“Atsushi needs to be trained,” the President says easily, arms crossed he looks at his seated and lazy subordinates. Atsuhi stands uncomfortably in the corner as they all give him the stink-eye. “Someone must undertake the task. Ranpo?”

Ranpo looks up at the President, fiddling with his glasses. “No.” He says. There is a betrayal in his tone that nobody has the desire to address, especially when they see him crush the glasses in his fist.

“Kunikida?” The President says with an eyebrow raised.

Kunikida shrugs, clearly not too keen. “Fukuzawa-san, Dazai seems interested in the job.”

Interested would be the understatement of the century. Dazai is rocking side to side in his chair giddily, waiting for the President to offer the position of Atsushi’s trainer to him. The President winces at the idea, not that Dazai seems to either notice or care, and says in a resigned tone, “Dazai, would you teach Atsushi hand-to-hand combat?”

Dazai stands up. “Yes, I shall do it!” He grabs Atsushi’s forearm and steers him out of the room. “Have fun on your next mission!” he shouts over his shoulder.

Kunakida looks towards the President worridely, “What’s the next mission?” and his face falls when he sees the President’s expression. “Dazai get back here!” He stands up in a hurry –

Dazai closes the door between them, muting the sounds of Kunakida’s anger, and leads Atsushi to one of the separate training rooms with a grin. “So, you want training, Atsushi?”

“Yes, Dazai-san. I don’t want to be a burden on the Agency.” Atsushi rubs his hands together. “You will not go too hard on me, yes?”

Dazai unrolls a mat from the corner and lays it out in the centre of the room. “Well, if I don’t go hard on you, you’ll never learn, right?”

Atsushi clears his throat awkwardly. “I guess not, Dazai-san.”

Dazia grins at him, excited for the torture Atsushi will endure. He stands him in the middle of the mat and fixes his posture, angling his fists so they are in an appropriate position to punch. “Go on,” Dazia encourages. “Take a swing at me.”

Atsushi winces at the thought.

“Go for the throat or stomach. Remember, the position of the punch is as important as how much strength is behind the hit. You are quite tiny,” Dazai says with a smile. “You will do well with quicker punches and speed rather than putting a lot of energy into one blow. Keep your ankles as wide as they are now; it will help you keep your balance.” Dazai motions for Atsushi to hurry up.

Atsuhi feebly surges forward and clips Dazai’s jaw.

Dazai’s face doesn’t even jerk back.

He raises an eyebrow at Atsuhi and starts to snort. “Wow, you’re weaker than a kitten.” He laughs at Atsushi’s bewildered face and snorts again. “Funny to think you’re a tiger.”

Atsushi’s arms fall out of position and he looks nervously at Dazai. “Sorry,” he says.

Dazai just laughs before telling Atsushi to reposition his arms and try again. Atsushi takes a few more useless swings before Dazai begins to get impatient. “Come on,” Dazai says. “I’ve seen you fight the others, you’re not normally this bad.”

Atsushi shrugs and Dazai suddenly swings him to the floor. “What, you need to feel more in the zone?” he asks, pressing his forearm to Atsushi’s throat. “You angry yet?” he hisses.

Atsushi closes his eyes, taking deep breaths. The pair are motionless on the floor as Dazai waits for a response and Atsushi tries to calm himself –

His tail and ears pop out.

They both still.

Dazai leans off his body and Atsushi tries to look away in embarrassment.

“Oh,” Dazai says quietly. He looks at the ears on Atsushi’s head and the flush in his cheeks. “Oh,” he repeats.