Archive of Our Own

Dazai wished he could hear that laugh for the first time again. He swore he would do anything just to be able to replay the sound of the laughter whenever he wanted to. It was warm and loud and made Dazai feel like the heat of a thousand suns was burning inside of him, of course, he couldn’t help but stare—discreetly, of course. He wouldn’t be caught dead looking at someone like that with such an enchanted look on his face.

That person happened to be Nakahara Chuuya.The handsome, charismatic, and short captain of the soccer team. 

Dazai remembered the exact moment he fell in love with him. 

He hated thinking that, hated sounding like one of those crazy girls that would follow Chuuya around and proclaim their love with a box of chocolates and a perfume-scented love letter. 

But despite never having spoken a word to him, Dazai knew that the warm feeling in his chest was love , no matter how much he wanted to deny it.

It was the first day of school. Dazai had shown up early and stayed at a desk in the corner of classroom 2B reading a book until the rest of the class began to filter in. 

Dazai was distracted, chewing on the eraser of a pencil while contemplating how a certain suicide method could either end up exactly how he wanted or end with him in extreme pain—which was something he avoided as much as possible—when the sound of a lively and joyful laugh brought him out of his thoughts. He’d quickly turned his head to the source of the sound, and found himself gazing at the most beautiful person he’d ever laid eyes on. 

And that was not an understatement. 

The boy was short, but that was the last thing Dazai noticed. His bright red-orange hair had been tied up in a ponytail on top of his head, but some curls had come loose to frame his face perfectly. His skin was littered with dozens of freckles, and his eyes were the same shade of blue as the sky on the nicest day of the year. 

Luckily, Dazai stopped himself from staring before someone pointed it out and Dazai could be labeled as a freak or made fun of for being so captivated by the boy’s appearance. 

But it’s not like anyone could blame him, he was like the sun personified, and Dazai would soon notice he wasn’t the only one charmed by him. 

It wasn’t long until Dazai discovered his name. He’d overheard his friends—who Dazai found obnoxious, but could tell how much the boy cared for them—talking with him, and one of them had called his name: Chuuya. 

That was the name Dazai found himself repeating in his head over and over again, he craved to test it on his tongue, to call it out and just see what would happen. 

Of course, he never did, he got enough weird stares for the bandages and suicide book already.

After that first day of school, Dazai would peek at Chuuya during class at random times just to see what he was doing, which was usually scribbling something down in his notebook or chatting with his friends. Sometimes he’d catch a glimpse of Chuuya’s hair in the hallways and the speed his head whipped around was embarrassing. 

At first, Dazai labeled this feeling as nothing more than admiration. He thought Chuuya was pretty, he could admit that. But it wasn’t until he saw Chuuya helping an old woman cross the street, teaching a small child how to correctly kick a soccer ball at the park, and offering to help tutor some kids who were flunking math that Dazai realized he was done for . 

What about these simple actions made Dazai’s heart squeeze? Chuuya was only being kind, he was a kind person. 

Was that it? Did Dazai fall in love with Chuuya’s kindness? Or his beauty? Or maybe his personality somehow made everyone gravitate toward him? He didn’t know, all he knew was that he was in love. 

And he hated it. 

When he first discovered his feelings the usual thought of Chuuya in his brain felt like poison. It felt illegal to be thinking of him at all, even though it was kind of inevitable considering Chuuya sat at the desk directly diagonal from him. 

Dazai cursed himself for the way his heart sped up whenever someone mentioned Chuuya. He hated that he had these feelings, hated that he had somehow fallen in love with someone that had no chance of returning his feelings or even knowing of his existence. 

That’s why, when the teacher announced a project they’d be doing with partners, and assigned Dazai and Chuuya together, Dazai felt like he was going to be sick. 

It was one thing to love someone from afar, at least then he could live with his feelings and hope they would easily fade. But loving someone when you had to speak to them every day and pretend you didn’t want to run your hands through their luscious locks of hair and kiss their soft lips until they were red? That was even worse. 

Dazai managed to keep himself from spontaneously combusting as Chuuya approached him, pushing back any thoughts of panic, and oh god I would do anything to have your hands around my neck . 

“Hey, I’m Chuuya,” Chuuya said. Everyone knew that, he said it anyway. 

“I know, I’m Dazai. Nice to meet you,” Dazai responded, holding out a hand—which he instantly regretted once he felt Chuuya’s hand close around his own and his first thought was never let go. 

He did though, and moved to sit at the desk next to him. 

“What are you thinking?” Chuuya asked, resting his chin in his palm and turning toward Dazai. 

Panic shot through Dazai. What was he thinking? What did he mean by that? What did he want to hear? Surely not that Dazai was panicking about how not to sound like a weirdly obsessed stalker while talking to him. So what was he supposed to say?

“Dazai?” Chuuya’s eyebrows drew together in concern as he tilted his head. 

“Huh?” Dazai questioned, his face looking pale as he made eye contact with Chuuya.

“What are you thinking, you know, for the project?” Chuuya repeated, his relaxed demeanor returning. 

Dazai had been trying his best not to stare into Chuuya’s eyes for too long. He’d already embarrassed himself, and while he’d like to believe the situation couldn’t get worse, it most definitely could. 

“Hmm, I was thinking Oscar Wilde? His life would make a pretty interesting presentation, and it shouldn’t be too difficult,” Dazai responded, luckily not stumbling over his words. The assignment was to create a presentation on an author of choice. 

“That would be perfect. The Picture of Dorian Gray is my favorite, and I love his poetry,” Chuuya clasped his hands together, and his mouth broke out into a bright smile—which caused Dazai’s heartbeat to flutter an embarrassing amount. 

He was somewhat surprised, he’d never expected Chuuya to be interested in poetry. 

Unfortunately, Dazai’s surprise was something Chuuya seemed to pick up on, as when he noticed Dazai’s face his expression soured.

“ What? ” Chuuya said with a frown.

“Nothing—“ Dazai quickly waved his hands and plastered a smile across his face in an attempt to revoke what he’d said. “I just didn’t take you for the poetry—or even literature—type.” 

Chuuya crossed his arms, “What, do I not look pretentious enough?”

“It’s not that—“

“Then what is it?” Chuuya asked, although something in his voice gave Dazai the impression that he already knew. 

“It’s just…” Dazai stopped for a second, thinking of the correct words. “I’ve always thought you were more of a sporty person. You’re the captain of the soccer team, after all.” 

Chuuya’s lips formed a straight line. “And I can’t be good at sports and like poetry ?” He asked, a hint of humor in his voice. 

“That’s not what I said,” Dazai sighed.

“It’s what you implied.”

Dazai rolled his eyes, “I just mean most people who are talented in sports aren’t usually interested in literature or academics or any of those types of things.” 

Chuuya shrugged, “You didn’t know I tutor people? I’m very good at math.”

“But do you tutor in literature?” Dazai asked. 

“No, but that’s only because nobody has needed it. Who fails that class?” Chuuya leaned closer to Dazai, but leaned back again when he noticed how Dazai had tensed.

“Nobody, I guess. But we should probably get started on this presentation or we will,” Dazai pointed at the clock, which showed that the next class began in only two minutes. 

“Give me your phone,” Chuuya said, holding out his hand. 

Dazai pulled it out and gave it to him, watching as Chuuya put in his number, trying not to freak out. When Chuuya handed it back, Dazai felt tense as their fingers brushed against each other.

“Meet me in the classroom after school and we can go to my place to work on the assignment. Text me if anything comes up,” Chuuya said, then disappeared with the crowd of students leaving the classroom.

It took a moment for Chuuya’s words to register in Dazai’s mind, so when he realized they were going to be working at Chuuya’s house and Chuuya wanted to walk there together , he was pretty sure he could hear his brain short circuit. 

—

The sun peeked through the windows of the mostly empty classroom, leaving a warm and peaceful atmosphere. Chuuya sat on top of his desk, waiting for Dazai to arrive. 

He didn’t give Dazai much of an option when he’d told him to meet him here, so he was hoping Dazai hadn’t decided to bail, even though he could’ve easily texted Chuuya if he wasn’t able to come. 

Chuuya didn’t receive any messages, so he just held onto the hope that he didn’t text because there was no need to.

To be honest, when the teacher announced that Chuuya would be working with Dazai, he was surprised. He felt rude for never noticing Dazai’s presence in the back of the classroom, even though they sat near each other. You would think he’d be more noticeable with those bandages he had wrapped around his limbs and the book on suicide he kept at his desk (which Chuuya didn’t ask about, he didn’t really want to hear the reason for Dazai having it.) 

He and Dazai made easy conversation, and he’d somewhat regretted not attempting to talk to him—or even acknowledge his existence—sooner. 

So now he patiently waited for Dazai’s arrival, hoping he didn’t decide to ditch him.

The sound of a door creaking open caught Chuuya’s attention, and he turned his head in the direction of the sound. A wave of relief shot through his body as Chuuya saw Dazai enter the classroom. He got up from the desk he was sitting at to stalk toward Dazai, who had his hands behind his back and a backpack hanging off his shoulder. 

“Took you long enough!” Chuuya exclaimed, moving to grab Dazai’s arm but immediately retracting it once he remembered how Dazai had tensed up the last time he touched him. “Let’s go!” 

Now that they both stood next to each other, their differences in height became more noticeable. Chuuya looked up at Dazai (which strained his neck a bit) to see Dazai grinning down at him. 

“What?” Chuuya asked, a frown forming on his lips. 

“Nothing…I just didn’t realize how short you were,” Dazai responded, turning his head in the opposite direction of Chuuya’s face. 

“What the fuck? That was uncalled for, we’re still teenagers and I’m still growing,” Chuuya said, offended.

Dazai looked at him, taken aback by his reaction, “I had no idea Chuuya was such a potty mouth!” 

“Only towards stupid mackerels who are too tall for their own good,” Chuuya responded, narrowing his eyes. 

“Mackerel?” Dazai stifled a laugh, turning his head to the side. 

“You look like a dumb fish.”

“Well, you look slimy! Like a slug. I bet you leave a slime trail wherever you go,” Dazai retaliated, ignoring the way his face went red when he saw Chuuya attempting to hide a laugh behind his hand. 

“I do not!” Chuuya argued, crossing his arms. 

“Uh-huh.”

Finally giving up, Chuuya sighed. “I—whatever. Let’s go, the sun is going to set soon and it’ll get cold,” He said, turning toward the door.

Dazai followed close behind, and they both left the empty classroom to begin the short walk to Chuuya’s house. 

“How far is your place?” Dazai asked.

“Not too far, like a five-minute walk,” Chuuya responded from in front of him.

Dazai responded with a hum before Chuuya led them both out of the school building. The sky was the same bright blue it had been throughout the day, but the golden tint the sun left on their surroundings revealed that it wouldn’t be too long until it set. 

Chuuya walked quickly, in a hurry to get home before it got chilly. Dazai followed not far behind but struggled a bit to keep up with Chuuya’s pace.

Noticing Dazai beginning to fall behind, Chuuya turned abruptly and shot a glare at Dazai. 

“Why are you so slow?” Chuuya spat, “You struggle to keep up with me yet call me slug?” 

Dazai frowned, “You walk faster because you’re short! Those tiny legs give you an advantage.”

“What the hell? That doesn’t even make any sense!”

“Yes it does, you’re just stupid,” Dazai said.

“I’m not— “ Chuuya huffed, deciding not to lash out since it would drag out their walk even more. “Whatever, keep up with me or I’m leaving you behind.”

Somewhat shocked that Chuuya didn’t take the bait, Dazai stumbled forward to keep up with Chuuya as he began walking again, this time even faster (which he totally wasn’t doing to annoy Dazai.)

They walked for a few more minutes, both of them too afraid to break the peaceful silence that had settled between them.

It was fun arguing with each other. Neither of them would admit it, but bickering with each other was something they both enjoyed. But as much as they enjoyed it, the silence was nice as well. 

Chuuya’s head buzzed with thoughts and the silence gave him solace. When he wanted a distraction, he could comment on how messy Dazai’s hair looked, or how his long legs made him look like some disproportionate and disfigured spider, but right now the stillness between him and Dazai was something he wouldn’t dare interrupt. 

By the time they arrived at Chuuya’s house, the sun was peeking through the leaves on the trees and leaving a dim light and peaceful atmosphere throughout his neighborhood. 

When he turned to look at Dazai, the sun shone in a way that gave depth to his eyes, making them look like deep pools of honey. Chuuya hated to admit it, but from this angle, Dazai almost looked handsome. His eyes shone brightly and his eyelashes were dark and long. His skin was pale (almost concerningly so) but looked like it was glowing. This embarrassing study of Dazai’s face led Chuuya to make a decision he immediately regretted—looking at Dazai’s lips. They were slightly chapped but still plump and rosy. Chuuya wondered what they would taste like…

…No?! His face grew red and he threw his head in the opposite direction of Dazai’s face. There was no way he was having those thoughts about Dazai. He’d just met him, and he was so incredibly irritating that the thought of being even slightly intimate with him should make Chuuya sick. 

(But it didn’t , and that was a problem.)

Forgetting Dazai’s presence, Chuuya drove his palms into his eyes and groaned.

“Uh…?” Dazai’s obnoxious voice threw Chuuya out of his thoughts, and his annoyance with him immediately returned.

Chuuya rolled his eyes, “ What? ” He said, the annoyance thick in his voice.

“I was going to ask if you were alright, but I no longer care,” Dazai murmured. “Let’s just go inside and get this project done with so I can leave as soon as possible.”

Groaning, Chuuya opened the door and let him in. He signaled for Dazai to follow him up the stairs and the two settled in Chuuya’s room—Chuuya on the edge of his bed, and Dazai sitting in a beanbag diagonal from him—before starting their project. 

After finishing the majority of their presentation (a process that included lots of bickering and many arguments), Dazai rested his chin in his hand and looked over their slides skeptically. 

“I feel like it’s missing something,” He said, narrowing his eyes.

Chuuya immediately took the laptop from Dazai’s hands, “You tried to make each of the slides neon green and made the font comic sans. You are not adding anything.” 

Dazai rolled his eyes, “It would’ve looked good!” He turned his head towards Chuuya, “But I didn’t mean layout-wise. Didn’t you mention enjoying his poetry? Why don’t you add something about that?” 

Chuuya looked slightly taken aback, surprised that Dazai remembered he said that. He set the laptop in his lap, “I could do that.” 

Watching as Chuuya worked, Dazai fidgeted with his hands before asking a question he’d been somewhat afraid to ask. 

“Do you write poetry?”

Chuuya turned his head up, “Some…I wouldn’t consider it good though,” He said, pressing his lips into a thin line.

“Can I read some?”

Chuuya shrugged, “Why not?” He said before setting the laptop on the bed next to him and getting up to search for one of his notebooks.

He ended up fishing a notebook with a red cover off of one of his bookshelves and flipping to a random page. He read over it quickly and recognized the poem as one he had titled Exhaustion, then handed the book to Dazai.

Chuuya sat back down on the bed and watched as Dazai read the poem. His eyes slide over the pages, his eyes unreadable. Chuuya watched as his thumb reached the end of the page, and he looked up. 

“This is… good ,” Dazai said, eyes wide but still unreadable.

Chuuya grinned, “I’m glad I’ve gotten your approval,” he said sarcastically, hiding his appreciation for Dazai’s positive feedback.

Dazai closed the notebook and handed it back to Chuuya. “Have you ever been in love?” He asked suddenly.

“What?” Chuuya asked, surprised.

“The poem, it was mostly about love? ‘ yet now I do nothing but dream about love’ ?” 

“Oh,” Chuuya nodded, thinking over his answer. “No, not really.”

Dazai hummed.

“I think…I just wish I was in love. Not all the time, but sometimes I think if I was in love I’d see things a lot differently. People always talk about love like it’s this life-changing thing that changes your view on things, I want to know if that’s true,” Chuuya answered somewhat shyly, something unusual for him. “Also...I think it would be nice to have someone love me. It’s embarrassing but I’ve always wanted to know what it was like to have someone be in love with me.”

(Dazai’s sudden tenseness went unnoticed.) 

“That’s understandable,” Dazai acknowledged, “You think your writing would be better if you were in love too?” He questioned.

“I think it’d give me lots of new things to write about.” 

Dazai smiled, “Right.” 

After they had stared at each other for a solid minute, neither of them sure why, Chuuya cleared his throat and lifted the laptop.

“Well, I uh—I finished the part you wanted me to do so—“ 

“I guess we’re done then,” Dazai interrupted.

Chuuya tipped his head, “I guess so.”

The awkwardness between them was thick, both of them wanted to be out as soon as possible, so Dazai took his jacket before clearing his throat and waving goodbye. 

“I’ll see you at school. Bye, Chuuya,” He said before disappearing out the door. 

Chuuya could barely say bye or even wave back before Dazai was gone. 

But that was okay, he would see him again. 

—

When Dazai returned home, the sun had set and his house was mostly empty (his parents were still at work and his sibling was either already asleep or somewhere Dazai didn’t care to know.) He dragged himself up the stairs slowly, as if each step was covered in thick honey.

This gloomy mood had been brought upon him partly by exhaustion, as the day had been long and his energy was drained, but mainly by thoughts of a certain hotheaded slug that infected his brain like a parasite. 

After getting to know him more than he already had (watching his daily activities around school only revealed so much), Dazai had unfortunately found that his feelings for Chuuya had only increased since he first laid eyes on him.

He was done for. 

His smile, his laugh, his yell, the way his cheeks became red when he was flustered…Dazai found himself growing fonder each second he spent with him, and he found he liked his reactions much more when they were because of him. 

Sure, his laugh sent a spark of joy up Dazai’s spine each time he heard it, but nothing could compare to how Dazai felt when he heard Chuuya laugh because of something he did.

(Which may or may not have been tripping on a literal pencil and falling flat on his face.)

Dazai found himself both grateful and resentful towards the teacher that had paired him and Chuuya together. 

He wanted to wrap the teacher in a big hug and scream how thankful he was for giving him a chance to speak with Chuuya, but he also cursed him because how dare he? Why would he introduce him to Chuuya and disappoint Dazai even more when his feelings aren't reciprocated? He wanted to scream.

Finally reaching the top of the stairs, Dazai collapsed. He groaned, burying his face into the carpet while kicking his feet in frustration. 

“‘Samu?” A small, quiet, and half-asleep voice whispered. Dazai looked up to find his younger sibling staring down at him with a mixture of confusion and concern. “Are you alright?” They asked with a frown. 

“I’m fine, Q. Go to bed,” Dazai said with his face squished against the floor. He watched as his sibling turned away, despite the look on their face that revealed that they knew Dazai was not, in fact, fine, they decided not to push and returned to their room. Dazai was grateful. 

After slowly peeling himself from the ground, Dazai managed to drag himself into his bedroom where he undressed and prepared himself for bed, despite knowing he would most likely not be getting any sleep. He didn’t most days, which was obvious from the dark circles under his eyes that he was sure played a part in his peers distancing themselves from him at school. With how his mind was currently racing, getting any sort of sleep seemed unlikely. He’d keep himself up with fantasies of a world where Chuuya liked him back, and thoughts of how he never would. 

Settling in his bed, Dazai tucked one of his pillows under his chin to rest his head against. He once heard that many people slept like this because they imagined those pillows as companions since they were so lonely. Dazai didn’t think he was very lonely though. Sure, he longed for a partner, but he’d only ever imagined that partner to be one person, and when he cuddled close to his pillows he didn’t imagine them as that person, he just thought it was a comfortable position to sleep in. Sure, he was alone, but he never wished for friends, so he didn’t believe himself to be lonely. Lonely people wanted people to be close to, Dazai knew anyone he was close to he would lose eventually, he was not lonely. 

Closing his eyes, Dazai prepared for a long night of zero rest. 

—

The last thing Dazai expected when he went to school the next morning was for Chuuya to approach him and start talking to him.

He’d expected Chuuya to pretend he didn’t exist after they presented their project as most people did. 

It was no secret that Dazai was academically talented, which often led to people taking advantage of his skills to get good grades in group projects.

They would chat with him for a bit, act as if they were working on the project, and have Dazai do the majority before going off to who knows where once it was finished and never speaking to Dazai again. 

It was like Dazai was a ghost, one that only appeared when someone needed a good grade. 

But Dazai wasn’t a ghost to Chuuya. After they presented their project, he approached him and struck up a conversation.

He’d simply said “Hey,” and Dazai replied with an extremely unnecessary comment about Chuuya’s height that led to loud bickering between the two that definitely caught the attention of the people around them.

It was a loud, chaotic, and less-than-polite conversation, but it was more conversation than Dazai had ever had with his previous project partners. 

Of course, Dazai never thought Chuuya would take advantage of his intelligence, but he was still thankful for the fact that he didn’t. 

He, however, was not thankful that this small act of kindness from Chuuya made Dazai fall even deeper in love with him. 

It was so stupid, to fall in love with someone because they didn’t walk through you as other people did, but Dazai did it anyway, and he would keep doing it since everything Chuuya did seem to send butterflies to his stomach. 

It was sickening, stupid, and shameful. But he would do it again.

He would fall in love with Chuuya again and again in every lifetime, even though Chuuya would never love him back in any.

—

That wasn’t the last time Chuuya spoke to him, not for a long shot.

He invited Dazai to eat lunch with him, hang out with his friends, and watch one of his soccer games.

Dazai always said no. 

He didn’t know why Chuuya was so insistent on Dazai spending time with him. Perhaps he pitied him, he saw how he was always alone and wanted to hang out with him so he wouldn’t be alone any longer. Chuuya was kind like that.

But Dazai wasn’t, even if it gave Chuuya some sort of relief, he rejected all of Chuuya’s invitations. He didn’t want to take the chance of messing something up. He stared too often, Chuuya’s friends would realize and call him out, he didn’t want to take any chances. But today—

“Please?” Chuuya pleaded. This was the third time this week he’d asked Dazai to sit with him and his friends at lunch. 

Dazai pushed his lips into a thin line, “No.” 

“But why?” Chuuya asked, following behind Dazai as he began to walk away. 

Dazai quickened his pace, “I like eating alone.”

“Sure you do,” Chuuya said, rolling his eyes. “Nobody likes eating alone, not even you. I can tell.” 

“How so?”

“You look at me,” Chuuya grinned. “You look at me during lunch, I see you. You want to sit with me but you’re too afraid to ask. So why don’t you just accept my invitation?”

That’s not why I look at you , Dazai wanted to say. 

“Maybe I’m just looking at you because you’re ugly and look like a stupid slug,” He said instead.

“We both know that’s not true. Between the two of us, who's confessed to the most?” 

“That’s harsh,” Dazai frowned.

“Harsh but true. Maybe if you fixed up your hair a bit and got more sleep, more girls would be running after you n’ confessing how they’ve been in love with you for ages because of your strikingly good looks,” Chuuya said smugly.

“So you admit I’m good-looking?” Dazai joked, expecting Chuuya to start screaming about how Dazai looked like a fish again. 

“I never said that, but yes, if you look hard enough.”

(Dazai should not be fighting a blush right now. That was barely a compliment at all.)

“If I agree to eat lunch with you, will you stop rubbing your good looks into my face?” Dazai said, masking his flustered face with an annoyed one. 

“Maybe,” Chuuya said before stifling a laugh with the palm of his hand.

Dazai rolled his eyes, “Fine.”

Chuuya practically lit up. “Meet me by the classroom before lunch, we’ll walk there together,” He said with a slight jump before skipping off like some kid who just got candy.  

Dazai stuck to his word and met Chuuya at the classroom before lunch. Chuuya looked as happy as ever and dragged Dazai to his lunch table with the brightest smile he’d ever seen. 

There he introduced Dazai to his two friends, Yuan and Shirase. They’re just as obnoxious as they looked, and Dazai didn’t try very hard to hide his dislike towards them. Shirase is annoying, and he spoke like he knew everything and was better than everyone. Yuan was not as bad, but something about her irked Dazai. She wasn't very annoying but instead was sort of possessive over her friends. Dazai had a feeling his dislike was mutual. 

“She was totally into me! Did you see how she was staring?” Shirase boasted. 

“She was probably staring at the food stuck in your teeth,” Yuan said, poking at her food. At least she wasn’t stupid, Dazai couldn’t say the same for Shirase.

Chuuya let out a small laugh from next to him, earning a dirty look from Shirase. Dazai stayed mostly silent during their conversation, he felt like a puzzle piece that didn’t fit. Chuuya, Shirase, and Yuan go together, but Dazai doesn’t. 

“Hey Dazai, Isn’t the girl Shirase is talking about in our class?” 

But Chuuya was a magnet, he pulled Dazai in and would make him fit whether he liked it or not. 

“Yoshida? I think so, I remember her presentation.”

Dazai wasn’t stupid enough to be blind to the way Chuuya was trying to include him in the conversation, and if it were anyone else he might’ve gotten up and left right then. But unlike other people, it didn’t feel as if Chuuya was pitying him. He wanted Dazai to speak because he actually enjoyed talking to him, whereas other people wanted him to speak because they thought he looked lonely when he didn’t. 

Not that it happened frequently, because most people looked at Dazai like he wasn’t even there. For them, he was a ghost that they would walk right through. It was either he was completely nonexistent, or he was lonely and needed pitying, never in between. 

“God, it was so bad,” Chuuya said, snapping Dazai out of his trance. He wasn’t wrong, the girl’s presentation was a train wreck. She and another guy who spent 90% of the class slacking off were grouped, which resulted in the mess that was their presentation.

Dazai let out a small laugh, “I still can’t get over how she and her partner made up a bunch of facts about the author they did their presentation on. Was it really that difficult for them to do actual research? And the light yellow text on the slideshow...I still don’t know what it said.”

“You say that like you didn’t try to change the color of the slides to the ugliest shade of neon green multiple times,” Chuuya teased. When he leaned slightly closer, Dazai almost forgot Yuan and Shirase were still sitting in front of them.

“As a joke!” He exclaimed with a grin.

“The comic sans was too?” 

“Well…”

Yuan and Shirase looked at each other, knowing they’d become completely invisible to the bickering boys in front of them. They continued going back and forth with insults and half-assed comebacks until the end of lunch, and then when Dazai returned to the table for lunch the next day, they did it again. 

(And again, and again, until they fell into a routine of sitting at lunch together every day and bickering back and forth until Yuan and Shirase were completely invisible to them each time.) 

—

The first time Dazai and Chuuya hung out outside of school for something unrelated to schoolwork was exactly three weeks after their first interaction. 

Winter had arrived, covering each inch of ground with paper-white snow. It was cold, the type of cold that had your cheeks turning pink and your breath visible each time you spoke. Dazai loved this type of weather. Mostly because he preferred wearing sweaters over t-shirts, and the way his bandages stuck to his arms in the hot summer heat was unbearable. 

Chuuya had waited by his locker, already bundled up in a warm coat and wearing his snow boots. Dazai took out his books and coat while giving Chuuya a questioning look, but he didn’t say anything. Once his shoes were on and his coat was buttoned, he finally gave in, letting out a breath.

“What is it?” Dazai asked, raising an eyebrow at Chuuya. 

He watched as Chuuya bit the inside of his cheek as if he was trying to come up with an excuse for waiting for him. 

“I can’t just wait for you?” Chuuya said, pulling at a loose string on his gloves. “Like a normal friend would do?” 

Dazai’s lips pulled into a straight line, “So we’re ‘normal friends’ now?” He questioned flatly. Never in his life had he imagined being as much as acquaintances with Chuuya, so he definitely never thought they would be “normal friends.” Hell, he didn’t even know what a normal friend was , he’d never had any before. Chuuya was like a painting in a museum with the words “do not touch” engraved on the wall beneath it, Dazai could admire him as much as he’d liked, but never in a million years could he ever be friends with him.

But here he was. 

“I mean, yeah. Aren’t we? We eat lunch together, we talk whenever we see each other. Isn’t that what a friend is?” Chuuya asked, raising an eyebrow.

Dazai sighed, “I wouldn’t know.”

“Well, now you do.” Chuuya grinned, “Anyway, I actually came here to extend an invitation.”

At that, Dazai’s mask fell for a second, revealing the genuine surprise on his face. He hoped Chuuya didn’t notice. 

“And that would be?” He asked, trying not to seem too excited. The flatness in his voice faded slightly, but he attempted to mask it with a hint of teasing in his tone. 

“We haven’t hung out since we worked on that project together. You should come over to my place.”

Now, if Dazai wasn’t an expert at hiding his emotions constantly, his mouth would’ve fallen open, and his eyes would’ve widened in shock. Because, what? Chuuya wanted to hang out with him? At his house? He had to have been joking. 

“Don’t you have other friends to hang out with?” Dazai said. 

Chuuya let out a loud groan, “I knew you would say that. Can’t I just want to hang out with you?”

No , Dazai wanted to say. You’re making me feel too special, he wanted to scream. You’ll get my hopes up . 

Dazai bit his lip, looking at Chuuya. His eyes were wide and his eyebrows were scrunched together in clear frustration. Leave it to Chuuya to leave his emotions out in the open like this, he never wore a mask as Dazai did, it was admirable. 

“Fine,” Dazai said, rolling his eyes. “I’ll hang out with you, but only because you’re making me feel bad.” 

Chuuya grinned, “Yes! Let's go.”

“Right now?” Dazai asked, mouth wide open and eyebrows raised both in question and fake annoyance. 

“Uh, duh? When else?” 

Sighing, Dazai followed behind Chuuya as he ran out of the school into the snow. 

—

Chuuya’s house smelled like cinnamon and vanilla, which is something Dazai noticed the first time he came here when they were working on their project for school. Chuuya said it was because his sister liked to bake. She wasn’t home when Dazai got there, but according to Chuuya, she was the best big sister someone could ask for.

He told Dazai about how his fathers both worked and traveled frequently, so they weren’t home often. He said his sister, Kouyou, is always home. She makes dinner, wakes him up in the mornings, and bakes him cookies when he’s sad. Chuuya tells Dazai that when his fathers return home from trips they always bring him a book of poetry. Because they’re both French and mostly visit France, Chuuya’s bookshelves are filled with poetry books from mostly French poets, but there are also Japanese, American, and British poets lining his bookshelves as well. 

“Remember how I let you read one of my poems last time you came here?” Chuuya asked Dazai not long after they entered his room. They lay on his bed, Chuuya’s head rested on Dazai’s lap as Dazai rested his against the wall behind Chuuya’s bed. 

Dazai was still trying to grasp the fact that Chuuya's head was on his lap when he asked the question. “Yeah, I do,” He said, code for: how could I not? It was amazing and I thought about it for days.

“I wrote some more, I want to know your thoughts,” Chuuya said, looking up at Dazai.

Dazai nodded, “Okay.”

Chuuya got up and grabbed the same notebook the last poem was in. Dazai watched as he flipped through the pages before landing on the right one and showing it to Dazai.

“This one,” He said, pointing at the page. 

Chuuya watched as Dazai’s eyes carefully studied the page, breath stuttering each time he reached a new stanza. 

As Dazai finished the poem, his head quickly shot up, causing him to bump noses with Chuuya, who’d been watching him read it from a close distance.

“Ouch,” Chuuya said, grabbing his nose.

Dazai watched him with wide eyes, still surprised at the fact that he’d been so close. But he quickly shook himself out of it, muttering a quiet “Sorry.”

Chuuya looked at him with a questioning look in his eyes, “So, what did you think?”

“Oh I–” Dazai had completely forgotten Chuuya was looking for feedback, but this poem was just as amazing as the other and he had no clue how to phrase that without seeming weird. “I really liked it, the imagery was–” Stunning? Amazing? Astounding? “Really good.” 

Chuuya grinned, “Thank you, I needed that. I’ve been in a total writing slump recently.”

That shocked Dazai, “So you wanted me to read it because you knew I would praise you and you use praise as a form of motivation?” He gasped, feigning offense. “I’m hurt, I thought you wanted my honest feedback.”

Dazai watched as Chuuya's grin spread further across his face. “I did, I swear. I just kind of knew you’d like it,” He said, defending himself. 

“Don’t get so full of yourself now. I bet there’s one poem in there that I don’t like,” Dazai said, gesturing to Chuuya’s notebook. 

“Fine, then let's make a bet,” Chuuya took the book from Dazai and settled himself back on the bed next to him. “I let you read every poem I have in here, and if you dislike even one of them, you don’t have to sit next to me at lunch or come over here ever again. But…If you like everyone, then you have to come to hang out with me here every day after school until next week and you have to make Christmas cookies with my sister and me this weekend.”

Dazai smiled, already knowing he’d lose the bet, “Deal.”

—

It’s really no surprise that a week later, Dazai found himself in the kitchen wearing a flour-covered apron with Chuuya and his sister. He’d found that he and Kouyou got along well, but she was not fond of the fact that Dazai was completely incapable of cooking. She made the mistake of letting him put the cookies in the oven, and they burnt so bad they had to make a completely different batch.

 Now, he and Chuuya chased each other around the kitchen as the final batch–one Dazai wasn’t allowed anywhere near–baked in the oven. Chuuya followed Dazai around the kitchen with a batter-covered spatula with the goal of getting him to try the dough even though Dazai had taken a vow to never eat raw cookie dough after his older brother got sick with salmonella when he was younger. 

“One lick won't kill you!” Chuuya shouted, “You have to try it.” 

Dazai ducked around the counter, narrowly escaping Chuuya’s grasp, “And when I get so sick I’m puking my guts out, what are you going to do then?” 

“That won’t happen!”

“Yes, it will! I’ve seen it with my own two eyes,” Dazai argued.

“Just because it happened once–” Chuuya began, but was quickly cut off by Kouyou–who just returned from the bathroom–clearing her throat. 

“You boys are trashing the kitchen. There’s dough everywhere!” She exclaimed, rubbing her temple. 

“Sorry, Kouyou,” The two quickly apologized, before rushing to get towels to clean it up.

Kouyou sighed, “It’s alright, but just be more careful next time.”

Both boys nodded before starting to clean.

“Still,” Chuuya whispered, “Just one bite.”

“Do you want me to get salmonella?” Dazai asked, eyebrows raised.

Chuuya rolled his eyes, “ No, but how are you going to fully enjoy these cookies knowing you didn’t get to taste the dough? That’s like 90% of the reason we don’t get these from the store.” 

Dazai responded with a flat look before holding his hand out so Chuuya would give him the spatula. “If I get sick, you have to take care of me,” He said. 

“Deal,” Chuuya responded with a grin, before watching Dazai carefully taste some of the dough.

—

Dazai lay next to Chuuya in his bed. Chuuya was sound asleep, his chest rising and falling at a consistent rate (not that Dazai was paying attention.) Dazai, however, was wide awake. He couldn’t help but be nervous, since he was in a bed right next to the boy he’d been crushing on for ages. He watched as Chuuya turned over with a small groan, it looked like whatever he was dreaming was nice. Dazai envied him, he never had good dreams. Perhaps that also contributed to his current lack of sleep. He feared he’d wake Chuuya up with one of his nightmares and embarrass himself. Of course, that was unlikely, a large reason he could be struggling to sleep right now could be due to the reason that most of the time, he hardly slept at all.

He looked at Chuuya again, attempting to ignore the small stutter in his heartbeat when he did. Chuuya looked beautiful even in his sleep. His vibrant red hair was sprawled around him like a halo, and the way the moonlight filtered through the curtains to add a subtle sparkle to all his features added even more to his angelic look. Dazai sat up, lifting the blankets quietly to try not to wake up Chuuya. 

He left the bed, then the bedroom, to wander to the kitchen. Despite being outside of Chuuya’s room now, he still kept as quiet as possible. He always felt out of place in other people’s houses, and being caught getting a drink of water (although no one would have a problem with it) would be terrifying. 

After grabbing a glass from one of the cupboards (which he had become familiar with while baking with Chuuya), Dazai filled it up with tap water and sipped on it slowly. Since he was afraid pulling out a chair would make too much noise, he leaned against the kitchen island. He continued sipping the water, slightly cringing at the way it slid down his throat–thick and stale like an old bread slice–drinking water was something he avoided most times due to this. Unfortunately, dehydration (and nervousness) led him to this position. 

It wasn’t until around five minutes later (the glass of water was only half empty) that Dazai was jolted out of his strange haze by a creak in the floorboards. As he looked up, he was greeted by Chuuya–hair messy and tangled, eyes half open, and a blanket wrapped around him–in front of the island he currently leaned against. 

“What’re you doing?” Chuuya slurred, still half asleep. Dazai watched as he yawned and rubbed his eyes, obviously exhausted. 

Dazai painted on a grin and gestured to the glass in his hand, “Drinking water? I know you’re stupid, but are you blind now too?” He teased. 

Chuuya rolled his eyes, “Not what I meant, genius. I mean what are you doing out here?” He seemed to be more away now. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” Dazai shrugged, deciding to tell the truth. It wasn’t like Chuuya would make fun of him, and lying wouldn’t do anything in this situation. 

Chuuya frowned, “Does that happen often?”

Dazai nodded, “Yeah, most nights. You don’t have to worry about it.” He joked, trying to lighten the mood. Chuuya’s frown only deepened, causing Dazai’s grin to disappear.

“Don’t I?” Chuuya said unexpectedly. Dazai straightened, looking at him with his eyes wide. “I–Sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I mean, I worry about you. I care about you.” 

Silently, Dazai thanked whatever god there was for the fact that the lights were off and Chuuya couldn’t see his blush. 

“Why?” Dazai asked, almost clapping his hand over his mouth because he did not intend to say that out loud. 

“ Why?” Chuuya repeated, looking at him as if he’d grown a second head. “Because you’re my friend? Why wouldn’t I?” 

“I guess I’m just not used to it. You know I haven’t really had friends before.”

“Well, know now that friends always care for each other. If you ever make new friends, and they don’t care about you, they’re not real friends.”

Dazai smiled, “Thanks for the advice.”

“Of course, what are friends for?” Chuuya said, returning the smile. “Now come on, let's go watch a movie until the sun rises. Don’t tell Kouyou though, she’d kill me.” 

—

Needless to say, Dazai’s visits didn’t stop there. He visited almost every day, he and Chuuya would study and do school work together, then help Kouyou make dinner. Chuuya still had yet to meet Dazai’s parents, because (according to him) they were too busy. That was also why they didn’t mind him rarely being home. For Christmas, however, Chuuya finally uncovered another piece in the large jigsaw puzzle that was Dazai’s life. 

“Do you have any plans for Christmas?” Chuuya had asked. He and Dazai were in his bedroom, legs tangled together as they binge-watched cheesy Hallmark Christmas movies on his twin-sized bed. 

He watched as Dazai paused as if he was thinking, curious to see if he would actually get an answer other than yes or no. 

“My parents are usually busy around then, so probably not,” He said, shrugging like it was something he was used to. 

Chuuya frowned, “You should spend it with us, then.” 

Dazai’s eyes lit up with shock, “I–” He stuttered, at loss for words. “Would Kouyou be okay with it?” He sputtered out. 

A large grin plastered itself across Chuuya’s face. “Are you kidding? Of course, she loves you,” He said, looking as if he was trying to keep from bursting into laughter. 

“What’s so funny?” Dazai asked, biting the inside of his cheek. 

“I just thought that was obvious. I mean, you’ve been spending a lot of time here, if she didn’t want you around I think she would’ve said something by now.” 

“Yeah, but isn’t Christmas a bit different? It's usually a holiday people spend with family members or their lovers. We’re neither of those.” 

Chuuya smiled, “I’m pretty sure Kouyou sees you as another little brother already. Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay..but what about your parents? Won’t they be here for Christmas? They barely know me. And there’s another problem,” Dazai said, looking down at his hands tangled together in his lap.

“I’ve told them all about you, they won't mind at all if you’re here. And what’s the problem?” Chuuya asked.

Dazai nodded and looked up, avoiding Chuuya’s eyes by looking at the door to his closet. “Our nanny doesn’t work on holidays. I’d have to take care of my little sibling,” He said, looking almost ashamed.

“You have a little sibling?” Chuuya questioned, eyes wide. 

Dazai sighed, “Yes.”

“What’s their name? How old are they? Why have you never mentioned them before?” 

“Their name–well nickname–is Q. They’re nine and I didn’t mention them before because I didn’t think it was necessary. I never talk about my family.” 

Chuuya shifted his position so he was back laying down, this time on his stomach. “I wish you would sometimes.”

Dazai slid down the headboard so he was more even with Chuuya’s gaze. “Why?” He asked, fixing Chuuya with a confused look. 

“I just want to know more about you, I guess. But it's okay if you don’t like talking about them,” He responded, propping his head on his palm.

Dazai smiled, “Aw, Chuuya wants to know more about me? I’m flattered.” 

“Don’t make me regret saying that,” Chuuya said with a glare. “But yes, I do.”

“Let's make another deal, then,” Dazai said suddenly. At the sight of Chuuya scrunching his eyebrows together in confusion, he continued. “I’ll bring Q here for Christmas–of course only if Kouyou and your parents are alright with it–and if it goes well, I’ll answer any questions you have about my family or me.”

Chuuya grinned, “Any question?”

“Any question,” Dazai returned the grin.

—

Nakahara Chuuya is hopelessly in love with Dazai Osamu. He’s known it for a while now, ever since he and his little sibling came over for Christmas and Chuuya got to see him as he’d never seen him before. 

Maybe he saw this coming. After endless sleepovers with their limbs tangled together and his head almost always resting on the other's chest when they woke up in the morning, after constantly teasing each other to the point that the people around them accused them of arguing like an old married couple, and after spending every waking second with each other it was almost inevitable for one of them to fall in love.

Chuuya just hated that he had to be the one to do it. 

He mourned the fact that the soft touches and secrets told in the dead of night will only ever be platonic. Dazai brushes Chuuya’s hair behind his ear when he’s talking and Chuuya has to fight every bone in his body to keep himself from kissing him right then and there. He hid his aggressive blush with a pillow and turned away whenever the sight of Dazai’s face got too much. Chuuya will say it's because he can’t stand the sight of a slimy fish in front of him for too long, but it's really the exact opposite. 

What Chuuya hated the most is that he could never, ever tell Dazai how he felt. He treasured their friendship more than anything in the world, and would rather die than let his feelings get in the way of it. 

So Chuuya masked his love with hatred and pretended he didn't feel anything towards the other. It was difficult, and he wished he didn’t have to, but he needed to do it, or else he'd be suffering even more than he was right now. 

It's spring now, and unfortunately, his feelings did not melt with the snow like he wanted them to. He and Dazai are walking to school when a gust of wind blew a dozen cherry blossoms off of the tree next to them. 

“It's April now,” Dazai said, tucking a blossom he caught behind Chuuya’s ear. 

Chuuya pretended to rub his nose in an attempt to hide his blush. “Seems like December was only yesterday,” He said, removing his arm from his face hesitantly. 

“Have you received any college acceptance letters?” Dazai asked, tucking his hands into the pockets of his coat. 

Chuuya nodded, “A few, I’m expecting another one soon.”

“Oho? And what would that be?” Dazai teased.

“Kyoto, I hope.”

Dazai smiled, “I’m sure you’ll get in.”

Chuuya looked up, “What about you? Where are you going?”

Slowly, Dazai’s smile faded. Immediately Chuuya knew they wouldn’t be going to the same school. 

“My parents want me to go to Tokyo,” Dazai said with a slight frown. 

Chuuya nudged his shoulder, “Hey, that's a really good school. Have you been accepted?” 

“Got my acceptance letter yesterday. I was hoping I’d be rejected so I wouldn’t have to go.”

“It is far,” Chuuya said, tucking his head down.

Dazai squeezed his arm, trying to comfort him. “We can still call and text each other,” He whispered. 

“Yeah,” Chuuya said, trying to keep himself from crying. “Kind of sad that as soon as we become friends we get separated. Maybe the universe has something against us.”

When Dazai smiled, Chuuya knew he was hurting too. There were a million words behind that smile, and Chuuya knew all of them like lyrics to his favorite song. This smile wasn’t like the ingenuine ones Dazai plastered across his face when he wanted to hide his emotions, because, unlike that smile, this one is real. It’s real and it's not even a happy smile, how disappointing.

“Maybe,” Dazai began to walk closer, “But you’ll still be my best friend even six hours away.” 

“What was that? Say that again,” Chuuya said with a smile just as fake as the rest.

“You’re my best friend, Chuuya. How would you not be? It's not like I have any others.”

“Mhm..”

Dazai sighed, “And even if I did have others, you’d still be my best friend.”

Chuuya flashed him another smile. Best friend . He was happy with that. Nothing more, nothing less, it was okay. They were okay. 

“You’re my best friend, too.”

—

The dorm room was stuffy and uncomfortable, Dazai thought. Nothing like Chuuya’s room. He didn’t even stop to question why he compared it to Chuuya’s room and not his own, the answer was obvious.

That summer, after Chuuya had gotten his acceptance letter for Kyoto (and unfortunately, a rejection from Tokyo) the two spent each second they had with each other. 

They stayed up watching movies (and of course, got yelled at by Kouyou for it), went to the beach countless times, and even got a summer job together. 

Because they would be apart for so long, they needed to compensate for it. They became even more attached to each other than they were before, which almost seemed impossible. 

At night, Dazai slept next to Chuuya peacefully. He still didn’t get much sleep, but the sleep he got with Chuuya was much more than he’d ever gotten before. 

In the morning they made pancakes for each other and insulted each other’s cooking skills, then they went off to their jobs or some other place where they could be together. 

Dazai frowned at the thought. They were together the entire summer, yet they would never be together in the way he wanted them to be.

He wondered if Chuuya ever noticed the way he looked at him. Maybe he caught on to the fact that Dazai liked him and was too afraid to say anything because he also didn’t want to ruin their friendship.

Maybe there was the smallest chance Chuuya liked him back and had the same fear he did, but Dazai highly doubted that. Chuuya was confident and not afraid to lose anything, so why would that change for Dazai? 

It wouldn’t, that was okay.

A ding jolted Dazai out of his thoughts, leading him to check the notifications on his phone. He stepped over the boxes decorating the floor to reach his phone charging on another box placed next to an outlet. 

Chuuya: settled in alright ?

Dazai smiled at the text. At least he had one thing to be happy about. The cramped dorm room and the communal shower were dampening his mood. Chuuya’s text message was like a ray of sunshine in the middle of a storm. Not even his parents had checked in on him, not that they cared. He’d have to stay here whether he liked it or not. 

Quickly, he replied.

Dazai: u could say that. i’m not dead, is that “alright”?

Chuuya took a bit longer to reply. 

Chuuya: to you, probably not. are the dorms *that* bad??

The dorms were bad, but that definitely wasn’t the only thing ruining his mood. 

Dazai: they r even smaller than u ! and the showers stink

The dorms, the showers, the fact that he was here and not in Kyoto with Chuuya, the only person who ever made him feel like he wasn’t invisible. He wanted to cry, and he never cried. He hated his parents for sending him here and not giving him a choice. 

Dazai: i miss u

He clicked the “Send” button fast before he could delete it. He wasn’t exactly sure why he was so afraid to say it, because it was true and both of them knew it. Chuuya wouldn’t judge him for missing him because he missed him too. 

His phone buzzed again and he turned it over, expecting to see another text message from Chuuya. 

[ Chuuya is Calling]

He clicked the accept button quicker than he’d care to admit, he yearned to hear Chuuya’s voice again. 

“Hello?” Chuuya said from the other side. Dazai closed his eyes, finally letting the tension he’d had in his body all day fade away.

“Hey,” He replied, moving to sit on the mattress in the corner of the room. He needed to unpack, it wouldn’t be long until his roommate arrived, but he really didn’t want to. Especially not now.

“You sound exhausted,” Chuuya said with a hint of a smile in his voice. The thought of Chuuya smiling made Dazai smile as well. It was the first time he smiled that day.

“Hm, I wonder why,” Dazai responded. Chuuya couldn’t see him smiling but he hoped he could hear it as he did. 

“Okay smartass, just pointing it out. You all unpacked?” Chuuya asked.

Dazai looked around the room at the unpacked boxes. The only thing he’d unpacked was the stuff for his bed, which he’d only done so he could take a nap.

“...Yes?” He said eventually, even though the hesitation in his voice and the large pause before his answer made it extremely clear that he definitely didn’t. 

“You haven’t unpacked a thing, have you?” Chuuya said, and Dazai could practically sense the eye roll.

“That’s not true, I unpacked my blankets and pillow,” Dazai stated.

“Of course you did. When will your roommate arrive, do you know?”

“Shouldn’t be long…” 

“Maybe you should get unpacking then.”

“But Chuuyaaa,” Dazai whined, “Can’t I just talk to you, my one and only best friend, after an extremely exhausting day of finding my dorm room and walking all over the school to get my key and schedule for the semester?” 

Chuuya sighed, “Fine, but it's not my fault if your roommate ends up hating you because your stuff is all over the place.” 

“Yay!” Dazai cheered. “Now let's talk about your day..”

(The two talked for hours, leading Dazai to never unpack his things. Needless to say, his roommate is not particularly fond of him.)

—

3 Years Later… 

Chuuya scrolled through Dazai’s Instagram for the fifth time that morning. He scowled at his phone, hating the fact that he was so sour over one simple picture. 

A year after he and Dazai were separated for college, Dazai completely stopped responding to his messages. No calls, no texts, absolutely nothing. Dazai had no social media at the time, but Chuuya scoured the internet for any trace of him regardless. 

He texted him every morning, called him, and searched for his name countless times. This went on for months until he gave up. Dazai wasn’t going to respond, Dazai was gone. 

His one and only best friend was gone, just like that. Chuuya was upset, of course, but he tried to make himself understand. Dazai was his best friend, he wouldn’t go completely off the grid for no reason at all. It probably had something to do with his parents. Chuuya never met them but from what he had heard, he didn’t like them at all. 

They made Dazai cut contact with Chuuya, it was clear as day. 

Chuuya settled with this, knowing it was the truth, but it didn’t keep him from being sad. The days moved slower after that. There were no good morning texts from Dazai, no long late-night calls, and nothing for Chuuya to look forward to any longer. 

He made new friends, but they were nothing like the friend he fell in love with.

Around half a year after Dazai’s disappearance, Chuuya decided to search for his name one final time. When he did, an Instagram account appeared. It was a public account, obviously new, with only one picture posted. The picture was of a mackerel fish he had somehow caught in a lake. There was no caption, only that. 

From that, Chuuya knew it could only be him. He made a burner account to follow him in case he went private, and closed the app knowing he now had a little bit of closure. 

Now, he stared at the account in disgust. The most recent picture posted wouldn’t be much to the average person, in fact, the average person might even be happy upon seeing it. 

Chuuya, however, was not the average person. In the picture, there was a group of friends. It was the same group of friends Chuuya had seen countless times in Dazai’s other photos, so he wasn’t bitter about that.

No, the thing he was bitter about was the ring on Dazai’s left ring finger. 

Dazai had one arm around his friend's shoulder, and the other raised towards the camera to flash his shiny diamond engagement ring . 

Chuuya knew he should be happy for him, and he was. But at the same time, he was still in love with him. He was still in love with him after years of not speaking to him at all and watching his life through pictures. 

He was in love with him and of course, he was in love with someone else. 

Of course. 

Chuuya held back the tears in his eyes. It hurt, everything hurt. So why did he have to make it hurt more by opening his and Dazai’s text messages with each other? He didn’t know.

He typed out the words without thinking, but it wasn’t like Dazai would see it anyway. 

I love you. 

Three dots appeared on the left side of the screen, and Chuuya was going to cry.

I’m sorry. 

The tears came out slowly, as if a billion years of pain were finally being released. Chuuya watched as they dripped onto the screen like a sink that needed repairing. He blocked the number. 

—

Somewhere, across the world or maybe only ten minutes away, Dazai sent a text.

I love you too. 

It didn’t go through.