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Assistant: Title: The Art Of Deception
        Author: bleachscentedcandle bleachscentedcandle 
        Chapter: 1/4 
        Summary: Shūji Aizawa was dead. Or, at least that’s what the police and his parents thought. Shota? Not so much. It never made sense to him. The note left on his nightstand didn’t seem to be written by him, but the blood on it.. it was all his.Just a few miles from their house, they found the same blood stains on the grass—it was his. It should make sense, right?8 years pass without a trace of his brother, and Shota just assumes him to be dead. He couldn’t be more wrong. Because, Mister Dazai Osamu shows up in his life.…Shūji Aizawa became Dazai Osamu when he was fourteen years old, working beneath the newly boss of the port mafia. He had left his family behind without a second thought because he just couldn’t seem to die, and this doctor would help him. Right?Years later, when Dazai left the Port Mafia and joined the ADA, he buried the last of Shūji in a ditch, content to never dig it up again.But, when he and his partner, Kunikida, are given an assignment to infiltrate U.A. and work undercover as teachers, he’s forced to face the demons he tried so desperately to bury.—Or, Kunizai become U.A. teachers & Dazai is Aizawa’s ‘dead’ brother! Ft. Yosano as RG’s assistant.
            
            the mission is given, and they are more than ready. meanwhile we get a bit of a dive into dazai’s past as shūji, and shota now after all these years.cw: mentions of a past suicide attempt / aftermath of a suicide, self-harm mentions. tell me if i missed any!
        Contents: Chapter 1: the plan
    

    

        
          
          
            the mission is given, and they are more than ready. meanwhile we get a bit of a dive into dazai’s past as shūji, and shota now after all these years.cw: mentions of a past suicide attempt / aftermath of a suicide, self-harm mentions. tell me if i missed any!
          
        

      
        
          
          (See the end of the chapter for  notes.)
          
      
  

  
  
    
    “I have a new mission for you all.”Dazai spins around in his chair, holding the edges of it while absent-mindedly humming a song. He ignores the looks that he can feel on his back, instead opting to play with his cuticles. There were 5 of them in the room. The president, Ranpo, Kunikida, Yosano, and Dazai himself. They were sitting at a long table, one that reminded him too vividly of the one he, Elise and Mori used to sit at all those years ago to have ‘family dinners’ so he liked to call. He always found it amusing, considering Elise wasn’t even real to begin with. 
  “I’m not gonna call Elise mom,” He deadpans. ‘She looks like she could be my little sister you sick f@ck.’ He wants to add. But, he doesn’t. Mori only chuckles.

  “Of course not! You’re mine, Dazai, mine only. Just as Elise is only mine as well.” And at the mention Dazai had nearly vomited, thankful for the fact that he had only been playing with his food rather than eating it. His wife. That’s what he called her. Sure, that declaration wasn’t unusual, but it still always made him sick to his stomach to hear it.

  But what was Dazai to him? Perhaps a toy, or a doll that he played with over and over again, tempting it to break. A game, even. But, that bit was obvious. He smirks, picking up his glass of water and taking a sip.
A sick and troubled man indeed.”-zai!” He perks up, but not at the calling of his name. He had heard it, but he had just simply decided to ignore it. No, it was only when the spinning of his chair stopped did that actually get his attention. He looks up at a frustrated Kunikida and watches as he pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Dazai pouts, slumping in the chair. “Kunikida-kun~ You’re so rude to me.. What could you possibly want?” There’s a twitch in the blonde’s eyebrow that he chooses to ignore, though it’s a daily occurrence. So, he’s not shocked when the man takes him by the collar and lightly shakes him.In fact, he only chuckles, although he knows that if such a thing happened just a few years earlier he would have attacked the man on the spot. Training and self-control, it’s a wondrous thing.With a look from the president, Kunikida lets go of Dazai with a heavy sigh and sits back down, massaging his temples. Dazai almost feels bad. Key word, almost, because he never does. “Stop zoning out! We’re in the middle of a meeting for gods sake, would it kill you to just pay attention?” He chastises angrily, and Dazai rolls his eyes. “Did you even hear what the president said?”No, is the answer. But he doesn’t give Kunikida the satisfaction.Dazai hums, leaning forward and resting his bandaged forearms on the table, taking hold of the folder that was in front of him. He opens it, catching sight of the picture attached to it. It was a building, the size equivalent to that of a college campus. But it wasn’t, it was a high school. U.A High School, to be exact. The most prestigious ‘hero’ school in Japan. This excluded Yokohama of course, they were shut down from the rest of Japan—that included the world as well.To outsiders, Yokohama was a city dictated by villains. They were wrong, of course. There were no villains here, only people trying to get by, or people with sick urges amongst other things. Dazai knew who he was, and he knew that’s what he would always be. Flipping through the folder, he notes the names of the teachers, and the classes. Though he stops on a specific one, his eyes catching the picture. It was a gangly looking man. He had yellow goggles on above his face, and a stubble on his chin. His hair was long and black, and it looked greasy. A sense of familiarity strikes him, and his eyes drift over to look at the name and, oh of course— He doesn’t given a physical reaction. Not a twitch of his muscle, not a facial expression, not a sound. He just stares, indifferently. But his inner turmoil? It’s different. He reads the name over and over again. Shōta Aizawa, Shōta Aizawa, Shōta. Aizawa.This wouldn’t end well, but what choice did he have? Sure he looked different now, but did he look different enough to fool his dearest brother? He chuckles internally, flipping through pages and looking at the other teachers with a thoughtful expression.”So.. the mission is to infiltrate U.A., the top school for heroes in training that also employs pro heroes as teachers?”Ranpo smirks at his lighthearted questioning, and Fukuzawa speaks up, nodding his head. “That’s right.”Dazai cackles when he glances over at Kunikida, finding the flabbergasted expression on his face, and his glasses centimeters from falling off his face. He reaches over, lightly pushing them back up onto the bridge of his nose. “There ya go, buddy.” This seems to break him out of his stupor and then the questions come spilling out.”Excuse me for doubting you, but how would this even work? We’re from a place that’s closed off to everyone, and besides how would we even get close enough to U.A. to be able to conduct this mission in the first place?” At this, Ranpo snaps his fingers, which brings the whole tables attention to him.He takes his lollipop out of his mouth, putting his feet up on the table and kicking back in his chair. “It’s simple Kunikida! You two will go undercover as teachers, while Yosano-san will become the nurses aid, since her ability would prove to be quite useful to her in some instances.” Yosano nods from where she sits, her arms crossed against her chest. She looks concentrated, taking this seriously for god knows what reason.Dazai whines, pouting, and crosses his arms. Ranpo turns to look at him with a teasing smile. “Are you serious? You two really think I could become a teacher? Me of all people?” Ranpo shrugs his shoulders, putting his lollipop back into his mouth and holding it against his cheek. “It’s not about if you can or not, because you have to and you will. Plus, we’ve already forged documents and sent them in! They don’t know you guys are from Yokohama, and besides, you three have already been accepted for the new school year.” This time, Dazai’s jaw drops and he nearly short circuits.
  He has to be joking.
Ranpo only raises an eyebrow, continuing to suck on his lollipop. 
  Definitely not joking.
He opens his mouth to complain, but Kunikida smacks his hand over it, which elicits a soft yelp from the man, followed by a pout beneath the skin covering his lips. “We’re doing it.” He says to Fukuzawa, but with the way his expression is trained on Dazai he knows that it’s a warning. All he can do is slump back against his chair and sigh.The president doesn’t so much as raise an eyebrow, just bringing out more case files and giving each of the three one of them. “The purpose of your mission is to find out more intel on a man who goes by the name of All For One. His real name is something we don’t know just yet, but we will find out.” The man sighs, “Usually I wouldn’t push the agency into a matter not involving Yokohama, but this is more.. serious.”Upon hearing this, both Yosano and Dazai sit up straight. She blinks slowly, giving him a confused look. “What do you mean?”“Apparently, this man was strong enough to almost defeat their top hero years ago. He put him in the ground, but evidence points at All For One still being alive. He’s so dangerous because he knows of ability users, and once finished with Musutafu, his intentions are clear.” Fukuzawa doesn’t have to say the rest, as Dazai’s face turns serious.”He intends on destroying Yokohama as well.” Dazai finishes, his eyebrows furrowing.The president only nods, and Kunikida gives a confused look. “He’s just one man, and with the amount of ability users here I’m sure we could take him and whatever army he brings on.” It’s common knowledge that abilities are stronger than quirks, but it doesn’t feel right. Dazai knows there’s a catch, but—Oh.The realization dawns on it, and he can tell when Ranpo notices. “He can take quirks, and maybe even abilities too.” He deadpans. Fukuzawa releases a heavy sigh.Ranpo b@tts in, “I think so, and it doesn’t seem like an idea that’s so far-fetched that it couldn’t be true. And if All For One can take abilities, then we need to cut him down now, before he gets the chance to step foot in Yokohama.” The brunette only offers a weak smile, “Ah, of course if you say it it’s true. After all, Ranpo-kun is so smart.”Ranpo doesn’t smile, he only manages a grim look. “Even though it’s close to impossible, I really hope that just this once you’re wrong about my capabilities, Dazai.”Though Dazai knows he isn’t. Because Ranpo may be smarter than him, but Dazai was smart too. All evidence pointed to this outcome, and Dazai knew it.”Wait, hold on a second—if it’s a villain we’re looking for, why are we going to work at a hero school?” He asks, and Ranpo seems to beam at the question. Cocky b@st@rd. But he was so admirable too.He leans forward in his chair, glancing to Dazai. “Do you wish to say the words?”The brunette only shrugs, “Because there’s likely a traitor at U.A. working for him. If we bust the traitor, then we’re a step closer to finding him and taking him out.” Kunikida shook his head, “But if the number one hero of Japan couldn’t stop him, what makes you so sure the Armed Detective Agency will be able to?”Instead of Ranpo speaking up this time, the president does, clearing his throat and resting his hands on the table. “When the time comes, you’ll know how we’ll pull it off, but for now, you need to focus on the current mission—finding the U.A. traitor.”The room remains silent for a moment before Dazai is glancing up and opening his mouth, looking the president straight in the eye. “The school year starts in a month, what do we have to do to prepare for it?”Dazai Osamu wasn’t always like this.When he was Shūji Aizawa, he remembered being a happy child, a child who didn’t have to hide behind fake emotions in order to convince the world that he is truly human. Because Osamu isn’t human, there’s just no way.Shūji however, was as human as they come. His skin was plump and full of life, his eyes sparkling with excitement anytime someone mentioned anything sweet. It was still like this, however. At least one thing still stayed the same. Shūji had quite the sweet tooth, and so does Osamu.Sometimes he wonders what would have come if he had just opened up about his struggles to his family. Perhaps he would’ve continued to be bullied for being “quirkless”, and instead of trying to kill himself he went to see a therapist. The thought disturbs him even now, and he has to take a step away from the memories.He loved Shota dearly, he remembers. He had called him Sho-Chan as a child, and the name had stuck like glue. Not that Shota had minded it, of course he hadn’t—any nickname from his baby brother was something precious and cherished, something only reserved for the brunette.Sometimes people questioned if they were really even siblings, as he just looked so different from his brother. They had gone as far as accusing his mother of an affair, which upset him greatly. Shota always defended him though, claiming that Shūji just looked more like his mom, which wasn’t false. They were practically twins, and even now—he seemed to have grown into his looks. Or, he should say, her looks. It was as if someone had copy and pasted the two. Of course, he didn’t mind up until this point. It would become troublesome to hide.Shota’s friends seemed to like Shūji as well. He had met Hizashi when he was 9 years old, he was a very energetic blonde teenager who just loved to talk. He hadn’t expected Shota to become friends with someone like that, it was just so unlikely to him—but it felt right. And well, the glue to this friendship was known other than Oboro Shirakumo. A very polite young man, who took Shūji riding on a cloud every now and then without Shota’s knowledge. He was his favorite of Shota’s friends, no doubt.So, when Shirakumo died not long after, Dazai remembered being sad. Not as sad as Shota though. He couldn’t be there for his brother in the way he needed, which is what killed him. Because he was too young and too naive to understand.But, it seemed that just being in the black haired man’s presence did enough to at least bring a temporary smile to his face. Shota refused to cry in front of Shūji, a fact he didn’t comprehend until he was much older, and a member of the port mafia. Perhaps it was because he would feel embarrassed, or because he didn’t want Shūji to see his role model in such a way. Either way, it didn’t matter. The day Shūji went missing was the day Shota finally cracked, it had been the second worst day of his life. But the first? Was the day he was announced as dead. He was 22 years old, and for the first time in his life he had a break down so bad Kayama had to put him to sleep in order to keep him from harming himself or the people around him. At first, he didn’t want to believe it. There had been no body recovered, so how did they know he was actually dead? Even on the day of the funeral service, he was still convinced that Shūji wasn’t truly dead, starting arguments with those around him.How could they do this to Shūji? How could they just give up on him? That’s not what he deserved. But as days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months with no answer, Shota knew that Shūji wasn’t coming back. He knew that his little brother had also taken his life.They had found a suicide note in his room when they were clearing up it out. The parchment was stained with blood and something else that he could only describe as tears, and once he read over it new tear stains would soon adorn the paper. He had folded it up, shoved it into his pocket and left the house just like that.There was no more reason for arguing. No more reason for searching. No more reason for waiting up at night in hopes of Shūji somehow finding his new address and showing up at his doorstep. Because Shūji had killed himself, because he had wanted to be dead.And eight years later, that very thought still haunts him into eventful sleeps. They ranged from finding Shūji hanging from a ceiling, being unable to get his heart started again once he pulled him down, to the boy slitting his wrists open to the bone right in front of Shota, and him being able to do nothing but watch as the light faded from his eyes.It was torture.Shūji plagued his thoughts while he was sleeping and while he was awake. Everytime he closed his eyes, he would see his little brother, mangled beyond repair, and in those moments he’d become so much more grateful for his quirk. Using it meant that just for a bit he didn’t have to blink, didn’t have to succumb himself in that darkness and get the smallest flashes of his soft, baby like face.On nights where his younger brother was all he could think about it, he find it helpful to stare up at a starless sky, which is where he found himself now. He wondered, if heaven really existed, is Shūji finally happy up there? He sincerely hoped so.Lying atop of the roof of he and Yamada’s house, he tucks his hands under his head, ignoring the feel of the material scraping against his bare arms. He had just returned from patrol, changed into his pajamas and immediately went up to think—something he did often.He can smell the familiar scent of Yamada’s cherry scented shampoo before he sees or hears him, sitting up and glancing over to where his husband is climbing the roof. The blonde walks over to him and sits beside him wordlessly, wrapping his arm around him and pulling him in closer.Shota allows it, resting his head against his shoulder without even a peep, nor a second thought. They don’t speak, only sitting in silence, enjoying one another’s company. Yamada’s places a kiss on Shota’s temple, and the raven haired man can feel the tears building up in his eyes, blurring his vision.
  I miss you, Shūji.
 Somewhere, hours away, Dazai sits against a tree trunk, looking up at the stars through the small cracks of the branches. For once there’s a glum expression on his face, something that only he allowed himself to show once he was alone. It was a major improvement really. If he were still in the port mafia, it wouldn’t be like this.But he wasn’t there anymore.He finds that a heavy weight lifts itself off his shoulders once more upon being reminded of that fact, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He tilts his head back against the tree, closing his eyes.
  Thank you, Odasaku.
Late at night, in the principals office of U.A, a rodent sits at the desk, scrolling through applicant forms and clicking through them. However a few forms catch his eye, more so one of them. Clicking onto it, his beady eyes widen a bit.The man in the picture has short deep brown hair and lighter brown eyes, and it shows that he’s had quite a bit of experience with teaching kids. But, what he finds is that he’s quirkiness. Nezu hums quietly, a small smirk finding its way onto his face. How interesting.When he scrolls to the next file he sees another man with long blonde hair, pulled into a thin ponytail. He seems to have some sort of quirk that allows whatever object he writes into his notebook to become useful.Nezu squints, resting his furry cheek onto the palm of his hand. How useful.Finally, the next file—a woman with dark brown hair and purple undertones. Her quirk? A healing one, allowing her to heal anyone back to full health so long as they are half dead. How overpowered. There’s something about the three of them that causes him to move their applications into the accepted folder, sending out the email almost instantly. They all come from the same hometown, something they can’t be a coincidence. He doubts this Dazai is quirkless, and he’s determined to find out exactly what the man is hiding.But for now, he closes his computer and spins around in his chair without another thought on the matter.
  
  

    
      
        
        
          i’m already not liking this fic tbh! i love the idea of it, but my writing is sooo not it. but, i’ll keep updating if you guys want me to!! <3'
User: Can you translate the chapter 1?
User: Can you translate the chapter 1?
Assistant: