Archive of Our Own ^beta

"A. Tsu. Shi. Kun!"

Atsushi yelped awake when something hard hit the back of his head. He looked around dazedly to find Dazai's smiling face hovering close to his own. Atsushi blew a breath that played with his friend's bangs and threw it to the side.

"...You're too close," Atsushi complained and pushed Dazai's face away.

He held both hands up and stretched. Dazai watched with amusement.

"How rare for you to sleep in class like this! That's more my thing than yours." He peered curiously into Atsushi's sleep-hazed eyes. "Not sleeping well lately?"

Atsushi shook his head.

"Not that I've noticed. I guess I dozed off waiting for you all this time." He returned Dazai's look, but not before giving his friend an once-over. He looked no different than usual, no new injury added to his scar ridden skin. "Club ran late today?" Atsushi mused.

"Hmm, something like that."

Dazai waited until Atsushi pushed away from his desk and got to his feet, then he offered a hand for Atsushi's bag, all smooth smiles that made Atsushi roll his eyes. He held his bag away for good measure.

"I couldn't leave in the middle of a match," Dazai explained as they left the classroom behind.

The sun outside had gone completely orange, painting the empty halls in its hue. Atsushi squinted at the light. Dazai joined his side, and his taller body created a shadow of safety for Atsushi.

"I'm a little scared of how intense you guys are about chess," Atsushi commented. Then, he stopped in the middle of the corridor, looked back to the closed doors of the classrooms. "Ah, did you get everything? It'd be troublesome if we had to walk back because you forgot something again."

Not nearly as worried as Atsushi, Dazai put his hands behind his back and kept walking, but not before waving dismissively at Atsushi.

"Just how scatterbrained do you think I am? Give me some credit." He swung his bag in a dangerous arc, almost hitting Atsushi squarely in the face when he resumed walking. "Everything is right here! Unless you wanna check for me? I'll let you rummage through my bag, but you'll have to bear the weight of any possible secrets you find in there…"

"It's your bag, not your diary, Dazai-san."

"Same thing, same thing."

Their chatter was only interrupted by the distant shouts of some of the sports clubs. Atsushi could see distant dots running around the track field. That's some dedication…

The sight reminded him of Dazai's own single-minded focus. "Were you in a match with that person again?" Atsushi asked.  "The foreigner, what was it…"

He snapped his fingers twice, willing the name to appear in his mind.

"3-A's Fyodor-kun."

"Right, that's the one," Atsushi mumbled.

"He's pretty good, but I'm determined to gain a win streak over him. He's trying to do the same. It's a matter of honor now."

It was rare to see Dazai be passionate about anything. He had a good head, so he mostly got away with paying little attention to class and studying the bare minimum. Even the chess club used to be nothing more than scheduled nap time, before Fyodor appeared.

How he managed to be so carefree with such a strict parent was beyond Atsushi.

Nevertheless, it was interesting to see Dazai so invested in something. Atsushi perked up with curiosity.

"Ohh. What's the current score?"

Dazai smiled sweetly. "We're tied on 187 wins each."

Atsushi couldn't even fathom playing chess that many times. "That's a little absurd," he decided.

Dazai's smile grew into a grin and he shrugged. It was the kind that said anything Atsushi added would be used against him, like that time he had somehow been roped into being the judge of some sort of debate between Dazai and Fyodor. Atsushi didn't quite understand what it was all about. Maybe a book? Though they made it sound a lot more complicated than just that.

Atsushi had dozed off towards the end, and promptly got himself a nice bump to the back of the head when their sudden shout of " What do you think, Atsushi-kun?! " had startled him into hitting the wall with the force of a small rocket.

The pair were eerily familiar, but Atsushi knew stating as much would get Daza to whine at him for at least an entire week.

"What about you?" Dazai asked. His eyes lingered on Atsushi's shoulder, where his guitar case was perched as usual. "I thought there was a rehearsal today."

"Well, we were rehearsing for a while, but it was going nowhere. Chuuya-san was in a bad mood, so the music was pretty out of sync."

They exchanged a meaningful look with each other.

"Must be tough to have such a grumpy band leader." Dazai patted his shoulder in sympathy. "I feel bad for you."

Atsushi grimaced.

"Don't let him hear that. He's already angry because they didn't let us do something for Christmas."

Chuuya had been going on about this plan for two months, even when the teachers only gave him a doubtful look whenever he brought it up. Atsushi had gotten into the habit of carefully smiling at Chuuya, all while he and Tanizaki shared a long-suffering look over Chuuya's head.

"What does a rock band have to do with Christmas to begin with?" Dazai pointed out.

Atsushi pointed at him. "That exactly. That's what I tried to say."

"How unreasonable."

"Yeah, something like that." Their footsteps echoed in the empty floors of the school entrance. They each looked for their shoe lockers, but Atsushi peered around the open door of his own to look at Dazai. "Oh, what are you doing for Christmas this year, Dazai-san?"

"Same as always," he mumbled. Dazai changed his shoes quickly, then shut his locker closed with a bang. He was smirking. "More importantly, Atsushi-kun. We're childhood friends, right? We're soul buddies, right?"

Atsushi raised an eyebrow.

"Uh, yes, I'm aware." He paused. "Of the first part at least."

"I'll let that comment slide. My point is! I've told you before to just call me Osamu." He wagged his finger in the air, each word punctuated by a wave and a pout. "Osamu! Try it."

"No," Atsushi said firmly. "That would be troublesome for me."

"How so?"

Atsushi didn't reply immediately. He slipped his own shoes on, put away his school shoes, closed his locker. Once he was done, he leaned back, and just happened to catch the eye of a girl he had only spoken to once. She startled, but didn't look away, nor did she giggle shyly (unlike her friends, currently circled around her), she simply stared with a level of scrutiny that made Atsushi uncomfortable.

Atsushi pointed discreetly and lowered his voice. "That. I wouldn't hear the end of it."

"Hmm." Dazai followed the line of his finger, somehow avoiding being caught looking. "Who's that again? The girl in the middle. She seems to be the one interested, I'd say the others are just supportive friends."

"Even though you're the one who met her…" Atsushi huffed. "She's in the drama club."

"Oh!" Dazai hit his fist to his open palm. "Is it about that time I helped them because one of the actors got hurt close to their play?"

"Yeah. She was one of the first years. I think she helped you with the lines."

And why did he know that more accurately than Dazai himself? Not for the first time, Atsushi realized his knowledge of Dazai's whereabouts and schedule was just a little bit abnormal. Maybe it came with being best friends.

"Uh huh, there was something like that," Dazai agreed in a vague tone Atsushi was willing to bet meant that Dazai didn't remember any of his conversations with that girl.

Atsushi dragged him by the arm so they would stop loitering around the entrance. He stopped again at the door, stuck out a hand to see how bad the snow was. He looked back at Dazai, who was unfazed by the conversation. Or rather, uncaring. Atsushi sighed.

"That attitude is exactly why it's always a first year."

Dazai tilted his head. He put up innocent airs and asked sweetly, "What do you mean by that, Atsushi-kun?"

"You have a pretty face and you're surprisingly athletic," he explained under his breath as he looked for his umbrella among the others. "They always think you're cool and collected. The prince type."

Dazai was smirking again, more with his eyes rather than his lips. Atsushi suddenly felt like putting his hands to Dazai's eyes, keep them hidden away so Atsushi wouldn't have to look.

"I have a pretty face?" Dazai asked.

"Yes, that's what I said."

"I just wanted to confirm it."

"Anyway, your personality doesn't hold up to that image."

Dazai held a hand to his chest. "No way! I am cool and collected like a fairytale prince. I'm hurt you'd say otherwise."

Atsushi watched as Dazai rummaged through the umbrella back as well, then did the same to his bag. He turned everything around as a small frown appeared on his forehead.

"I've had to fetch you from a river because you thought jumping in would be a funny prank and you forgot you don't know how to swim."

"Good point."

"You're still my best friend, so it's not like you're an awful person. You just don't live up to their ideal of you."

Atsushi took pity on him and finally opened his own umbrella, already safely retrieved into his own hands. It made a bit of a sound as it spread, and Dazai paused to look at it, just as Atsushi positioned the yellow umbrella over his head. Dazai stared for longer than was strictly necessary.

"What?" Dazai asked.

"It's snowing," Atsushi deadpanned. However, he quickly elaborated, "I doubt you brought an umbrella, you never do. Even though I keep telling you you'll catch a cold at this rate."

Atsushi stepped under the umbrella himself and, without having to be told, Dazai took it from his willing hand so it could be held higher over them both.

"That's what I've got you around for," Dazai said.

Atsushi knocked his shoulder in retaliation, too gentle to be considered anything but a fond gesture. Dazai briefly stumbled to the side while laughing. Atsushi watched him, and smiled himself; this was fine. That was how Dazai should look. Any traces of his practiced smiles were gone.

Atsushi shoved his hands into his pocket with a sense of satisfaction. The silence was a kind blanket draped over them, their footsteps once again echoed, this time muffled by the thin cover of snow on the ground. It was cold, but not too much. The half gray, half clear sky was a strange visage, and the last lights of sunset reflected on one side of Dazai's face, turned his usually dark eyes into a fiery orange.

Dazai faltered for a moment, and Atsushi could see in his expression the moment he realized he was being stared at. First, his eyebrows furrowed, his lips pursed just a bit. His eyes glanced to the side, only to find Atsushi blatantly turned towards him. Dazai blinked.

"Is there something on my face?" Dazai whispered, amused.

"Just the usual."

Dazai hummed, and they remained locked in the strange, impromptu stare-down. Somewhere, Atsushi's foot snagged on a raised portion of the sidewalk, or maybe it was a crack that made him stumble. Either way, Atsushi squeaked as he struggled to keep his balance, and flushed in embarrassment as Dazai clutched his arm and laughed at his face of utter terror.

"Say, Atsushi-kun," Dazai started.

Atsushi continued to brush imaginary snow from his uniform, not yet ready to face. "Hm?"

"You're always talking about me, but don't you have any yourself?"

Atsushi startled. He stopped and frowned. 

"Admirers, I mean."

"What's with that all of a sudden?" Atsushi threw back in exasperation.

"You're nice, you're always helping everyone. Even that thing with the drama club, I only did it because you asked me to give them a hand." Dazai raised his hand and counted on his fingers. When it seemed like Atsushi was about to protest, he added a third finger. "You're an attentive person, and sensitive to the feelings of others."

"Would you stop right there?" Atsushi begged. He could feel his face burn, and was tempted to cover it with his hands. "This is embarrassing."

"My point is!" Dazai barrelled on. He pressed an insistent finger to Atsushi's cheek. "You should be popular. Are there really no girls interested in you? Or boys?"

Atsushi didn't dignify that with an answer. He resolutely looked forward, contemplating if he should steal the umbrella from Dazai as punishment. The thought was short-lived. Atsushi sighed to himself as he remembered he'd only feel bad and end up apologizing for at least a week to make up for pulling a stunt like that. Then, Dazai would take advantage of his remorse to ask for favor after favor—and Atsushi was already bad at refusing those unless they were truly impossible to do.

(Like that one time Dazai tried to convince him to sing an honestly obscene song for their Cultural Festival show.

"It would be the perfect prank to pull on Chuuya, I'm begging you, Atsushi-kun!", he had said.)

Atsushi leveled Dazai with a skeptical look, which didn't do much to sway him.

"So?" Dazai egged on. He was leaning uncomfortably close now. "Do you or do you not have an admirer? Hmm?"

Atsushi leaned the opposite way. His back was starting to ache, and there was sweat at his temples as Dazai continued to pin him with his unshakeable stare.

"Not that I've noticed!" Atsushi shouted on impulse. "Besides, what does it matter?"

"'What does it matter', he says. Sheesh." Dazai finally relented. He casually walked with an eye closed, the other still fixed on Atsushi's face. "What matters is that you could pursue some of those people. Why don't you?"

"First of all, these are hypothetical people. We don't even know if they exist," Atsushi argued.

"They do!"

" Second , I'm not interested in that kind of thing. I already have other things to do."

Even if Dazai wasn't exactly wrong about him, it wasn't exactly something to be proud of. He had been called naive a number of times, and exploited for his faith in others just as often. Not everyone saw those traits, much less liked him for it.

Besides… Dazai himself knew it all already. Why would he want a complete stranger to understand that, as well?

"I already spend most of my time with you, don't I?" Atsushi reminded him.

"Well, yes—"

"That's how I want to spend my time. I don't want it to change."

"Hm…"

The silence this time wasn't comforting. There was something guarded lurking in Dazai's eyes. Atsushi resisted the urge to pry.

"Were you intending to play matchmaker for me?" Atsushi asked mildly.

"Who knows," Dazai replied.

"You're so weird, Dazai-san."

Dazai smirked at him. "Only sometimes."

*

Atsushi strummed at a chord. It made a subtle dissonant noise. He rotated the corresponding peg and tried again. Across from him, Dazai sighed as Atsushi repeated the process. Atsushi didn't look up, but put on his best cynical expression.

"Don't you have anything to do?"Atsushi asked.

Dazai carefully put a crease on the paper he was handling with precise fingers. He was at his fourth paper crane.

"Not really."

Right, otherwise you wouldn't be here, sighing every time I fail to do something interesting. Atsushi could feel the corner of his right eye twitch.

"You're carefree as always," he commented, dripping with sarcasm. "I thought the teachers were having you do more assignments as punishment for sleeping in class?"

Dazai stopped to give him a peace sign. "That's why I'm hiding in here. Who would do any work during recess to begin with, as if..."

"You don't do your work in general…"

"It's not like they can actually complain," his smirk was smug and confident, "since I still get good grades."

Suddenly, Atsushi felt the need to break his very expensive guitar on the back of Dazai's head.

"Yeah, okay Mr. Best Of His Class," Atsushi grumbled.

"What can I say, I'm what they call a genius."

"I can't exactly deny that."

"See?"

Atsushi tested all the chords at once in a quick strum. The sound was clear, even if not as nice as when hooked to the amplifier, but at least it was tuned correctly now.

He reached for his guitar and set his fingers for the melody Tanizaki had suggested for the new song. He mumbled made up lyrics as he went, testing out words, correcting the position of his fingers whenever he got the melody wrong. On a particularly tricky part, he swore in frustration, and tried again for the fifth time. He heard Dazai chuckle.

"Why are you working so hard on that song?" Dazai asked. "I thought you weren't doing the whole Christmas concert thing."

"We aren't," he nodded. "But Chuuya-san let me write a new song this time."

As much as Dazai claimed Chuuya was an "annoying, self-centered little bastard", it had been Chuuya himself that insisted it would do Atsushi some good to start getting more involved in the composing process as well, starting with the lyrics. 

Tanizaki had a genuine smile on his lips when he nodded his agreement, saying it would also "help him with his feelings". Atsushi wasn't sure what he meant. As he continued to mumble possible ideas, he realized he was afraid to find out what Tanizaki was implying by that.

"Ooh. What's it about?" Dazai prodded. He was leaning on his elbows, crane forgotten.

Atsushi wondered what Dazai would say, if Atsushi admitted to writing about him. Probably something narcissistic, a dismissive joke dancing on the tip of his tongue. Atsushi couldn't think of a worse outcome than that.

"It remains to be seen," Atsushi settled on. 

"You don't even know that much?"

He looked away. "Something like that."

"How careless."

"You're the last person I want to hear that from."

He thought that was the end of it. Instead, as Atsushi continued working, he felt his focus waning. The piercing gaze that was unique to Dazai prickled at his skin without a need for him to confirm that he was being looked at. Unnerved, Atsushi raised his head.

"What?"

Dazai's mouth was drawn in a straight, tense line. He moved around his seat, shuffled forward; he was almost entirely out of his seat, and his stomach pressed against the table between them as Dazai reached a hand towards Atsushi. Atsushi looked at that hand and felt his heart accelerate for no discernible reason.

"If you're looking for something to sing about…" Dazai's eyes became something warm, but distant all the same. Cautious. "How about—"

"Excuse me…"

Both of them startled; Atsushi flung himself backwards and almost fell out of his chair, while Dazai froze in place.

They turned their heads in unison. Out of the corner of his eyes, Atsushi could see Dazai slowly drop his hand back to his side. Surprisingly, he caught a flash of anger hanging about Dazai's expression.

"Sorry," the boy at the door said, sounding genuine about it. "Have you guys seen Chuuya?"

Atsushi recognized him as one of their classmates.

"He hasn't come here," Atsushi replied, if a bit dazedly. "Maybe he's in class still?"

The boy shook his head. "I've checked, he wasn't there. Do you have any idea where I could find him?"

"If we're lucky, he dropped off the face of the earth," Dazai deadpanned. Though his words weren't unusual, given that the subject was Chuuya, his tone was particularly cutting. His classmate shuffled uneasily.

"And if you're lucky, he won't find out you said that and dropkick you," Atsushi shot back with practiced ease.

He tried to catch Dazai's eyes, silently ask if he was okay, but Dazai was already back to his paper crane, head downturned to both the other boys.

"You wouldn't tell him," Dazai sniffed.

"I'll think about it." Atsushi watched him for another moment, observing the path of Dazai's fingers on the paper. "Ah, you've got that step wrong…"

Atsushi stretched to put his hand over Dazai's and halt his movements, before he ended up ruining the origami completely.

"Oh, really?"

"Yeah, you're folding the wrong end." Atsushi redictered Dazai's hand and turned the paper for him. "I went through the trouble of teaching you how to make these, pay more attention to what you're doing," he teased.

Dazai winked. "I've been told I'm a terrible student."

There was an awkward cough. Atsushi remembered there was another person in the room and laughed without humor for getting distracted. He lingered close to Dazai for a bit longer before falling back on his seat.

"You two sure are close," the boy commented. He was looking between the two of them with a raised eyebrow.

"Sorry," Atsushi said, not as apologetic as he should. Seeing the boy open his mouth again, Atsushi hurried to add, "Chuuya-san hangs out around the vending machines, maybe you'll find him there."

Whatever the boy was about to say, he shook his head as he gave up on it. 

"Got it, thanks."

He waved to the two of them as he left, and Atsushi let out a relieved sigh. Dazai had stopped pretending to focus on his paper crane and was looking at Atsushi again, his face propped on his palm.

"Are we close?" Dazai asked.

Atsushi couldn't help the incredulous laugh that escaped him. He struggled to catch his breath in between his own bafflement.

"We're best friends... and we've known each other since we were five," Atsushi managed to say.

"Is that a yes?" Dazai prodded.

"What do you think?" Atsushi teased.

All he got was a noncommittal shrug and a vague noise that Atsushi couldn't determine if it meant something positive or not. Seeing Dazai retreat back to his mostly finished crane, all traces of humor disappeared from Atsushi.

"You're acting weird lately," Atsushi mused out loud. Dazai didn't react. "Of course we're close."

More silence.

Atsushi sighed. He gave up on his song, at least for now, and walked to the other side of the table. Seeing as there were no chairs next to Dazai, Atsushi crouched instead, trying to get a better look of Dazai's face.

That was enough to make Dazai snort. He peered down Atsushi.

"What are you doing down there?"

"Did something happen?" Atsushi immediately retorted.

Dazai rolled his eyes and muttered something about Atsushi being a "worrywart". Well, yeah, but only because Dazai gave him plenty of reasons to worry.

"Not really," Dazai replied. "Just thinking about something."

Atsushi knew from experience that Dazai had a tendency to get caught in his own head, rolling around ideas until they were well past rotten, all while staying resolutely quiet about it. It was, in Atsushi's opinion, his most frustrating trait, as well as the most concerning. Their friendship had long become a tug of war, a constant push and pull where they both prodded at each other until something gave.

"Tell me what's going on sometime."

Push.

"Sure, I will."

Atsushi had a hard time believing Dazai even bothered to make that sound convincing. He scrambled to find something to say so the conversation wouldn't die on such an abrupt end.

"Ah, right!" Atsushi snapped his finger and lighted up like a lightbulb. "What were you about to say before about the song?"

Push.

"Nothing. I forgot."

Atsushi deflated.

"Alright."

Pull.

*

For the past three days, Atsushi had the feeling that something had been put in motion without his knowledge. If nothing else was good enough evidence, Dazai himself was. If he had been cryptic the other day in the clubroom, he had fully retreated into whatever was bothering him, getting quieter with each of their interactions. The silence that had been a comfort between them was now a knife lodged into Atsushi's side.

As they walked side by side towards the school gate that day, the dread grew as he saw Drama Club Girl waiting for someone outside. More specifically, waiting for them. Except, when she raised her head, she looked at Atsushi rather than Dazai. Atsushi took a step back on instinct.

"Hello, Nakajima-san," she greeted evenly. "Or would you prefer senpai ?"

"Ah, no, uhm. Nakajima-san is fine…"

"Great. I need to talk to you." Her eyes fleeted towards Dazai, but it was a quick motion. "Alone."

"Hooh, isn't that great?" Dazai whistled lowly.

Atsushi looked up at him in apprehension, but Dazai was preoccupied smiling with too much teeth and pretending his eyes weren't narrowed at this girl.

Forget in motion, things are straight up crashing.

"Well, actually, I was in the middle of…" Atsushi glanced at Dazai again."I had something else to do—"

"I won't take up much of your time," Drama Club Girl promised.

"Haha, is that so…"

Atsushi wringed his hands together. There was something happening here, but Atsushi was once again in the dark about it, so there was little he could do defuse the situation. Just as Atsushi managed to wrangle a half-coherent excuse to refuse after all, Dazai shoved him forward gently.

"You shouldn't refuse a lady's invitation, Atsushi-kun," Dazai said.

"But—!"

"We walk together everyday anyways, there's always tomorrow." He inclined his head, smiled sweetly. He still didn't look at Atsushi. "Right?"

Drama Club Girl faltered, for a moment. But she quickly smoothed out the frown that slipped into her expression. She nodded in acknowledgement as Dazai walked away with a wave.

Atsushi watched his retreating back.

"I'll text you later!" Atsushi yelled.

Dazai tipped his head back and winked playfully. Atsushi smiled, relieved.

"Nakajima-san."

Atsushi whirled around. This girl had kind of an imposing presence that put him on edge. Atsushi looked at her, thought of Fyodor, then Chuuya, and Atsushi wondered why Dazai kept attracting people like this—and what that said about himself.

"Y-Yes?"

"Let's not waste time, then." She lowered her gaze for a moment. If she was nervous, that was the only sign she let show. "Are you and Dazai-senpai dating?"

"What— No, we aren't, but—"

"Then it is okay to ask him out?"

Atsushi nodded numbly.

"That's good to know. I'm sorry I made you stand here just to ask you that.

He didn't find the words to speak. He thought he might have announced his leave. Atsushi wasn't sure.

Not only were things crashing, Atsushi decided they were going up in flames.

*

me: 

> are you up already?

> don't be late or I'll drag you out of bed

Atsushi watched his phone where he left it on the sink as he brushed his teeth. The number on the clock changed. There was no response. 

me:

> dazai-san?

Maybe he had overslept again, Atsushi conceded. There was no reason to think a deeper reason existed. Or at least, that was what Atsushi told himself.

His text from last night had also gone unanswered. With a knot in the pit of his stomach, Atsushi locked his phone and decided to just leave for school. They walked to school together, after all, so it wasn't like it mattered if Dazai replied or not, since they'd see each other in a few minutes.

Atsushi was nervous the entire way, and angry at himself for it. He was really blowing things out of proportion.

When he arrived, Dazai was already waiting for him, leaning on the wall of his family's house. 

"I didn't expect you to be out of bed already," Atsushi joked weakly. "Didn't you see my text?"

"Oh, that."

Atsushi hoped he only imagined the flat tone of his voice.

"Sorry, Atsushi-kun, I was playing this game!" He turned his phone to Atsushi. It was open on what looked like some murder mystery visual novel. "I totally forgot to reply. So, forgive me?"

That was a pretty normal response. Atsushi wasn't comforted by it.

"Honestly, you… Let's go, I don't want to be late."

"But, Atsushi-kun, you're never late."

"Yeah, no thanks to you."

Dazai chuckled, and made no move to walk beside Atsushi. He was exactly five steps behind at all times, like he was keeping count. Atsushi slowed down to wait for him, but Dazai simply came to a stop as well. Dazai raised his eyebrows.

"...Are you doing this on purpose?"

"What do you mean?"

Atsushi threw his hands up and continued walking. He would get nowhere with Dazai at this rate. He needed something to corner him with. Evidence that couldn't be denied. Atsushi got nothing, not even a single clue as to what was causing Dazai's mood.

It was embarrassing how clueless he was about his own best friend. Atsushi clenched his fingers on the straps of his school bag. Unlike other times, when Dazai would become reserved in a way that was out of character for him due to circumstances that were out of Atsushi's control, this seemed to be tied directly to him. Dazai asking if they were close was the very first sign that something had gone wrong.

To his mounting frustration, he had no idea where to begin to fix it, and Dazai wasn't helping matters in the least by remaining quiet.

He spent the rest of the day in a daze. He was so preoccupied with what was going on with Dazai, Atsushi barely listened to any of his classes. By the time recess came, he practically sprinted to Dazai's classroom, only to find out he had gone off to nap on the roof. Any other time, Atsushi would've stalked after him and annoyed him into eating something before allowing Dazai to return to his nap.

Today, though…

Atsushi went back to his own classroom with his head hanging low. He ate slowly, without really tasting the food he was swallowing.

On an impulse, he reached for his notebook and tore a page out. Atsushi cut the page into a square and started folding it. Atsushi didn't remember every detail of his childhood, but this was clear as day: a young Dazai throwing a tantrum because his craft projects never came out how he wanted them, and an indulgent Atsushi teaching him how to make a paper crane. To this day, it was the only kind of origami Dazai was able to make, but he seemed content with just the one.

The crane came out just a little wonky, but Atsushi deemed it good enough. It had its own charm. 

Atsushi left the crane on Dazai's desk.

They didn't see each other until later, when Atsushi was just packing up in the clubroom. Dazai was hanging outside with his back to the corridor window. Atsushi didn't spot him right away, but Tanizaki nudged him and pointed at the door.

"The dog came for his owner," Chuuya scoffed.

Atsushi grimaced. "Did you just call me his owner?"

"You got a problem with that?" Chuuya challenged.

"A lot of problems, actually." Atsushi sling his guitar case over his shoulder. "If anything, I'm the one always being dragged around to start with."

"As if." Chuuya chewed on the end of the pen he had been using to jot down ideas as they cycled through them. "He's the one who's always following after you like a lost puppy, you're really dumb if you haven't realized that yourself."

"You're wrong—"

"Am I?"

It hit Atsushi suddenly, as it always did—the knowledge that there was a portion of Dazai's life that Chuuya knew and he didn't. Dazai and Atsushi hadn't gone to the same middle school, but Chuuya did. During that time, the two developed their weird rivalry friendship thing they had going on, despite being at odds since they were kids. At the end, Atsushi hadn't seen much of Dazai in those years.

On the rare times that Chuuya spoke about Dazai, Atsushi got the impression that he knew something that Atsushi didn't. It was unnerving.

"Seriously, if you gave an order, he'd scramble to follow it. Sit boy, things like that," Chuuya grumbled with a frown.

"You haven't seen me try to convince him to do anything, then," Atsushi replied, sharper than he intended. 

He hastily left the room and hoped the two redheads didn't notice his ears were red.

"Did Chuuya get on your nerves this time?" Dazai asked as soon as he saw Atsushi. "Things are pretty bad if he's been getting to you now."

"I'm not as patient as you seem to think I am," he snapped.

"Clearly."

Atsushi deflated all at once. His ears burned worse with the shame. He mumbled a tired apology and gestured for Dazai to move.

"You look tense," Dazai commented. "Is it really just because of Chuuya?"

Atsushi noticed Dazai fidgeting and glanced at his hands, only now noticing that Dazai was spinning a paper crane by the tail in between his fingers. Atsushi recognized the wonky beak and the lines of his notebook. So he got it after all.

Transfixed by that, Atsushi said, "No, it's mainly because of you."

The crane stopped spinning. Dazai stiffened.

"Me? Why?"

Atsushi averted his eyes. The sky behind Dazai briefly blinded him. The light was a lot more bearable than facing his childhood friend. "It's... nothing. Nevermind."

Dazai was relentless; he shifted slightly so their gazes met again. Dazai’s eyes were infinitely dark, and for one rare moment, they took him in with a glint of cruelty.

"Do you have a problem with me, Atsushi-kun?" Dazai asked.

"No?” Atsushi couldn’t do much more than be overtaken by bafflement. Anger fought to rise to the surface as well. “I don't like the way you phrased that…"

"We all learn to live with things we dislike, don't we?" 

"What… What does that have to do with this?” He didn’t like the wavering in his own voice. “Are you implying I should just stay quiet and take whatever you say?"

The harshness that Atsushi wielded as a weapon was a knife that cut open the thin layer of cynicism that Dazai had tried to throw his way. It was enough to snap Dazai out of his daze, and his mouth opened in a soft circumference. 

"Not really, but I see how you came to that conclusion,” he reflected more than spoke. “It's kinda cute how oblivious you can be, Atsushi-kun."

Atsushi balled his fists. This was bad. He felt himself spiral out of control. Before he could reign in his temper, Atsushi was already shouting, "Then just tell me what you mean! What are you trying to say?!"

A beat. Then a second, then a third.

"What I'm trying to…” Daai thought for a long moment. Then, he suggested in the voice of someone announcing the weather, “Well, how about this, let's not meet up for Christmas this year. Not before, and not after."

"Why?"

"It doesn't matter why—"

"It does. Why?"

It was their tradition to meet on the 24th before night fell, when they would exchange gifts while strolling through the city before they had to return to their respective families. The next day, they would meet up again and talk about their Christmas Eve. It was a tradition started the time Dazai had screamed himself hoarse because he wanted to see Atsushi on Christmas, and the two of them never bothered to break it.

Until now. That Dazai would imply his decision wasn’t anything of importance only made his blood boil.

"...I don't want to talk about it right now," Dazai whispered.

"When will you talk about it?" Atsushi prodded.

"I don't know."

"Is it really that bad?"

Dazai put his hands on the windowsill and leaned back on them. His head was tilted at an angle, and for the first time during this conversation a smile appeared on his lips. Though, a grimace was a more accurate word. It looked like it had been ripped out of him and left him aching down to the bones.

"I don't know. I'm sorry."

*

me:

> it's fine you know?

> I won't apologize, I don't think I was wrong but…

> i was too harsh

> I miss talking to you

Atsushi was sure the single check mark was seared into his eyes. Whenever he blinked, the image of it swam in his vision. His phone remained unlocked, open on the messaging app. Dazai didn't look at his text this time. Atsushi felt pathetic, slumped over his desk and staring blankly at the sheet of paper looking back at him. Loud music blasted in his headphones, but he didn't have enough presence of mind to register it.

He tapped on the desk, though it did little to dispel the energy bubbling under his skin. He glanced at his phone again. No changes. Atsushi held his breath for thirty seconds; then he exhaled like a spluttering balloon. He still didn't feel any better.

Chuuya's bass and Tanizaki's drum continued to render him almost deaf. He couldn't tell anymore if the ringing in his ears was because of the music or something else. His thoughts ricocheted back and forth between his unfinished lyrics and Dazai. Atsushi was especially fixated on the look of desolate pain that Dazai had worn on his face… Or maybe more like it slipped out of him, a cold light that made it through the cracks.

Atsushi continued to collect questions that went unanswered, and the Dazai in his memory was no longer smiling, though Atsushi was sure he had been during the actual event.

He went cross-eyed as he wrote too close to the paper, but Atsushi didn't change positions. Even when his back ached just as much as his wrist, worn by the repetitive motions of scribble, scribble, erase, scribble.

At two in the morning, when Atsushi shot the band group chat a text to inform them the lyrics were done, he wondered if this was what Tanizaki had meant before. Though, Atsushi didn't feel particularly better as he climbed into bed with burning eyes—at most, he had to admit that there was some catharsis to it.

"Let me sing today," Atsushi requested as soon as he entered the clubroom the next day. He hadn't even greeted his bandmates. Chuuya and Tanizaki were staring at him like he had just grown a third head. "...Please."

"I mean, if you feel ready to sing," Tanizaki started, and waited for Atsushi's nod before adding anything else. He looked sympathetic. "I think it'd do you some good, but…"

Tanizaki looked back at Chuuya, who in turn was frowning at Atsushi. Atsushi and Tanizaki waited with bated breath, until Chuuya clicked his tongue with annoyance.

"Stop it with the puppy eyes!" Chuuya yelled. "I was the one who put you up for lyrics duty this time, wasn't I? It's fine, so hurry up and get ready."

Atsushi grabbed his guitar case and bowed his head in Chuuya's direction.

"Yes, sir," Atsushi agreed with a grin.

They did a quick test of their equipment. Luckily, there was no one else in the music room that day, so they could go all out without interrupting the other members of the club. Atsushi had counted on that happening.

It was easy to slip into the same headspace he had been into when he wrote the lyrics last night. Atsushi wasn't out of it to begin with. He settled into the song with ease.

Perhaps too much ease, because Atsushi's mind went all too empty as the music started. He knew the words by heart, and he didn't have to think of them at all. He began wandering through his thoughts again.

Could he sing this in front of Dazai? Not to the one who laughed with Atsushi over some silly joke, who spent minutes out in the cold because he wanted to eat a snowflake, or the one who shined quietly but brightly right beside him with a glow that Dazai rarely let anyone else see.

That side of Dazai was disconcertingly easy to deal with. He was simpleminded and quick to please. He was the child in his kindergarten class who would hold any piece of gifted candy as a treasured prize.

Atsushi didn't know what to do with the Dazai who held himself back and kept his words under his tongue, only allowing Atsushi a glimpse of it every time he showed his teeth. 

He smiled self deprecatingly. At the end of the day, they were the same person, it was just Atsushi who never learned what to say to people who seemed to hide their intentions behind carefully picked words, or even what to expect of them. Atsushi wasn't used to this kind of discomfort around Dazai.

Atsushi hiccuped on a breath and stumbled over his next line. Was it his own fault? As soon as things took the slightest turn for the worse, he could feel himself crumble, piece by piece. All of his resolve faltered. Atsushi had no confidence in his skills to help others, even when he desperately wanted to.

Dazai had asked for his forgiveness, but it was Atsushi who wanted to take back his text and apologize to Dazai. For any of it. For all of it.

His fingers hurt when he pulled too harshly on a string. Though they had only been at it for two minutes or so, his throat was dry, almost hoarse. Atsushi felt himself slipping on his performance, but he sang until there was no more air in his lungs. By the time the song reached its end, Atsushi was shaking from head to toe.

The following silent was only cut by his own heavy breathing. Atsushi couldn't face his bandmates, not yet. He laughed to himself, low and wet.

"We did it," he whispered. "Though, we'll have to rehearse this one more. Sorry."

Tanizaki abandoned the drums to stand next to Atsushi and ruffle his hair kindly.

"You did great," Tanizaki reassured him.

"Thank you."

Before Atsushi could really enjoy the post-song high, Chuuya disconnected Atsushi's guitar from the amplifier and stood imperiously with his arms crossed. 

"You're both complete dumbasses," Chuuya declared.

Feeling lost, Atsushi glanced at Tanizaki, who shrugged. Chuuya rolled his eyes.

"You and Dazai, of course." He turned his head and clenched his jaw. "Just looking at you makes me angry."

It wasn't difficult to make Chuuya angry, was what Atsushi, of course, didn't say. He had good self preservation instincts, unlike Dazai.

"And that's why for today I am kicking you the hell out of the club!" Chuuya announced loudly.

Atsushi barely had the chance to blink before he was being pulled by the arm towards the door.

"Wha—"

Chuuya wasn't about to allow any kind of protests. His grip tightened dangerously. "Now."

"Maybe that's a little too harsh—" Tanizaki tried to intervene, but he went ignored by Chuuya, no matter how much Atsushi made pleading eyes at him.

Chuuya shoved him outside and Atsushi had to brace himself against the opposite wall as to not smash his head against the window.

"And don't come back until you've sorted out your own shit." He slammed the door shut.

Stunned, Atsushi stood on the same spot without moving. After a moment, the door opened again, but only so Chuuya could throw him his guitar case and school bag—the latter which hit him squarely in the face.

"Talk to Dazai," was Chuuya's last order before the door closed with another bang. 

Atsushi put his guitar away and, without any other choice, walked to the school entrance now that club time was apparently over for him only. Atushi sighed.

"He says talk to Dazai, as if I haven't been trying already," Atsushi mumbled moodily. "And failing."

As a practical joke, he found Dazai on the way, standing by his locker with his eyes closed. Atsushi's brain, which was already frazzled, suddenly took another hit and he could do little besides staring.

Dazai raised his head to see who had approached, and Atsushi saw his own shock mirrored in Dazai's surprised expression. Atsushi coughed into his fist.

"I didn't expect to see you here today," he commented lightly. Start with something safe.

Dazai, for his part, had no such reservations. "Miracles do happen sometimes," he replied sarcastically.

Atsushi had no idea what he meant. He was struck by old memories of when Dazai would speak strangely because he got into the habit of imitating the characters he read about in one of the books he liked so much. It made for many sentences that were barely coherent in context.

Atsushi had to repress the hysterical urge to laugh.

"Uhm, are you waiting for someone?" Atsushi asked, too fast. A bit hopeful. Oh, this was a disaster.

"I am." Dazai smiled and, almost as if he couldn't help himself, reached out to gently flick Atsushi on the forehead. "But, not for the person you're hoping for."

Atsushi flushed in shame. "Oh."

Dazai chuckled, but there was a surprising lack of malice or teasing in it. His hand moved like he was about to touch Atsushi again, though the contact never came.

Atsushi couldn't stand here without a plan of action. He had the strong feeling that not being careful would result in a much larger argument, and that was the one thing he wanted to avoid at all costs.

"I'll see you around?" Atsushi had wanted to be firm, but his voice wobbled and the sentence came out as a question. 

Dazai cocked his head, like an indulgent parent answering their child's silly questions. "Yeah, of course."

"Later, Dazai-san."

"Bye bye."

And that was it. Atsushi walked away as if he didn't have a billion different things swimming in his head that he just wanted to come outright and say it, without any thought, plans or hesitance.

There was one other surprise encounter waiting for him, this time with Drama Club Girl—coming into school rather than leaving—, Atsushi just bowed his head in greeting as response to her own gesture of acknowledgement.

He eventually arrived home and collapsed into bed still in his uniform, winter clothes strewn all about on the floor. Atsushi closed his eyes tiredly. The late time he went to bed the previous night was finally catching up to him, especially now that the adrenaline in his veins had lost its effectiveness. He began humming his song quietly as he drifted in and out of consciousness.

What had Dazai been doing at that time in school? Maybe he had been in one of his chess matches; Dazai and Fyodor were intense enough about their rivalry to do that. Though, it was a bit too early for him to be done with a match already…

He did say he was waiting for someone.

Atsushi sat up in bed slowly as the pieces came together. Drama Club Girl had just been getting back to school, not out. Atsushi couldn't really tell because of her coat, but he was sure she wasn't wearing her school uniform. The last time they talked, she had clearly expressed her intention to ask Dazai out.

He suddenly felt nauseous.

It was unreasonable to get so upset over it; it wasn't the first time a girl would confess to Dazai. It was not like it changed anything between them. Why did it bother him, this time?

Let's not meet up for Christmas this year. That was what Dazai had said, pained but firm. Atsushi chewed on his bottom lip. Maybe those two would spend Christmas Eve together, even though Dazai usually spent it with family.

Atsushi didn't want that.

His frustration and his anger all came pouring out after he had just put a lid on them earlier. Before he could rationalize with himself, Atsushi was already running out of the house in hastily worn shoes. The wind was biting cold on his skin, unprotected by coat or scarf, left behind on his bedroom floor. He didn't have the time to go back for it; Atsushi was sure that he would run out of time if he delayed even one more minute. For what, he didn't know.

Atsushi laughed in the crisp winter air as tears sprung to his eyes. What was he even doing, treating this like it was the end of the world. He just wanted to tell Dazai— He wanted to tell him—

His feet slid and his body fell right into an inviting pile of snow. Atsushi pulled himself out of it with a gasp. He didn't bother brushing the snow off his clothes as he staggered to his feet. Atsushi panted, only now realizing his lungs were burning.

"Get yourself together, Atsushi," he hissed. With two encouraging pats to his own cheeks, Atsushi resumed his sprint. He didn't realize he was holding his breath until he exhaled with relief when the school appeared in his field of vision.

He beelined for Dazai's classroom, holding on to the hope that he would still be there for whatever reason. Atsushi slid the door open with more force than necessary.

"Dazai—" The name echoed in the empty room. Atsushi leaned his upper body down on his knees as he struggled to breathe in properly. "Dazai-san," he completed for no good reason.

Maybe it was his useless stubbornness speaking, but Atsushi still perused the room, walked among the chairs in search of any sign that Dazai had been there recently. He didn't expect the sign to be in the form of Dazai's school bag hanging on the side hook of his chair. Atsushi gathered the bag into his arms and left, all while reaching for his phone.

me:

> you forgot your bag

The short message would have to do. Dazai usually carried his phone in his pocket rather than his bag, so Atsushi was confident he'd see it eventually. Too nervous to stay inside, Atsushi positioned himself in front of the school with his back to the brick wall. He only had to wait, and then…

And then what? Admittedly, Atsushi hadn't thought this far ahead—or rather, he didn't think of anything at all. He felt just a little stupid, but he wasn't giving up now.

Atsushi clutched Dazai's bag to himself as the cold seeped into his skin. Going out without his coat had to be the cherry on top of his stupidity cake. He rubbed his hands together and curled further into himself.

He must have dozed off for a moment, because Atsushi was suddenly brought back into consciousness by an appraising voice.

"I know you can be reckless, Atsushi-kun, but this is a new standard," Dazai commented. "I may yet be able to make a chronic rule breaker out of you."

Though the familiarity should be a balm on his restless mood, it had the opposite effect. Atsushi was being bounced back and forth to different emotions. He couldn't keep up with it anymore. He turned wet eyes on Dazai, and saw him flinch in surprise.

"Why are you crying?" Dazai asked. His bewilderment was clear, and his hands hovered close to Atsushi, unsure of how to proceed.

Atsushi sniffled loudly. "It's really cold," he replied.

“Yeah, I can see that,” Dazai muttered. Bad as he was with comforting others, he decided to ignore the tears, and wrap Atsushi in his own scarf, still warm from being pressed to his own skin until just a moment ago. 

Atsushi chased that warmth, not just the scarf's, but Dazai’s too. He took a step forward, and was immediately assaulted by a wave of vertigo. His vision went dark for a total of three seconds. It took him a moment to catch his bearings again, and found that Dazai was gripping his forearm in an attempt to keep Atsushi on his feet.

“I think I’m not feeling that good,” Atsushi mused.

Dazai snorted and, without a word, maneuvered Atsushi around so he was hoisted onto Dazai’s back. Atsushi meant to yell in indignation, but could only manage a weak whine.

“You’re such an idiot,” Dazai whispered.

“Not as much as you,” Atsushi shot back.

He closed his eyes to the vibrations of Dazai’s laugh, and the rocking rhythm of his footsteps. Maybe his exhaustion had been greater than he anticipated, because Atsushi woke up already in the small bed of the school infirmary. Dazai was quietly sitting by him while fiddling with something. It looked like a paperman with a keyring attached at the end, though nothing was hooked to it.

"That's a weird keychain," Atsushi said. 

Dazai smirked. There was sarcasm in it, though he kept the reason his own secret as the keychain was shoved back deep in his front pocket.

"It's more of a good luck charm," Dazai corrected.

Atsushi hummed and didn’t press the question. He shifted in the bed and tugged at the bed sheets. 

“It’s hot,” Atsushi complained.

He had barely moved the sheets to begin with, but Dazai pulled it further up Atsushi’s neck until it rested on his chin. Dazai was tutting at him like a particularly exasperated mother.

“Your temperature went down, that’s why. Keep yourself covered.” Dazai sat back and balanced perilously on the back legs of the chair. He watched Atsushi attentively. “I don’t even know how you managed that. Did you go diving into a snowbank or something? Your uniform is damp.”

Now that he pointed it out, Atsushi became aware of the discomfort of his clothes sticking to his skin wetly. His face went various shades of red at how close Dazai was to the truth. Dazai’s eyes widened.

“You actually did that?!” Dazai pointed an accusatory finger at him.

“No, I just fell!” Atsushi hurried to explain. He slid down into the covers as Dazai’s stare intensified. “On the way here. I tripped on the way here.”

“...And you did this for my sake?”

“Of course. Who else would I have done it for?”

Dazai let the chair fall back into its upright position. The legs of it screeched loudly. Dazai’s head was hanging low, and the shake of his shoulder could be anything between a laugh or a sudden bout of tears. Whatever it was, Dazai managed to compose himself into a blank expression once again. 

“Hey, Atsushi-kun," Dazai started. He wasn't looking directly at Atsushi, but watching him from the corner of his eyes.

“Yes?"

It was rare to see nervous signs on Dazai. The careful way that he brushed his hair behind his ear, then ruffled it back to the front, and repeated twice more was definitely one of those few quirks he had. Atsushi himself felt uneasy in response.

“What do you want from me?” Dazai asked in earnest.

Atsushi spluttered for half a second. “Excuse me?”

“I mean it. I’m not good at taking others into consideration, apparently," he said wryly. "I keep trying to guess it instead. I don’t think I’m doing all that great at it.”

The world suddenly turned upside-down; it was a surprising moment of openness, at least in the way it was presented. It was direct and straightforward, no mental circles to get through to even begin to understand the point Dazai wanted to make. There was a thrill to it, a bout of excitedness. Atsushi hoped for both their sakes that he wasn't grinning like a maniac. 

“Then, talk to me. That's what I want.”

Perhaps a bit too eagerly.

“Is that really all there is to it?” Dazai didn't sound all that believing.

Atsushi pushed himself up so he could sit and properly pin Dazai with a glare of his own.

“I would beg you for it if that’s what it took," he told him.

Dazai immediately raised his hands and shook his head.

“Okay, okay, I get it!" He pushed Atsushi back onto the pillow. "Sheesh. Go on, then.”

He waved for Atsushi to keep going. When he hesitated, Dazai mouthed a not-so-friendly “chop, chop.” Atsushi chewed on the inside of his cheek and mulled over this. He had been wishing for the moment when they got to talk for several days now, but once the opportunity presented itself, he didn’t know where to start. 

The worst of it all, the bitter core of the issue, was the sudden and swift interruption of their plans that Atsushi hadn’t comprehended why it happened at all. He needed an explanation first and foremost.

"Was this related to her?" Atsushi broached carefully.

"Her?"

"Drama Club Girl."

Dazai laughed. "Is that you've been calling her in your head?"

Atsushi fidgeted, aware of just how bad that sounded. Just because he had a catalogue of faces stored in his mind, it didn’t mean the same could be said about names.

"She never really introduced herself," Atsushi justified, “so it's not like I have anything else to call her…"

"I don't know her name either. I forgot,” Dazai announced cheerily.

Atsushi had a feeling the forgetfulness had been a deliberate choice.

"You're the worst," Atsushi accused.

"Just a little," Dazai agreed.

Dazai pondered on his next words. He tapped his index finger on his chin and made a show of humming to himself. 

“This had nothing to do with her.” he said finally. “For the most part. We’ve done this before, right? Break their hearts by being myself, never see them again, all that jazz. It was nothing more than that.”

Yeah, Atsushi was intimately aware of those occurrences. Not that Dazai made a point to talk about them—Dazai was always oddly protective of exposing Atsushi to what others thought of himself—, but it always became the talk of the class as the news traveled. They insisted Dazai was a lucky womanizer.

None of them got to witness the lethargic way with which Dazai acted after every single of those love confessions. Atsushi had often sat by his side on his bedroom floor with their shoulders pressed together, all while Atsushi talked of whatever came to mind, and Dazai listened with a strange, absentminded focus.

“Then why did you say that if you weren’t planning to go on a date?” Atsushi asked.

“‘That?’”

“About not meeting up for Christmas and stuff…”

Dazai seemed awkward when he smiled lopsided. “I thought you’d appreciate some space.”

Atsushi waited for him to add a “just kidding”, but it never came. He stared at Dazai some more, and only got a shrug in response.

“I didn’t say anything about wanting that, though,” Atsushi protested. If he had implied that at some point, Atsushi was sure he would’ve noticed by now.

“I have few friends, and the ones I do have, I cling to with smothering neediness. I will end up choking someone at this rate,” Dazai parroted in a voice that was not his own. There was even a slight accent thrown in.  “Or so I’ve been told.”

“Just curious, but is this the same person who said you have no consideration for others?”

“No, it was someone else. I’m popular like that,” he joked with a flip of his hair. “The one who said that made it very clear a few years ago.”

Ah, Atsushi was sure he knew who he was talking about, then. He couldn’t help but smile as well, despite the harsh nature of what had been said to Dazai. 

(Even if not untrue.)

“Was that second person’s comment who started it all? Your distance.” Atsushi said with understanding. Finally the picture was becoming whole, and Atsushi could get a sense of what was going on inside his head. The relief made him relax further into the mattress.

“Yeah, I suppose you’re right, it did,” Dazai agreed, like he only realized it just now. 

“You're really susceptible to what others say about you.” Atsushi smiled fondly. “You’re more sensitive than you’d like anyone to realize. Even me, I think.”

Dazai touched Atsushi's forehead then. It started as a way to check for his temperature, but progressed to Dazai patting his forehead and brushing his hair delicately. Atsushi allowed it for a minute, until the itch to reciprocate got too strong. Atsushi reached for Dazai’s hand and held it in his own. While his own grip was gentle, Dazai’s quickly became tight, too strong. Atsushi had no intention to let go.

Atsushi snuggled comfortably with his cheek against the pillow. Dazai chuckled.

"You look like a little baby," Dazai cooed.

"I love you. You know that, right?" Atsushi threw back without pause.

"Of course,” Dazai agreed just as easily. “You're my best friend after all."

"You're mine too."

Finally the ball of sludge that had been sticking to his ribs washed away. It was ironic how easy it was, after all the stupid drama they gotten themselves into. For just a moment, Atsushi considered confessing the song he had written, but decided to hold on to that secret for just a little longer.

At least Chuuya would be pleased they “sorted out their shit”. 

“What are we doing for Christmas, Dazai-san?” Atsushi echoed his own words.

Dazai perked up in realization, and was all too happy to play along.  “Hmm, how about we go to the park?”

Atsushi scrunched his nose. “That’s boring.”

“I’ll buy you cotton candy,” he offered in a sing-song. Amazing how Dazai still thought he could bribe Atsushi the same way he did back when they were kids.

“Ugh, okay, good enough. And the day after?”

“We’ll see.”

“So, the usual.”

“The usual.”

They grinned. Their hands tightened around each other a little bit, and there was no space left between their fingers.