Chapter Text
Pink was the color that mesmerized the little brown-haired boy with a delicate stature.
‘Osamu…Your father will be very angry if he finds you here.’ His mother giggled as she watched her child playing with her face powder and trying to apply it on his face.
Osamu grumbled ‘I want to be pretty like mother.’ The woman laughed at his naivety but the next moment the smile disappeared, and a frown etched on her wise face.
‘Osamu…You are a boy. You cannot be pretty like me.’ She tried to reason with him, knowing that such manner of thinking would only bring him misery.
The small brunet of five years, did not bother to listen to her as he applied the red liquid, his mother would put on her lips. He brushed his hair and squealed when he saw that he looked just like his mother.
‘Mother….I am as pretty as you.’ He jumped up and down with unbridled enthusiasm. His mother, a woman of angelic beauty, smiled at his happiness. It seemed her little boy had the power to drive away all her negative thoughts with his insurmountable optimism.
‘Of course, you are. My pretty Osamu.’ His mother pinched his cheeks and he pouted at her swatting away her hands.
‘Promise me…Osamu.’ She spoke with a rare serious tone and he stared at her in an unblinking manner. He knew that whenever his mother used that tone, he was supposed to listen to her.
‘That you will never give anyone the power to control you.Especially not your father. Do not make the same mistake I made.’ She said solemnly.
But her little son could not decipher the hidden meaning behind her words. He just cocked his head to his side ‘What do you mean, mother?’
‘What blasphemy is this?’
A thunderous voice boomed in the room sucking away all the happiness it offered. His mother had a terrified expression while Osamu cowered behind her.
‘What are you teaching my son, you uncultured harlot!’ The man of the house spoke with a glare as he stormed up to her.
‘I..was…We..were…just…having fun.’ She spoke with a quiver and Osamu’s eyes almost became moist in fear.
When a loud slap echoed in the room, Osamu let out a shriek of terror, even more, afraid of the man who was his father.
A red mark stood prominently on her mother’s face and her shoulders were hunched in a defeated posture.
‘I am taking my son away from you…Witch.’ He spoke with a mean expression as he roughly grabbed the arm of Osamu and dragged him away from the woman who had always loved him.
‘No….Mother….I want to stay with Mother!!’ The little boy shrieked trying to escape his clutches.
His father did not lessen his hold on his son, instead, he tightened it, almost hurting the poor confused boy.
The woman of the house felt a deep pang in her chest when she saw her son being taken away by the beast of a man. She grabbed his ankle and begged.
‘Please…Let him stay here….You will kill his spirit.’
The man just kicked her in her face and she fell on the floor as she watched her child being taken away from her, screaming and crying out for her.
‘Noo….Please…Give him back…Please!!’ The woman wailed as the door was shut on her face and locked from outside.
She began wailing miserably, cursing herself for being weak and vulnerable. She despised the society which fostered stringent rules on men and women and she desperately prayed to God, hoping that her son would be different.
She hoped he could stand up to the stoic and unfeeling man and be strong for himself.
Something she could never be.
………………..
Several years later
Grey was the color that haunted Dazai whenever he opened his eyes to face the monotonous and mundane world.
With a yawn, he stretched his arms above his hand and immediately stiffened when he heard his father’s cold voice.
‘Finally, you decided to wake up from your never-ending slumber. Must you always be so sluggish, Osamu?’
But I was exhausted.
The brunet fixed his rumpled clothing and quickly attuned himself to his surroundings. He was in a carriage and they were traveling to Yorkshire to meet with his father’s old friend, the Duke of Yorkshire.
‘Sorry Father. I was just..’
‘Spare me the excuses, boy. You are getting quite proficient in those. Not a noble trait in a Duke, I must admit.’
Dazai kept his head bowed and kept on listening to the reprimands of his Father. There was not anything else he could do, after all.
‘I want you to be on your best behavior in the Duke’s estate. Do not tarnish our family name, Osamu. We are already on thin ice because of that wretched woman.’
She was my mother…Your wife.
Dazai wanted to scream at him but refrained from doing anything so uncouth and unbecoming of a noble.
‘Besides…The Duke will be inviting his extended family and some members of the Royal Family to this fiesta. This will be a good opportunity for us.’
‘Wh-what do you mean?’ Dazai asked as he gripped his fingers on his cloak.
‘Do not be foolish boy.’ His father scolded him once again, ‘This will provide an excellent opportunity for you to mingle with others and find yourself a suitable bride.’
So that you can ruin her life just like you ruined the life of my mother.
Dazai felt like someone had submerged him in cold water. This wasn’t what his father had said to him, the day they left for Yorkshire. His palms started to sweat when he thought about interacting with a new person and now his father desired him to woo a woman.
Did his dear father wish to kill him?
Yet, the brunet did not voice his distaste regarding the topic of wooing a lady. He just nodded his head in humble acceptance.
He did not have the strength in him to go against his father. At the end of the day, he was a pitiful and worthless coward.
It was then that the carriage halted signifying that they had reached their destination.
The footman opened the gate and his father moved out after directing a warning glance at Dazai.
The brunet heard rambunctious voices coming from outside and he felt his entire body become taut with fear.
Too many people…Too many.
‘Your Grace…You should step out.’ The soothing calm voice of Odasaku made him take a deep breath. His faithful servant gave him a considerate smile.
‘How many people Odasaku?’ He asked as he gathered his bearings.
The auburn-haired man turned his head and did a mental count.
‘About seven or more.’
‘Osamu...’ Odasaku whispered as he placed a comforting hand on Dazai’s knee. ‘Breathe in. Breathe out.’ He said.
Dazai nodded his head before following Oda’s instructions. After few moments, he felt the panic and anxiety recede within him.
‘I am ready.’ He said in a weak voice and Odasaku smiled.
‘You will be alright.’ Odasaku gave a warm smile and Dazai thanked his lucky stars for having someone as understanding as him as a servant…..friend.
Dazai followed him out of the carriage and his feet trembled as he climbed down the steps of the carriage.
Don’t fall..Don’ trip…Be perfect
He whispered to himself.
As he stepped out of the carriage his eyes wandered over to his father who was sharing a cordial handshake with a rotund figured man. He had a rather large mustache on his face but something was hiding beneath the genial surface of the man.
Something that Dazai could not identify.
As he walked further into the estate, the sound of giggling wafted in the air and his attention switched to a few women who were seated on a large swing that had been placed in quite a vibrant garden. All of them were dressed in dresses of high quality and if Dazai had to guess, one of the women was wearing a cloak made of Indian silk.
All of them were smiling at him, but Dazai strangely thought they were seizing him up as if he was a new piece of meat in the auction. The thought made him shiver in fright and he was too intimidated by their presence to approach them to court them.
When one of the women, a fairly young maiden with tresses of gold winked at him, he wanted to rush back inside the comfort of his carriage.
‘Ah! Don’t mind the ladies. I promise they are not that harmful.’ An amiable voice spoke from behind him and he turned around to find the source.
It was a man with quite long black hair that had been tied into a neat ponytail. He was dressed in a heavy grey fur coat and thick boots.
He waved at the ladies and unlike Dazai, he did not crumble into himself. Immediately the brunet felt self-conscious and ashamed of himself.
He was always such a disappointment.
‘I must confess I am not quite great when it comes to dealing with women.’ Dazai confessed truthfully.
‘Oh! Well, I can teach you everything you need to know. Lord Arthur Rimbaud, Duke of Wisconsin. Pleased to meet you…’
‘Lord Osamu Dazai, the son of the Duke of Westminster.’ Dazai shook his hands with the well-mannered man.
‘Oh!! Isn’t that your father, Lord Dazai?’ He asked as he pointed at his father who was engaged in quite a serious conversation with that same rotund figured man.
Dazai nodded his head at Verlaine.
‘That is the Duke of Yorkshire…Our host.’
‘Oh.’ Dazai said softly. He was quite embarrassed because he had did not even know how their host looked like.
Only if Father ever allowed me out of the house…
‘He appears to be quite chummy with the Duke of Yorkshire.’ Quipped Rimbaud.
‘Yes. Apparently, they went to the same school as children.’ Dazai spoke as they started walking towards the palatial mansion.
‘Ah! I truly miss my school days.’ Rimbaud said with a wistful smile.
‘Which school did you go to?’ Dazai’s mood dampened slightly.
‘I was homeschooled.’ He shifted away from the inquisitive eyes of Rimbaud. ‘Oh!’ Was the faint reply.
To distract himself from the uncomfortable conversation Dazai tried to take in his surroundings and he was pleasantly surprised. The manor of the Duke was basking in a golden glow while sprawling across a large area.
However, the thing that caught his attention was the fountain in the middle of the exquisite garden. A marble statue of a fallen angel stood in the middle of the fountain and the water seemed to form a protective barrier around it.
For some reason Dazai found himself developing an empathy for the angel that had been cast out of Heaven because he sought to be different.
‘Quite a beautiful place, isn’t it?’ Rimbaud asked and Dazai nodded his head ceremoniously.
‘Forgive me for saying this Lord Dazai…but you seem to be quite reticent. Would this happen to be your first appearance in the social circle of Royals? …’ Rimbaud asked him with an inquisitive look.
Dazai gulped ‘Is it that obvious?’
Rimbaud patted him on his shoulder and Dazai did not know how to react to the sudden touch. He settled for a weak smile.
‘Don’t worry, Lord Dazai. You are in good hands…I will acquaint you with most members of the Royal Family in this fiesta and perhaps help you catch up with the recent gossip?’ Rimbaud winked.
Dazai smiled feeling truly grateful to find someone who would help him navigate this fiesta in the house of Duke of Yorkshire.
However, the sudden sound of a galloping horse made him look away from Rimbaud.
His gaze fell upon a gorgeous brown mare with fur that looked to be extremely smooth and luscious.
‘Ah! There comes Lord Chuuya Nakahara-Verlaine. The youngest son of the Duke of Yorkshire.’
That made Dazai tear his gaze away from the horse and look at the rider. Immediately, he felt his breath got caught in his throat.
Orange….Bold and brave enough to defy everyone.
An orange that had the power to captivate any mundane person. It awakened a yearning within him….so intense that he wanted to cower behind his father.
The rider’s hair was flowing in the wind as he rode the horse with wild abandon. His blue piercing irises shone under the light.
How could someone be so beautiful?
Dazai could see the strength of his muscles as he sat in the stirrups and reigned the horse to bend to his will.
The brunet had the distinct feeling that if the rider wanted he could make the most headstrong person submit to his will.
He already had the attention of every person on the estate but he was fashionably nonchalant about it.
Of course…He was confident in his skin, unlike Dazai, who just wanted to hide away from the world because he was insecure about his scrawny look
I do not look like a man.
‘He is a sight to behold isn’t he?’ Rimbaud chuckled as he stared at the bewitched expression of the young brunet noble.
‘Yes..’ Dazai told dreamily then immediately froze when Chuuya gazed straight at his face.
It seemed that the brunet had been rendered immovable by the penetrating look and he felt weak in his knees. An unknown energy was drawing him closer to the enthralling noble.
He jumped slightly when a hand was placed on his shoulder ‘There is a rumor that he has bedded quite a few young virgin men, like yourself.’
Rimbaud’s voice made Dazai break out of the spell that had been cast onto him and his reddish amber eyes widened.
Nakahara made a distasteful expression at Rimbaud before moving his stare away from Dazai and making his horse trot through the estate.
‘Wh-what? But th-that’s wrong.’ Dazai whispered feeling like someone had dropped cold water on him.
The Church condemned any sexual activities between two people of the same gender. It was a sin of the worst kind!
His mind drifted to his father and he knew that the man would probably not have quite a high regard for Nakahara Chuuya. Afterall he was a staunch follower of the sermons of the Church.
The enchanting noble is essentially a sodomite and that… stood against everything that had been ingrained in Dazai since an early age. It revolted him to even think about Nakahara as beautiful.
‘Yes…He has quite a string of lovers from all over the world. I have heard that he is a beast on the bed.’ Rimbaud continued and Dazai was visibly uncomfortable with the conversation.
Though he was more worried about his own emotions regarding the topic as he watched the noble step down from the horse and give it a friendly pat before going off to greet his father and the guests.
He should despise Lord Chuuya Nakahara-Verlaine….Instead, he felt insanely…jealous.
‘Your Father does not appear to be an admirer of him…Maybe even he has heard the rumors.’
Rimbaud declared after observing the cold handshake Dazai’s father gave to young Nakahara.
‘No…He isn’t.’ Dazai said with a small voice avoiding the curious glance Rimbaud gave him.
‘I should retire for the day, Lord Rimbaud.’ Dazai started to step away, wanting to just lie down in his room, away from all the sudden cascading emotions that left him confused.
As he pivoted his feet, a warm hand clasped his wrist and he took in a sharp intake of breath.
‘What is a Goddess like you doing amongst measly mortals like meself?’ A husky voice said and the brunet turned his head to once again stare at blue orbs which looked at him with an intensity that threatened his very existence.
For a moment, the brunet was too awestruck to form a proper reply to Lord Nakahara, who seemed to have no intention of letting go of his hand.
Then, his brain seemed to register that the ostentatious noble was flirting with him and he quickly ripped his hand away from his clutches. He started nursing his wrist, in hopes of purifying it from the defiling touch of the sodomite.
‘I am not like the other virgin boys you have bedded. I won’t make myself into a depraved human being like you.’ Dazai spoke in a stern voice.
He hoped that Nakahara would apologize to him or show some sort of remorse, but the only thing appearing on the man’s face was an amused smile.
‘That is what they all say.’
Dazai gritted his teeth, annoyed with the shameless and sinful flirting of the man.
‘You repulse me.’
‘And you attract me.’ Nakahara responded in an unabashed manner.
The brunet noble felt his blood condense in his hollow cheeks and he turned away his gaze, not wanting to continue the conversation with the ill-mannered and morally wrong noble.
‘Osamu…Come here.’ His father beckoned him from the porch of the mansion and he was thankful to the man for the first time ever.
Without looking back at either Rimbaud or Nakahara, he almost dashed to his father, wanting to escape the awkward situation.
His heart had started palpitating and a thin sheen of sweat had already accumulated on his forehead. It was all perfectly strange for him and he wanted to retreat into his grey world. Orange was pleasant but Dazai feared he would burn for flying too close to it.
‘You love spreading rumors about me, don’t you?’ Nakahara asked Rimbaud who just gave him a sly smile in return.
‘But my rumors do have a grain of salt in them, don’t they?’ The older noble queried with a placid expression.
Nakahara sighed ‘Arthur….I want him. I cannot rest until I have him.’
‘Quite impossible that…After all, he is the only son of Duke of Westminster.’
‘And we both know about how sordidly old-fashioned that man is.’ Nakahara finished, the excitement had already disappeared from his voice.
‘Cheer up….Chuuya.’ Rimbaud patted him on his shoulder ‘I would be blind if I did not notice the way he was fascinated by you. You charmed our little Church boy too much.’
Immediately, Nakahara’s face lighted up with an insatiable glee ‘Well…then. I just have to work harder to get him.’
‘And make him into a rebel like yourself.’ Rimbaud said with a snort. ‘Aren’t you a devious creature?’
‘Just wait and watch…Arthur. He won’t even be able to recognize himself once I am done with him.’ Nakahara winked before prancing away.
‘Young love..’ Rimbaud giggled with a fond smile before a gloomy expression cast on his face as he stared at a blonde-haired man who entered inside the estate with a lady hanging on his arms ‘The cause for most tragedies.’