Archive of Our Own

Kunikida was acting strange that day. He was out of it, to say the least. He would zone out in front of his computer, 'ignore' when he's being called, and to everyone's surprise, Kunikida didn't do a single work that day. He was just staring at nothing in particular. It genuinely creeped out some of the younger members.

As soon as the clock hit 5 in the afternoon, Kunikida stood up from his seat, grabbed his belongings, and walked out of the office.

Silence filled the office.

To some, it felt like Kunikida was moving like a puppet, controlled by someone. But to Dazai, his partner, he felt something was terribly wrong with the other man.

So what has Dazai decided?

Investigate, of course, like the true detective he is.

Dazai sat up from lying down on the sofa and sighed. He looked at Atsushi, who was cleaning up and also preparing to leave, and smiled. He stood up and went towards Atsushi.

Atsushi noticed Dazai approaching him.

"Oh, Dazai-san! What can I help you with? I was just about to leave, but I can help you with whatever." The boy said as he stopped what he was doing to properly focus his attention on his mentor.

Dazai stopped just in front of Atsushi, "Oh there's nothing I need help with, Atsushi-kun. Don't worry~" He said as he pat the other's head. "I just want to ask about a certain someone."

Atsushi looked up at Dazai who was still patting his head, "If you stop patting my head like I'm a cat, which I'm not by the way!, maybe I'll answer whatever your question may be."

Dazai chuckled as he removed his hand from Atsushi's head, "Oh, so sassy. Who do you take this from?"

"Who else? Of course from you, Dazai-san." Atsushi bluntly said, who went back to packing up his things.

"Hey now, you're hurting your poor mentor's feelings." Dazai dramatically said, as he put his hands on his head and groaned.

"Stop being dramatic already, and ask your question." Atsushi finally looked at him again.

Dazai stopped with his dramatic flair and stood up properly, "Well, you know how I was absent from work yesterday?"

Atsushi hummed in response, and nodded for him to continue.

"Did anything particular happen at work?"

Atsushi shook his head, "No, none that I've noticed. I would think today's more particular because Kunikida-san was acting weird." He paused for a second as he realized why Dazai was asking about this. "If you're asking this because you're worried about him, if you may know, he was acting completely normal yesterday."

"Hm." It got Dazai thinking: 'Did something happen when he got home yesterday?'

"Is that all, Dazai-san? Kyoka-chan's waiting for me by the door. We have to go home now."

Dazai snapped out from his train of thought to look back at Atsushi, "Yes, of course. Thank you, Atsushi-kun. You two can go home now. Take care on the way home." He waved his hand.

Atsushi bowed his head and went over to where Kyoka was standing.

Their conversation faded into the background as Dazai sat on his chair, drifting back to his thoughts.

He heard Kyoka bid him goodbye and then leaving with Atsushi, but he didn't acknowledge them as he continued to drown himself with thoughts about Kunikida's behavior and what could have caused it.

As he continued thinking, he happened to catch a glimpse of the calendar on Atsushi's table.

It was the 30th of June.

"Hm, I don't think something grand or depressing happened on this day." Dazai murmured to himself as he put his legs on the table.

Then suddenly, after a few minutes of thinking, Dazai finally remembered something.

"There's always one day every year where Kunikida-kun acts weird. He refuses to speak of what could have happened on that specific day, but I assume it really affected him as a person." This was what Yosano had told him in a passing conversation. She just mentioned it randomly, so Dazai didn't give it much thought.

Dazai put down his legs and stood up. He walked towards Fukuzawa's office. When he entered the room, he gently closed it behind him before looking through the files in the drawers.

As soon as he found the file that he was looking for, he slumped down on the sofa and opened the folder.

Profile

Name: Kunikida Doppo

Gender: Male

Age: 20 years old

Birthday: August 30

Former Occupation: Teacher

Dazai spotted a cassette tape behind the paper. He stood up and went around the room to look for a cassette player. When he found it, he walked back to the sofa, put it on the table, and sat down. He put the tape inside the player and let it play.

Remarks:

I first met him at the park on the 30th of June. He was crying while holding an empty bottle of alcohol. I decided that it would be best to stay with him because there are many dangers, especially at this time of night. When I sat beside him, he tried to stop himself from crying, probably embarrassed that someone else was there with him. I told him it's alright and asked if he wanted to share what happened. Telling a stranger is much better than telling someone you know, after all.

He nodded and told me everything. He told me that he was a former teacher at a local school but he resigned on this date last year. I asked him why he did that and he told me about this one particular student who has caught his attention. That student was gloomy and was always alone. He also observed that the student has bruises all over him, and assumed it was because he was bullied or abused at home. The man didn't know what to do or how he can stop this from happening, so he just tried his best to accompany the student and comfort him. They became close and the student started referring to him as his father. It melted the man's heart. But, one day, the student has been weird all day. When the bell rang, signalling for students to go home, everyone left the classroom except that particular student. He went to the teacher's table where the man was sitting and hugged him. The student said goodbye and thanked him for everything. The man was confused at that time on why he was doing that but accepted the hug anyway. The student left the room with a smile. A few minutes later, the teacher left the classroom, as well, to go to the faculty room. He packed his things, and after that he locked the room. He walked towards the exit. He felt that something was wrong, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He had just stepped out of the building when someone suddenly plummeted from above, landing hard right in front of him. The man recognized the person who fell, it was his student, the student who hugged him earlier. He hurriedly clutched the student's body while ringing 119. The man cried and begged for the other to stay alive. But when they got to the hospital, the student was dead on arrival. Starting from that day on, he started feeling guilty, saying it was all his fault that the student continued to suffer. After all, he was the only one who knew about his problems. He could have atleast reported his parents to the Child Protection Services, and his bullies to the principal, but he didn't. Why didn't he? He didn't know. At that same night, he texted the principal that he would be resigning.

That day was that student's death anniversary and he was planning to poison himself with excessive alcohol drinking because of all the guilt he felt. Of course, I tried to stop him from doing it.

"There's nothing left for me now. I killed someone. It's best if I just... end it. Maybe that way, I can pay for all the pain I caused him," he said as his voice slurred with guilt and alcohol.

I sat beside him in silence for a moment, letting the weight of his words settle.

"You know, regret like that means you still care. That still counts for something" I said.

He looked at me, eyes red from sobbing, "Caring doesn't bring him back."

"No, it doesn't. But it can change what comes next. What you choose to do from here, of course, that matters too."

He scoffed, "And what am I supposed to do? Pretend I didn’t mess everything up?"

I shook my head.

"No. But maybe you can still do some good. Earlier, you talked about wanting to protect children... Is that still something you want?"

His expression softened.

“Yeah. If I had another shot in life, I’d protect them. All of them. I don’t want anyone else to go through what he did.”

I paused, then pulled out a small card and slipped it into his hand.

"Then maybe we’ll talk again. When your head’s a bit clearer. I won’t ask you to decide anything now. Just… keep that. Call me, if you want to do something that matters."

He looked down at the card, then back at me, “What is this?”

“Just… a chance. When you’re ready.”

After that day, I didn't receive any calls. Not until the 25th of July when I got a call from him. I told him to come and when he did, I gave him a 'fake' mission to test him. This was the entrance exam that determines if he's well-suited for this job. And he was, he passed with flying colors.

From then on, he worked really hard. He closed cases that was assigned to him, and he saved many people, and that includes children.

I'm very proud of him.

.

.

.

.

The tape stopped.

The reels slowed to a halt with a soft click, and the play button popped up. Silence settled in as the player sensed the end; nothing left to read and nothing left to play. Just a faint hum and the quiet waiting to flip the tape.

Dazai leaned forward, thumb brushing the eject button. He popped open the cassette tray and pulled the tape out gently. He held onto the tape as he stood, crossed the room in deliberate steps, and returned the cassette player to its spot on the shelf.

He sat back to where he was sitting earlier as he put the file with Kunikida's information and the cassette tape on the table infront of him.

Dazai stared at the tape and the open file on the table, fingers pressed against his lips.

The room was quiet, too quiet, infact. He tapped the edge of the tape, mind racing.

“…June 30th,” he muttered. “Of course. Why didn’t I see it sooner? It’s today . The day his student died.”

"But wait..." He stood abruptly, chair scraping loudly against the floor.

“That couldn't have been the only reason why he's being this weird. There has to be more to this.” His eyes darkened with something more serious than usual.

Dazai ran a hand through his hair.

"He has been a bit off for weeks now. It seems like he's in his own world, distracted by something.. or someone? But I thought since he still scolded me and did all his work, I thought he was fine." He cursed under his breathe before he continued talking to himself.

"And of course, the recent missions didn't help with whatever he's feeling—" He stopped talking. His gaze flickered towards the window as the memories clicked into place.

“…That last mission. I heard that some kids strapped with a bomb died right in front of him. So that's why when he got back at the agency that day, he was quiet. His eyes were dark, void of any emotions. The President might have sensed how affected Kunikida-kun was from the mission so he sent him home early,” Dazai whispered as horror creeped into his voice. “And after that… he wouldn’t talk. He barely even ate. He just buried himself with work."

He clenched his fists, "He thinks he failed again . Just like that day.”

The thought hung there, heavy and real.

Then, his voice dropped to a hoarse whisper.

“Don’t tell me…” he trailed off, then shook his head violently. “No. No, no—Kunikida wouldn’t—”

But doubt bled into his certainty.

“He’s not just zoning out. He’s dissociating. That blank stare… that wasn’t burnout. That was resignation.” Dazai’s eyes widened. “That means he’s already decided.”

He suddenly kicked the edge of the desk, sending a few pens clattering to the floor.

“Dammit!” he shouted. “He’s going to fucking kill himself. That's my brand, why the hell is he stealing that from me, stupid Kunikida ugh fuck . I gotta hurry."

He hurriedly stood up, put all the things back to where he took it, and ran out of the room. He didn't forget to lock the entrance of the agency building before sprinting towards a certain place.

"I have to hurry.. Or else, he would meet the same fate as Odasaku. And I can not have that happening, not on my watch." Dazai said loudly, though only to himself, breath ragged as he kept running. "I have to.. hurry to Kunikida's apartment. If I don't, I'll be too late."

As he was running, he pulled out his phone and called Yosano to get to Kunikida's apartment as soon as possible.

When he arrived at the building, he ran up the stairs and towards the door of Kunikida's apartment. He got there, panting, and frantically knocking on the door. He doesn't even care if he's disturbing anyone right now. The important thing is to get to Kunikida immediately .

"Kunikida! Open the door! Right now!" He kept calling out to Kunikida as he continued to knock.

When nobody was answering, he stopped knocking and decided to pick the lock of the door. He kneeled down to properly pick the lock and a few minutes later, he finally heard the sound of it being unlocked.

He took out the clip that he used to picklock the door, and put it back in his pocket, before standing up and opening the door.

When he entered, he closed the door behind him and called out to Kunikida.

"Kunikida-kun? Are you there? Where are you?" He said as he slowly entered the living room. He heard the sound of the television playing.

When he finally got to see the whole view of the living room, Kunikida was nowhere to be seen. His focus went to the television and it seems it was broadcasting a news program, but he noticed a DVD player connected to it, meaning Kunikida was watching an old news program.

The news anchor began to speak:

"Azure King is a wanted serial bomber and killer who was being investigated by the Armed Detective Agency, the police, Public Safety Bureau, and the military. An informant led five public detectives to an abandoned building suspected to be tied to the mentioned terrorist. However, based on the reports, the building has been rigged with bombs in advance by the Azure King. And, that resulted in the five detectives getting caught in the explosion, including the Azure King, the one who placed and detonated the bomb. Authorities are continuing their investigation...."

The talking faded into the background as Dazai realized what this is.

"It's a record of the news program back when Azure King was around.. Why does Kunikida still have this?" Dazai said as he disconnected the DVD player and turned off the television.

Dazai stood frozen in the middle of the living room, the remote still in his hand, his chest heaving with silent, mounting dread.

‘Why would Kunikida still have this?

Why would he watch this, of all things, today?’

That incident. It had caused chaos within the agency, especially for Kunikida. It was one of his darkest days that led him to be what he is today.

For Kunikida, it wasn’t just an incident.

It was a graveyard he never got to walk away from.

He would always blame himself for leading those detectives to their death. And he always carried that guilt.

“God…” Dazai whispered, eyes scanning the other rooms.

He stumbled past the living room, and headed to the bedroom. He opened the door quietly. He stepped in.

He observed the room. It was a mess, to say the least. He picked up Kunikida's notebook that was on the floor. It was open. And that could only mean one thing. He used his ability to create something that could kill him. He created a gun, most likely.

Dazai called out once again, "Kunikida?"

He heard shuffling in the bathroom.

Dazai approached the door and twisted it.

There he was.

Kunikida faced him. He was holding a gun pointed on the side of his head.

"Kunikida-kun... Give me the gun." Dazai as he reached out his hand.

Kunikida was silent for a moment, his hand was trembling while he fiddled with the trigger.

"Why are you here, Dazai? Stand back." Kunikida said.

"We can talk this out, Kunikida. Just give me the gun." Dazai stepped forward but was taken aback when Kunikida suddenly yelled.

"Stand back, I said. I'll pull the trigger if you don't!!" Kunikida said as he almost pressed the trigger.

Dazai took a step back and was in the corner of the bathroom, at this point. Kunikida was at the farthest edge of the room, opposite from Dazai, near the shower.

Kunikida's hand didn't stop trembling.

Dazai could see it clearly now. There was this agony in Kunikida’s eyes and the grief threatening to consume him. His hand holding the gun was shaking not from fear, but from all the weight he’d carried alone for so long. Every breath he took looked like it hurt.

But Dazai… Dazai had seen this too many times before. In others. And most specifically, in himself .

Still, nothing prepared him for seeing it in Kunikida , of all people.

Slowly and softly, Dazai lowered himself to the floor, showing his empty hands.

“…You really think I’d let you do this alone?” His voice was quiet. It was void of any teasing and stripped bare of any dramatics. It wasn't time for any of those right now. “You think I’d just watch you disappear without doing a damn thing?”

Kunikida flinched, and the gun wavered in his grip.

“You don’t understand,” The blonde muttered. “This… this isn’t just about anyone or anything else. It’s about me , Dazai. Everything I ever touched fell apart. My ideals, my goals… they mean nothing if I keep failing the people I swore to protect.”

Dazai's heart clenched, “I do understand, Kunikida. But you're just one man. You can't save every single person.” He leaned forward just an inch. “You think I haven’t been there? You think I haven’t asked myself if the world would be better off without me?”

Kunikida’s jaw clenched, but he didn’t speak.

“I’ve stood where you’re standing right now. I've held a gun to my own head more times than I can count. And let me tell you something..." Dazai’s voice cracked, just slightly, “... It never brought me peace. It never fixed anything. It just made the pain heavier for the people I left behind.”

Kunikida’s gaze flickered to Dazai, finally meeting his eyes.

“It wouldn’t be the same without you, Kunikida,” Dazai said, voice low and hoarse. “None of us would be the same. Did you know how much you’ve held us all together? You’re our compass, our pillar.”

Kunikida scoffed under his breath and rolled his eyes, "Some compass I am. I can’t even follow my own principles.”

“No,” Dazai said firmly. “You faltered, yes. But that's normal because you’re human . It's not being a failure, but being human.Nobody is perfect, Kunikida. People are bound to make mistakes from time to time. You think ideals are a map you never stray from? No. They’re a direction you keep walking toward even when the ground crumbles beneath you.”

The silence was heavy again. It was tense.

Then, with all the gentleness Dazai could muster, he said, “Please. Give me the gun.”

Kunikida's eyes welled up. His fingers clenched tighter around the weapon. Then looser. His grip was unsteady, like his conviction was starting to crack.

"...I'm tired , Dazai." His voice was barely above a whisper. “I’m so… tired.”

Dazai’s breath hitched.

Kunikida looked at him, and for the first time, Dazai saw him not as the man who shouted about ideals and organization and rules, but as someone utterly exhausted .

“You all will be fine without me,” Kunikida continued, his voice shaking again. "The Agency... you… you don’t need me. Not really. I’m just, just someone clinging to a fantasy of a world that doesn’t exist.”

“No,” Dazai breathed, taking a cautious step forward, “No, don’t say that. That’s not true—"

“I failed them,” Kunikida cut in, his voice suddenly rising, raw and strangled, like hsi emotions were bottled up and this is the only time he could let it all out. "My student, those children strapped with bombs, the detectives who trusted my intel and went in that building. I—” his chest heaved. “I couldn’t save any of them. They died because of me. Don’t you understand that, Dazai? I killed them.”

He looked at the side where the gun was, then back to Dazai. His eyes were red and his voice cracking like shattering glass.

“I don’t want to carry this guilt anymore.”

“No, no, no—” Dazai stepped forward in a desperate rush, hand outstretched. “Kunikida, please —”

But he was too late.

Kunikida pulled the trigger.

A single, deafening sound exploded through the bathroom.

And everything stopped.

The world stilled.

Dazai stood frozen as if time itself had broken apart at the edges. His ears rang.

There was a sharp, metallic scent in the air.

A hollow pressure throbbed in his chest.

Kunikida crumpled to the floor.

The gun hit the tiles with a clatter that echoed like a scream.

“No... no no no—” Dazai dropped to his knees beside him, hands reaching to cradle Kunikida frantically. He was trembling as he pressed them to Kunikida’s chest, his neck, his wrist.

There was little to no pulse.

“ Damn it , Kunikida, no! You don’t get to do this! Not to me, not to us !”

Blood pooled beneath Kunikida's head, stark and red against the white of the tiles.

Dazai’s hands were soaked. His voice broke as he choked out words he didn’t even know he was saying anymore.

“You promised me. You fucking promised me —! You were going to live. You were going to keep walking forward, even when it hurt. That was your ideal , wasn’t it!?”

But there was no answer.

Only silence.

Only stillness.

Only the weight of loss.

Dazai pressed his forehead to Kunikida’s shoulder, shaking with helplessness.

And for the first time in years, he wept .

A few minutes later, yelling could be heard from outside the room.

He perked up.

'That was Yosano's voice. She's here!' Dazai thought and yelled to inform Yosano where they are.

Yosano opened the door to the bathroom and she found Dazai clutching the body of Kunikida, who was badly bleeding.

It stunned Yosano for a second, but she didn't ask any more questions as she immediately used her ability.

One, two, three.

Nothing happened.

Dazai's eyes widened and he tried to feel Kunikida's pulse one more time.

"He's...."

“…He’s gone .”

The words left Dazai in a breath that didn’t feel like his own.

Yosano’s hands dropped from Kunikida’s body as if she no longer knew how to heal, trembling as she stared down at her colleague, her friend, her family.

"No... no, no—! He can't be!" she gasped, voice cracking as her knees gave out beneath her.

She collapsed beside Dazai and reached out with shaking fingers, placing them over Kunikida’s chest like maybe, just maybe, there was still something she missed. But the warmth was leaving. His skin was cooling far too quickly.

“…My ability doesn’t work on the dead,” she whispered. Tears dropped and the reality of that sentence crushed whatever fragile hope still lingered in the air.

Yosano let out a sound, a half sob, half scream and buried her face into Kunikida’s bloodied shirt.

"You idiot! You damn, idealistic idiot! You were supposed to come to me if it ever got this bad! You promised, didn’t you? Weren’t you the one who said that no life should be wasted, and especially not your own?!” Her voice broke at the end, and all that came after was grief. It was wracking, and unfiltered grief.

Dazai stayed silent, still holding Kunikida close, as if by doing so he could stitch him back together. His body shook violently now. It wasn't from fear nor shock, but from grief so thick it choked the air in his lungs.

“I should’ve known,” he whispered bitterly as his voice cracked, overwhelmed by the emotions he's feeling right now. “I should’ve seen all the signs earlier. I should’ve said something sooner. Anything . But I didn’t.”

He looked at Kunikida’s face, peaceful now, like the war inside him had finally gone quiet.

“And now you’re just… gone,” Dazai whispered. “You left me too.”

Yosano, who was still crying quietly beside him, reached out and placed a hand on Dazai’s back, grounding herself to something, to someone , because it felt like the room was collapsing in on itself.

Neither of them said anything for a while. 

What could they possibly say?

The brightest part of the Agency’s moral compass, the man who preached ideals and lived for them, the man who kept them all standing together even though there were countless obstacles that kept them all from doing so, had broken under the weight of his own unrelenting guilt.

Kunikida Doppo was gone.

Their pillar was gone.

Their family was gone.

And Dazai… Dazai hadn’t cried like this since Odasaku.

He hadn't felt like this since Odasaku's death.

“…Anything I would never want to lose is always lost. It is a given that everything that is worth wanting will be lost the moment I obtain it,” he whispered as he pressed his forehead to Kunikida’s own.

Yosano didn't say anything. She just leaned against him, hands fisted tightly in her lap, and tears still slipping silently down her face.

Outside, the sun had just set.

And inside the silent apartment, time stood still. Two broken people knelt on the bathroom floor, holding the body of a man who carried the guilt, for far too long.

A few hours later, someone opened the door. The two didn’t bother looking up. The ones who entered were Ranpo and Fukuzawa. The two were calm but you can see the sorrow in their eyes.

"You two have to go now," Ranpo said. "They're going to get his body later."

The two didn't reply. They didn't want to be separated from Kunikida.

Fukuzawa stepped further into the room, quiet and composed. He walked with a measured calm that didn't try to overpower the grief, but simply existed within it.

Yosano didn’t look up and Dazai barely registered him.

But Fukuzawa knelt infront of them, beside Kunikida's body, and placed a hand gently on Dazai's shoulder.

“…You need to let go now, Dazai,” he said, his voice unwavering. “You did everything you could. He knew that. We all know that.”

“I didn’t do enough,” Dazai whispered. "I should’ve said something. I should’ve pulled him out of it before it got this far.”

Yosano’s breath hitched beside him, but she said nothing.

Fukuzawa didn’t argue. Instead, he simply gave the kind of silence that allowed grief to exist without judgment.

When that didn't work, Ranpo stepped forward with his eyes unusually open and subdued.

He crouched beside Yosano and nudged her shoulder gently.

“Come on,” he murmured, a rare softness threading his tone. “We can’t stay here forever. Kunikida wouldn’t want us to.”

Yosano bit her lip and slowly, with trembling hands, allowed Ranpo to help her to her feet. Her gaze lingered on Kunikida, as if by simply watching him a second longer she could take him with her.

Finally, she slowly nodded.

Fukuzawa then reached for Dazai.

At first, Dazai didn’t move. His hands were still wrapped tightly around Kunikida’s shirt, knuckles white, tears drying on his face.

Then he swallowed, chest trembling, and finally loosened his grip.

Slowly, painfully, he shifted, moving to lay Kunikida down gently onto the floor. His hands smoothed the front of Kunikida’s shirt, almost instinctively, like tucking him in one last time.

He stood without taking Fukuzawa's hand.

Fukuzawa nodded simply, turned his back, and led the way out. Yosano and Ranpo stepped out of the bathroom with him, walking past the shattered pieces of someone they all cared for. The bedroom felt larger than it ever was before.

But Dazai… Dazai remained still, for just a while longer.

He turned back to Kunikida one last time.

“…You know,” he murmured. “for someone who hated my suicidal jokes, you were the biggest hypocrite of them all.”

He let out a broken laugh.

Then he spoke softer:
“I hope you’re at peace now, Kunikida. And wherever you are… I hope you find him. That student of yours. And, say hello to Odasaku for me, please."

A beat passed. Dazai took one long and aching breath before he turned around.

“Goodbye, partner .”

Dazai walked out of the apartment, to where the other three was waiting for him. The door closed softly behind him.

Dazai took off his coat stained with blood. 

The four got in a taxi and Fukuzawa instructed the driver to drive them to the agency.

The ride was quiet.

No one dared to speak.

When they got there, Fukuzawa paid the taxi driver and they all got out of the car.

It was almost time for work so they're sure that all of the other members are there already. They used the elevator to get to the agency's office and when they got to the door, it was Ranpo who opened it.

Everyone was already there, working, laughing with each other.

It tore Dazai apart that Kunikida isn't here anymore to see this joy. To laugh and talk with them.

'It's all your fault.' A voice whispered in his head.

Fukuzawa gathered all of them to announce something important.

Whispers and questions could be heard, but Dazai blocked it all out. He's too deep in his thoughts and guilt of not saving his partner in time. Yosano was feeling the same. She stared at nothing as she blanked out. She.. couldn't feel herself. For her, she thinks she's still clutching Kunikida's dead body.

The voices dulled into a buzz, like the sound of radio static.

The other members fell quiet one by one when they saw the President at the front with a grave expression, Dazai looking hollow, Yosano was pale and shaken with dried blood staining the edges of her white sleeves, and Ranpo stood behind them with none of his usual smugness. His hat was pulled low over his face and his hands buried in his coat pockets. It was unusual for all of them to do that so they dreaded hearing what the announcement was.

Then Fukuzawa spoke.

His voice was gentle but it cut through the silence like a blade.

“…This morning, Kunikida Doppo was found dead in his apartment.”

The room fell utterly silent.

Not a breath.

Not a sound.

Not even a heartbeat could be heard in that moment.

“What?” Atsushi’s voice broke first, high and disbelieving as he stumbled to his feet. “No. No, that’s... that’s not true. He just left yesterday! He was acting weird, but, he’s not... He’s not dead , he can’t be—!”

Kyoka covered her mouth. Tears welled in her eyes. "Kunikida-san…?"

Tanizaki stood frozen in place, his hands trembling while Naomi gasped beside him, clinging to his arm with wide, tear-filled eyes.

Kenji dropped the basket of fresh bread he had brought that morning. It hit the floor with a soft thump, scattering pieces across the floor, but no one moved to pick it up.

Even Haruno, who rarely showed any emotional vulnerability, was silent. Her hand covering her mouth as if holding back a scream.

“I don’t understand,” Atsushi cried out again, stumbling backward. “Why would he…? Why would he do something like that? He was here yesterday... he was here ! There's no way, there's no....." He couldn't continue what he was saying as he tried to hold onto something for support but failed and ended up flopping on the floor.

Kyoka gripped his sleeve tightly, silently sobbing.

Ranpo finally spoke. His voice was hollow.

“He was hurting. And he hid it so well that I couldn't even deduce it."

In Ranpo’s head, all he could think of was: ‘What kind of a genius am I when I can’t even prevent my friend’s death?’ He was drowning in guilt too as he looked down on the floor. He couldn’t look at anyone.

Yosano collapsed into the couch in the corner of the room, her eyes glassy, and she was barely breathing.

She said nothing.

Fukuzawa bowed his head, "There is no easy way to explain this kind of grief. No logic or reason that will make it feel less cruel. But what happened to Kunikida is real. And we… we must honor his memory, no matter how painful that truth is.”

The room broke apart.

Atsushi burst into sobs as he clinged to Kyoka like a lifeline. She wrapped her arms around him, tears running down her cheeks in silent streams.

Kenji whispered something under his breath. Maybe something like a prayer, or a goodbye, or maybe just Kunikida’s name over and over and over again, like he's chanting it, praying that if he does it again and again, Kunikida will suddenly come back to life.

Naomi cried quietly into Tanizaki’s shoulder, and Tanizaki let the tears run down his own face, too shaken to say anything.

Haruno stood stiff and shaking, lips pressed together so tightly they bled. She didn't care though as she started crying too.

And Dazai, Dazai just turned and walked out.

Just like that.

Not a word nor a glance.

He couldn’t take it anymore.

The moment he stepped into the hallway and the door shut behind him, he slid down against the wall and buried his face in his bloodstained hands.

Kunikida was gone.

The man who scolded him daily, who patched up the broken mess of the Agency with his ideals, who argued about morals, who made lists and quotes and had the strength to keep going when Dazai didn’t, was gone.

Dazai let out a choked, broken sound.

The kind of sound that only exists when you’ve lost someone who took part of you with them.

“…Why couldn't I stop you?” he whispered.

The weight of it all settled like a storm cloud that would never break.

He sat there until the tears ran out.

Until the blood dried on his hands.

Until he could barely breathe again.

And inside the office, the rest of the Agency mourned the man who had been their light.

The one who lived for his ideals.

The one who gave everything until there was nothing left to give.

Kunikida Doppo was gone.

But the echoes of his ideals, his voice, his notebook and his presence would never fade.

Not from that office.

Not from their lives.

And especially, never from Dazai’s heart.