Chapter Text
Chuuya stepped through the doors of the large, dimly lit theater, immediately feeling the atmosphere shift around him.
The building was far more crowded than he’d expected.
Families and friends filled the rows of seats in front of the stage, quietly talking amongst themselves as they waited for the performance to begin. Children whispered excitedly to their parents, while others sat patiently with programs folded in their laps.
Chuuya tightened his grip on the strap of his bag.
He wasn’t used to being around this many people.
Still, he’d come this far.
He scanned the rows until he found the seat listed on his ticket. He slipped into it quickly, setting his bag beneath the chair before settling back.
He looked toward the stage.
The curtains were still closed.
A strange nervousness fluttered in his stomach.
He wasn’t nervous for himself.
He wasn’t the one performing.
But for some reason, he felt almost as though he was.
Chuuya glanced around the theater, wondering how many people here actually knew the dancers personally.
Then the lights began to dim.
The conversations around him gradually faded.
Within seconds, the theater had fallen almost completely silent.
Chuuya leaned forward slightly.
The curtains slowly began to open.
The first thing he noticed was the lighting.
Then the music.
And then—
Dazai.
Chuuya’s breath caught.
He was standing near the center of the group, immediately recognizable despite the number of dancers surrounding him.
His long, slender frame was held perfectly upright, his feet balanced effortlessly on pointe.
Chuuya stared.
Dazai looked…
Beautiful.
The stage lights reflected against his skin, making him seem almost unreal. For a moment, with the way the light surrounded him, Chuuya thought he looked like an angel.
A very annoying angel.
Dazai wore an elegant white leotard that fit perfectly against his body, emphasizing the long lines of his limbs. His hair had been styled neatly for the performance, and every detail of his appearance seemed deliberate.
Chuuya’s cheeks immediately began to burn.
He quickly looked down.
Why was he blushing?
He forced himself to look back at the stage.
Dazai hadn’t even started dancing yet.
And somehow, Chuuya was already having trouble looking away.
Then the music began.
Dazai moved.
Everything else seemed to disappear.
Chuuya became completely absorbed in the performance.
Dazai’s body moved with the music as though the two were connected. He bent, turned, and leapt with a precision that left Chuuya almost speechless.
Every movement flowed naturally into the next.
There was no hesitation.
No awkwardness.
Just complete control.
Chuuya found himself holding his breath whenever Dazai spun, watching as his body seemed to stretch effortlessly through every movement.
He had seen Dazai dance before.
He’d watched him during rehearsals.
But this was different.
Here, under the stage lights, with an entire audience watching him, Dazai seemed to become someone else entirely.
He wasn’t the obnoxious boy who constantly poked Chuuya’s cheeks.
He wasn’t the idiot who called him Slug.
He wasn’t the irritating classmate who somehow managed to get on his nerves within seconds.
He was simply Dazai.
A dancer.
And a damn good one.
Chuuya’s chest felt strangely tight.
He couldn’t explain why.
Watching Dazai dance felt like witnessing something priceless, something that shouldn’t be possible to simply sit and watch for the price of a ticket.
He almost felt undeserving of it.
The music continued.
Dazai spun again.
Chuuya’s eyes followed him instinctively.
Time seemed to slow.
The few minutes the performance lasted felt like hours and seconds at the same time. Chuuya didn’t notice the audience around him. He barely noticed himself breathing.
All he could see was Dazai.
Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, the music stopped.
Dazai came to a final position.
The audience erupted into applause.
Chuuya blinked.
It was over.
He stared at the stage for another moment, almost expecting the music to start again.
Dazai stood beneath the lights, breathing heavily from the performance, his chest rising and falling as the applause continued.
Chuuya swallowed.
He stood.
He wasn’t sure why.
He simply knew he needed to leave.
Quickly.
He grabbed his bag from beneath his chair and hurried toward the exit before he could change his mind.
He didn’t look back.
Not once.
Outside, the cold night air hit Chuuya’s face.
He stopped just beyond the theater doors, breathing slowly.
His heart was still pounding.
He pressed a hand against his chest.
This wasn’t normal.
He knew that.
Chuuya wasn’t stupid.
He knew what it meant when someone could make his stomach twist simply by looking at them.
He knew what it meant when he couldn’t stop watching someone.
He knew what it meant when someone’s absence was noticeable.
And he absolutely refused to deal with it.
Dazai was annoying.
Dazai was arrogant.
Dazai was a snotty little shit who had somehow wormed his way into Chuuya’s thoughts far too easily.
That was all.
It had to be.
Whatever strange feelings Chuuya had developed weren’t something he wanted.
He had just moved here.
He was trying to start over.
He didn’t need some stupid crush complicating everything.
So there was only one solution.
He needed to cut Dazai off.
No more rehearsals together.
No more conversations.
No more letting Dazai poke his cheeks or steal his phone.
No more watching him dance.
Nothing.
Chuuya adjusted his bag over his shoulder and started walking.
He could do that.
He would do that.
Dazai Osamu wasn’t going to ruin things for him.
Not now.
Not ever.