Chapter Text
“CHUUYA!”
“I GOT IT!”
With a swift kick, Chuuya hurled the ball to the other side of the court, flying it over everyone’s heads in a flash. Chuuya then wiped the sweat from his forehead, proudly watching as the rest of the players gathered and tried to score a goal. The sun’s rays beat down on everyone outside, causing them to shield their eyes and wear less clothing. The jersey Chuuya was wearing started to stick to his back and chest - he had to peel it away from his skin every other minute so it didn’t fuse into his skin.
“Overkill,” a shoulder bumped into Chuuya’s side playfully, “you could have just passed it to Tachihara, he was open."
“What would be the fun in that, huh?” Chuuya shoved Akutagawa back, “keep your attention on the ball, loser.”
Akutagawa rolled his eyes, shifting back to the game in a ready position.
Mere moments later, eyes widening in fear, Akutagawa ducked down when the sight of a stray, flying ball obscured his vision, hurtling towards his face.
“SHIT- WATCH OUT!” Chuuya yelled, slamming it to the side with his leg.
Much to his dismay, the ball slung far away from the court, now headed for someone that was walking by themselves - their body concealed from all the black they covered themselves in. Chuuya stood and gawked as the ball was definitely heading towards the student.
“HEY-!” Chuuya hollered again, “LOOK OUT-”
But it was too late.
The ball viciously thwacked the kid to the ground, their head banging against the grass with a thud. Without hesitating, Chuuya ran over to them as fast as he could, leaving the game and his friends behind without a second thought.
“Oh my god,” Chuuya knelt down next to the body and lightly placed his hand on their back, “I’m so sorry- holyshit -are you okay?”
No response.
“ Fuuuuuck ,” Chuuya hissed through gritted teeth, “that hit you in the head, didn’t it?”
Silence.
“What’s wrong?” Akutagawa jogged over, “who are they?”
“I-I don’t know…”
Akutagawa kneeled beside Chuuya and took the hood off of the kid. Turning them over, the two instantly cringed.
Blood.
It was steadily dribbling out of his nose and mouth. Brushing his hair out of his face, Chuuya kept his head level with a steady grip, fear making his hands tremble.
“What do I do?”
“Get the nurse, obviously,” Akutagawa puffed, his face a bright red against his pale skin.
“You’re so insensitive,” Chuuya growled, his hands cradling the man’s cheeks, “help me hoist him up on my back.”
“What?”
“I’m not leaving him out here - its 90-something degrees and he’s wearing all black, plus I think he’s unconscious. I’m carrying him to her office.”
“I can’t believe you,” Akutagawa stood back up. Reluctantly, he helped lug the guy on Chuuya’s back. After a few tries, they finally made something work and Chuuya was able to stand up without toppling over.
“He’s slipping-” Chuuya wrapped his arms around his thighs and hopped to get him back into place, “I’m too sweaty for this.”
“You okay?” Tachihara joined them.
“Yeah, he’s pretty light, actually,” Chuuya took a few steps and righted himself again, “keep playing, I’ll be back whenever.”
As he walked, the guy’s hair tickled his cheek with every stride across the football field. It was a bit awkward opening the door by himself, but he managed to pull it off after a few colorful curses. He was making him sweat even more; black attracted to heat and fuck, Chuuya sweat more trying to get him inside than actually playing soccer. He could feel his jersey melting into his skin at this point and droplets of sweat trickled from his nose kept dripping down to his upper lip.
The man’s head lulled to the side when Chuuya pivoted his stance in the hallway - he also started to slip again. Furrowing his eyebrows, Chuuya’s fingers curled around him tighter and he walked faster, praying that he’d make it in time before he dropped him. A few stray students ogled at him as he passed them in a rush.
“Mrs. Yosano!” He called, barging into the room. In her office, there were already two kids inside. One was laying on a bed with a trashcan next to them and the other turned on the faucet, filling up a paper cup with two red pills on their other hand, jumping at the outburst.
“Yes, dear?” She stopped typing on her computer and swiveled in her seat, readjusting the reading glasses on her nose.
“I- he-,” Chuuya stammered, “I kicked him in the face with a soccer ball - really hard - he’s not talking and I don’t think he’s awake and he’s bleeding and-”
“Woah, woah, woah, calm down,” Yosano stood up, “lay him on the bed in the back room.”
Chuuya did so, his back and arms finally able to relieve themselves. Turning around, he saw that the guy’s hair was sticking to his face - the blood acting like hardened glue.
“Oh my god,” Chuuya put his hand over his forehead.
“He’ll be fine,” Yosano entered the room and closed the door behind her, “did he happen to fall on his face as well?”
“Y- I think so? I can’t remember but I heard when he hit the ground way across the court.”
Tugging on a pair of rubber gloves, she picked and prodded at his face, tearing his hair away from the dried blood. Moving skin around, she searched for any bruising or fractures.
It was then that she had opened his mouth.
Metal dotted along his teeth.
He had braces .
“Shit- shoot ,” Chuuya corrected himself, the hair on his arms rising when the nurse shot him a dirty look. His attention back on the guy, his breath hitched in his mouth when the nurse gasped - she wouldn’t stop looking around and moving his lips - it was as if she was scared to find something.
“I hit him. In the face. With a soccer ball. Really hard. And he has braces ,” Chuuya frantically whispered to himself, chewing on his fingernails.
“Get me the wet wipes from the counter.”
Whipping around, Chuuya desperately searched everywhere. Peering into cabinets and open spaces, he was finally able to find them; they were right in front of him the entire time.
“These?” He asked, blushing with embarrassment.
“Yes, thank you.”
She carefully dabbed at his face, ridding him of the blood. A few red wipes later, his face was finally cleaned off and she tossed them into the bin, along with her gloves that she ripped off when she was finished.
“He’ll be alright. When he wakes up he’ll be in a lot of pain, but he’s tough. I don’t remember him getting braces, so I have to go and write that down.”
Chuuya inwardly screamed, wishing that the braces weren’t new and she just forgot.
“Y-you know him?” He managed to spit out, fists clenched at his sides.
“His name is Dazai, he’s a quiet sweetheart. He has his moments when he’s loud but other than that, he’s a good kid,” Yosano grabbed the ends of Dazai’s bloody hoodie and pulled it over his head, “but, as for you, you should be getting back. Class starts up again soon.”
“I-I just can’t leave him,” Chuuya motioned with his hands, “I’m the reason he’s bleeding! I’m staying until he wakes up - I need to apologize.”
Yosano sighed, neatly folding the clothing and setting it on the edge of the bed, “I’ll write you a pass, but you do need to promise that you’ll leave once he’s okay.”
Chuuya nodded vigorously.
Yosano lightly lay Dazai down on the bed, pulling the end of his shirt down and left to write Chuuya his late pass. Exhaling slowly, Chuuya directed his attention to the poor boy. Most of the blood was gone now, but it didn’t make him feel any better about the situation.
When he was given his pass, he stuffed it into his shorts and rested his head on his hand, reveling in how bad he felt. Chuuya rubbed at his temples at the thought of Dazai possibly having new braces - the only thing that was swimming through his brain.
He fidgeted with his fingers for a few minutes, Dazai still not waking up nor moving at all from his spot. With every single second that passed, Chuuya’s guilt dug its grave deeper and deeper, his mouth creating more saliva than he could keep up with.
Wordlessly, he fished his phone from his back pocket and went to text Akutagawa to tell him that everything was fine - a lie, in Chuuya’s opinion.
After a few moments, Akutagawa didn’t reply. Chuuya figured they restarted the game.
Glancing back over, Dazai was still unconscious.
“Fuuck,” Chuuya stuffed his face into his bent knees, laying his head on them. He swallowed, staring at the clock’s hands that were slowly ticking, ticking, ticking.
Dazai had to be hot in all of those clothes. Chuuya was silently grateful that the nurse took the hoodie off, but he still wore a long-sleeved black shirt and black skinny jeans. If he examined closely, he could make out a thin layer of sweat that coated the boy’s face.
Who in their right mind would wear so much black on the hottest day of summer?
His phone was still in his hand, so he decided to turn it back on and find a simple game to play to pass the time. Crossy Road so happened to be closest to his thumb, so he tapped on it and waited for the game to load up.
Mindlessly pressing his finger on the screen, he avoided cars and jumped onto lily pads to collect coins. Occasionally, he switched over to the prize machine and collected new characters to play as. He huffed and clicked his tongue when he made a mistake and died or made an ugly face when he lost the game right before he got a new high score. Before he knew it, thirty minutes passed by and Dazai still hadn’t moved from his spot.
Though, that’s what he thought, anyway.
Out of the corner of his eye, he finally noticed someone looking at him - no, someone watching him.
Chuuya sharply inhaled, his phone almost dropping to the floor.
Dazai was watching him - for how long, he had no clue.
“I- you-” Chuuya tripped up over his words.
Dazai squinted.
“Are you okay?!” Chuuya finally let out, obviously scaring the poor boy. Flinching back at the outburst, Dazai made no attempt to say anything back.
“I- I hit you in the face with a soccer ball and you passed out bleeding and I feel so bad so I stayed here to apologize and-”
Chuuya then realized that Dazai wasn’t paying attention to anything he was saying.
How polite.
Furrowing his eyebrows, he noticed Dazai’s eyes were glued to his phone.
“What…? Are you wanting to play, or?”
Dazai held his hands out in a bowl-like way and slowly nodded as if nodding too fast would hurt his head.
Chuuya passed his phone to Dazai, lightly dropping it in his hands. Now, it was his turn to peer over his shoulder.
Dazai played the game with ease - his fingers moving in all the correct ways without breaking a sweat. His score was dangerously closing in on Chuuya’s within a few moments - he found himself scowling and leaning back when he beat it and was able to keep going.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, he got ran over by a truck.
His lips thinning into a straight line, he went to give Chuuya his phone back; Chuuya dismissed it with a wave of his hand.
“You can play again if you want. I’m going to go tell the nurse you’re awake.”
With that, Chuuya got up and took the hair tie that wadded up his jersey on his side out and opened the door. Dazai sunk into himself and kept the phone, but didn’t restart the game. He pressed the power button and placed it on the chair where Chuuya sat, surveying the room with his arms around his legs. His head shot to the door when Chuuya came back, the nurse trailing right behind him.
“Hello, Dazai,” she greeted, “it’s nice to see you awake again. Mind opening your mouth for me really quick?”
Dazai shook his head.
“Why not?”
Dazai shook his head again, hands fisting the sheets under him.
“Does it hurt?”
Dazai nodded.
“Would you like me to go get some of your medicine?”
Dazai nodded again, slower this time. Chuuya’s eyes drifted down to Dazai’s hands - they were slightly trembling. When Yosano left, Chuuya grabbed at his jersey, balling up the fabric.
“Look, I’m so fucking sorry, I-I can’t imagine how much pain you’re in right now and I’m just really sorry, I didn’t mean to and-”
Dazai raised a hand, wordlessly telling Chuuya to stop. The ginger shakily exhaled.
“Is there anything I can do, at least?”
Dazai’s head tilted downward and he shook it for the millionth time.
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Chuuya’s eyes locked with Dazai’s for a split second.
Dazai nodded.
“I really wish I didn’t have to go this quickly, but the bell rang about ten minutes ago. I have to get dressed and gather my things,” Chuuya retrieved his phone, “I’m so sorry, again. It was nice meeting you, Dazai.”
He left in a hurry. No matter how much he wanted to stay, he knew he couldn't.
When Chuuya closed the door, Dazai’s lips parted and blood seeped out of the cracks. Covering his mouth with his hand, the nurse came back with the medicine and a bag of ice.
“Can you tell me how much it hurts with your fingers? One being none and ten being ‘I feel like I’m going to die.’”
Dazai put up seven fingers.
“You kicked the shit out of that poor kid,” Akutagawa shook his head, readjusting the backpack on his shoulders.
“HE ALSO HAD BRACES!” Chuuya flung his hands into the air, “NEW ONES! NEW BRACES AND I HIT HIM IN THE FACE WITH THE FUCKING BALL!”
“You are so goddamn mean,” Akutagawa fed into Chuuya’s misfortune, “and he can’t even open his mouth anymore, such a shame thanks to you.”
“Shut uppp!” Chuuya wailed, dragging his hands over his face, “he also had to shake or nod his head to answer me! It’s literally all my fault!”
“Yup,” Akutagawa popped the p, “he’s going to have to get high on his medication to not feel the agonizing pain. Maybe go to the emergency room if it’s that bad.”
Chuuya’s hands tightened into fists around his backpack straps. He sewed his mouth shut, not dawdling on the topic any further. Guilt was churning around in his stomach, making it harder for him to walk home. Turning his head around, he watched as the school got smaller and smaller, disappearing in the distance - no doubt Dazai was still in the nurse's office getting treated for what he did to him.
It was all his fault - every bit of it.
If he had just let Akutagawa get hit in the face - he didn’t braces, so it wouldn’t have hurt that much.
If he had just kicked it the other way - or rather, used his own body to dodge it.
If he had just done anything else, he could have saved Dazai from the pain - from the blood.
But he didn’t.
Chuuya finally arrived at his house half an hour later. He was sweaty, disgusting, and upset.
“How was your day, sweetie?”
That question only fueled his distraughtness.
“ABSOLUTELY! HORRIBLE!” Chuuya flung his stuff on the living room floor, “I KICKED A POOR GUY IN THE FACE WITH A SOCCER BALL AND HE JUST GOT BRACES AND HE WAS BLEEDING AND-”
“Oh shit…” Kouyou gasped, “Is he alright?”
“I DON’T KNOW! He had to shake and nod his head to answer questions! He can’t talk, all thanks to me!”
“It wasn’t your fault, honey; things happen. At least you didn’t intentionally kick him in the face, right?”
“Of course not! Only Akutagawa does that!”
Kouyou rolled her eyes with a smile, “I’m sure he’ll be fine tomorrow. Have you apologized?”
“Like a million times, yes! I don’t feel like it’s enough, though. He’s probably in so much pain right now and I feel so bad!”
“Why not make him something and give it to him?”
“What?”
Kouyou got up from her spot on the couch and went into the kitchen, “you could bake him something, like sweets. People with braces can eat cookies, so why not make a few for him and give them to him in the morning?”
“You think he’d like that?” Chuuya's voice quieted down and followed his mom, standing on his toes to see over her shoulder.
“Of course," she opened a drawer and took out a half-sharpened pencil," also, while you’re at it, why don’t you get stuff for dinner as well?”
“Wha-”
Stuffing a piece of paper into his hands, she smiled and went back to the couch. Just as Chuuya thought, it was a grocery list.
She tricked him.
“I can just walk to Kroger down the street, right?” Chuuya asked, fishing for his wallet, giving into his mother’s scheme.
“Do whatever, just don’t take too long,” his mother called, flicking through the channels; which was completely useless in Chuuya's opinion - she was just going to put on a sappy Hallmark movie anyway.
Getting ready to go back outside, he went into his room to change into something more summer appropriate - a loose muscle shirt and shorts - and opened the door, immediately getting blasted with summer’s ferocious heat.
Walking now seemed like the stupidest idea.
Chuuya chanted the list in his mind to himself as he walked through the sliding doors of the grocery store. He had enough to buy everything on the list and more - maybe he could sneak in a snack or two without his mother finding out.
Strolling down the aisles, he picked up things he needed and mentally crossed out the items as he got them from their respective shelves. Whistling, he tapped his finger on one of the fridge’s handles, scanning the juices before opening it and grabbing whichever one he preferred. With almost everything in his hands, he went to the Asian aisle for the rice and stopped dead in his tracks.
Is that…?
No...It couldn’t possibly-
“D-Dazai?” Chuuya breathed, the jug of juice slipping from his hold. Dazai’s head whipped around, his hands carrying a box of cheap ramen.
“H-hey,” Chuuya greeted again, “what are you doing?”
Dazai stared.
“Oh, shit, right, you can’t talk,” Chuuya inwardly beat himself up and moved the juice to his hand, “you’re getting ramen?”
Dazai’s head dipped down and back up to Chuuya with a nod.
“Are you sure you want that? There’s a lot of stuff here, y’know.”
The corners of Dazai’s lips deepened.
“So, you don’t want that?”
Dazai’s grip on the box stiffened as he shook his head no.
“Then why do you have it?” Chuuya’s eyebrows creased.
He shrugged, not making eye contact with the ginger anymore - they were shifting everywhere but in his direction.
A lightbulb went off in Chuuya’s mind - he had an idea as to why.
“Here,” Chuuya set some of his things down on the floor and took out his wallet. Pulling out a twenty, he stretched his arm out and waved it in front of Dazai, “take it and get you something nice for dinner tonight, okay?”
Dazai’s mouth fell open for the first time as he frantically shook his head. Stepping back, his mouth closed and he bit his bottom lip, still denying the gesture.
“Trust me, I have enough. Please, just take it,” Chuuya pleaded, “think of it as a sorry for causing you so much pain.”
With a huff, Dazai put the box of ramen back where he found it and gently took the money from Chuuya’s hand - their fingers brushing against each other for a millisecond.
Gulping, Dazai’s lips curled into a soft smile.
It was the first time Chuuya had saw him smile - it made his heart thrum against his chest.
“Have a good night, Dazai,” Chuuya gathered his things again, “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”
Chuuya didn’t see it, but Dazai mouthed ‘thank you’ and recoiled. His hand flying up to cover his mouth, he shut his eyes with a whine of pain. Dazai' eyes stayed on Chuuya as he left, his orange hair the last thing he saw as Chuuya disappeared into the crowd of people.
The money crinkling in his hand, he brought it back up to his face, a thoughtful look etched onto his features.
As Kouyou and Chuuya were cooking, the TV served as background noise. When Chuuya peeked into the oven to check on the salmon, he remembered what had happened prior.
“I saw Dazai at the store,” Chuuya stated blandly, “he was getting ramen and I told him not to - I gave him money so he could get something nicer.”
“Who’s Dazai?”
“The guy I hit with the ball,” Chuuya turned the dial a bit hotter, “I guess he’s still hurting because he couldn’t speak.”
“Having braces is rough,” Kouyou stirred the rice, “I heard it can be a pain in the ass - especially if you knock them around.”
Chuuya dropped his head on the counter, his fingernail tracing the designs of the marble, “you think he’ll be okay soon, right?”
“Honey, I’m not sure,” Kouyou blew on the pot, “I’ve never had braces before.”
Chuuya banged his head on the countertop again, earning a slap of a wooden spoon from his mother.
“Hurting yourself isn’t going to speed up his process,” Kouyou chastised.
“I knowwww,” Chuuya drawled, rubbing where he was hit and propping his head up, “can I make him a smoothie, too?”
“Why?”
“I dunno,” Chuuya mumbled, “it’d help the pain and plus they taste good. Last time I checked the freezer we still had some frozen bags of fruit,"
“Can’t argue with that,” Kouyou smiled, “if you get up early we can do all that in the morning before school. Sound like a plan?”
“Sounds like a plan,” Chuuya grinned back. With a skip in his step, he resumed with cooking.
“Oh, Chuuya,” Kouyou asked, turning to her son, “do you know if he has any allergies or anything?”
Chuuya froze, the spatula stuck in the midst of macaroni.
“I- Uh-”
Kouyou raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, shit- uhm-” Chuuya turned the fire off, quickly wiping his hands on his apron, “let me go ask.”
“I thought he was a random person you hit. You have his contact?”
Chuuya fumbled with his phone, licking his lips as he clicked on him and Akutagawa's text conversation.
“I- Not really…? But I might know someone who does?” It was a weak sign of reassurance, but Chuuya started typing rapidly, firing letter after letter in caps lock.
“Well,” Kouyou clicked her tongue, taking the spatula to resume the cooking, “make sure you double-check so you won’t kill the poor boy again.”
“Oh my god, mom! Don't say that!”
“It’s true, though.”
“It was a fucking accident!”
“Chuuya, language.”
“Sorry!”
(Chuuya): DO YOU KNOW IF THAT DUDE I HIT IN THE FACE HAS ANY ALLERGIES TO FRUITS?????
(Akutagawa): No… why?
(Chuuya): RAAAAAAAA
(Akutagawa): ???
“He doesn’t know! What am I supposed to do now?!” Chuuya exasperated, clutching his phone tightly in one hand.
“Cross your fingers and hope he doesn’t die after what you feed him as an apology gift,” Kouyou chortles.
“I HOPE THE PASTA BURNS!” Chuuya whipped his head at his mother, pointing an accusing finger at her.
“I wouldn’t mind actually,” she sniffed delicately, “you’re eating it, too.”
Chuuya groaned, rubbing his face with a hand, “what happens if a teenager gets arrested for murder?”
“Juvenile detention center, probably, but it’s fine. I’ll probably disown you after you kill that boy, anyway. I have to keep my reputation as the best mom on the block, you know.”
Chuuya rolled his eyes, “you’re such a supportive mom, you know that?”
“I know, right?’ Kouyou hummed, tapping the spatula on the pan before placing it in the sink. “Hurry up and wash your hands, lad. Dinner’s ready, no thanks to you.”
“I wholeheartedly think that freaking out over trying not to kill someone is more important than cooking a simple dinner.”
“Oh? So I can eat the whole thing while you panic over what ingredients to put into your apology smoothie? Why, I’d be more than delighted.”
“MOM!”
Kouyou chuckled, dashing out the kitchen while Chuuya struggled to untie his apron and run after his not-so-supportive mother.
“Does anyone know who Dazai is?!” Chuuya squawked, catching the attention of everyone at the table and a few more fro m nearby tables. Chuuya was an idiot - the biggest idiot. How was he going to give Dazai a smoothie and cookies in the morning if he couldn’t find him in the first place?!
He never thought anything through - he made himself suffer constantly.
Everyone shook their heads in confusion, much to his luck. Nobody seemed to know who he was - but then again, Dazai did seem like the antisocial type, so not a lot of people would know him that well.
“U-uh…” A boy raised his hand hesitantly, “I do..”
“You do?!” Chuuya’s eyes widened, “the guy with brown hair, brown skin, brown eyes, and braces? You know him?”
The kid swallowed, “y-yeah, I do..”
“Where is he usually in the mornings?”
“Well, first off, he’s never in the lunchroom,” he swayed side to side in his seat, “Dazai’s either outside sitting on a bench or in the library.”
“Thank you, uhhh…?”
“Atsushi - my name is Atsushi.”
“Thank you, Atsushi!” Chuuya started to leave, but a hand gripped his shoulder.
“Where are you going?” Akutagawa interrogated, “you’re not going to eat breakfast with us?”
“I have to do something really quick, but I’ll be back, I promise,” Chuuya practically vibrated, “It won’t take long.”
The moment Akutagawa let his friend go, he ran out of the lunchroom, not wasting any time. Navigating through the hallways, he peeped through the doors and windows, not finding anyone sitting on the benches. Coming to the conclusion that he wasn’t outside, he entered the library and spied inside. Some kids were on their school devices finishing up work, others were reading and studying, and the rest were in the back talking quietly amongst their friends.
And that’s when he spotted him.
Melting in relief, he rushed over to where Dazai was sitting. Lounging on one of the couches, feet propped up, Dazai was reading a book and occasionally flipping a page.
“Hey!” Chuuya whispered, plopping right next to Dazai. Dazai bounced upward with the newly added weight and fumbled with his book, almost losing his spot. Eyes rivaling that of an owl’s, he gawked at the ginger who was tapping his foot with excitement.
“I brought you some stuff this morning,” Chuuya took off his backpack and set it on the floor in front of him, unzipping the pocket, “I hope you don’t mind, but I got up early to make you some cookies and a smoothie.”
And, to prove his words, he pulled out a bag of fresh cookies and a smoothie cup.
“The smoothie is mostly berries,” Chuuya rattled on, “I thought It’d help with your mouth and all. Also, I made sure that I didn’t burn the cookies since It’d probably hurt to eat them if they were hard.”
Dazai ogled at the items in Chuuya’s hands.
“Well?” Chuuya shoved them forward, “take them!”
Shyly plucking the things from his grasp, he set them in his lap and turned his body to face Chuuya better.
“I hope you like it,” Chuuya bent his knees and fitted them on the sofa, “and I hope you don't die if you're allergic to them. Are you feeling any better from yesterday?”
Dazai was already drinking out of the smoothie and he tenderly laughed when he pulled it away and some of the contents were around his lips. Wiping it off with his sleeve, he shook his head, but was still smiling despite the fact that his mouth was aching.
“I’m sorry,” Chuuya murmured, resting his head on the back of the couch. To his confusion, Dazai leaned to the side and started going through his backpack. Planting a notebook down, he opened it up and started writing with a pen.
Stop being sorry, it’s fine! It’s not your fault.
Sulking, Chuuya picked out a pencil from his bag.
It is my fault - If I had not kicked the ball into your direction you wouldn’t be hurting as much.
Chuuya pivoted the notebook so Dazai could read what he scrawled down.
I’d be in pain with or without the ball hitting my face - it just hurts a tiny bit more, that’s it.
“Liar,” Chuuya sneered.
Dazai stuck his tongue out in a mocking way and rapidly scribbled something.
Poopy head
Chuuya gasped at the horribly drawn angry face and snatched the paper away.
If I’m such a poopy head, give me the stuff I made for you back.
No
Chuuya crossed his arms and glared.
Mine. Dazai wrote, adding lines under it to emphasize his point.
“Fine,” Chuuya tore his eyes away from him with a pout. A few seconds later, the notebook obscured his whole vision - Dazai had shoved it right in his face. With a scowl, he snatched it away from Dazai’s grip and read it.
Thank you
Chuuya dropped the pad in his lap, Dazai smiling sheepishly.
“You’re welcome,” Chuuya snapped, "or whatever."
They stayed like that, exchanging notes and horribly drawn doodles next to them. Eventually, a whole page was drawn on and Dazai had to flip to a clean sheet.
The bell that signaled school was starting rung and both of their faces morphed into something gloomy. Dazai took his notebook back and stuffed it into his backpack, zipping it up and throwing it over his shoulder. Keeping the smoothie in his hands, he put the bag of cookies in his hoodie pocket to snack on during class.
“Wait!” Chuuya tapped Dazai on the shoulder, “before you go, I have a question.”
Dazai towered over Chuuya and Chuuya’s breath hitched in his throat.
He didn’t know that Dazai was that tall…
Swallowing, Chuuya continued, “I was wondering if you wanted to sit together during lunch? I sit outside with a couple of my friends and I’d like it if you joined us, maybe?”
Dazai grinned.
He fucking grinned!
All his teeth showing - his braces out, he fucking grinned!
And it was fucking adorable !
Nodding eagerly, Dazai kept grinning - it was full of warmth and exploded with euphoria.
“Awesome!” Chuuya clasped his hands together, “I’ll see you then!”
Dazai waved goodbye and kept his smile as he drank his smoothie, the bottle already collecting moisture on the outside and making his hands wet. Weaving through the bookshelves, he exited through the back and clambered up the stairwell to his first class which was history.
Of course, when he entered, his friend, Kunikida, was already sitting down in his seat waiting for the period to begin. Dazai took his spot right next to him and harshly put his smoothie down on the desk, earning a glare from the already aggravated blond.
“I see that you’re feeling better,” Kunikida quipped, “quit slamming things around.”
Dazai was about to verbally respond but shook his head. Laying his backpack on the floor next to him, he took his seat and extracted his notepad back out. Kunikida messed with his glasses and cocked an eye at the already filled page with random words.
“What is all of that?”
Dazai stole Kunikida’s pen and put it to the paper.
The cute ginger gave me a smoothie and cookies this morning and $20 to get dinner last night.
Kunikida’s nose wrinkled in disgust, “what ginger?”
Dazai stared into nothing.
“Hello? What’s his name?”
Dazai’s shoulders rose and fell.
I don’t know.
“Can you describe him to me?”
People started to file in the classroom as Dazai got to describing how Chuuya looked. The low chatter of people drowned out their conversation, to which Dazai was somewhat grateful for.
Orange hair, blue eyes, freckles. Plays soccer. I think his jersey number is 13?
“Do you know the last name on the jersey?”
Macarena? Carbonara? Caracara?
“Nakahara?”
“YES!”
Dazai blanched, hand zooming to cover his mouth. The weirdest thing about it was that it didn’t hurt - not as much as it did yesterday. He kept rolling his tongue over the braces and opening his mouth, afraid if he were to try and speak again, it would actually hurt the next time.
“His name is Chuuya Nakahara - he’s won a few trophies for the school in soccer,” Kunikida tapped his pencil on the desk, “and you’re telling me he’s the one that hit you in the face with a ball yesterday?”
“Yeah,” Dazai spoke again in a whisper, surprising Kunikida.
“And he gave you all of that?” Kunikida pointed an accusing finger to the smoothie that was getting water all over the desk and the bag of cookies in Dazai’s hoodie pocket - occasionally he had stuck his hand in there and pulled out tiny pieces to much on during their one-sided conversation.
“Yup,” Dazai beamed.
“Well, that was nice of him,” Kunikida uttered when the bell rang, “just don’t make a mess.”
“I won’t,” Dazai whispered, taking another piece of one of the cookies and plopping it into his mouth, letting the chocolate melt in his mouth before chewing gently.
Their teacher closed the door and turned the projector on. All conversations halted as she flickered the lights on and off to get their attention.
“Good morning, everyone,” she announced, “like yesterday, we will be finishing the video and turning in our notes at the end of the hour. Any questions?”
Collective ‘no’s sounded around the classroom.
And with that, everyone retrieved their notes from yesterday and slapped them on the desk, pulling out pencils and pens and getting ready to finish up the assignment.
And through the entire hour, Dazai mindlessly slurped on his smoothie as loud as he could, mostly annoying Kunikida and a few other people that had the misfortune of sitting next to him.
“Weather says It’s going to rain sometime today,” Akutagawa rambled, “around the afternoon, I think.”
“During lunch?” Chuuya’s gut sank.
“Not sure,” Akutagawa nonchalantly shrugged his shoulders, “all they said was that it’d start mid-afternoon.”
Chuuya tapped on his school device, checking the weather. Right now was Advisory - a rest period for 45 minutes for students to take a breather, catch up on work, or study for an upcoming test. Akutagawa, Chuuya, and a few other friends in their soccer team were in the lunchroom finishing missed assignments. In unregulated intervals, Chuuya would stop working and search everywhere to see if he could spot Dazai, but he was nowhere to be seen. Dazai could be easily picked out from a crowd - he towered over everyone and always wore black.
Even with those factors, every time Chuuya’s gaze swept across the room, he could never spot him.
He just hoped Dazai could figure out where to find them for lunch. Chuuya mentally crossed his fingers - a futile action wishing for it to not rain.
“Eighty-three percent chance of rain,” Chuuya melted into his seat, “from twelve to four.”
“Right when lunch starts and when school ends,” Akutagawa clicked his tongue, “and we have to walk home in that shit.”
“Did you bring an umbrella?”
“Why would I?”
“I dunno,” Chuuya muttered, glancing back up from his paper to see if Dazai was near.
“What are you looking for?” Akutagawa grunted, annoyed with how much Chuuya was stopping his work, “you keep looking up every two seconds.”
“Sorry, I-”
Out of nowhere, someone tapped Chuuya on the shoulder, cutting off his former statement. Flicking back, his ponytail slapping him in the face, he turned to see nobody other than Dazai - a timid smile across his face.
“H-hi,” Dazai’s voice was quiet - almost too quiet. Chuuya was shocked, to say the least.
Dazai had spoken .
“H-hey! Hi!” Chuuya exclaimed, “here, take a seat right here!”
Patting down the empty spot next to Chuuya, Dazai set his things down on the table and sat.
“Uhh, who is he?”
“This is Dazai!” Chuuya gestured a hand towards the taller man, “he’s...the one that got hurt yesterday...”
Akutagawa took a gander at Dazai and said nothing else, going back to scribbling down solutions for the equations on his homework.
“He’s a bit moody, don’t mind him,” Chuuya rested his cheek on his fist, “so why are you here?”
Dazai opened his mouth to say something, but someone from the other side of the table interrupted him.
“Who is he, Chuuya?” Tachihara pointed a finger, “I’ve never seen ‘em before.”
“This is my new friend, Dazai.”
“Friend?” Both Tachihara and Dazai echoed.
“Yeah?” Chuuya shut his device halfway, “what’s wrong?”
Tachihara shook his head and Dazai played with the drawstrings of his hoodie.
“Anyway,” Chuuya closed his laptop, “back to my earlier question.”
“...L-lunch?”
“Oh, right!” Chuuya put his device away, “sorry, I forgot. Does your mouth still hurt?”
“Sorta,” Dazai breathed. Chuuya had to strain his ears to be able to understand what Dazai was saying - not that he was complaining; he was ecstatic that Dazai was able to talk again.
“Did you take some medicine this morning?”
“Jeez, mom much,” Akutagawa sneered. Chuuya didn’t waver at all and punched him in the shoulder.
“Fuckin’ child abuse,” Akutagawa kept going, Chuuya ignoring him and plucking his phone from his back pocket.
“Yes,” Dazai cocked an eyebrow at the interaction, “I did.”
“Well, that’s good,” Chuuya turned his phone on and flicked all his messages away. One, though, caught his eye.
“Hey, Akutagawa…?”
“Mh.”
“Did you know we had a game next week?”
“A what?” Akutagawa shot up.
“A game against the-” Chuuya scrolled down on the email, “oh fuck .”
“What? Against who?”
“The Indians ,” Chuuya spat, “next Friday.”
“Why didn’t the coach fucking tell us?” Akutagawa slammed his pencil down, “Fucking hell.”
While their conversation grew more heated, Dazai shrunk in his spot, keeping to himself. Chuuya was fuming in his seat, only growing more angrier with each sentence he read aloud in the email. Tanizaki caught onto this and started adding his own comments, only riling up the rest of the soccer team that was sitting at the table.
Before Chuuya was about to rip his own hair out, Dazai placed a shy hand on his arm, causing the ginger to tense up. Everyone at the table stopped chattering amongst themselves about the email and directed their attention to Dazai and Chuuya.
Dazai was speechless - all these eyes made him nervous.
“Yeah?” Chuuya tucked a strand of hair behind his ear, “what’s wrong?”
“I-” Dazai’s eyes shot side to side, fully taking in what was going on.
“I’m sorry!” Chuuya’s hair bristled on his arms with how warm Dazai’s hand was - it enveloped his whole body. “Were we being too loud?”
Dazai made a few confused noises. Out of the blue, he shoved the empty smoothie cup Chuuya had given him this morning into Chuuya’s face.
Dazed, Chuuya grabbed it. “Oh, thank you!” He took note of the water droplets inside of the cup - Dazai must have tried to wash it out in the bathroom sink before giving it to him. “Did you like it?”
“Yes! Thank you,” Dazai grinned, showing off his braces - Chuuya couldn’t get over how cute it was.
“Wait,” Tachihara butted in, “you made him a drink?”
“You made him a drink?” Akutagawa repeated as if he was hurt.
“Yeah? It was just a smoothie,” Chuuya’s fingers curled around the cup, “why?”
“And you didn’t make me one?” Akutagawa pouted.
Tachihara added, “I didn’t get one either .”
“Well, that’s because neither you have braces and had me sling a soccer ball at your face,” Chuuya quipped, “It was just a friendly thing I did to say sorry.”
“You know what we have to do at practice tomorrow, right Akutagawa?” Tachihara smirked.
“Kick each other in the face to get a smoothie, right?”
“Aww, yeah!”
“Ohh, no ,” Chuuya bit his bottom lip, “you crackheads are not doing that-”
Dazai poked Chuuya’s shoulder, secretly slipping the empty plastic bag that once held the cookies back. Quietly, Chuuya slid it into his pocket-
“What's in that bag?” Akutagawa questioned.
Shit.
“Don’t tell me that's more of Chuuya’s cooking,” Tachihara got out of his seat and slapped his hands on the table, leaning over to catch a glimpse.
“Jesus christ,” Chuuya complained, “shoo, you rats.”
“Why won’t you ever cook for us,” Tachihara jabbed, “you never bring snacks for practice.”
“Oh my god ,” Chuuya rubbed his temples, “ fine . If I make something for tomorrow, will you guys shut up?”
Everyone at the table replied with yes, encouraging Chuuya to roll his eyes and stuff his face into his hands.
Dazai, once again, poked Chuuya’s shoulder.
“I’m sorry.”
“Nooo, It’s not your fault,” Chuuya waved his hand, “these fuckos can smell food from a mile away.”
“Heard that,” Akutagawa jeered.
“Yes, because last time I checked, you have ears, Akutagawa.”
"Last time I checked, your brain was the size of a walnut."
"Last time I checked, I didn't have a brain scan."
"Uh," Dazai sweatdropped. Chuuya moved his body away from the team, blocking out their continuous protests and arguments.
"Sorry about that," Chuuya apologized, "it doesn't take much to rile us up."
Dazai smiled and retracted his head into his hoodie, his fingers tapping the tabletop.
"This might sound weird," Chuuya's voice dropped, "but I really like your smile," he confessed.
Dazai grinned again and tried to hide his face, Chuuya laughing lightheartedly.
"Quit flirting," Akutagawa pulled on Chuuya’s hair, "It's disgusting."
"Ow! You’re disgusting!" Chuuya fought back, grabbing one of Akutagawa’s 'skunk tails' and yanking it.
Only then did it escalate.
The group was able to eat lunch peacefully if you let a few shoves slip by. Other than that, It was nice and cool - the continuous breeze soothed everyone's senses. Dazai was particularly thankful that Chuuya and his friends didn’t eat inside the lunchroom - out here on the benches it was serene and quiet.
There was only one thing that had upset Chuuya, but nobody else really seemed to pick it up besides him.
Dazai didn’t have a lot on his plate - or rather, all he had gotten was a fruit juice and a cup of jello.
"Hey," Chuuya exhaled, "Dazai."
Dazai was mid-sip in his juice, "mh?" He extracted it from his lips and swallowed, "yeah?"
“Aren’t you hungry?” Chuuya pushed, “why didn’t you get any real food?”
“I…” Dazai gave a hard stare to his tray, “..don’t know?”
“Here,” Chuuya tore his sandwich in half and offered Dazai the other, “take it. It’s soft enough, right?”
“I-” Dazai stammered, “that’s yours -”
“One half of it is, yeah,” Chuuya waved it up and down.
Dazai made no effort to take it from him.
“C’mon, eat something,” Chuuya pleaded, “please.”
Sighing in defeat, Dazai plucked the other half and bit down on it, slowly chewing. Chuuya was finally able to finish his food without the nagging thoughts of Dazai refusing to eat.
Lunch ended rather quickly - too fast for Dazai’s liking. Collecting their things and dumping their trays, they set them down for the lunch lady to gather. Right before Dazai was going to go his way and Chuuya to his, Chuuya got his attention.
“Do you maybe want to uh..” he mouthed, “do that again tomorrow? If it isn’t raining of course - we sit at the far right table next to the band kids if it does.”
“My brother sits there,” Dazai nodded, “sure - thank you.”
“No problem!” Chuuya chirped.
...
A brother, huh…?
“So is that ball kid your new friend now?”
“His name is Dazai, not ‘ball kid,’” Chuuya wrinkled his nose, “and yeah, I’d like to think so.”
Akutagawa nodded in acknowledgment, leading the way to their next shared class, “and he’s feeling better?”
“I’d like to think so.”
“And you got a crush on ‘em?”
“I’d like to think s-NO,” Chuuya sputtered, “N-No!”
“Uhh huh,” Akutagawa mocked, “you never brought me cookies to school, yet you did for him the next day after you met him.”
“And?” Chuuya stopped in the hallway to get a quick drink from the water fountain, “that’s because I didn’t kick you in the face.”
“Still,” Akutagawa halted in his tracks as well, getting out of the way of the other students that were trying to pass by, “It’d be really cool of you if you did.”
Chuuya wiped the excess water off of his chin, “I bet.”
“Wait- kick me in the face or make me cookies?”
“Yes.”
Akutagawa shoved Chuuya into a locker and slipped his phone out of his pocket. Chuuya, without hesitation, pushed him back, but Akutagawa was too immersed in his phone to care.
“Practice is canceled today,” Akutagawa read off of his phone, “because of the incoming weather.”
“Ughhhh,” Chuuya grunted, “it’s not even raining yet and they call it off, knowing full well we have a game soon.”
“Yup,” Akutagawa popped the p, “coach is a sack ‘a shit anyway.”
“It only affects us, anyway,” Chuuya waved to a few girls after they had waved first, “just means that we have to do more work.”
Akutagawa cocked a brow at that, but nevertheless, brushed it off. Taking a right and walking all the way down the hall, they entered the classroom that was second to last on the left side of the hallway - biology.
“I’m really not looking forward to getting rained on,” Akutagawa announced, the freshmen’s heads popping up at the deep voice.
“Shut up, at least you have a hoodie you can wear. I’m going to be drenched .”
“Sucks to suck,” Akutagawa let his backpack fall off of his shoulder and thump to the floor.
“You would know,” Chuuya backfired, glaring at his friend.
“I sure would,” Akutagawa winked.
Chuuya’s lips curled in disgust.
This was going to be a long hour, and to prove it, before the bell even rang, the teacher closed the door.
“I hope you all studied for this test today,” he grumbled.
“ Oh, motherf -”
“You feelin’ better, Daz?”
“Yeah,” Dazai swiped his tongue across his braces for the billionth time that day, “how’s your practice going?”
“Absolutely horrible!” Atsushi cried, “this thing has to be broken - whenever I blow into it, it makes no sound!”
“Show me really quick,” Dazai motioned with his fingers. Atsushi unclasped his instrument’s box, using his knee as support, and put it together. Then, just as he was about to blow into it, Dazai had flipped the clarinet around.
“You’re blowing into the bottom, dummy.”
Atsushi smoothed his fingers across the instrument, quirking his eye and peeping into the hole he was blowing into, “I-... wha-”
Dazai ruffled his hair, “class is starting soon, don’t be late.”
“B-but I thought…”
As each class flew by, the sky got dangerously darker - the classrooms that usually had the lights off had to turn them on because nobody could see what they were doing. Occasionally, the sky rumbled, threatening to explode. Thankfully, school just got out and everyone that was walking was trying to get a head-start before the clouds finally gave out - some ran, others speed-walked, and the rest had their head tilted to the sky, internally cursing.
Chuuya was doing just that - he’s never seen storm clouds that dark before.
“Chuuya?”
At the sound of his name being called, said male pivoted his stance. The entrance door shutting behind him, Dazai approached the ginger. Breaking eye-contact, he, too, directed his attention to the sky.
“Damn,” he muttered, “you walk home too?”
“Yeah,” Chuuya stepped closer to Dazai without knowing, “sucks shit, doesn’t it?”
“Agreed,” Dazai craned his neck back up for a few seconds before resuming his walk, Chuuya keeping his place right beside him. “At least I’m not my brother - he has to stay after school for band practice.”
“You aren’t going to pick him up if it’s raining?”
“Hell no,” Dazai laughed, “he’ll be fine.”
“What an amazing brother you are,” Chuuya chuckled.
Luck never seemed to be on Chuuya’s side; after a few minutes of walking with Dazai, thunder shook the ground.
And then, the rain came.
For a few seconds, it only sprinkled, but out of nowhere, the rain came crashing down. Instinctively, Dazai put his arm over Chuuya to keep him from getting too soaked - the two of them were now running at this point, sharing laughter and curses along the way.
The weirdest thing was, Dazai had clasped his hand with Chuuya’s and began to pull him to wherever he was going, dodging puddles and looking both ways before crossing the road.
“My house is back down there-”
“Mine is right here,” Dazai released Chuuya’s hand and pointed to a shaggy, tan house, “we can dry off for a few on the porch.”
Chuuya’s side kept brushing against Dazai’s, his heart palpitating in his chest from the newly added adrenaline. Hopping up the stairs, the porch roof gave the two shelter as they caught their breath.
Lightning struck down a few miles away and Chuuya jumped.
“You afraid of storms?” Dazai asked, unraveling the backpack’s straps from his arms, lightly placing it by the door.
“Would it make me a wuss if I said yes?”
“Not at all,” Dazai’s knees popped as he bent down. Crossing his legs, he beckoned for Chuuya to join him.
Not wasting any time, Chuuya kneeled beside him and took his backpack off as well, letting it drop behind him.
The two silently listened to the rain hitting the roof, Chuuya closing his eyes and breathing in the cool, rain-scented air. Dazai said nothing as he observed the quirky soccer player - his orange hair fluttering in the refreshing wind.
“Is something wrong?” Chuuya batted his eyelashes, “is there something on my face?”
“N-”
“GUUUUUYYYS!!!”
Chuuya bounced three feet in the air, almost breaking his neck with the sheer force of swinging it to find out who had screamed.
“DAZAIIII!!!” A tiny, gray-haired boy barreled down the sidewalk, using his clarinet case as a make-shift umbrella.
“Atsushi?” Dazai hopped up, “I thought you were at practice-”
“NOOO!” Atsushi was still running, “SCREW PRACTICE! IT’S RAINING!”
Chuuya was still on the ground, finding this whole interaction amusing. Atsushi gasped loudly once he made it up the steps.
“YOU!”
“M-me?” Chuuya looked behind him.
“You!” Atsushi repeated, lowering his case, “I remember you! From this morning!”
As if the situation couldn’t get any weirder, the door to Dazai’s house opened.
And out came a tall man with maroon hair.
"What's with all this ruckus?" He asked, "haha, ruckus. What a funny word."
Three pairs of eyes locked on the man.
"Was it something I said-"