Work Text:
BANDAGE-WASTER,
Yosano recommended I start writing down my issues with you rather than ranting to her about it. I am pretty sure she was joking given she started laughing the moment I started writing this, but it was actually quite a bright idea. I think it will help alleviate the wrinkles on my forehead that your terrible schemes have given me, you LITTLE CHUMP! Maybe it will also help me with anger management, as people often tell me that is something I struggle with. I disagree— If my coworkers, nominally YOU, were even slightly more competent, I would be a lovely, flowery presence. Yosano is still laughing at me because “[I] look so focused.” I’ll quit for now, but I think I have discovered a fantastic new method for dealing with my feelings (NEGATIVE) around you, especially when you’re not around, like right now. Where are you, by the way?
Have a terrible day,
Doppo Kunikida
…
COUNT YOUR DAYS YOU HORRIBLE, TWISTED, SCHEMING, WRETCHED MUMMY OF A MAN! HOW DARE YOU DRAW SUCH A CRUDE BODY PART IN MY SCHEDULE! I SHOULD STRING YOU UP LIKE AN ORNAMENT TO THE CEILING FAN AND LEAVE YOU THERE TO DIE. WOULD YOU BE HAPPY THEN?! WOULD YOU LEAVE ME ALONE THEN!? I HAVE GONE THROUGH THREE ENTIRE PENS WRITING THIS BECAUSE EVERY TIME I CONJURE THE IMAGE OF YOUR STUPID, SMUG FACE MY FINGERS AUTOMATICALLY SQUEEZE TOGETHER IMAGINING CHOKING THE LIFE OUT OF YOU! I AM NEVER MAKING YOU DESSERT AGAIN IF THIS IS WHAT I’M REWARDED WITH! I HOPE YOU DIE! NO I DON’T!
I HATE YOU.
Doppo Kunikida
…
ASSHOLE,
I cannot BELIEVE that out of all the times you could have chosen to jump onto a moving train, now would be the time. I’m now three hours behind schedule because I have had to calculate where your sorry ass ended up so I can hunt you down and get my goddamn PEN back. For a second I thought you were going to jump in front of the moving train, and now I wish you had if it would’ve spared me this absolute WASTE of time!
You are the worst partner EVER!
Doppo Kunikida
…
Dear ASSHAT,
I wonder if you get off on making my life miserable. Not only did you eat the peach I had been saving for weeks to ripen, you didn’t even PEEL it and you left the pit in my BED! I JUST WANT TO BEAT SOME SENSE INTO YOU! I am so sick of you breaking into my dorm even though I’ve offered you house keys. If you want to be around someone, go bother the tiger! Or just ask me.
Just ask me.
Doppo Kunikida
…
Dear Dazai,
I have the world’s worst hangover today thanks to you. No amount of water and prayers to a higher power can make my head not feel like it’s been pummeled with a mallet. I hate you.
You’re my work partner. Nothing more, nothing less. Except last night we, well, fornicated , and now I’m rapidly facing the consequences. Work partners don’t usually do that to my knowledge, but I guess you have a strange standard given your dynamic with that Nakahara fellow— That’s besides the point. That was unprofessional and will not happen again, even if it was, as much as I hate to admit it, nice . It was relaxing, and I saw a side of you I’ve never seen before. We became one, which is fitting for partners.
According to my ideals, fornication was not something to occur for me until three years from now, so I have to rewrite some things. And rethink some things. Can you stop screwing up my schedule for one day?!
How can I look Ranpo in the eye after this,
Doppo Kunikida
…
Dear Dazai,
This is the first time you’ve attempted since we slept together. My stomach is a tangle of knots that I can’t seem to find the beginning of, and all I can do is wait. It always freaks me out, but this time is different. Everything has been different. I’ve started noticing strange things, like the way you stir your tea, or how you cross your legs when you’re talking to someone you’re trying to intimidate, or how your eyes seem just a little brighter. It’s not like these things or these… feelings weren’t there before, but it’s like someone’s put glasses on my brain. It’s like I can see you, glimpses of the man behind that perfectly articulated mask. I wonder if you can tell. I wonder if you catch me staring. I wonder if you know that I
…
Dear Dazai,
I’ve started to wonder if I’ll actually ever show these to you, or who I’m even writing them for. It’s strange to address a letter to a person that you fully intend never to read them. It’s therapeutic, and even though it feels a little pointless, I’d rather bury myself in a shallow grave than let you read these. You’d make fun of me for being too emotional or something and then I’d feel stupid. You make me feel stupid quite often, and I almost forget that I’m working with a muppet of a mastermind. Sometimes I wonder if you’re bored with me. You predict me so easily, after all. Maybe you predicted me writing this. Bet you can’t predict this: G.
Take that.
I’m just acting idiotic now. Would you look at that— You’re rubbing off on me. I’m starting to think that might not be a bad thing.
Were you the one who stole my left dark blue ankle sock?
Doppo Kunikida
…
Smartass,
I changed my mind. You rubbing off on me is a bad thing. You’ve slowly whittled down my hardened resolve and now I’ve become a lazy, drooling whore. That’s dramatic, but that’s what it feels like. I shouldn’t even entertain anything physical with you in the first place given we are coworkers. The one night stand was a bad decision, and continuing to do so for “stress relief” was a worse decision. Today I looked at you and had the urge to kiss you. I want to go lay down and die.
Before we did anything, you looked me in the eyes and said Now don’t fall in love with me, Kunikida-kun! I thought it was the most ridiculous thing I’d ever heard. I almost laughed . That’s how stupid I thought that was to say, but now everytime I look at you I ache. I don’t know what I’m fostering for you, but it’s not just partnership anymore. I’ve always… been amazed by you, but this is different. This makes me feel softer, like you’ve taken away my skin and can see straight to the very bones of my being. But we’re work partners, and there’s lines that should not be crossed, like sleeping with each other, and especially getting emotionally involved. It could endanger the mission. Endanger us. I told you I could handle “partners with benefits”, and you said it would be no strings attached, so why do I find myself tangled in a web of you?
Stop stealing my left socks,
Doppo Kunikida
…
Dear Dazai,
Today I woke up in bed alone, which is how I always wake up, but it's strange-- For the first time ever, I rolled over and expected you to be there. Which is stupid, given you've never once stayed the night, and if you did, I think it would be too painful for both of us. Still, I'm here in my room, waiting for you to return.
I’m worried about you. I always am. I wish I had the guts to tell you that. I admire you more than I've admired anyone, but if I told you that, our little game would end, and you really don't need the ego boost. Regardless, I hope you are okay. You always end up being okay, but that doesn't make this any easier.
Today is the first day I've come to terms with loving you. I think that's what makes this so hard. You probably already know that. I wish I were nicer to you, softer with you. I see the pain in your eyes that no one man should ever bear. One day I hope you let me share that burden.
Now COME HOME, ASSHOLE!
Doppo Kunikida
…
Dazai,
I think I love you. Well, I know I love you, but saying that outright feels… wrong, somehow, like cracking a whip on a horse’s back. It would scare you off. I know that. I’ve seen the look in your eyes when you realize a woman wants more than a one night stand with you and it is the look of a doe staring down the barrel of a gun. Not to mention I don’t even know you fully, because knowing you is like drawing a fractal in its entirety despite its infinitely complex nature, forever stretching into infinitesimal patterns. I’m getting off-track, but I’m sure you know what I mean. I’ve gotten better at picking up on your microexpressions, but sometimes I’m wrong, and sometimes it scares you that I’m learning, that I might get a glimpse past the mask and you readjust and I’m back at square one.
I don’t think I need to know all of you to love you. I know there’s a lot you hide out of pain, out of fear. I don’t blame you. Humans are emotional patchworks. I know that you’re so much kinder than you let yourself understand. I know that you fit a few of the criteria for my ideal wife, besides the obvious (the main one being the fact that you are not a woman, though many of the traits are gender neutral.) I know that you hate the rain. I know you care about me, and you regulate me even if you mask it as bothersome behavior.
You know almost everything about me. It’s not like I’ve been an open book, but you read me like one anyway, thumbing through my pages and leaving them torn and bent. It infuriates me. I don’t even know if you could love me if you tried. Whenever someone mentions love, your eyes go all glossy like it’s a concept far removed from yourself, like it couldn’t apply to someone like you. Sometimes I want to reach inside of your chest and pull out your beating heart just to show you that you are alive. You are so painfully human, so much so that I can’t help but love you. Violent analogies won’t get me anywhere, but you tend to bring out violence in me like nothing else. Maybe it’s because I’m afraid. There’s something frightening about your beauty, the same way the ocean is scary. I’m drowning in you. I wish I could have you, but you wouldn’t love a simple man such as myself, and you are not my ideal wife whatsoever, and we are coworkers, and I’m bad at understanding you, and you piss me off, and I could and have made a bullet point list on why I should absolutely not entertain the idea of a relationship with you, and yet I’m here, thinking about it. Thinking about you.
Do you steal my socks to have a reason to come see me? You don’t need a reason, Dazai.
Please come home,
Doppo Kunikida