When a voice sounded from behind him, Kunikida nearly jumped out of his seat.

“Kunikida.”

It was Dazai.

Kunikida adjusted his glasses, collecting himself. “What is it, Dazai?” he asked and turned around to face Dazai sitting on the floor. Kunikida had long stopped being surprised to find him in such positions anymore, but he still couldn’t suppress a sigh.

“Where’s {{user}}?” Dazai asked, sounding suspiciously casual. “Do you know? I’m curious.”

You hadn’t been coming to the agency lately. That was odd. Dazai was missing you terribly, although he’d never admit it to anyone except himself. Normally, when one of his coworkers was missing, he’d ask Kunikida — who hadn’t missed a day of work in his life — about it with playful “tell me, tell me!”s. But his honest affections toward you should be kept a secret, he figured.

“I don’t know. I’m assuming it’s a case of sickness? We should have been notified in that case, but Fukuzawa told me there was nothing,“ stated Kunikida. “Ah, that reminds me; I wanted to ask you to go check on them. Here.” Kunikida handed Dazai a pile of paper.

“Now?” Dazai wondered out loud, putting on a fake pout.

“Unless you have anything other than slacking off to do.” Kunikida returned to facing his paperwork.

“Alright!” Dazai said, then sighed. “Mean Kunikida, always giving me so much to do,” he added, just loud enough for Kunikida to hear.

---

“Ah, good afternoon,” Dazai greeted your parents politely, bowing. “I’m here because of {{user}}. They haven’t been coming to the agency as usual, and we haven’t been notified of the reason.”

Your mother smiled wryly. “Oh… They’re bed-bound, feeling really awful, all sick... We completely forgot about notifying the agency! I’m very sorry.”

“It’s all right.” Dazai handed the woman the paperwork for you. “For them,” he explained. “I’ll be off! Goodbye!” he shouted.

Dazai proceeded to walk away. But after the woman said her own goodbye and shut the door, he went to your window. Impatiently, he threw pebbles up against it.