Atsushi shorts

✨️ Schizophrenia ✨️

The director was there, but he knew he shouldn't have been, the man who haunted Atsushi day and night was dead now, so why was his presence in Atsushi’s head only growing? The occasional figure or phrase slipping its way through Atsushi's vision or ears was the extent of his hallucinations, until the headmaster died, that is. Once he was dead, Atsushi only saw him more frequently, and heard his hurtful whispers constantly. It wasn't quite enough to hurt his job and the worst was confined to when he was home, so he told nobody. Some picked up on his odd behavior, more frequent spacing out, flinching at nothing, or intently watching a spot on the wall that is blank. Those who noticed grew more concerned as time went on, the tiger only seeming to get worse.
"Atsushi." Kunikida tried to get his attention.
"Atsushi." He repeated, irritation already present in his voice.
Kunikida looked at the weretiger more intensely, studying his body language. He appeared to be relaxed, but he definitely wasn't. He was tense and his eyes were unblinking as he stared at a wall, deeming whatever was there more of a threat than Kunikida was a priority.
"Dazai." His partner hummed at his name "what's up with Atsushi?" Kunikida, as emotionally oblivious as he was, could tell something was wrong with the weretiger.
"Not sure." Dazai's face had a rare solemn look to it, "he's been like this for a while."
Kunikida nodded, worried for the agency’s weretiger.
oOo
The rest of the agency had gone out for lunch, leaving Atsushi all alone in the office. He had used his paperwork, which, admittedly, was piling up, as an excuse to stay behind. Atsushi just didn't want to have to pass by the headmaster again, not until he had to. This morning, instead of staying in Atsushi's dorm like he usually did, the headmaster had followed him and remained there, standing by the agency's door. Suddenly, he heard a lock click, and Yosano stepped out of the infirmary. Yosano didn't seem surprised to see him sitting alone in the agency's office, nor did she say anything as she walked up to Atsushi and put herself where he wouldn't be able to see the headmaster. An action meant to calm him instead panicked him, not being able to see the headmaster was worse, then he didn't know how close he was to Atsushi, nor did the boy know what he had in his hands for his punishment this time around. He attempted to look over Yosano's shoulder, but she stopped him.
"What are you trying to look at, Atsushi?" She asked, her voice gentle yet still demanding an answer.
"It's nothing, just a bug on the wall." Atsushi replied, nervous.
It was a terrible excuse, but the boy hadn't expected someone to ask him, and his mind was already clouding with panic.
"Well, we need to talk about this 'nothing' since it's bothering you so much." Yosano was already moving, her hand gently wrapped around Atsushi's wrist to have him follow.
Yosano led them to the infirmary, the headmaster didn't follow, but his voice did, it was deafeningly loud in his ears, almost drowning out what Yosano was saying completely.
When Yosano put a hand on his shoulder, he flinched, but the whispers stopped. He looked at the woman wide eyed in amazement, he had tried all he could think of, but the whispers never went away, only quieted. His eyes started to water and he could feel the burn in his throat already from holding in sobs.
"Thank you." The tiger croaked before he passed out, his days of sleepless nights because of the whispers or the headmaster catching up to him as soon as they quieted.
oOo
When Atsushi woke up, he found himself still in the infirmary, the blinding lights like laser pointers in his eyes. He shifted his arm to cover his eyes, it moved slowly, lethargic. He heard the click-clack of Yosano’s heels on the floors as she walked over. He could hear a glass being put on the metal tray beside his bed, and Yosano lowering herself into the chair.
“Are you ready to talk now?” Yosano asked him, he could not see her face, but he could tell she was disappointed, maybe sad.
“Sure.” The boy croaked out, his voice hoarse from the lack of water it received recently.
Yosano slowly moved to help the boy to sit up, then handed him the glass of water. He drank it, slowly, before handing it back. Yosano sat back down, waiting for the boy to start talking.
After a moment of silence, Yosano asked “Who are you seeing?”
“Headmaster.” Was Atsushi’s reply.
Yosano hummed, then “What else, Atsushi?”
“I hear them, the people from the orphanage.” The boy whispered, fearing the doctor's reaction.
Yosano moved slowly to put a comforting hand on the boy's back.
“What do they say to you?” She asked, her own voice now a whisper.
“That I'm useless, a waste of space, a murderer, a monster.” The boy stated, his voice flat, as though he was stating a fact, and to him, he was.
“Are those true?” Yosano asked.
“Of course.” Came the boy's reply.
“How so?” Yosano questioned, her heart having dropped hearing the boy admit that such hurtful words were true, that to him, they were fact, an undeniable truth that he had to live with.
“I don’t know how to do most things others do.” Atsushi said, an objective truth, one most in the agency already knew.
“That’s true, but that’s not your fault, whoever raised you is at fault for that, children only learn as much as they're taught, afterall.” Yosano replied, her voice steady with reassurance.
The boy’s head was spinning, he still could not comprehend why she cared so much, when he had told others of his hallucinations, they waved him off, they had never believed him before. So why now? Why does someone care now, now that the boy is too far gone in his own mind to be fixed.
“What makes the other things they said true?” The doctor asked, a distraction from the boy's thoughts.
“I,” The boy hesitated, “I killed someone when I was younger, and then I.” The boy cut himself off, his face twisted in disgust.
“What happened, Atsushi?” The doctor pressed.
“I ate him. I was so hungry, the orphanage hadn’t fed me in days, I still remember how he tasted.” The boy's breathing was faster now, as unpleasant memories resurfaced.
“That’s okay, Atsushi.” Yosano reassured the boy.
“How? How is that okay, Yosano? I ATE someone, how am I not a monster?” The boy asked, nearing hysterics.
“It wasn’t your fault, not truly. You were a starving child trying to survive, no one can fault you for that.” Yosano replied calmly, a facade she wore for the miserable boy infront of her. Yosano’s own head was subtly aching from the influx of information from the boy, her facade becoming harder to keep as he kept speaking.
“Yosano-sensei,” Atsushi began.
“It’s alright, Atsushi. You don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to.” Yosano replied.
“Then,” the boy paused, “Why do you care so much? No one has ever even believed me about the hallucinations.”
The boy’s dual-colored eyes stared into hers, a sad and exhausted boy is what those eyes were showing her. The same empty look that Dazai got on his really bad days, now reflected in the boys.
“Because, here at the armed detective agency, we’re family.” Yosano replied, a slightly strained smile on her face.
“Then, can I tell you something?” The boy asked, and Yosano nodded in turn.
“Does, “ He paused again, contemplating his words carefully. “Does hallucinating people that encourage you mean you're getting better?”
The doctor paused for a moment, thinking before she replied “Not necessarily. It could just mean that you’re codependent on the person you're hallucinating, which is arguably worse.”
The boy looked confused, “Worse?”
“Yeah.” Yosano said, “Usually it's harder for the person to let go of this positive encouragement than someone letting go of their abuser.”
“So, then,” Atsushi hesitated, “how do you make the person better?”
Yosano paused, considering the question, “It depends on the person, it could be as simple as other people giving them positive encouragement so that their brain will stop conjuring others to do it for you.”
The boy's hands were intertwined in his lap, his head down, “Thank you, Yosano.”
He suddenly fell sideways to lean on her, Yosano's hand going to cradle his head and play with his hair.
“It's no problem, Atsushi. You can always come to me when it gets bad, okay?”
“Okay.” The boy mumbled, sleepy from the warm embrace.