Chapter Text
Atsushi blinks again, clearing the fog from his mind. Something must be up with him today; maybe his flashbacks are getting to him, or the hallucinations… but he knows the truth. Today is just as regular as any other day. He is doing just fine, his ability is behaving, Dazai is not, and Kunikida is getting after him for it. Typical. Right?
So why can’t he focus? Atsushi looks around the office again, trying to locate the source of his distraction. It’s not the clock as it doesn’t actually tick. It’s not Yosano’s office because she has no patients right now. Surely it isn’t Dazai because Atsushi is used to his shenanigans by now. So what is it?
Another lapse. What was he thinking about? It was something… but he can’t remember. Surely if it was that important he would be able to recall…
And again. What was it that he had forgotten? And why is it so hard to think?
Again. Atsushi realizes that he is getting no work done. He has a report open on his computer. He has to fill it out. Kunikida wants him to. Atsushi recenters himself and takes a deep breath, preparing to actually be productive for once. He lifts his hands and rests them just above the keyboard, ready to type. He tries to find his spot on the page, but he can’t quite find it.
Is this report new?
He doesn’t remember ever beginning work on it.
He blinks again, brushing off the wave of confusion. Why can’t he remember? What is capturing his focus so thoroughly that his thoughts scatter every five seconds?
And then he spots it. There.
Dazai is clicking a pen.
Over.
And over.
And over again.
Atsushi blinks heavily, trying to figure out why that simple sound is affecting him so deeply. He watches as Dazai nonchalantly clicks the pen once more, only to find that his thoughts vanish. When he finally remembers what he had been thinking about, he is just in time to watch Dazai click the pen again.
Click. What was he just thinking about?
Click. His eyelids are so heavy.
Click. Oh well. Maybe he can just rest.
Click. Yeah… just for a moment…
Click. Click. Click.
And then he is rudely awakened by a hand jostling his shoulder.
“Atsushi-kun, how come you’re sleeping on the job? And a bigger question – how come Kunikida-kun is letting you get away with it?” Dazai pouts, his voice a childish whine. Something in his eyes tells Atsushi that he knows exactly what he is doing, however.
Before he even has a chance to respond, Atsushi feels another wave of confusion and heaviness wash over him, submerging him in darkness again. Yet, he can’t find it in himself to fight it. He’s sure he could if he wanted… but it just feels too damn relaxing.
Until he is woken again by Dazai, a visible grin on his face.
“C’mon, Atsushi-kun! Rise and shine! You have very exciting reports to write. Wouldn’t want to miss it!” Dazai chirps. “Or maybe you actually would and you’re rebelling against Kunikida’s harsh reign. Why didn’t you tell me? You know I just love anything that gets on his nerves!”
Atsushi fishes for an answer. He’s sure that he looks utterly stupid, his jaw hanging open as he searches for any excuse to placate his coworker. If only he actually knew what was going on.
“Hm, cat got your tongue? Such a shame. I wonder when you’ll figure out my little puzzle.” Dazai muses before clicking the pen once again, sending Atsushi reeling.
Somewhere, deep in the back of his mind, Atsushi understands what is going on. His conscious mind just can’t quite access that information. Not that he really wants to, either. He happens to be extremely comfortable in this strange yet warm darkness he keeps finding himself in.
Another click of the pen. Then another. And another. With each click, Atsushi’s capability to think gets worse and worse. The fog in his head is so thick and calm that he doesn’t even bother fighting it. At this point, he doesn’t care what is causing it. All he knows is that he feels better than he has in months.
He vaguely hears Dazai in the background, making some sort of comment about how he is a ‘silly little kitty-cat,’ but Atsushi can’t be bothered to listen closer or even to care. Usually he would chastise Dazai for calling him a kitty-cat. He’s a tiger, damn it. But that train of thought disappears with the next pen click.
Eventually, he reaches a point where he isn’t even paying attention anymore. The pen clicks melt together, his thoughts turn to mush, his body relaxes deeper, and his awareness vanishes.
For days. Or… or is it weeks? How long has he felt like this? It feels like it’s been a lifetime. Not that he’s complaining. This is ecstasy. Whatever happened to make him feel like he can float on clouds can happen again any day and he wouldn’t complain. He’s quite sure that this feeling will never end, and he is content with that.
Until he feels a hand on his shoulder again. Fuck. Suddenly, he becomes aware of just how… gone… he was. He can’t really recall the last five minutes… or ten minutes, or however long he was floating like that. Atsushi begrudgingly opens his eyes, savoring the last taste of that bliss as the fog clears from his head. He sees Dazai, grinning wildly.
“Well, Atsushi-kun, it seems like my little experiment worked! You CAN train cats, too, not just dogs! Pavlov would be so proud of me for my discoveries. Do you think they will credit me in textbooks on classical conditioning, my dearest coworker?” Dazai asks.
“Classical… conditioning? Pavlov? I’m sorry, what?” Atsushi questions, trying to get answers.
“Why, my friend, I just conditioned you to respond in a certain way to a pen click. Nothing much.”
Atsushi stares. Nothing much?! Is he insane? Wait- don’t answer that. Atsushi can’t help but let his anxiety get to him a little. What does Dazai mean by conditioning?
Dazai clearly takes note of how nervous Atsushi has become. “Oh, chill out, Atsushii-kun. It’s no big deal!”
“No big deal? I’m sorry, Dazai-san, but-” he starts, only to be interrupted.
“Oh, yeah, no big deal! I used to do this trick all the time with Chuuya back in the day. See, it’s totally harmless! Just a bit of fun for when I’m bored. And we all know how bored I can get here. I hate work! So I decided to play with your mind, Atsushi-kun.” Dazai states.
“Play with my mind, Dazai-san? What? I- I can’t deal with this right now, I have too much-”
Click.
And then he’s gone again.
Going deeper.
And deeper.
Down.