did i already share it? well ill share it again ig
dazai after oda's death wandering around yokohama, a mess becuz someone so precious to him died, unable to understand the very human feelings he's feeling, perhaps feeling something so strongly for someone for the first time (at least whilst being aware that he is)
its night time now and he's crumpled up in some alley way not knowing what to do or how to process anything when someone calls out to him
he ignores it
they come near him
he reaches for his gun, angry at being approached by who ever the fuck-
"are you okay?" the voice asks, and dazai's so caught off guard even tho he shouldnt be - there r only two ppl after all - ppl who dont care and ppl who ask if ur okay to pretend that they do
oda was always an exception
he thinks he says fine and that should be the end of it and it is becuz the voice leaves and dazai tries to go back to breathing
except it comes back a while later with the familiar rustle of plastic bags and suddenly someone's in front of him, not touching, but close enough dazai cant ignore him, his hand tightens on his gun
"you look like you havent eaten" and in front of him, in a plastic bag, riceballs, water, and napkins
he stares
"you're well dressed" the voice says "so you probably have somewhere to go to" he doesnt "but you look hurt, covered in blood. if it was one of my students i would want someone to help them"
when dazai looks up the person in front of him doesn't look older than him
he's got long blond hair tied up, glasses, dressed in a black button up, a tan coat, and a stern look on his face
"i dont" dazai says even though he doesnt know why he's telling this strange man anything - but its true he has no where to go (chuuya's? but something stopped him before he could; ango's? that... if ango had been here... maybe oda wouldn't have-)
"dont what" dazai doesn't reply but the man seems to understand - his face falters for a second
"youngins these days, they never plan out anything. why would you spend money on expensive looking clothes and not rent out a place? my first priority was an apartment! i bought non necessary clothes after" the man scolds gesturing to his coat, dazai wants to reach for his gun again "whatever, you can stay with me for the night - i have a spare couch! this is a one time thing though! you better rent out a hotel room tomorrow!"
dazai stares at him in surprise, at his offer, his contradictory tone, voice, and words or simply the fact that someone can show such... kindness - dazai isnt sure
he doesn't remember agreeing - but he must have
must have agreed and followed the man back to his apartment, must have cleaned up the blood (odaodaoda) in his bathroom, must have eaten his food, drank his water and fallen asleep on his couch because thats where he is in the morning
its still dark out when dazai wakes up in an unfamiliar place and remembers the man
he has a feeling that the man will scold him for not immediately finding a place but let him stay for longer, but he cant stand to be here any longer
he needs to leave
go far far away from oda, the mafia, this man who showed him kindness for no reason as if oda was still here watching, making sure - he needs to go
there's only a brief hesitation when he sees the man's coat, so familiar to the one oda wears, hanging by the door, easy to grab and leave
he doesn't feel guilt when he takes it with him
he thinks of the man a few times here and there in the two years he spends wandering, waiting
he meets him again eventually, walking into the ada office with a fake backstory - he's there with the person he was told was the boss
when he looks over his eyes linger on the coat, a touch of something but not recognition
this is fine with dazai who puts on his best happy mask
"hey there! i'm here for a job interview! my name's dazai"
"Ah yes. My name is Fukuzawa, I am the president of the Agency. This is one of my employees, your future coworker if it all works out, Kunikida"
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part 1
It's a bright May morning, and the commentators are discussing who the Indiana Pacers are going to select. It's a bit of a buzz, there's a rumour of a dark horse candidate. The Commissioner steps up and shakes out the paper, saying clearly into the mic "the Indiana Pacers select Steve Harrington, from Roane County Community College." His face makes it clear he has no goddamn clue who or what college this is. It's fine.
Steve stands, smiling. Robin kisses his cheek and Dustin throws his arms around him before he's shuttled off to get a Pacers ballcap and take a picture with the NBA commissioner, and then to the press room to answer questions.
The reporters have dozens for him, a buzz with the shock of a community college getting a player drafted. It's the first time they'll really be able to talk to him, and he's a bit nervous. He handles it all with as much grace as he can, until someone from the Chicago Sun-Times asks
"you're from Hawkins, a town that's seen its fair share of tragedy over the last number of years. Did that have any sway over your decision?"
Steve's smile turns softer as he answers "Oh, yes. I went to R-tripC because it was close. I've got friends and family in Hawkins still, and I wasn't planning on moving any farther than Chicago. It's...a hard place to leave, after everything." he can tell which reporters have no idea what Happened in Hawkins, the confused brows, scribbles in the margins of notebooks. The Chicago Sun-Times report simply nods. "My being here is just...the result of a few lucky circumstances. The Ospreys, we're a div-four team. Not even supposed to be in any competition for March Madness. But the NCAA decided to try letting non-div one teams on the bracket...not sure if they ever will again considering our loss." there are a few chuckles around the room. The RCCC Ospreys had lost pretty spectacularly in the first round. "But, that's the only reason a scout saw me play. And the fact that the scout was for the Pacers..." Here, he doesn't mention being approached by a representative of the Sacramento Kings as well. "That was something that worked. I've always loved playing ball, but if it hadn't been with the Pacers, I'd be content playing with small local leagues in Indy."
"Has this not been a dream of yours? Playing in the NBA?"
Steve chuckles. "I've played sports my whole life. Obviously when I daydreamed about winning the Championships, or swimming at the Olympics, who didn't? But. Ah, it really came out of left field, if you pardon the baseball analogy." he swallows some of the water in front of him. "I wasn't expecting to be approached by anyone about the NBA. I played on a college team that most people don't know exists, that barley qualified for march madness and got eliminated by the end of the third quarter. I was getting my teaching degree, with guys who were getting horticulture certificates or degrees in Art history or business to help their family Ma 'n Pop store or bio degrees to use to go to masters programs in Indy. We weren't playing for dreams or glory. We played because we love the game, and like each other enough to be a cohesive team." he shrugs. "I was going to move to Indianapolis or Chicago with my wife anyways. This is just...sprinkles. Y'know? I have what I need, my loved ones are happy and healthy and safe, this is just sprinkles on the sundae."
Steve leans back and sighs. He's being signalled to wrap it up. "I'm not taking this opportunity for granted, and I am looking forward to working with and getting to know my teammates. I'll be working hard to make my hometown proud. Thank you."
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