Archive of Our Own

Chapter Text

The second time he walked into the shorter man, two days had passed and Dazai was slowly but surely growing accustomed to taking care of the dog. They definitely were not friends yet and he was pretty sure they wouldn’t ever be, but after taking the stranger’s advice to heart, Dazai started to lure him in with treats to get him to do what he wanted him to do, and it worked most of the time.
Sadly, this also meant that he ran out of treats rather quickly and had to buy new ones.

Kunikida did leave him with a sheet of instructions on what to do if he ran out of food, treats included, listing all the different treats the dog was allowed to eat.
If anyone were to ask Dazai, his best friend was doing a little bit too much. It wasn’t like the dog had any known allergies or something, he was just spoiled. He was sure the dog wouldn’t care if he bought him cheap treats instead.
Not like Dazai didn’t get it. He, too, had his favorite brand from which he bought everything if possible, and he, too, ate the same things over and over again. But when he did that, Kunikida called it ‘unhealthy’.

The ground on which Dazai was walking was slippery due to the cold weather, though there wasn’t any snow yet. The brunet didn’t know if there would be any before Christmas this year, though he didn’t doubt it.

The grocery store itself was not too far away from Kunikida’s place, though he had to admit he was somewhat surprised that it even was listed as a possible option for Dazai to buy things for the dog from. He would’ve expected his best friend to force him to go to an expensive, dog-specific pet store two hours away. To be fair, there was such a store mentioned on the list Kunikida had left him, but he probably knew that Dazai tended to be somewhat lazy and wouldn’t bother with getting to said store and back.
It wasn’t an extraordinary grocery store - due to the fact that it was located in a popular area for students, Dazai wasn’t surprised to see lots of them there. It was always busy at the store, no matter the time or day.

Dazai did appreciate the fact that they turned up the heating, though, as it was getting cold outside by now.

Dazai didn’t really like having to buy groceries. Shopping in general was not something he was a huge fan of. Really, if anyone were to ask him and he felt like being honest, the amount of options were enough to overwhelm him. He also despised the fact that the lights were always as bright as a lighthouse and that it was always crowded. Having to interact with the cashier also always managed to ruin his mood, even if he didn’t let it show.
But then again, having to run errands for some stupid dog already ensured that his mood was beyond safeable.

He also had a slight headache, probably due to the fact that he didn’t sleep much that night, or the night before that, or the night before that. Dazai was not very good at sleeping well. Granted, it wasn’t his fault that his mind decided to subconsciously torture him as much as possible, even while he was trying to sleep. Or, well, mayhaps it was. Dazai didn’t want to dwell on that thought too much.

And it was the same as always - the second the automatic door opened and welcomed Dazai into the crowded supermarket, he promptly wanted to turn around and run away. As he entered the store, it felt like he was being devoured alive by a beast in one piece, trapped inside of its stomach, barely able to breathe as the air was too stiff, and yet that was only the beginning. The smell that hit him almost made his toenails curl up and he regretted leaving his headphones on the kitchen table with Kunikida. Why had he done that? He knew it would overwhelm him. And that cruel music that was playing in the background! Background noise that was guaranteed to annoy everyone, just additional noise, an annoying droning. As if it wasn't already loud enough in the store thanks to the umpteen students.

Dazai sighed. He had to be quick or his mood would be utterly ruined for the rest of the day, and he was somewhat hoping to be a little productive later. The essay he had to write about human behavior as well as social and cultural phenomena portrayed in Genji Monogatari, a classic work of literature from the 11th century, was not going to write itself, after all. But Dazai didn’t feel like analyzing the book, he didn’t feel like doing anything, really.

Ignoring the blinding lights as much as possible, Dazai strolled through the high shelves. He didn’t need to actively search for the dog food section as he’s got the layout of the store memorized by now. When he did find the section, however, he had to actively look for the treats that Kotaro was allowed to eat. What a spoiled dog. God, he despised it.

Why was it that there were so many different brands of dog food? That wasn’t necessary. It wasn't that one, and it wasn’t the one next to it, and it wasn't that one, heavens, was it really that hard to find stupid "cheese beef jerky"? Dazai rummaged through the shelf, holding back another annoyed sigh. This was taking way longer than planned, and at this point, he doubted there was anything that could lift his mood enough again to be productive later.

That was, until he spotted familiar ginger hair on the other side of the shelf. He paused before bending down even more, unapologetically staring through the opening before grinning widely.

"Well, well, well," he said with a low voice and the man on the other side of the shelf visibly jumped. Dazai had managed to catch him off-guard! Amazing, how entertaining. Sadly, he didn’t drop his basket or something. Oh well. "If it isn’t Mr Dog Expert, Nakahara Chuuya."
Familiar blue eyes met his as the young man on the other side decided to bend down, now, too, and Dazai’s smile only grew while Nakahara Chuuya growled in annoyance.

"Not you again," he complained while Dazai clapped his hands in feigned delight before straightening up again. "Neh, Mr Dog Expert, won’t you come over so we can actually see eye-to-eye while talking without having to bend down?" He paused. "Ah. Well. I’d have to bend down either way…"

The young man nearly stomped around the shelf as he cursed under his breath. "Oi, you pain in the ass, what are you going on about?" Nakahara Chuuya wanted to know, gritting his teeth. The way he was clenching his fist around the duct tape he was currently holding looked funny, and Dazai didn’t hold back a snicker, something that seemed to aggravate the shorter man’s mood further. "I’m talking to you, you…" His eyes wandered over Dazai’s figure for a few seconds before he narrowed his eyes. "You extra stuff that comes with the bandages!"

Okay, that was a new one. Dazai blinked before he couldn’t help but laugh, covering his mouth with his hand while doing so. When he looked at the other man again, he seemed calmer now. Dazai assumed he’d get even more upset, considering he got annoyed by Dazai’s snickering already. "What’s so funny?" He asked, raising an eyebrow. Despite that, Dazai was sure he was holding back a smile.

How weird.

"Oh, it’s nothing," Dazai said, dramatically wiping away non-existent tears, the ghost of a smile still on his face, "that was just rather creative of you, that’s a new one, haven’t heard it before." A smug smile appeared on the not-quite-a-stranger-but-still-a-stranger’s lips. "I am pretty creative," he agreed before shrugging slightly. "I mean, I have to be. I’m trying to make a living with my creativity, after all. I mean. I will. Someday."

Interested, the brunet gave up on trying to find the right treats for now.

"Oh, really? How so? Are you an art student or something?"

Chuuya grinned, straightening up a little. "I am," he declared proudly, "and I am pretty good at it, too, if I dare to say so myself. Like. At painting. And drawing. And stuff."

Mockingly, Dazai now raised an eyebrow. "And stuff?" Nakahara Chuuya huffed. "You wouldn’t understand it anyway, why bother?" Dazai grabbed his chest in offense. "Pardon me, did you just imply that I am stupid?" The ginger crossed his arms in front of his chest and leaned back slightly. He looked at Dazai, a combination of bored and challenging. "Yeah. So?" Even though he was slightly surprised, he made sure not to show it. Instead, he stepped backwards dramatically. "Chuuya! How dare you say something like that? You just hurt my feelings! I’m so sad I might cry myself to death."

Nakahara Chuuya blinked. "Wait. When did I offer you to call me by my first name– Dazai, right?" Chuuya’s confusion - if not irritation - was obvious, at least to Dazai.

He turned his face away, still pretending to be hurt deeply. "But Chuuya, after you’ve hurt me this greatly, how else am I supposed to call you?"

"Uhm, by my name maybe?" Chuuya suggested, clearly annoyed. "Mayhaps," Dazai agreed, "though Chuuya is your name so I don’t know what you’re getting at." He tapped his finger against his chin, his face distorted into a thoughtful expression. "I could, of course, always give you a new name if you’d prefer that… I’m rather good at naming things."

He was, in fact, not. Or at least that’s what his friends thought. He, however, was pretty sure he was good at coming up with names if given enough time to research them.
Or if he cared enough. If he had the time to truly think about it, to consider all the factors that mattered (and didn't).

Chuuya seemed to grow even more irritated and he almost bared his teeth like a dog, something that was more than slightly amusing to Dazai. "Are you insane, you piece of shit? You're not giving me a new name!" Dazai simply shrugged. "Well then. Chuuya it is."

And with that, he faced the shelf full of dog treats again, turning away from the shorter man.

"What- oi, at least pay attention to me when you're talking to me!"

"But you're boring me," Dazai lied, sighing dramatically as if he were utterly exhausted and he could hear Chuuya gritting his teeth in suppressed anger, "and besides, I need to find the right treats for the dog."

For a moment, Chuuya didn't respond - and while Dazai almost desperately wanted to know what was going on, he couldn't simply turn to him, and thus he continued to look for said treats.

Then, Chuuya sighed and he could hear his footsteps coming towards him. They came to a halt right next to him. "What kinda treats are you looking for?"

"I'm looking for something called 'cheese beef jerky'," Dazai informed him, hiding his surprise about Chuuya just going along with his change of topic behind a nonchalant attitude while Chuuya started to walk again, down the aisle, to be exact, "and I just cannot seem to find it. It all looks the same to me. Truly, why do so many different treats even exist? I doubt it makes much of a difference what they eat-"

"You looking for this?"

Dazai - slightly offended by the interruption - looked towards him and lo and behold, there he was, holding the bags of treats in his hand. Dazai blinked before clapping his hands in exaggerated excitement.

"Oh, wow, you've found it! So you are useful after all!"

Chuuya clicked his tongue in sheer annoyance, practically throwing the bag at Dazai (who managed to catch it, making sure to make it look as smooth as possible while doing so). "Urghs, why am I even helping you? You're clearly the worst."
Dazai chuckled quietly, hiding his mouth behind his hand. "And yet you’re entertaining me greatly."
"Ah, that so? Thought I was boring you just now?" Chuuya raised an eyebrow, tone mocking. Dazai shot him a challenging smirk. "Hmm, seems like the hatrack isn’t capable of understanding the concept of time and the selective usage of certain words under specific circumstances which might change and therefore require new particular declamations or descriptions… or, to phrase it more accurately, the fact that human emotions and moods usually aren’t set in stone and may change within the blink of an eye, especially if new information or stimuli have been provided."

Chuuya didn’t respond for a moment. Then, "you really like to hear yourself talk, don’t you?"

That was a response Dazai hadn’t seen coming – though it’s something he’s been accused of many times before. Thus, he only hid his amused grin by turning to the side and shrugging his shoulders. "Mhm, I’m not too sure if someone who loves to infodump about dogs for hours gets to make fun of others for monologuing for not even a minute or two, especially if it was to implement a response to a question you yourself asked…"

Scoffing, Chuuya glared at him for a few seconds, something Dazai noticed because he was watching him out of the corner of his eye.
He truly was a weird guy – weirdly enough, though, Dazai was starting to believe he, for some reason or another, liked to converse with him. Their conversations didn’t make much sense, they weren’t much more than childish bickering, and yet he couldn’t help but admire how natural they seemed to arise.

"Whatever. Anyway, where’s the dog? And when will his owner be back to finally release the poor dog from your presence?"

Dazai couldn’t help but to internally shake his head at that. "He’s at home obviously, and sadly, not soon enough. What are you buying, by the way?"

Finally, Dazai decided to take a good look at the duct tape Chuuya was still holding in his hand. Surprised, Chuuya did the same. "Duct tape, obviously." He dragged the last word out in a mocking tone, clearly referencing Dazai's earlier use of it. Pleasantly surprised, he held back a small grin.

"Interesting. What do you need that for?"

"Why do you wanna know?"

"Well, mayhaps you’re planning to commit crimes or something. Every decent citizen would feel obligated to make sure that isn’t the case, right?" Not like Dazai would know. His friends call him a lot of – sometimes more sometimes less flattering – things, but a decent citizen isn’t one of them. A menace to society, yes – but calling him a decent citizen would be almost as unfitting as calling him a dog lover.

But it’s not like the redhead in front of him knew that.

Said redhead narrowed his eyes while he once again crossed his arms in front of his chest. "Even if that were true," he said, tone sharp, "what idiotic murderer would share their plans with someone that easily just because they asked?"

"Well," Dazai pursed his lips while tapping his fingers against the palm of his hand seemingly absent-mindedly, "I just assumed you’d be stupid enough."

"What’s that supposed to mean?!" Appalled, the art student flailed his arms, almost dropping the duct tape in the process. "See? That’s exactly why I assumed you’re stupid – you keep asking me to elaborate when the meaning’s perfectly clear." Dazai clapped his hands cheerfully while his face distorted into a smile that was atrociously taunting.

For a moment, he was sure the other man was about to go off on him. Instead, he took a deep breath while he rubbed his brows for a short moment. The glowering expression he made was almost enough to make Dazai laugh uncontrollably, but only almost.

"Why am I even talking to you?" Chuuya muttered more towards himself, though Dazai obviously didn’t miss the opportunity to poke fun at the stranger even further. "Because you’re obviously intrigued by my charms."

"What charms?" Chuuya deadpanned. Dazai had to hide his giggling behind his hand. Even though the other man kept asking why he was even indulging him, it was obvious he couldn’t help but to retort to their banter at every given opportunity. It felt awfully familiar, somehow.

"My, you tell me! You’re the one who’s charmed by me."

"I’m literally not. You’re repulsive."

"Well, at least I’m not short. How old are you again? Twelve?"

"You-!"

Dazai himself was surprised by how entertaining it was to rile him up; he was far too easy to tease.

"I’m twenty-two, just so you know," the ginger huffed before he took a deep breath and crossed his arms in front of his chest again while he took a step back. "Considering your childish behavior, you’re probably five, aren’t you?"

"Oh my, Chuuya! I’m flattered and positively surprised, why, I’m indeed five!" Dazai held back a chuckle. "That would at least give you an excuse for acting this childishly," Chuuya grumbled as if he weren’t indulging Dazai’s behavior. "What’s your excuse, then?" Dazai chirped cheerfully, leaning forward while holding the bag of treats right in front of his chest. Chuuya only glared at him for a moment before he huffed while turning away. "Urghs, whatever. No idea why I keep chatting with you, seriously…"

Dazai gasped, now leaning backwards as he grasped his chest with the same hand that was holding the treats. "Chuuya! You’re not going to just leave before explaining why you’d need that duct tape, now, are you?"

"And what if I am?" Chuuya actually had the nerves to start walking away. Dazai was slightly offended. "Well, then I’ll have to follow you to make sure you’re not committing any heinous crimes like any responsible citizen would." Chuuya stopped in his tracks and for a short moment, he didn’t move at all. Then, he swung his body right back towards Dazai, facing him again. "Don’t you dare follow me!" Dazai remained unimpressed. Seriously, was Chuuya trying to be intimidating or something? He looked like an angry chihuahua that was about to bite him. And sure, Dazai wouldn’t deny that a bite by such a tiny dog might hurt a little but it wasn’t like he’d be actually injured or pass away or anything. Well, unless it had rabies. Or any other disease that was transmissible through bites.
Maybe he shouldn’t risk it after all.

"Well, I wouldn’t have to follow you if you’d just tell me what you need it for. Or is it something so embarrassing that you can’t tell me?" Dazai grinned, tapping his finger against his chin as he pretended to think about it. Before he could come up with another joke, though, Chuuya sighed in exaggerated exasperation. "Urghs, fine. I just need it to fix my brush. I broke it in half the other day and since it’s my favorite – and was also hella expensive – I don’t want to replace it just yet."

The brunet stared at him for a second before his shoulders deflated.

"Wow, that’s boring," he said and Chuuya’s eyebrow twitched. "That’s too bad! I told you, so leave me the fuck alone now, will you?" Dazai once more pretended to think about it. "Hmm… no, I think I’ll stick around for a little while longer."

"Oh my God, can’t you just fuck off already?"

"I just told you! Are you already getting dementia at the ripe age of twenty-two? Or are you deaf? That’d be less embarrassing for you." Dazai himself was surprised about the fact that it was possible at all but his grin got even wider. "That aside, though, while I’m flattered, you don’t have to call me your god – Dazai’s enough."

Chuuya’s exasperated groan was met with Dazai’s delighted snicker. "You have no idea how badly I want you to die right now."

"Me too, honestly." Dazai paused before quickly adding: "As in, I want myself to die, not necessarily you. Though I also wouldn’t be opposed to that."

Chuuya only glared at him for a few seconds before he huffed, clearly still annoyed. "Well, go ahead and die quickly, then. Save me and others the trouble of having to breathe the same air as you."

"That’s harsh," Dazai said, completely unfaced. He was used to people telling him to commit suicide or to die. It wasn’t really all that shocking for him anymore. With something akin to fondness and nostalgia, he still remembered the first time someone told him to just die – it was a nice sunny day and he was roughly eight years old. Ah, a great day.

Anyway.

Chuuya just shook his head at Dazai’s response and he realized the not-quite-a-stranger seemed to be done with their conversation, at least mentally. He wasn’t having any of that, though, and so he grabbed a few more bags of the treats he was supposed to buy.

"You done? Let’s go to the checkout, then."

Chuuya made a noise – Dazai couldn’t decipher the emotion he was trying to express. Offense? Exasperation? Vexation? "Are you insane? Why would we–? Urghs, stop pestering me already!"

Dazai just shrugged. "Well, if we’re both done and heading the same direction, it would be a little weird to part ways now, right? Anyway, about your duct tape again… what kind of stupid project are you working on right now? Fixing the kitchen sink?"

For a moment, he was truly worried Chuuya was about to hit him. He didn’t, though. Instead, he took a deep breath. And another one. Dazai was about to make a comment – happy to continue to pester the other one – when Chuuya interrupted him right away.

"I don’t know why you care," he almost growled in annoyance and Dazai didn’t hold back a little smirk at that, "or if you’re only asking me to further annoy me…" Then, he took a deep breath. "But I’m working on an art project, and I need my favorite brush for that. I doubt you’d understand." He shook his head before he began walking towards the checkout – Dazai followed suit, keeping up with the shorter one easily. "You must think rather lowly of me," he singsang. Chuuya didn’t comment on it, which was enough confirmation for the brunet. He pretended not to be slightly offended by that. "Well, you could try to explain it - your project, not your weird obsession with your paintbrush - to me." Chuuya huffed. "Why would I waste my time, breath, and energy on explaining something to you that doesn’t even interest you?" Dazai tilted his head slightly, turning to look at him. "Well, when we met for the first time, you wouldn’t stop telling me things about dogs that I couldn’t have cared less about." The gaze Chuuya sent his way almost made him shiver. He glared at him like he just told him he poisoned puppies in his free time for fun or something. "That was a different situation. Besides, if you’re taking care of such an amazing dog as Kotaro, you’ll need all the help you can get. –Don’t interrupt me!" Dazai closed his mouth again, deciding to not aggravate the other more than necessary. "As I was saying– it’s not like I care about you or anything, just… the thought of that poor dog getting mistreated while your friend’s away…" He slowed down in his walk before shaking his head softly. They’ve almost reached the checkout by now. "If I can prevent this, then I’d at least like to try. It’s obvious his owner cares a lot about him. It’s unfortunate you’re the one he’s forced to be with right now."

They stopped at the checkout, Dazai stood in front of Chuuya. He deliberately chose to stand in front of him – he wanted to be able to turn around and face him, after all, and he somehow doubted Chuuya would’ve done so if their positions were somehow reversed.
"That, I can agree with," Dazai chimed in, a puzzled expression on his face, "though I personally believe that I am the victim in this situation, not some random mutt."

"Kotaro’s not some random mutt," Chuuya immediately interrupted him rudely, "I mean, I can’t be one hundred percent sure but he does look like a purebred, judging from his characteristics."

Chuuya was quiet for a moment. Dazai studied his facial expressions as he put his groceries – the treats – down onto the treadmill of the checkout before he turned away for a second, only looking back at him when he started to speak once more.

"You know," Chuuya said while shifting his weight from one foot to the other, seemingly lost in his thoughts, "Kotaro is seriously a beautiful dog. The color of his fur, his gleaming, intelligent eyes, and his crescent tail… your friend’s truly a lucky guy."

"I guess," Dazai relented, not because he wanted the shorter one to win their little game – that he was very sure the other was aware of, especially judging by the little smirk that tugged at the corner of his mouth for a moment. "I mean, I wouldn’t go as far as to describe him as beautiful or anything … but ah well, I dislike most animals. Especially dogs, though."

It seemed like his attempt at appeasing the other one had worked. He had dropped his teasing tone and tried to trap Chuuya in a normal conversation.

Weird. Why did he want to continue to talk to him so badly? Was he that intrigued by that man? He had to admit that, again, the other was nice to look at and fun to bicker with. Still, it crossed him as slightly odd.
Could it be– did he actually want to befriend that dog-obsessed art student? There was no reason for him to feel this way. But now that he was thinking about it, mayhaps that had been the case all along. That would explain why he had considered the idea of their meetings being fate with such eagerness, considering the fact that normally, he didn’t believe in something as silly as destiny or fate.

"Dogs are wonderful creatures," Chuuya sighed as they moved with the rest of the queue. Now, Chuuya was able to put his stuff down as well. He started to look for his wallet, something that reminded Dazai to do the same. "And your friend’s dog is such an amazing example for that… if only I could draw him, he’d be the perfect muse, a truly magnificent subject."

Dazai grimaced slightly – of course, it was still an exaggeration. "Honestly, not sure if you sound like an artist or like a mad scientist right now…" To his surprise, Chuuya only snorted at that – an honest, amused snort. His own eyes widened slightly while the other’s were being squinted just the tiniest bit.

"A little bit of both, probably," he only said, tone teasing, and with a heavy sigh he proceeded to shake his head, the smirk slowly getting replaced by a deep frown once more. "What even are you doing in your free time, though? Do you have a job or something like that? I somehow can't imagine that… who would even hire someone like you?"

Feigning offense, Dazai grabbed his chest and took a step backwards. He ignored the fact that he almost crashed into some random old lady that was peacefully existing next to him.

"How rude! Breathing is a rather difficult task. I'd even count it as a job, really. I mean, have you ever tried to purposefully breathe? Isn't that exhausting? Besides, as an artist yourself, I believe you should be aware of the art of doing nothing… it takes a lot of energy and bravery to ardently do nothing day in, day out."

Chuuya remained silent; a thick, heavy silence that he could feel creeping over him, covering him whole, as if it were trying to suffocate him, bury him beneath it. It's not like it was entirely quiet – the world around them still moved on like it always did. The employee was still scanning the items of the people in front of them, somewhere in the store was a screaming and crying toddler, the gentle hushing of its mother almost too quiet to be heard. The paper bags were rustling like they always were, hell, Dazai could hear the shorter man in front of him breathe if he tried to concentrate on it. It wasn't silent.
And yet, it was enough for him to fold. Dazai disliked the silence. And thus, after a few more seconds of Chuuya simply staring at him, he sighed dramatically as he took another step back, following the movement of the queue.
If someone were to ask, he’d deny the shiver of delight that was rushing through his veins when he saw Chuuya take a step forward, towards him, despite the fact that he knew he was only following along because of the queue as well.

"Ah, fine, fine – don't you even want to take a guess? It's usually rather funny to watch people try and fail to guess my profession."

More staring.

"What, did I render you speechless with my impressive little monologue? How flattering!"

"The fuck? Of course not! I'm ignoring you so you’ll leave me the fuck alone!"

Chuuya flinched as if admitting that hurt him physically – or, just mayhaps, the confession itself wasn't the problem. The fact that he had to address Dazai to inform him about it, however, was. Dazai only grinned.

"Ahhh, I see. Ah well, how unoriginal of you. Don't you think lots of people have tried exactly that before? And be honest, do you believe they were successful?" He could practically hear the other grit his teeth. "Not only stupid but derivative as well? Truly disappointing, Chuuya. I expected more of you."

With an exasperated groan, Chuuya balled his fists, most likely to restrain or ground himself. Dazai wasn't sure if he wanted to know.
Ah, who was he kidding? Of course he wanted to know.

"Fine. Fucking fine, okay." Chuuya's gaze wandered over his frame and he couldn't help but to feel slightly insecure. He managed to suppress his squirming, though. Well, not like that was all that difficult. "I doubt you’re working already, you seem to be about my age. Considering the fact that you apparently love to hear yourself talk as well as to use unnecessary synonyms in order to form an accumulation… you also don’t seem like someone who has a lot of money… Are you a literature student?"

Dazai blinked. He blinked again. Despite the fact that it only took him a few seconds – if at all – to recover from this surprise, the other seemed to take notice of it. He smirked, obviously proud of himself.

He was spot-on, though. Dazai was indeed a literature student.

"Well, well, well! How impressive! You’re quite observant, aren’t you? Didn’t expect that from the way you carry yourself."

Once again, the shorter student made a funny face that caused Dazai to chuckle lightly. It was not quite a scowl; it was something between annoyance, a slightly pained expression, mayhaps. Dazai couldn’t quite tell – thankfully, the other couldn’t read his mind or else he would’ve been rather embarrassed.

"Well," Chuuya managed to spit out between gritted teeth, "maybe you’re just stupid enough to make assumptions about everyone you meet and then fail to admit to yourself – or anyone, really – that your stereotypical guesstimates don’t always resemble reality."

Oh, wow. He made a whistling noise, an expression of toned down awe, couldn’t help but to express how impressed he was.

"Nice retort, I’ll admit that," he noticed that the queue had moved quite a bit by now – it was almost Dazai’s turn, and therefore he started to look for his wallet. "You’re very funny, Chuuya."

He turned towards the cashier, though he did catch a glimpse of Chuuya’s face. His eyes widened in response to his compliment.

"The fuck? I mean, I guess I am?"

"He guesses," Dazai cooed, greeting the cashier with a smile that was supposed to be charming. Judging by the cashier’s reaction, however, it seemed to be less charming and more mischievous. There’s a fine line between charm and mischief, Dazai’s learned over the past ten years or so. While he was definitely used to tiptoeing that line, even he sometimes made some tiny mistakes in his calculations, causing him to misstep, overstep the line, and then fall into one of the two categories.
Most of the time, people didn’t comment on it. He wasn’t even sure if they noticed the differences consciously at all. Of course, it was quite obvious that they did take note of it, even if only unwittingly. Every single time something like that happened, Dazai felt like he clicked the wrong option in a choice-based video game, and he was just waiting for a little note to pop up in the upper right corner of his vision stating "XY will remember that" or "This action will have consequences" or something like "This will affect your story." Sometimes, when he was feeling a little extra spicy, he imagined it to say something like "The path you choose will have consequences." And when he was too exhausted to be creative, he just imagined those little Sims symbols that showed the in- or decrease of relationship points popping up. Even if he couldn’t see them, he was certain he could almost feel them.
Interacting with people was exhausting.

"Urghs, whenever you’re acting slightly bearable for a second, you just HAVE to outdo yourself by being the most annoying person ever," Chuuya grumbled behind him. He snickered as he waited for the cashier to scan all of the treats. "Aww, you think I’m bearable? –Cash, please."

The cashier told him his total and he nodded as he handed over Kunikida’s money.

"No, I think you’re the most annoying waste of air and space," Chuuya sighed in annoyance as the cashier scanned his duct tape. He only nodded in acknowledgement when the cashier greeted him.

"But you also think I’m bearable. –Oh, I forgot to get a bag. Would you be so kind?"

"I barely know you and no."

"That can be changed and come ooooon, Chuuya, don’t be like this."

"Urghs," but the cashier was kind enough to wordlessly hand Chuuya a bag for Dazai. Then, he paused before looking at him, puzzled.

"Wait, what?"

"Thanksss," he grabbed the bag straight out of the other man’s hands as he dropped the treats right into it.

The other stared at him for a few seconds before the cashier cleared her throat. "Oh, right, sorry," Chuuya seemed a little distracted as he paid for his duct tape. Did Dazai say something that was weird, something that caused the other to stare at him like that?

He waited for Chuuya to put away his wallet and they left the store together. He was awfully quiet, and Dazai didn’t really know what to say either. How weird, he definitely had to say something.

"You think it’s gonna snow soon?" He cringed a little. That was the most basic ass question he could have asked, and it was very out of nowhere. He almost expected the other to ask something along the lines of, ‘what’s with the smalltalk?’ but he didn’t. Instead, he raised his head.

Dazai could see the small clouds of breath that Chuuya was exhaling. It was already very cold and the ground still seemed as slippery as it did when he saw it before entering the store. Chuuya had a nice side profile, Dazai noted. The way he tilted his head back brought his defined jaw line into focus. Despite the … unique haircut, Dazai had to admit that he seemed to have nice hair. It seemed to be healthy – too healthy for it to be dyed, though Dazai wasn’t an expert, he wouldn’t know. He was wearing his leather jacket again – still not appropriate regarding the weather in his humble opinion – though it was open this time. A white shirt with a big logo on it, maybe a band? He made a mental note to look it up later. Or, well, he could also just… ask the shorter man. Eh.
Talking about short, for someone his size, he seemed to have rather long legs. His pants fitted him nicely, too.

"Yeah, seems likely," Chuuya said, turning his head towards Dazai. The latter smiled as he noticed Chuuya still had to tilt his head to properly look at him. "Does Kotaro like snow?"

Ah. Obviously, the other wanted to talk about the stupid dog again.

"I dunno," he turned away, shrugging nonchalantly. "I bet he does," Chuuya said. "I’m sure he’d look beautiful in a snowy landscape. Ah, I wish I could paint him."

Dazai paused before glancing at him out of the corner of his eye.

"Why can’t you?"

"Huh?" And Dazai started walking. This time, it was Chuuya who followed him. A small victory in his eyes. "I mean- I’d need a picture of him, or even better, I’d have to use him as a live model to paint him as accurately as possible, and I don’t think– would you let me? Would his owner be okay with it?"

"I don’t see why he wouldn’t be," Dazai rolled his shoulders, "so sure, why not?"

"Really?" Again, Chuuya was obviously trying to hide his excitement, unsuccessfully. He was practically beaming at him. It was almost cute. But only almost.
Wait. Cute? Cute? It was one thing to admit that the almost-stranger was attractive. It was a whole different thing to call him cute, even if only inside his own head.

"Again, I don’t see why not. As long as I’m getting something out of it."

Some of the other’s excitement faded away. He narrowed his eyes, clearly suspicious. What a common reaction to this reasonable demand of his.

"What do you want?"

Ah, what a difficult question. He disliked it immensely, actually. How was he supposed to know what he wanted? And why did everyone keep asking him this?
That’s why he usually asked for favors, or for random things he didn’t actually care about. Sometimes, others made suggestions – unwillingly – that he’d just go along with. It’s what was expected of him anyway, wasn’t it? So why should he have to bother coming up with his own ideas? No, that wasn’t it, and he knew it. But taking his time to actually think about it right now wasn’t something he was willing to do right now, thank you very much.

"My, Chuuya, why do you ask me like you believe I want anything scandalous or illegal? Mayhaps I just want to spend time with my new favorite ginger."

Said ginger scowled a little, or, well, mayhaps even a lot. Who cared about the details? He most certainly didn’t, at least not right now. That’s why he also didn’t care about the way the stranger tilted his head slightly, causing his luscious hair to fall over his shoulder in a nearly majestic way, or how the way he slightly furrowed his eyebrows caused his forehead to wrinkle slightly while simultaneously framing his eyes more than his long, thick eyelashes already did. He also didn’t care about how the little puffs of air that were visibly leaving the other’s mouth seemed oddly sensual to him for no particular reason other than the fact that he was currently fixating on them. And because he didn’t care about details, he also didn’t care about how he pulled one corner of the mouth downwards while it was still slightly agape, or how he–

"Because I really don’t know you, and you don’t know me. You’re being insanely weird."

Feigning exasperation and hurt, he clenched his chest. "You wound me!" Unimpressed, Chuuya just stared at him. Dazai huffed.

"You’re no fun," he complained quietly, crossing his arms in front of his chest. "What do I want, hm?" Thoughtfully, he tapped his finger against his chin. The other scowled, something he ignored blissfully. "Well, maybe I want to get to know you. I’m bored, you know? My best friend’s gone and there’s no one to annoy, cut me some slack!"

"You only have that one friend? That’s just sad," Chuuya deadpanned. Yet again, Dazai huffed. "I never said that. But, perhaps, even if that were the case," which it wasn’t, "I’d still have high enough standards not to befriend someone like you."

The other glared at him. "And what’s that supposed to mean?" Chuuya growled. Huh, did he go too far? Maybe it was time to backtrack a little. "Oh, just, you know," and if Dazai was being honest, he himself didn’t even know what he was trying to say.

Chuuya scowled at him once more, and then he sighed. It made him sound like an old man, Dazai thought to himself with a little chuckle.

"Well, spit it out already. I don’t have all day, you know?"

He raised his hands in feigned caution. "Geeze, calm down, calm down. I was just saying, you’re, like… I dunno. The band logo on your shirt."

At that, Chuuya seemed confused, and he scowled as he looked at his shirt. "What? What’s your problem with Granrodeo?"

He didn’t feel any negativity towards Granrodeo. He had no idea who that was. But he couldn’t just go ahead and admit that, now.

"Oh, I dunno, their songs just sound kinda…"

The other narrowed his eyes, taking a step towards him. "Kinda what?" Oh boy, he had no idea. "…lame." Chuuya stared at him for a moment and Dazai could almost feel himself start to sweat nervously, but then, Chuuya rolled his eyes. "You clearly haven’t heard many songs, then. You prolly only heard them while watching some anime or something."

He blinked. Ah, Granrodeo released songs that were at least somewhat frequently used for anime soundtracks. That was something he could work with.

"Yeah, I guess that’s true. Most of the time, the anime are just kinda…" He trailed off, hoping Chuuya would interrupt and finish the sentence for him. Thankfully, he did.

"Yeah, okay, I know that some of the anime that use their songs aren’t that good, but you can’t just write off the whole band because the anime suck." Dazai hummed, pretending to consider his words. "I guess that’s true. Well, do you have an example for a good song?"
Internally, he was grinning widely. He was getting somewhere with this. What a relief, because for some odd reason, he sort of wanted to continue talking to the shorter man.

"That even a question? ‘Course I can recommend you good songs, gimme a second…" He started to look for his phone and eventually found it in one of the pockets of his jacket. Dazai was starting to get a little cold, but he wasn’t about to complain just yet. He was the one who asked a question, after all.
Chuuya crossed the distance between them as he typed something on his phone, and then he stood next to him. He had opened Spotify, and now he was scrolling through his playlists. For a moment, Dazai considered not staring at his screen like some deranged weirdo, but then he realized it was too late for that kind of restraint. Thus, he shamelessly stared at the other’s screen, reading all the different names he had for playlists and trying to figure out what sort of music was in there. Most of the playlists were pre-created playlists by Spotify or a "blend mix" with some other Spotify users. He raised an eyebrow.

"You listen to a lot of rock and metal, huh?" Chuuya made some weird noise that Dazai didn’t even want to try to decipher, but he didn’t stop the brunet from staring at his phone. He also didn’t comment on it, thus, Dazai decided it must have been alright with him.
He continued to watch him scroll, and then he raised both eyebrows.
"You also listen to classical music?" Chuuya rolled his eyes and stopped his frantic scrolling for a moment. "Yes, I also listen to classical music." Dazai snickered and Chuuya glared at him out of the corner of his eye. "The Duality of Man, huh?" Chuuya rolled his eyes once more, and Dazai wondered if he was rolling his eyes hard enough to see his brain soon if he kept that up.

"Well, what do you listen to?" Chuuya asked absent-mindedly, apparently trying to choose a song to show do Dazai, as he shifted a little, eyebrows furrowed. He seemed way too concentrated on something as silly as that, but Dazai, once again, didn’t comment on it.

Instead, he tried to come up with a good answer to that. The truth was, Dazai listened to everything and nothing. He didn’t really care much about music, he listened to whatever was currently playing at the location he was at. Of course, he quickly realized that not many people did that and that most people bonded over having a similar taste in music, and thus, whenever he was asked, he’d say he listened to "a little bit of everything." But for some reason, he was starting to suspect Chuuya wouldn’t really accept that as an answer.

He decided to try it anyway. "Well, I listen to a little bit of everything." Chuuya, as expected, raised an eyebrow and looked up from his phone. "What, don’t you have anything specific you prefer?" Dazai shook his head as he shrugged, a nonchalant smile on his lips. "Nah, I’m no man of culture, I don’t discriminate. If the song’s good, I don’t care about the genre." Chuuya’s eyebrow seemed to be close to flying away. "Okay, but what makes a song ‘good’ in your books?"

Dazai shrugged. "Dunno. Vibes?"

Chuuya’s flying eyebrow was joined by the other, but then they landed again. Instead, he scoffed. "Guess you listen to a lot of instrumental music, then? You kinda seem like a jazz person."

Did he? And why did he say that with a scowl? –Dazai was starting to suspect Chuuya didn’t like jazz.

He shrugged again. "Yeah, jazz is fine, too."

All Chuuya could do was shake his head. Dazai laughed at that. "Come on, jazz isn’t that bad."

"It’s not, but you seem like the annoying type of jazz enjoyer."

"What does that even mean?"

"You don’t need to know."

"Awww, come on, Chuuya! Don’t be like that."

"Shut up."

Dazai laughed quietly, and Chuuya scoffed. After a moment, Chuuya seemed to have found a song, and thus, he handed one of his earphones over to Dazai. He himself took the other one, and then he pressed play.

Dazai didn’t really care about the song. It wasn’t all that good, it wasn’t too bad. In his books, it was average. But Chuuya seemed to really enjoy it, and thus, he just smiled and nodded along. Not like he needed to agree with Chuuya or something, but for some reason, he felt inclined to. After the song was over, Chuuya looked at him expectantly as he took back his earphone. "It’s fine," Dazai said with a shrug. Chuuya scoffed once more. "It’s good," he corrected him, and now it was Dazai’s turn to roll his eyes. "If you say so."

"You’re unbearable."

"And yet, you’re standing here, talking to me. What does that say about you?"

Chuuya remained quiet for a moment. Then, he asked, "Well, about the dog. What do you want in return for allowing me to paint him?"

Ah, damn it. Dazai had hoped Chuuya’d forget about that. But it was fine, he could think of something.

"I want to see your art. And if it’s any good, I want you to, like, design something for me."

The other raised an eyebrow. "That’s it?" He was obviously suspicious. Dazai shrugged, and then he grinned. "Well, if you’re any good, it would be quite cool to have a painting or something from you before you get famous, right? Maybe I could sell it for an absurdly high price later."

Chuuya laughed, and Dazai smirked a little. "Okay, fine, that’s doable. Well, then. How about we stay in touch so that we can agree on a time and date?

At that, Dazai fought back a triumphant smirk – and also a teasing remark about how Chuuya sounded like he was a little too keen on spending time with Dazai, or, to be honest, the dog. No need to tease the other any more than necessary, especially if he just managed to get him to do what Dazai wanted.
“I’ll give you my number,” Dazai said instead with a nod. After Chuuya had saved him as a contact, he sent him a quick message, introducing himself. Dazai hummed. “Ah, so that’s how you write your name. Interesting. With the characters for ‘inside’ and ‘to be,’ huh?”

Chuuya rolled his eyes. “Yes, it’s Nakahara – with the characters for ‘inside’ and ‘plains’ – Chuuya – ‘inside’ and ‘to be.’ And your name?”

Dazai continued to hum for a moment. “It’s Dazai Osamu. Osamu is written with the character for ‘reign,’ and for Dazai, it’s ‘big’ or ‘great’ and ‘govern’ or ‘rule.’”

Chuuya had the audacity to snort at that. “Such a big, powerful name for a beanpole such as yourself.” Dazai fought back the little frown as he said, “my name’s perfectly fine!” He’d picked it himself long ago, after all. He knew it was a good name – he’d wanted it to sound somewhat strong and mayhaps even slightly intimidating, despite the fact that he knew it wasn’t what people would assume about or think of him at first glance.

Chuuya, however, merely snickered at his poorly disguised distress.

“Sure, sure. Just doesn’t really fit you, is all I’m sayin’, at least not as far as I can tell.”

“Guess you’ll find out about that soon enough, won’t you?”

Dazai nearly beamed, but he somehow managed to keep his cool.

After that, everything happened rather quickly – they exchanged phone numbers, and almost immediately, Dazai received a message with a link to a playlist the other had apparently made. It was filled with songs similar to the ones they had listened to earlier, Dazai recognised after clicking on the link and checking it out briefly.
Soon after exchanging their numbers, they said goodbye to each other. Although it was obvious that Chuuya was happy to finally get home – away from him – and Dazai knew he had to go for another walk, Dazai couldn't stop himself from feeling a certain euphoria on the way to Kunikida's apartment, which he couldn't quite put his finger on.

Was it because he had found someone to terrorize in Kunikida's absence? Was he happy because he found someone who could help him with the stupid mutt? – No, neither would justify the way his body was thrumming with tension, as if every nerve had been pulled taut, vibrating on the edge of something volatile. His hands, usually so precise, so controlled, twitched at his sides like they couldn’t decide whether to obey him. His smile was oddly unrestrained, and there was a tremble beneath his skin that betrayed a restlessness he couldn't name.

This wasn’t satisfaction. It wasn’t triumph. It was something messier, deeper – a rush that swirled in his chest and tugged at the corners of his mind. It was excitement, not just from the playful banter they’d shared, but from the undeniable spark that lingered in the air between them.

He couldn’t shake the feeling that this wasn’t just a casual encounter. It was the beginning of something he couldn’t quite put into words, but already felt in his bones.