Dazai Osamu
Dazai was never one to really follow orders. At least, not before Mori. But even then, Mori had forced him to put in his prosthetic eye for this mission, and he could already feel the dull ache of wearing it begin to creep up on him. So was it really his fault if he suddenly disobeyed orders, listened in on Mori’s conversation with the so-called ‘wizards’, and suddenly decided it would be fun to interrupt them?
And suddenly was able to blame his prosthetic eye?
“Your son, Dazai Osamu, has been accepted into Hogwarts, school of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” He heard the old man— Dumbledore —say, and something clicked in Dazai’s mind. He had been wrong to assume the Wizarding world was false after all.
In reality, it wasn’t that far off from the existence of Abilities. It’s reasonable that there would be magic out there, since the two were so similar. He had been stupid to think otherwise.
“Now what sort of nonsense is that?” Mori chuckled, voice light and cheerful. The sound was so obviously fake in Dazai’s ears that he had a hard time believing that Snape and Dumbledore didn't spot it— but not everyone was as perceptive as Dazai was.
“We assure you, Doctor Mori, this is no joke.” The old man continued, “Your son has magical potential.”
“You really must be joking. There isn't a thing that could even possibly be magical about the boy. He's ordinary in every way!”
“Doctor Mori,” Snape drawled, chilly and exhausted as though the conversation hadn't just started. “There must be something. Things unexplained by common sense.”
Dazai could hear the amusement oozing from Mori, along with the smile plastered across his face. “Really, you must be mistaken. Dazai is nothing but—”
“Mori-san.” Dazai says evenly, dead gaze locked onto him. And the room goes completely quiet as Mori sends him a death glare and the other two take in his appearance. Looking through the side of his eye, Dazai finds two very contradicting reactions on their faces.
Dumbldore wore one of interest and confusion. Snape’s face was masked with a flurry of mixed emotions, all bundled up neatly underneath a blank slate. Dazai found himself proud of causing both.
“Dazai,” Mori said, a dangerous undertone lurking beneath. “I thought you were supposed to be resting in your room?” He frowns— a false thing filled with mock concern. “You’re supposed to be- taking it easy, after your. . . accident.” He continues tentatively, a barely-there glance darting in the direction of the guests.
A smile plasters itself across Dazai’s face, “Aww, but Mori-san,” Dazai whines, “I’m feeling so much better already!”
Mori waves the comment off with his hand, “Rest can assure that it stays that way. Now, what did you come to tell me?”
Dazai sighs. Could Mori be any less fun? “Elise-chan is being difficult again.” He says. “Kanojo ga kiraidesu. (I hate her.)” Dazai’s smile slips from his face as his posture relaxes, shoulders folding forwards. A careful glance to their company reveals the two have no idea how to speak Japanese.
“De? (So?)” Mori responds.
“Kono hito-tachi wa mahotsukaidesu ka? (Are these the wizards?)” Dazai asks, relishing in the moment of panic that washes over Mori’s eyes.
“Hai. Kareradesu. (Yes. That’s right.)” Mori says, his hands interlaced over his knee’s. “Anata wa ue no kai ni todomarubekidatta. (You should have stayed upstairs.)”
“Kimi wa omoshirokunai yo! (You’re no fun!)” Dazai whined, “Sorera o hyoji sezu ni sosa suru ni wa dosureba yoidesu ka? (How do I manipulate them without seeing them?)”
A cleared throat echoes throughout the room, and both Dazai and Mori turn towards Snape, who seems to be over his previous Dazai-induced dilemma (one of many, many to come). Mori seems to collect himself, and leans back into his seat with a smile on his face.
“Sorry about that, gentlemen. Dazai can be. . .” Mori sends a glare his way, “. . .disagreeable at times. Ue no kai, Dazai. Otona-tachi ga shabette imasu. (The adults are talking.)”
“Hey, I’m not that young!” Dazai shoots at Mori, eyes alight with faux annoyance. “You were talking about me, too, so my presence is just as justified as Dumbledore-kocho.”
Mori’s annoyance leaks onto his face as his eyes narrow, grin turning slightly manic. Dazai could already hear what Mori would be saying if they had no guests— Dazai-kun, you’re so cute when you’re angry~!
A tense silence fills the room, the tension so palpable you could cut it with a knife. Their eyes were locked, the stares piercing into eachother as they both dared the other to back down and give up the battle. But Dazai was never one to give up.
“Perhaps it is. . . best, if the boy listens.” Dumbledore interrupts hesitantly, hand reached out slightly. “After all, if he is going to attend Hogwarts, he’ll need to be aware of what is happening.”
An innocent tilt to the head complete with a look of curiosity, and Dazai could tell that he had won his way into the conversation.
“Alright. I’m still not convinced that this isn’t just some elaborate prank, however.” Mori continues, sighing contently. “The idea of magical schools of witchcraft is. . . unbelievable, to put it simply.” He laughs it off, awkward smile plastered over his face.
Dazai’s face proceeded to light up with a line of emotions; confusion, disbelief, and then, finally, childhood innocence and excitement. “I have magic!?” He gasps, eye aching hollowly as his eye widened.
And oh, how Dazai wished he could cut open his wrist and cause just another problem for Mori.
“Dazai, don’t be silly.” Mori laughs. “Theres no such thing as magic.”
“We assure you, Doctor Mori,” Dumbledore interrupts, soft grin spread over his face, “magic is a very real thing. If you will, Professor.”
Sighing, Snape pulls out a dark wooden stick— wand —and flicks it through the air at Mori’s cup of tea, voice drawling quietly as he says “Wingardium Leviosa.” And that’s when he feels it. Dazai’s eyes widen minutely as the air changes, charging with energy and physically lifting the cup from the table.
“There. . . this must be some sort of. . .” Mori says quietly, standing to get a better look at the cup. “This is. . . real?”
“Very real, Doctor.” Snape hisses, slipping his wand back into the confines of his cloak. The energy holding the cup feels to waver, and Dazai steps forward to grab it before it can shatter on the table.
He cringes as he takes a sip, and glares at Mori. “No honey? Really?”
“And. . Hogwarts, where is it?” Mori asks, choosing to ignore Dazai’s comment. “If I am to send Dazai there. . . how would I contact him?”
“Familiars are sent here and back to exchange letters,” Dumbledore explains, “They are animals that serve wizards and witches. As messengers or spies, it doesn’t quite matter, but students use them as mess—”
“Alright.” Mori hums, “As long as I may contact him. . . I suppose he can go.”
“We should be off, then.” Dumbledore announces, rising to his feet. “We have many places to be today, and are quite busy. My associate here will be returning soon to take Mr. Dazai to get his wand and supplies for the year at Hogwarts.” He says as he walks quickly to the door, waving his wand and opening the door to someplace that is definitely not the streets of Yokohama.
And with no less than a spare glance from Snape, the pair is gone and Dazai and Mori are left in silence. Sighing, Mori places a hand on Dazai’s shoulder. “You’re lucky that turned out well, Dazai. I do not appreciate taking risks like that.”
“I had it all under control,” Dazai laughs, taking another sip from Mori’s tasteless tea. “They’re Wizards, not officers, Mori-san.”
His grip tightens. “Be thankful of how cute you are, Dazai-kun. Now come along— I don’t trust you to have put your eye in correctly.”
Dazai looks up at Mori, smiling mischievously. “What happened to me being your good little prodigy, Mori-san?”
Mori smiles back, planting another kiss on his forehead. And just like always, it made Dazai feel sick to his stomach. He was used to it by now, though.
He had to be.