had been a while since he’d dressed casually, besides from his pajamas.

It was an odd feeling. The jeans were a little looser than they were the last time he had worn them- Yosano had been right about him losing weight.

(She had given him a look when he had stepped on the scale, and it had been one of the most humiliating things he’d felt in a long while. It made him want to throw up, just to distract the both from the numbers and the reality of them. To distract himself from his failing Ideal).

Maybe he would let Ranpo buy him something to eat later.

—-

Dazai just barely managed to dodge Doppo’s smack to the back of his head after Doppo had gotten dressed. Damnit. One day he’d catch him off guard- that Doppo swore.

As soon as he’d found his footing again, Dazai had grabbed Doppo’s arm and dragged him out to the front door, with much protest from Doppo.

Doppo had barely caught the shoes that were thrown at his face, putting them on after resisting the urge to yell at Dazai for it.

Stupid man.

—-

Ranpo had somehow managed to drive himself to the dorms- which surprised Doppo to no end. For one, he hadn’t known Ranpo could drive or navigate on the roads with any degree of skill. He was almost impressed, before he remembered that the man was older than him and knowing how to drive was a bare minimum as an adult.

“Alright, get in the car Kunikida-kun, or I’ll be forced to shove you in it!” Dazai exclaimed as Doppo simply stood staring at Ranpo, who was behind the driver's seat.

“Fine, fine,” he said in slight exasperation. “No need to be impatient,” Forgive him for being a tad bit nervous they’d get in a car accident if Ranpo was the one driving. Did he even have a license?

Doppo got into the back seat because Dazai had ran to get the passenger seat before he could sit there. Well, if they got into a head on collision, at least Doppo wouldn’t be the one to die.

“Heyyyy Kunikida-kun! Like my new car?” Ranpo asked in favor of giving a proper greeting. Of course he’d immediately point out that it was new.

Where had Ranpo gotten the money- oh never mind.

Doppo was going to die before the end of this outing. He was sure of it as they began driving down to the mall Ranpo had said he’d wanted to go to.

It became apparent that Ranpo could barely even follow GPS directions, due to the fact they got lost and rerouted at least seven times during their drive there. Each time, Ranpo would simply shrug, or swear at the GPS.

Doppo didn’t reprimand his swearing- if there was one thing he was guilty of doing, it was swearing far too often to be proper. (There was nothing against swearing in his Ideal).

As they drove, Doppo leaned his head back on the seat and closed his eyes. It was going to be a long morning, that was for sure.

Thankfully, Dazai and Ranpo were able to keep each other entertained during the ride, something that Doppo could have guessed would happen. Those two were insufferable on their own but putting them together in the same place increased that factor by quite a bit.

Doppo regretted his choice to come with every passing moment.

—-

“No no no, the green is obviously a much better fit, Kunikida-kun- it matches your hair!” Dazai said, waving his hands for some reason- Doppo wasn’t sure why he was doing it. Whatever.

“My hair is not green,” Doppo protested, resisting the very strong urge to throw the shirt at Dazai’s face and then kick him in the gut.

“No, your hair is definitely green,” Ranpo said, not looking up from his phone.

They were in a changing room at some random clothing store, and the two stupid geniuses had decided they wanted to get Doppo to try on half of the outfits there. They’d been in the changing room for half an hour at this point, and they’d accepted only a third of the outfits.

Why did Doppo have to suffer like this?

“It is blonde, are you colourblind?” Doppo asked, putting his hands on his hips as he glared at the detective.

Ranpo giggled at that, taking his fifth sucker of the day out of his mouth, “Who’s to say you’re not the one who’s colourblind? There’s a pretty high chance you could be! Your eyes already have problems,”

Doppo grumbled under his breath as a substitute for yelling in a public place. “Yeah yeah, laugh it up, why don’t you?” He sighed, before putting the green shirt in the ‘buy’ pile, and the same one but in light brown in the ‘give back’ pile.

The absolute torture of the situation lasted for about ten more minutes before Doppo drop kicked Dazai in the stomach, his anger getting the better of him. Thankfully Dazai hadn’t screamed, or he was sure they would have gotten booted out of the store.

When they got to the cashier, and the two idiots piled up the clothes, Doppo realized that he may have overestimated how much they were buying. Would Ranpo’s friend really be okay paying for all of this?

“That’ll be… er, 300,000 yen,” the cashier said, looking a little pale themself at the price.

Doppo felt his heart drop to the floor at that. That was an insane amount of money for some clothes he didn’t even really need that much! There was no way-

Ranpo swiped the card on the tap machine and it went through with a beep.

There was no stopping him now, Doppo supposed.

“Are you sure your friend is alright with that?” Doppo said quietly to Ranpo as Dazai grabbed the bags from the cashier. “The amount of money spent is excessive- and I really don’t need any of these items,”

Ranpo shrugged, “Eh, I don’t think it’ll even put a dent in Ed’s savings. That guy's got yen to spend for miles.” He replied, far too nonchalant about the whole thing. “One time he spent over a billion on a manuscript of all things! So yeah, this doesn’t really impact anything, don’t worry your head,”

Doppo blanched at that. Whoever this guy was, he was loaded. Dazai had been right about Ranpo being a tsubame. He was sure the car was from the mystery man too.

Ah well, maybe it was too difficult to be caring about that at the moment. After Ranpo had soothed his worries, Doppo couldn’t find it in him to care who the man was. Ranpo wasn’t stupid enough to get caught up in something dangerous (at least not without a way out).

—-

The rest of the morning was spent running to whatever store Dazai or Ranpo felt like checking out. Doppo followed them, carrying the majority of the bags in his arms. It was the least he could do.

The two detectives were loud, and utterly terrible to be seen with in public due to the fact they were acting like absolute children, but Doppo couldn’t reprimand them.

Not when it was the first time he’d seen Dazai genuinely smiling for the longest while. Not when Ranpo had finally let some of the tension out of his shoulders, relaxing in a public place as though he felt actually safe for once.

Doppo felt himself slowly joining in on the positive energy as well. There was less hesitation when he spoke to them, and he let Dazai banter back and forth with him.

For once, it almost seemed like they were five months in the past. Like the world hadn’t depended on them for something so heavy. That they were simply three college aged men enjoying themselves on a day off school or work.

Doppo had missed it.

—-

The place they stopped to eat was the cheapest of cheap- shitty burgers and fries that lamely copied fast food chains of the larger variety.

Ranpo swore up and down that it was good.

Doppo was certain it would give him a heart attack, and when he voiced that thought out loud, Dazai happily accepted it as the truth and then ate the rest of Doppo’s fries. Damn suicidal maniac.

—-

When he was dropped off at home by Ranpo (after missing the turn to the dorms fifteen times), along with his six bags full of clothes and random trinkets Dazai had insisted he bought, Doppo wasn’t immediately wanting to go to bed.

It was around 1:00 pm. Still early in the day.

Maybe he could get some cleaning done. It would help him organize the new things he’d gotten.

—-

He cleaned for a few hours before heading to bed.

For once, he felt a sliver of motivation reaching back into his body. As though taking the outstretched hands of the other agency members had done him some good in the end.

It wasn’t as though everything left him at once, though.

One good day wasn’t enough to cure him of anything. No.

His hands still shook, and he wanted to rip them apart- but he remembered Junichiro and Atsushi’s worries, and he remembered Yosano’s stern talking to.

He washed his hands with cold water when he awoke in the middle of the night.

He still wondered if he deserved it.

But- as he should know- everything took time.

And maybe, just maybe, being on his one-man boat was the thing causing him to sink after all. A larger ship with a bigger crew could withstand even the harshest storms. And this storm wasn’t close to finished yet.

It was starting to calm, though, and soon it would end.