A Melody We Were Never Supposed To Hear

Silence

Marshmello 

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Dazai POV

I could feel Yosano's eyes on me like a noticeable weight over the past few days. The doctor normally tended to stay in her office throughout the day, only venturing out when one of the agency members is too hurt to be moved or she is out on a case or errand of her own. The very few times that she left the office for personal reasons was either to talk to the president or to talk  with Ranpo while he ate his copious amounts of snacks. Normally she was either too tied up with dough actual reports and other words for the Agency, or looking through grotesque images for her newest decorations for her to be able to spend too much time with the detectives. And yet everyday since she recorded the prescription, the Agency doctor has found countless ways to  be around the detectives.

For once her presence wasn't a welcome one.

Memories that I didn't want to see flashed through my mind every time that I let myself close my eyes, even if only for a moment. The pharmacy had gotten the prescription in yesterday and I had taken it before laying down for the night. Though I knew the side effects that the medication used to have on me, I'd forgotten just how severe they nightmares could be. How real. When I finally woke up in the morning, I could still smell the smoke in the air and feel the heavy sensation of blood on my hands. The sent of gunpowder in the air mingled with other metallic scents. My heart had clenched as panic and desperation had coerced through my body as if he had been dying in my arms all over again. 

I'd pieced myself together slowly through out the morning, erasing the damage as best as I could before it turned me into someone that I didn't recognize anymore. When I had walked into the office, Yosano had already been there, her purple eyes trained on me from the moment that I walked into the office, but I couldn't stand to look at the doctor, not when everything about her still picked at the scab wounds that I had thought scared over a long time ago.

Every time that I closed my eyes, I saw one of the few people that I had ever let myself love dying in my arms, and every time that I looked at her, all I could see was the man that had engineered his death. 

I knew that it made no sense, that she hated him as I did, but emotions, as I have found, are completely irrational things.

"Dazai," Atsushi started, standing up from his desk and angling his body at me with a slightly expectant look, "do you want to come to lunch with Kyoka and I?" 

The boy's eyes were soft and earnest and I knew that I really should, that it had been too long since I've been around the boy in any capacity outside of work, and that it was always fun to see him being dragged around by the younger girl, but I couldn't. I couldn't handle the idea of sitting around and plastering on a fake smile with it as brittle as it was right now, with ghost dragging my limbs down.

"I was actually thinking about laying down for a little bit during lunch today," I said, watching as a dejected look took over the younger ability user's face. Even the former assassin looked a little down at the answer that I had given, as the girl had begun warming up to me since what happened with the Moby Dick. "But I'll tell you what," I amended, "the three of us can go and have a picnic this Sunday. I'll even pick up some sweets." 

Two pairs of eyes lit up at the suggestion as a pair of heads nodded vigorously at my words before running out of the office to be left their own devices. The sight was almost enough to make the false smile on my lips morph into something more real, but I hadn't smiled that way in a years.

The other Agency members slowly left the office, making plans with one another as they walked to the door. Ranpo gave me a considering glance before following Yosano and the President out like a brother going after the rest of his family. All I could think at the sight, was that I used to have that, before Mori came along and tore it all apart.