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-
Rainbows after the rain and vibrantly blooming flowers spread color…
As you gazed up at the crimson sky that day, I fell in love with you.
— if we shine by goose house
-
…It’s been going on for a week.
Dazai suppresses a sigh when he arrives at his shoe locker and sees yet another cutesy handmade postcard slipped inside. Today, there’s a rough pencil drawing of an umbrella, as though to nag Dazai into not forgetting to bring his umbrella in defense against the bouts of springtime afternoon showers.
“It’s Chuuya-kun again?” Ango asks from beside him, already completed his task of changing into outdoor shoes. All around them are various students with their classes finished. Some are going for their after-school clubs, while members of the going-home club like Dazai are loitering around chatting with their friends.
Dazai lets out a shake of his head as he stuffs the card into his pocket. “I’ve always thought that the chibi is irredeemably stupid, but he can have good taste every once in a while, hmm?”
“I think it’s nice,” OdaSaku says with an approving smile. “I’m glad that you have one more person who cares about you, Dazai-kun.”
Pouting, Dazai protests, “OdaSaku, don’t say it like that, it’s weird! That chibi is just one of many who have fallen for my dashing looks, after all!”
Slamming the door shot after changing to outdoor shoes, Dazai links arms with his two friends and drags them away, starting their walk back to the dorms.
-
The following day, Dazai sniffs a bit as he trudges slowly towards the shoe lockers.
Yosano-sensei didn’t write him a stronger prescription, a knowing glint in her eye as she’s predicted that he’s going to probably swallow them by a fistful instead of following the prescribed dosages. Instead, she’s written him an excuse slip so he can skip his last class and sleep off his flu.
It’s there that Dazai sees Chuuya pacing in front of his shoe locker, an umbrella hanging on his wrist as he visibly wrestles with himself. Dazai doesn’t have to be an experienced lip reader to read ‘should I, should I not’ on Chuuya’s mouth.
It’s… kind of adorable, in a very strange, chibi way.
Springtime showers aren’t uncommon, but they’ve been coming quite often ever since classes started. Dazai’s never been the type to care about things such as bringing umbrellas to school, even during inclement weather. It’s why he’s come to school today with a raging flu, after getting caught in a thunderstorm yesterday after-school.
…Still, for Chuuya, someone from a different class, to keep track of his health is…
There’s got to be only one explanation for it, right?
Chuuya’s definitely in love with him.
Maybe that’s too strong and serious a word for someone so stupid as Chuuya?
Hmm, Chuuya definitely has a crush on him, then.
All this extra effort of leaving him not-quite-love-letters in his shoe locker, of looking so worried at the thought of him getting a flu… that’s the only explanation.
Dazai definitely doesn’t reciprocate Chuuya’s feelings. He’s too tall to fall in love with a shortstack, for one. Secondly, he despises everything about the hatrack—starting from his tacky hats, his too-loud fashion sense, his muscle-for-brains simplistic outlook… everything, really. He has eleven (and counting) notebooks filled with things he hates about the other, a collection that is bound to grow the longer he knows the other. It’s bad enough when they were on separate schools, but now that Chuuya’s basically chased him to this high school…
Dazai shudders.
Chuuya is still pacing like an idiot, muttering too loudly about the pros and cons of leaving his only umbrella for Dazai’s use.
It’s so unbearable to watch, that Dazai’s chest hurts just by looking.
So, he clears his throat loudly, and says, “Even if you steal my shoes, your height is already hopeless, you know?”
The sound of his voice visibly jolts Chuuya, who violently flails like a cockroach that just got swatted. “I-I-I am not here to steal your shoes!”
“Oh?” Dazai cocks an eyebrow as he spies the flood of red on Chuuya’s face, rivalling the hue of his hair. “So you’re here to sniff my shoes like an idiot then?”
Chuuya twitches and he throws the umbrella towards Dazai’s chest. Having expected that reaction, Dazai is ready to catch the projectile. Even so, it’s thrown with such a force that he doesn’t have to fake the “Ow, ow, ow, you’re such a brute!” too much.
Oh, but it’s worth it to see Chuuya’s expression wage war between horror (over hurting his crush) and enraged embarrassment (at being caught stalking his crush).
In the end, because Chuuya is a real-life specimen of the rare species of a male tsundere, he simply sputters nonsensical things such as, “I won’t beat you up today because you’re sick! S-So! You should get well soon! So I can beat you up! Don’t run into the rain anymore!”
“Ah, you’re worried about me,” Dazai simpers in conclusion.
Chuuya looks like he’s having a heart attack right there. “I most certainly not! Get the fuck out of here already, you’re supposed to rest when you’re sick!”
“You’re really not worried, huh.” Dazai says while barely managing to muffle his laughter. “I’d love to go back and rest and all, but a certain chibi is blocking my shoe locker.”
Chuuya’s blush doesn’t recede even as he nearly runs away in embarrassment. “I, I knew that! Urgh, I hate you!”
Dazai merely laughs in response, his headache gone and his body already feeling lighter after managing to tease Chuuya.
-
Lunchtime two days later finds Dazai ambling through the hallways, an umbrella hooked around his wrist, flu completely gone.
Atsushi looks confused. “Dazai-san, you’re not going to nap in the Student Council Office?”
“Fufufu, Atsushi-kun, sometimes adults need to do adult things, you know?” Dazai says as he waves off his kouhai’s concerns over him passing up the chance to laze around.
“…Right…” Atsushi doesn’t look convinced.
It makes Dazai proud, because Atsushi has certainly learned a lot of things during his first year of knowing him. Now, as a sophomore, he’s certainly harder to fool.
“Think of it this way,” Dazai says while tapping his chin, the two of them nearing class 3-E, Chuuya’s homeroom. “At least I won’t be around to loudly wonder what lunch would you bring to the ‘Mysterious Beauty of the Infirmary’, ne?”
Atsushi, predictably, flushes red. “It’s only because I have some groupwork with Akutagawa!”
“Fufufu, the budding of young love, ne?”
“Dazai-san!”
It’s quite funny, the way Atsushi thinks he can hide his growing relationship with Akutagawa. Dazai has a lot of plans on how to tease his two underclassmen about it. For now though… “Now, off you go, I’m about to do Very Adult Things~♪”
Atsushi looks at the classroom’s label. Then a look of understanding flashes on his face. “Oh. You’re visiting Chuuya-san!”
“Nope~♪” Dazai denies as he twirls the umbrella on his wrist. “I’m here to play with a dog~♫”
Atsushi sighs. “Dazai-san… you really shouldn’t antagonize Chuuya-san so much…”
Hmm. Dazai side-eyes Atsushi, wondering just when his kouhai suddenly became so protective of a chibi.
Not that Chuuya ever needs someone to protect him. If anything, it’s the rest of the world who needs protection from him! After all, the last time Dazai has seen him wear casual clothing, he nearly ended up gouging his own eyes so he can avoid seeing all those loud colors in one tiny package. And that bellybutton! He’d have liked to congratulate Chuuya for knowing that he should wear shirts that are sized for infants, given how small he is, but to wear shirts that are cropped that much… Dazai could have done without seeing the other’s six-pack!
Oh, and the fact that Chuuya’s picked up a ‘delinquent’ label despite being a goody-goody two-shoes who always pays attention to class, by beating up random gangs all by himself.
How vexing, really.
Dazai instead pitches his voice high as he parries with a, “Atsushi-kun, you shouldn’t keep your Mysterious Beauty waiting, you know?”
Atsushi throws him a dirty look, before dashing away from him.
It’s just in time for Dazai to be noticed by the person who tails Chuuya like goldfish shit.
Tachihara looks terrified for a moment, upon seeing him on 3-E’s doorway. But then, he immediately turns to Chuuya, who nearly upends his school desk in his haste to stand up upon seeing him, his blush spreading to his unbuttoned uniform’s collar.
“B-B-Bastard!” Chuuya yells like a completely crazy lunatic. Or someone completely head-over-heels for him. It really is so embarrassing, how obvious he is. “What the flying fuck are you doing here?!”
“Ano ne, Chuuya,” he drawls, slowly walking towards Chuuya’s desk, right near the window. “I go to this school too, you know?”
There are dozens of cherry blossom trees around the school building, and with April approaching its final week, there’s a number of pink petals being blown into the classroom’s opened windows. There’s a petal right on the whorl atop Chuuya’s tiny head. Dazai presses down on it, as though it’s a button that can activate Chuuya’s more docile mode.
It surprisingly works, Chuuya sputtering wordlessly and ineffectually, looking as though all of his coherent thought (which isn’t much to begin with) has left him. He looks torn between slamming his elbows towards Dazai’s gut, or trying to avoid swooning into Dazai’s arms.
Dazai is prepared for both reactions, but he’s still mildly disappointed that Chuuya’s gone for the more violent option. Dazai sidesteps the elbow-attack quickly. Ah, in the end, Chuuya still can’t rein in his more beastly impulses, huh? As expected of a dog.
It shouldn’t be surprising—after all, the stalking’s only started since the first week of school. Before that, Chuuya’s never given the impression that he’s interested in anything else but punching Dazai to the ground. Dazai faintly wonders what kind of vacation Chuuya had (he’s heard Chuuya’s fathers brought him overseas for a month), for him to suddenly realize that he’s not immune to being attracted to Dazai’s dashing looks.
…Puberty?
Dazai then looks at Chuuya’s pitiful height.
Eh, probably not.
“O-Oi,” Chuuya grinds out dangerously, “Whatever you’re thinking, stop it!”
“Oh? You can predict what I’m thinking about?”
“I know it’s probably some annoying shit!” Chuuya gripes—which would sound more convincing, if he isn’t blushing so cutely while finally gathering the courage to hold Dazai’s arms with gloved hands. Gloves? That’s new. Just one more thing acquired by the chibi’s tacky fashion sense. He doesn’t do anything like try to break Dazai’s arms, which is just one more strike on Dazai’s list of evidence about his feelings. “The way you’re looking at me…”
“The way I’m looking at you?” Dazai tilts his head, blinks down. He doesn’t think that he’s ever looked at Chuuya differently—maybe this is the legendary heart-eyes filter that he’s heard about. Chuuya’s starting to hallucinate things about how Dazai looks at him, truly pitiful. “How do I look at you?”
From beyond the little bubble they’ve made for themselves, 3-E’s classroom empties out quickly, but it’s not like Dazai pays attention to that.
“L-Like you’re—”
“It’s strange,” Dazai continues, because the way Chuuya’s eyes are glittering feels dangerous, somehow. “Because all I can see is a cockroach?”
A beat.
A few minutes later, Dazai is clutching at his stomach on the floor, laughter spilling out from his mouth as Chuuya makes a racket above him, fuming while blushing the entire while.
Ah, it’s worth it.
-
It’s only a whim.
“You’re still not going back?” OdaSaku asks as they split a pack of animal-shape biscuits between the two of them. OdaSaku’s part is bigger, because he still has to swing by the Student Council Room and give the ever-hardworking Ango his share. “That’s rare.”
Dazai busies himself with picking all the dog-shaped and sheep-shaped ones, humming slightly. “I might try to jump from one of the treetops.”
OdaSaku pauses for a moment, before, a neutral, “Our school’s soccer team has a friendly match, right?”
“Really?” Dazai replies, also neutral. “Maybe I can watch them if I’m bored then.”
“Since it’s Friday, I’ll have dinner with Ango outside tonight,” OdaSaku adds. “We’ll probably come back late, so we can’t bring you dinner. We’ll be unable to check as to what time you return to your dorm too.”
Dazai grins. “Is that so? Enjoy your date, OdaSaku.”
It’s the Friday before the Golden Week holidays begin, and the excitement towards the week of holidays is evident in everyone.
There’s such a peaceful calm, that Dazai can’t bring himself to bother with climbing up to one of the sakura treetops. Instead, he yawns widely as he sits against the tree trunk, grass and fallen petals blanketing his ass as he stretches his legs. He busies himself with occasionally nibbling on the biscuits as he plays a new fighting mobile game that he downloaded earlier today.
From beyond his spot is the soccer field.
Chuuya’s voice is bright and loud as he barks instructions to his teammates, as the team captain. Despite not knowing a lot about soccer, Dazai can see that the opposing school isn’t exactly weak. But Chuuya easily bulldozes past their defense, dribbling quickly as though he’s grown up surgically attached to a ball. Not even getting triple-teamed is able to stop him, since he’s petite and agile enough to duck past any wall they’re able to build around him.
Dazai’s fingers are idly swiping on his phone screen, the pinging sounds from the game drowned out by the powerful whooshing sound of Chuuya’s strike finding its target on the back of the net, the opposing goalkeeper unable to do anything but gape at the attack.
How predictable.
How boring.
Still, Dazai doesn’t manage to move past the training stage of the game, his concentration stolen by the one-sided massacre done by Chuuya’s soccer team.
-
The game ends on an embarrassing 10-1. Dazai has a feeling that even that one point surrendered is merely because their school’s goalkeeper has been caught unaware, busy flirting with the team’s manager.
Dazai yawns again as he spies the sunset looking like it’s splattered with blood. It’s such a vibrant color, but Chuuya’s blush is even more effervescent, as soon as he notices his approach.
Tachihara, the vice-captain, quickly removes his arm around Chuuya’s shoulder, taking over the duties to make pleasantries with the team that they’ve handily beaten. Dazai ignores him, because Chuuya’s all sweaty and beaming at him like they haven’t spent the past couple of years vocally wishing death upon each other.
“We did great, didn’t we?” Chuuya asks him, eyes looking so bright as though he’s stolen stars from the skies for his personal use. “I think our team can really go far this year!”
“Your opponents are idiots,” Dazai says snidely, shoving the packet of biscuits towards Chuuya’s sweaty face. “If they committed defense against you, they’d have won the game.”
“…You really watched?” Chuuya blinks in surprise.
Dazai continues his analysis of the dull game. “You’re the only one who has enough attacking prowess, so shutting you down is the same as shutting down the entire team.”
“…Oi, stop insulting my teammates!”
Dazai shoves the packet harder against Chuuya’s forehead. “I’ve been bored to tears by the game. How are you gonna make it up to me?”
“H-Ha?! I didn’t ask you to w-watch!” Chuuya sputters in anger, which would be more believable if he isn’t clutching at the packet of biscuits like a lifeline. He’s blushing again, visibly flattered that Dazai’s deigned to watch him. Really, what’s the point of denying it? Dazai doesn’t get it. It’s obvious that he has a crush on him; it’s obvious that he has no chance with him. Still, Chuuya’s an idiot, so he simmers down and kicks at a random pebble, ducking his chin so that his facial expression is mostly hidden as he softly says, “But… thanks for watching. I’ll consider your advice for our training.”
“What advice?” Dazai huffs as a powerful breeze blows by, sending a flurry of fallen sakura petals into the field. One of the petals get stuck on top of Chuuya’s hair whorl, so Dazai has to do the reasonable thing and press on it again, right? “In exchange, you have to treat me to a dinner fit for an emperor!”
Chuuya shivers—something that Dazai feels against his fingertip. Then, he looks up at him, eyes bright.
“Okay,” he says, gentle in comparison to how he usually acts, to how ruthlessly he’s defeated his opposition, to how he’s always yelled at Dazai before about wanting to kill him.
Almost like he’s agreeing to something infinitely more important than a dinner.
Dazai feels something ache inside of him, so he lightly slaps Chuuya’s cheeks to get rid of the strange feeling. Then, he makes an exaggeratedly disgusted face upon finding sweat on his hands.
“Ew, go on and shower already, you wet dog.”
Chuuya twitches. “Who are you calling a wet dog, you, you mackerel!”
“At least a mackerel is delicious,” Dazai reasons.
“D-Delicious?!” Chuuya jumps away from him in embarrassment, his mind clearly jumping to the gutter with those words. “D-D-Die, shitty Dazai!”
“Right, right, you’re going to kill me with how much you stink.”
“Shut the hell up!”
Dazai finds himself laughing as Chuuya looks one second away from sniffing his own armpits as though to prove that he really doesn’t need a shower.
Dazai ends up coming back to his dorm later than usual, stomach hurting from all the laughing he’s done at Chuuya’s stupidity, as well as all the food they’ve bought from several food stalls. On his new mobile game, he’s already leading 3-2 against Chuuya’s account.
-
On the Friday of the Golden Week, Dazai’s languishing on his room. OdaSaku and Ango are off to some honeymoon-like trip that Dazai begged off joining—actually, Ango’s pretty much begged him to not go, because he’s prone to ruining Ango’s plans to create romantic settings.
Well, Dazai’s managed to get a pretty sweet compensation in return for it, even if truthfully, he’d really rather not join them for a number of reasons. They’re his best friends, but he’d really rather not listen to them sneak around to make out while he’s near them. Even if it’s fun teasing Ango about it.
Dazai’s phone pings.
[You free?]
Dazai huffs, imagining a blushing Chuuya on the other end. As though they haven’t been meeting up every day during the holidays, competing over the games at the local arcade, tricking Chuuya into paying for all of their food, window-shopping in the malls to hide away from the sudden bursts of rain.
Still, he knows that Chuuya’s in love with him, so he doesn’t want to give him too much hope.
[I can be if you treat me to something really expensive.]
There.
He needs to establish that he’s only ever agreeing to go with Chuuya over some equivalent exchange deal.
[You’re such a freeloader.]
…Chuuya-speak for ‘I would kill you for suggesting this, but I like you, so I’m letting this one go’.
Dazai rolls around his futon for a few more minutes, until he hears Chuuya’s knocks against his door. Before, Chuuya’s always pounded against his door so loudly, that Dazai’s genuinely suspected that his door could fly off the handle. Recently, even his knocks have grown to become so gentle that it’s sometimes hard to remind himself that Chuuya’s an idiot with muscle-for-brains.
Dazai makes sure that he yawns right into Chuuya’s face as soon as he trudges towards his doorway to let the chibi in. “Mou, Chuuya, I’ve been so busy, you know?”
Chuuya scrunches his nose as he surveys the surroundings. “What, languishing in your pigsty?”
With how close they are, it’s easy for Dazai to smell something sharp from Chuuya. “Why do you smell like medicine?”
Chuuya sighs. “Father woke up with the flu, so Dad called five doctors to check on him.”
Dazai shakes his head. “Randou-san can be quite overprotective, huh?”
“Overprotective is not even close,” Chuuya says with another sigh as he shoves Dazai by the shoulders towards the bathroom. “Go on and take a bath already, expensive restaurants will not allow an unwashed heathen to come in!”
By the time Dazai comes out of the shower, purposely wearing nothing but a towel to see Chuuya blush and try (and fail) to avert his eyes, his room already looks more organized than it’s ever been.
Chuuya’s rolled up his shirt sleeves up to his elbows, the band of white drawing attention to the wiry muscle that runs on his arms. His hat is resting on top of Dazai’s study desk, while he’s somehow managed to tie the longer parts of his hair to a messy bun, keeping it out of his face as he busies himself with clearing up the various things just strewn about haphazardly. His pants are also rolled up slightly so that his calves are exposed, pale and thin that it almost is strange to think of him as the school’s ace striker. His toes are bared, him having balled up his socks inside his shoes by the doorway. He’s clearly not wearing anything like an apron or a maid’s outfit, or even anything that looks casual enough that it looks like house clothes, but he looks so—
Dazai won’t stand for this.
So he resolutely drops his towel, and delights in hearing Chuuya’s high-pitched shrieks.
-
“I kept telling you to bring an umbrella!” Chuuya grouses for the sixth time in the past eight minutes.
Dazai knocks his body sideways against Chuuya, the two of them seeking shelter from the sudden burst of rain under an awning of one of the stores closed during the holidays. “Yeah, and I kept ignoring the barks of a dog.”
“You’re such an asshole,” Chuuya says it like he’s long realized it and made peace with it. “Why do I even bother with you?”
Because you love me, Dazai nearly says aloud. Because you love me so much, Chuuya.
In fact, his first reason for not wanting to tag along OdaSaku and Ango on their Golden Week vacation trip is because of today. 29th of April. Chuuya’s birthday. He’s pegged Chuuya to be the sentimental type, who’d want to confess during certain occasions. Chuuya’s never been the type to be secretive or manipulative, so a month of keeping silent about his feelings is probably his limit already. It wouldn’t be surprising if he’d confess with something like, I hope you can grant me this birthday wish.
Dazai’s been spending a few days thinking of how to respond.
It’s impossible for him to love Chuuya back. It’s impossible for them to be in a relationship, they’re too different. Right now, things are good between them, because Chuuya’s probably acting so that his best traits are highlighted. Like all humans who are in love, they display their best parts when they’re trying to get others to fall in love with them. Right now, things are smoothly progressing between them, because Dazai’s going along with the flow.
Because it’s fun, spending time teasing Chuuya.
Eventually, this spell of peace will fade.
Dazai will start thinking about leaving this world again, Chuuya will start being mad at him for his outlook in life again.
But, is there a way to keep things like this, forever?
If Chuuya doesn’t get a chance to confess, then Dazai doesn’t have to reject him.
And then, they can just exist like this.
“Don’t you have an umbrella of your own?” Dazai asks, knowing Chuuya is the type to always think of such things. He’s like Kunikida-sensei that way, with that sense of responsibility. It’s no wonder the two of them get along so well, with Chuuya always dropping by the faculty office to consult on math with him. It’s gotten to the point that Dazai’s so close to just offering to tutor Chuuya on the subject, just so Chuuya will not waste lunchtime with Kunikida-sensei, and instead just feed him.
“I have one, because I’m not a fucking idiot.” Chuuya says snidely. “You’re gonna get sick again, bastard.”
Harsh words pepper his speech, but it’s not enough to fully hide the honey-sweet sentiment.
…it’s really vexing.
“Then, let’s just share yours.”
As expected, Chuuya splutters at the suggestion. “S-S-Share an umbrella?! Isn’t that kind of—”
Sharing an umbrella in the rain evokes the feeling of being lovers. It’s practically tradition.
Dazai resolutely doesn’t look at Chuuya, who he can feel blushing so hotly beside him. “Or, is it that you’re worried that you’re too small compared to me?”
Chuuya snarls in rage and they squabble as they fight as to who’s going to hold the umbrella handle.
It ends up with both of them being partially drenched as they reach the ground floor of Dazai’s dorm, still squabbling and bickering.
There’s not a soul around, given that it’s still a holiday. It makes Dazai hyperaware of the fact that Chuuya’s shirt is drenched, looking nearly translucent as he practically drips while standing up. His curls are sticking close to his cheeks and neck, but instead of appearing like some downtrodden abandoned puppy, he’s more akin to a water nymph who has deigned to show himself to the mortal world.
Behind him, the sunset is a mix of deep oranges and crimsons, some stars already starting to twinkle. The rain has slowed down to a light drizzle, and there’s a faint band of rainbow in the distance. Springtime flowers are in full bloom, but Chuuya looks infinitely brighter and more beautiful than the burst of colors surrounding them.
Dazai’s grip on the umbrella handle slackens, nearly dropping it, upon that realization.
Chuuya doesn’t seem to notice it, as he faces Dazai, some sort of resolution burning in his eyes. Chuuya’s voice is soft, but it feels like it’s echoing inside him, as he says, “It’s my birthday today.”
He loves me. He loves me. He loves me.
That mantra sings in his veins, his fingertips electrified by lightning.
“I don’t have money to buy a gift for you,” Dazai manages to croak out, feeling like he’s going down with something worse than a flu, a fever made entirely of feelings threatening to burn him from the inside.
At those words, Chuuya barks a laugh. “Pfft, I know. I…”
“I can be generous,” Dazai ends up saying. “If you want to ask me for a favor instead.”
Chuuya looks surprised, that Dazai’s been able to predict his next course of action. Instead of anger at being found predictable, Chuuya seems relieved.
“…Then, I do want to ask for a favor.”
I think I can learn to love you, is on the tip of Dazai’s tongue.
Chuuya’s eyes are as bright as the stars, as he says, “Can you help me with confessing to Oda-san?”
The umbrella drops.
“W-What?” Dazai suddenly feels like he’s been sucker-punched. “OdaSaku?! You like OdaSaku?!”
Chuuya bites his lip, then nods.
Dazai thinks he’s going to have an aneurysm. His vision dims as he asks, voice broken, “Aren’t you in love with me?!”
Chuuya’s expression changes, but Dazai’s too dizzy to catalog it properly. With a solemn voice, Chuuya says, “We’re rivals, right? Don’t worry, I won’t fall in love with you, Dazai.”