Chapter Text
Dazai Osamu. He is a notorious man, in a way most people will not guess. Yes, he is a man who works at McDonald's while pursuing a philosophy degree, but he is also a man with the wildest habits—the same habits that have made him infamous in the entirety of Yokohama.
Usually, when we think about a college student with a blue-collar job, we think of a young student, barely awake, a fake ass smile on their face, tapping on the screen while taking orders from mostly indecisive, rude or entitled jerks, and doing other repetitive work. But Dazai? He is different—not in a good way, not in a bad way, but in a weird way. Unfortunately, our society deems weird to be equivalent to bad. What does he do exactly? He smiles disarmingly, charms his customers, flirts with women and men, but only picks up women, and yes, the women immediately say no after just one date because he says—
“Would you like to commit double suicide with me?~”
Shockingly, that's not the only thing weird about him. He is suicidal, creatively, theatrically, and cheerfully so. That's why now everyone knows not to inspect the strange humming coming from a barrel, or the bridge, or up above from a rooftop, or even from the dumpster. There, you will find a bandaged man doing everything in his power to commit suicide. He reads the book “A Complete Guide To Suicide” more than his philosophy textbooks. It's his shrine, his obsession—having bought a whole box of them in advance since he tends to lose one in his usual careless behaviour or while attempting suicide.
No one knows why he is like this. The very few who ever approach him curiously are usually met with a nihilistic response wrapped in theatrics and ribboned with fake sparkly eyes.
At Yokohama University, he is a class clown and a major flirt. One might look at him and think that there is no way he is not failing all his classes. He is a man of many talents, and one of them apparently is passing every exam with flying colours despite not being studious. Envy and inquisitiveness from his peers follow him at every turn he takes. Some wonder if he is giving his professors something “special” to get the top grades. Seeing his abnormal lifestyle, interests, and suave behaviour, that theory is not that astonishing.
Dazai isn't living under a rock. He knows every rumour circulating about him. A part of him is amused, the other unbothered, and a small voice that wants someone to see the broken mess buried deep inside. He wishes he could deny it all, but that means he will have to give a reason why he is like that. And that's infinitely harder. It sucks, but he'd rather be seen as a possible drug addict or as someone who sells his body for grades than just a 22-year-old young man who has lost too much to give a damn.
He doesn't want people to see him truly, so he hides behind layers of bandages. Yet, he is theatrical enough to capture the hardened critics. He doesn't care about others' opinions. Yet, he wishes that the world would see beyond what he chooses to show. He thinks he is not deserving of being called human. Yet, he cares too much. He wants to be loved. Yet, he pushes everyone away because he ruins everything he touches, or so he thinks.
He wants to die. Yet he yearns for a reason to live.
And he'll get one…
…in a world he does not belong to.
It is half past noon, one of the busiest times at Dazai's boring service job. The fast food restaurant and the drive-thru are filled with people from diverse lifestyles with one common goal—a quick, carb-rich, delicious but unhealthy lunch.
Dazai is at the side, filling up tall cardboard cups with beverages, with a bump on his head from his manager after he flirted with a strict woman for his own personal entertainment. According to the orders, he is not supposed to flirt or fool with customers especially during rush time because it can lead to aggression among the starved consumers. However, the boss has no intention of firing him anytime soon—Dazai is sure of that. Why? Annoying as Dazai's antics may be, he knows how to play his cards right. He can be manipulative when he feels like it, and he has the boss wrapped in a web of charm, empty promises, and false words. It works because his boss takes pity on him. Firing a suicidal young man seems too harsh, doesn't it?
Anyway, Dazai is more interested in observing people than his actual job.
Feeding people? Pfft—boooring~ He thinks to himself. The philosophy student finds his entertainment in seeing the world around him, hoping to find something that can be so interesting that he'll forget that he's a suicidal maniac.
The door is pushed open again, and another person or group of persons is coming in for lunch. His amber-red eyes flit towards the newcomers, determining whether they are somewhat interesting.
He freezes mid-pour. He sees an older man, taller than him, dressed in traditional clothes. A green yukata and a black haori with traditional socks and sandals. The man's eyes are icy in both demeanor and the shade of blue. His long hair is white, but Dazai notices the grey roots creeping in discreetly.
It's not that mature people do not visit fast food joints at all, but Dazai has never, in his six months of working there, seen someone walk in with such traditional clothes. The man seems like he must prefer chazuke and sake over a cheeseburger.
Dazai mentally scolds himself. Don't judge a book by its cover, you idiot.
He is further piqued as he notices the group behind the old man, who are all relatively younger.
There is a man of average height, wearing a cape-coat and a brown ivy cap. He looks like a Sherlock Holmes wannabe. He has a lollipop sticking out of his mouth, his eyes are closed, and he is walking leisurely with his arms behind his head with a bored expression.
The next person Dazai notices is probably taller than the older man. He has long blonde hair tied in a low ponytail. He is carrying a green notebook, his square-framed spectacles glinting slightly under the lights of the restaurant. He looks too uptight for Dazai's liking.
There is also a woman with purplish-black hair cut in a straight bob, her lips and pumps an alluring rouge. Her slender figure attracts his gaze right away, the shiny gold butterfly clip in her hair adding to the beauty of the hairstyle. Dazai doesn't have a type. All women are beautiful. He is going to flirt with the woman and convince her to go on a date. Then, hopefully, he can get that woman for a double suicide.
There is also another woman, who looks around Dazai's age for sure. She has long straight brown hair and he can't make out what her eye color is because of the distance and because of her pink-framed square spectacles. The woman seems mature because of her formal attire but also cute. If he gets the chance, he'll flirt with her too.
Another person from this strange family-like group comes sprinting forward. The person stands on his toes to see the end of the line and then stands patiently at the end of the queue. This person is a kid in farmer clothes, with a straw hat strapped behind him. His hair and eyes are yellow and golden, and his cheerful and excited smile in totality reminded Dazai of the sun. Too bright. Too happy. Too talkative. Too…everything he pretends to be.
Two more people from this—Dazai is now strongly assuming the group to be a family because that made the most sense to him—family are two more kids. One is a girl with jet-black hair in a school uniform who is squealing and clinging to the arm of the other kid, a boy with ginger hair. The other kid has the most casual clothing of them all—a black tank top underneath a loose white full-sleeved t-shirt, slacks and a red jacket bound around his waist. The ginger is half dragged forward by the girl. Dazai wonders if they are a couple.
As the rest finally reach the queue, Dazai sees two more people. They are two kids, almost hidden behind the adults. One of them is a tall boy wearing his white hair in a quirky hairstyle. His eyes are unique too—purple and golden. His outfit is basic but the way he wears it is not. Dazai's eyes widen in curiosity as he sees that the black belt is worn like a…tail. How peculiar. The kid is looking around here and there, as if he has never been to a fast food place. His demeanor is nervous and shy for someone who looks so weird.
The other kid is a girl, who's just as different as the rest. She has a stony expression, almost rivalling the stoic expression on the older man. Her hair is bluish-black and tied in two low ponytails with what looks like moonflower bands. Her attire is traditional as well. Is she the older man's daughter or granddaughter?
Dazai watches as the two women take the cheerful kid and the couple to save a table for them all. How sad~ I won’t get to ask for their hands in a double suicide. Now, the older man, the detective wannabe, the strict dude, and the two quiet kids are in the line. Maybe I can fool around with the two men. Though the blondie might call the manager on me. He knows that the thought should make him anxious, but it only adds to his excitement. He doesn't mind being punished because it makes him feel alive.
Dazai abandons his duties entirely. He pulls the young boy away from the counter with ruthless abandon and a cheerful smile, taking his place. As the queue moves forward, he sees the five people come closer to the front.
There is no chill down his spine or a distinguishable gust of wind to alert Dazai. There is just an unusually intense feeling of curiosity as he continues to stare at the five people. And it's not just him, he notices. Other people in the restaurant are looking at the group, not with curiosity, but with awe and wonder. Who are they and why are all the heads turning as they walk by?
He has no idea that the older man has a tendency to pick up broken young souls and making them purr.