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Kunikida fastened Dazai’s tie, then had the other do the same to him.
“You really should try some other hairstyles,” remarked Dazai. The brunette began to play with the blonde’s long waves of hair.
“I’ve been wearing this for years now,” Kunikida retorted. “It’s the most practical one. I don’t need to spend too much time tying it, it keeps my hair out of my face, and it doesn’t look unnecessarily extravagant.”
“You’re such a party crasher,” complained Dazai. His eyes lit up with mischief. “But you can’t stop me from braiding it right now!”
He grabbed Kunikida’s hair so he’d have to hurt himself if he tried to stop Dazai. He then split it into three sections and crossed the pieces over each other. Meanwhile, the taller man blindly swatted at Dazai’s arms in a failed attempt to stop him.
“I look perfectly fine with a ponytail,” he protested. “You don’t need to do this.”
Dazai clicked his tongue as he shook his head in a disagreeing manner and tied the braid off. He pulled his phone from his pocket, photographed his handiwork, and presented it to its wearer.
He smirked pridefully. “You can’t possibly be mad at this. It’s almost as beautiful as I am!”
Kunikida smacked Dazai’s arm. “That’s barely a comparison.”
The shorter reeled back in false shock. “Are you telling me that you think your hair is prettier than me? That’s a big ego you got there.”
“That’s not—“
“Or are you suggesting that nothing could ever match the sheer fabulousness of myself? That’s remarkably kind.”
Kunikida brushed some loose hair behind his ears. “Don’t let my opinion inflate your ego.”
“Aww, you do think I’m handsome!” Dazai beamed, wrapping his husband in a big hug.
As much as he pretended not to, Kunikida did care for Dazai just as much as he him. He just didn’t project his feelings as flamboyantly. He smiled at the touch, replying, “Of course you are. I love you, and you know it.”
Dazai smiled back. “Mmm, that’s sweet.”
They shared a quick kiss and made their way to the door. “Bye, Atsushi, we’ll see you when Parent Night’s over!”
“See you!” Atsushi called back with a happy intonation in his voice.
He’d seemed remarkably happier once he’d started attending school. Despite his awareness of how hated it was, he didn’t struggle much with homework thanks to how hard his dads had worked to teach him. Thanks to having the Tanizakis, who graciously saved their antics for after class due to their awareness of Atsushi’s social circumstances, he wasn’t too lonely. His classmates were all relatively kind to him, save for one straggler, but kids like that always existed in the corners of anywhere.
“After you,” Dazai bowed as he opened the car door.
This time, Kunikida went along with it and mock curtsied. “What a gentleman.”
His action was rewarded with a kiss on the hand. “You’re driving, you know,” he whispered.
Of course he was. Dazai always got him to go along with his plans. To be fair, being completely and utterly smitten with him made it hard to refuse him when it came to trivial matters. So of course Kunikida took the keys and sat in the driver’s seat.
They arrived at the school with just enough time to get to where they needed to be. The classroom surged with all kinds of emotional energy of parents, and everyone inside packed each other in like sardines. Everyone swirled around in a hectic storm of people searching for seats. The two had to hold hands just so that they wouldn’t lose each other in the crowd. Eventually they settled at a desk near the back.
“I’m glad we were able to find a spot,” sighed Kunikida gladly.
Dazai didn’t respond. Kunikida turned his head towards him to see that he was glaring daggers at a short ginger haired man in a black fedora. He thought about shaking his partner’s arm to get his attention as he normally would, but decided it would be better not to treat him like he does at work, not in front of all those people who’d then judge him and project that judgment onto their children who would then judge Atsushi. He wouldn’t do that to his son in a million years. He might have not wanted to adopt him at first, but he thanked goodness that Dazai had convinced him. Having his wonderful husband and son at his side allowed him to relax, as contradictory as that sounded. Instead of spending every night poring over his ideals, which although he still upheld, he realized stopped him from enjoying his life, he could spend that time with the two people loved the most.
Dazai continued his glaring into the presentation. Asking why he looked so hateful bubbled between Kunikida’s lips, but he refused to let the words spill out. He’d ask afterward. Clearly he was the only one that was paying much attention to the speaker, and he wouldn’t let a sentence of this important speech go unheard by him.
The teacher drawled on about the school’s policies in case anyone hadn’t the time to read them yet. That couldn’t help but bother him. They were sending their kids here. They should at least learn the basic rundown of the rules. He listened on despite that, knowing that that was how these things worked.
Finally, they addressed the rules specific to their class. He could have nearly kissed the teacher’s shoes. Enough time had been wasted on information that should have been known beforehand. The rules themselves were simple. In fact, since they were so basic and to the point, he only had to use one page of his notebook to jot them all down. The last one made wonder under what conditions the rule was made: no abilities in class. Hopefully someone had just used theirs to cause mischief and not to harm the other students.
Suddenly, he fell backward ever so slightly. Not enough to cause a ruckus, but enough to break his concentration and hurt his elbows.
A smug humored expression stretched from ear to ear on the man with the hat as this occurred. Dazai gave him one last foul stare then turned to Kunikida with questioning eyes. The startled victim waved his hands at the wrist to symbolize he hadn’t been harmed and focused his attention back on the teacher.
“I hope your children enjoy their first year here,” finished the teacher with a grin.
The rest of the attendees stood up from their seats and trickled out the room.
Dazai grabbed Kunikida’s arm and suggested, “Let’s get out of here. If we get too tired we won’t be as productive at work.”
Kunikida knew well Dazai was trying to hide something. He never much cared about things like missing out on work or sleep. His unsettled attitude obviously stemmed from the man in the hat, but he’d wait to ask until Dazai calmed down.
An uncomfortable and bothered feeling beat against his chest as he thought about what had happened. Regardless, he had gotten the gist of how Atsushi’s classroom functioned, and that was what he needed.
He pulled the keys from his pocket, a small laminated photo of the two of them on their honeymoon swinging at the bottom of the keychain. As he placed the key in the lock, Dazai interrupted him.
“Would you give me a second to go use the restroom before we go?” he asked embarrassedly.
It was an excuse, but with Dazai, these kinds of things happened often. As to what occurred when he did this, Kunikida did not know, but back when they first met, the president had advised him not to question moments where he disappeared. He strongly disagreed with that command. After all, he had a right to know what his partner did. They were married, for goodness sake!
The worst part about the disappearances was tied between the cold mood it left Dazai in and the fact that he never quite told what was going on. How could he help if he didn’t know how to?
————————————————-
“What are you doing here?” Dazai hissed. The icy back outdoor hallway wind whipped at his dark chocolate hair, and the flickering ceiling lights accompanied with the ghastly glow from the moon illuminated the hateful fire burning in his eyes.
“I could ask you the same question, traitor,” struck back Chuuya. He held firmly onto his hat to make sure the wind didn’t blow it off, and the low shade over the top half of his head accentuated the menace he just barely held back. “You just up and left the kid you took in as a son! He never got over it, you know. Don’t think we never saw you looking at that new kid of yours with that sickly sweet expression. Do you even know how hard you broke his heart?”
Dazai smiled grimly. “Unlike you, I’ve found what it means to truly live. You couldn’t begin to imagine the happiness I feel around the people I love. That kid was only ever a pain with too much, where Atsushi could only be the mirror opposite. He and Kunikida prove to me every day just how right I was to leave the Port Mafia.”
Chuuya ripped a pocket knife from his back pocket with diligent ease and speed. “You’re the slimiest piece of shit I’ve ever met, you know that?”
He rushed toward Dazai with a running start, slashing at him with the techniques of years of training. Expectedly, none of his slices connected.
“Now that I think about it, you’ve finally found a reason to live, so you’d actually be mad if I killed you,” Chuuya commented as he attacked.
Dazai quit dodging at that sentence, and his ex-partner used the pause to force him against the wall of lockers in a chokehold. “But as much as I want to, Ryuunosuke and the boss told me not to. I can’t imagine why he wants to keep you alive after the way you ruined his life and left him to be raised by a freaking vessel of a monster of destruction that barely counts as a human.”
Despite being held by the neck and pushed against a wall, he chuckled. “You should tell a therapist about your identity crisis, not me.”
Chuuya seethed. “Don’t joke about that.”
“We really do bring out the worst in each other, don’t we?” Dazai laughed humorlessly.
His grip tightened. “You can say that again.”
“Anyway,” Dazai batted at Chuuya’s hand, “you have a meeting to prepare for tomorrow. If the boss knew you hurt me, he wouldn’t be very pleased.” He gestured to the concrete. “Also, a school is the worst place to spill blood, you know. All the kids’ll be buzzing about it.”
With a defeated growl, Chuuya let his hold go. “Don’t you go thinking that you beat me. I wouldn’t have even attacked you if you hadn’t egged me on.”
“You’re too impulsive,” Dazai tsked. He nimbly dodged a punch.
“Just cause I can’t kill you doesn’t mean I can’t hurt you,” Chuuya warned.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Dazai responded calmly and began to walk away. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’ll be off to be with the people I love.”
“Whatever,” grunted Chuuya, who then turned to get towards the back parking lot.
As Dazai made it back to a suspicious Kunikida, the blonde asked, “Who was the man in the hat? I saw you two staring daggers the entire night.”
“He’s someone I would rather not remember.” He kissed his cheek, but his charisma had drained away. “Let’s get back home.”
Kunikida only nodded, but he didn’t miss the bruise of someone’s fingers on his husband’s neck.