Chapter Text
The day came, and Dazai was on his way to Nevermore. Sadly, Odasaku couldn’t accompany him; he was caught up organizing an adoption for one of the children at the orphanage. However, that didn’t stop Dazai from FaceTiming the man until the exact moment he had to board the plane.
The overall journey was like 18 hours. What a fucking drag. He couldn’t wait for Odasaku to have to take that same agonizing journey just to see little ol’ him. Ha, payback.
He got off the plane in Burlington. Odasaku had said someone would pick him up, so he waited outside the airport with his luggage. This was taking the piss.
He had been irritated ever since he boarded that plane. He didn’t even want to be here.
A small red car pulled up in front of him, and a lanky man in a brown suit stepped out. He looked around before spotting the odd boy sitting on his suitcase.
He leisurely strolled up to the lad.
“Osamu Dazai?”
Dazai perked up at the stranger. “Are you Odasaku’s Ango?”
The man flushed slightly. “I’m not ‘Odasaku’s Ango’!” he spat. “I’m Ango Sakaguchi. It’s nice to meet the kid Oda boasts about.”
Dazai smirked. “So you’re close enough to Oda for him to boast about me…”
Ango smiled warmly. “You kids like to gossip, right? I’ll tell you all about him on the way to Nevermore. We have half an hour to kill.”
“Ughhh, half an hour?” Dazai groaned, dragging himself to the car and sliding into the passenger seat. Ango chuckled—until he noticed the brat had left him to load up the luggage alone.
They soon set off, and Dazai didn’t wait to ask questions.
“So, were you two friends? Enemies? Lovers~?”
Ango blushed slightly again at the invasive remark. “We were friends and dorm mates.”
“Oh, I bet you were just friends~,” Dazai teased.
Ango was funny. He liked him. Dazai found he often got along with adults more easily than people his own age. Maybe it was because he learned to act like an adult at such a young age.
“So how has Oda been?” Ango asked, his cheeks still tinted pink.
“He’s good. He’s been working at an orphanage for a while. It’s how he found me.”
Ango smiled fondly. “I’ll assume he hasn’t changed a bit, then. He’s always been so kind.”
Dazai’s gaze shifted from the blurred trees outside the window to Ango’s nostalgic expression. His cheeks were dusted light pink, and his gentle smile showed he recalled nothing but fond memories.
“How long has it been since you last saw him?” the bandaged boy wondered.
Ango was silent for a second. “Well, we stayed in touch a little after Nevermore. I became a teacher, and he went back to his hometown. So it’s been about… 25 years.”
“Do you still love him~?” Dazai teased, smirking as Ango scoffed.
“Oda was right. You can be annoying. Anyway, on a serious note—”
“You didn’t deny it~,” Dazai interrupted.
“On a serious note.” Ango’s tone turned more commanding; he clearly wanted to avoid the subject. “If Oda didn’t tell you, I’m one of the staff members at Nevermore—and your dorm ‘dad.’”
Dazai perked up. “Dorm dad?”
“Sort of like a homeroom teacher.”
Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Maybe Ango could be his new friend. Sure, he’d look like a loser only having a teacher as a friend, but he liked Ango’s company so far.
“Shall I call you dad, then?”
“Don’t even dare.”
---
They soon arrived at Nevermore. Dazai stood before the building. It was somewhat eerie against the sunset, its towering spires piercing the clouds. The dark walls seemed to swallow the subtle gleam of the sun rather than reflect it.
He’d be lying if he said it didn’t look cool as fuck. It was like some type of evil Hogwarts.
It was around 7 p.m., so a lot of the students had returned to their rooms—a bit early for Dazai’s tastes, but oh well.
Ango guided him to his dorm. There were a fuck ton of stairs. Like, a ridiculous amount. Dazai was gasping by the time he reached the room, hauling himself against the wall as he panted after climbing four massive flights.
Ango snickered. “Someone needs more exercise.”
Dazai glared. “I’ve had a long flight.”
The older man opened the dorm room door. Sitting on one of the single beds—each pushed to opposite corners of the room—was who Dazai could only assume was his roommate.
The boy turned to face the intruders. He had auburn hair, slightly damp—he had probably just showered. From what Dazai could see, he had brown eyes. Pretty ones.
What the hell was he thinking? This boy was ugly and wet like a dog. A wet dog.
The ginger approached with a welcoming smile.
“I’m Chuuya Nakahara. You can call me Chuuya.” He held out his hand.
“Dazai Osamu…” Now that Dazai was closer, he could see the boy’s eyes weren’t just brown—they were littered with specks of blue. He had a piercing on his eyebrow and two small spike piercings on either side of his bottom lip. How dangerous.
He was so lost in Chuuya’s eyes that he didn’t notice the gaze turning sour. Dazai looked down to see the extended hand now crossed over Chuuya’s chest.
Chuuya shot Ango a judgmental glare. “Jeez, where’d you find this one?”
Dazai decided he liked that expression. He’d never seen someone so expressive. He grinned widely.
“My apologies, Chuuya. I’m just not fond of dogs, you see. Especially…” he gestured to Chuuya’s damp hair, “wet dogs.”
Ango groaned and facepalmed.
“Dazai, don’t be—”
“You take that back, idiot!” Chuuya interrupted.
“Why should I?”
“I knew you’d be annoying. I was trying to be nice, you ass!”
Ango sighed loudly. “Enough! Stop arguing. You’re roommates whether you like it or not. Deal with it. I’m leaving.”
Dazai watched as Ango left—probably before the bandaged boy said something else annoying.
Chuuya sighed before attempting conversation. “So what are you?”
“Huh?” Dazai blinked.
“What. Are. You.”
“If I look confused the first time, there’s no point asking me the same question again.”
Chuuya groaned. “You know—are you a vampire? Werewolf? Gorgon? Something like that?”
“Ohh~ that’s what you meant. In that case, it’s none of your business.”
“YOU ARE SUCH AN ASS!”
“Jeez, are you always so hot-headed?”
“No! You’re just annoying! Really fucking annoying!”
“Tsk tsk~ watch your language.”
“I’m gonna kill you.”
“Chuuya, that’s so kind of you.”
“WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!”
Chuuya took a deep breath, calming himself. “Let’s start over. I’m Chuuya, and I’m a werewolf.”
Dazai practically beamed. “I knew you were a dog!”
Chuuya couldn’t take it anymore. “YOU’RE SUCH AN ASS!” He raised his leg to kick him—but to his surprise, Dazai caught it, his hand hooking under Chuuya’s knee.
Chuuya froze—not only because Dazai had stopped his kick, but because Dazai looked ecstatic.
“Let go, idiot,” Chuuya barked, cheeks slightly pink.
“Chuuya’s so flexible.” Dazai released his leg, wiping his hand on his shirt as though the ginger had a disease. “Like a ballerina~”
“Shut up, freak.” Chuuya walked back to his side of the room. “This is my side. That’s yours. So stay away from me.” He crossed his arms, trying to look intimidating.
Dazai’s eyes wandered over Chuuya’s decor.
It was littered with band posters—some Dazai liked himself. Would he tell Chuuya that? No. He didn’t want anything in common with that slug.
His bed was a mess of pillows and tacky patterned blankets. LED lights were strung across the ceiling above his bed, glowing red.
How tacky.
This tiny slug was the human definition of tacky.
Dazai decided to be annoying. He walked over to Chuuya’s side and opened his closet.
Chuuya turned red. He had underwear in there. This bastard had no boundaries.
“W-what are you doing? Get out—”
Dazai turned with a sly smile. “So, are you an emo?”
“Shut up. I don’t have to explain anything to you.”
“Bet you are.”
“I’m alternative.”
“So, an emo.”
“No.”
“Yeah.”
“I dabble in a few music genres, and I don’t dress emo!”
“Your wardrobe says otherwise.”
“Die.”
“Gladly.”
Chuuya groaned. He already utterly despised this idiot. How could one person be so annoying?
“Fine. What’s with the bandages?”
“What’s with the piercings?”
“cause they’re sick as fuck.”
"There tacky"
“How are they tacky?”
Dazai shrugged.
Chuuya narrowed his eyes. This bastard was avoiding the topic, how sly. He's slipery... like a fish.
“Listen here, you fishy bastard. Stop deflecting.”
“How am I a fish?”
“Because you’re slimy. Now what’s with the bandages? Are they part of your weird ability or something?”
Dazai groaned. He hated when people asked.
“Sure,” he answered plainly.
Chuuya looked curious. “Are you a stoner—but only in one eye?”
Dazai blinked. “Are you asking if I smoke pot?”
“No, like a gorgon. Jeez, don’t you know slang?”
“No. I live happily under a rock, away from smelly were-dogs.”
“I’ll kill you.”
“Don’t threaten me with a good time, Chu Chu~”
Chuuya flushed at the embarrassing nickname. “Don’t call me that. Are you a vampire?”
“No.”
“Really? You look pale enough.”
“Rude.”
“Siren?”
“Will you stop asking?”
“No. I’m annoying you like you annoy me.”
“How childish.”
“I know. I’m iconic.”
That made Dazai laugh—and it startled Chuuya a bit. Dazai hadn’t really laughed in a while, especially with someone his age. Chuuya was so expressive. So real.
Dazai liked that.
He smiled.
“I’m a visionary, I guess.”
Chuuya blinked. “…What the hell does that even mean?”
“It means…” Dazai said softly, taking a deliberate step forward.
Chuuya frowned but didn’t move — until Dazai took another step.
And another.
The back of Chuuya’s shoulders hit the wall with a quiet thud.
Dazai leaned in just enough to invade his space, smirking.
“…none of your business.”
Chuuya’s face burned red.
“fuck you!.. idiot"