Chapter Text
He wasn’t crazy. He knew he wasn’t. But when everyone claimed to not see the redhead that seemed to always be near, he couldn’t help but feel as though he really wasn’t in his right mind.
Dazai Osamu had been sent to the mental institute (insane asylum, his brain handily provided) after not taking enough sleeping pills to rid himself of this dreary world. It had been a mere three days ago, but since then, he had not only proven himself to be suicidal, but also that he was a schizo. God really did hate him, didn’t he?
In Dazai’s opinion, this entire situation was completely unfair. It’s not like he asked to be put in the same room as the creepy redhead that always stared at him with those big blue eyes. When Dazai had seen the small boy for the first time, he had asked Ozaki-san (referred to as Ane-san by everyone) about it.
“I thought I wasn’t supposed to have a roommate,” he had said.
“You’re not,” Ane-san confirmed, “Did Shibusawa-san maybe make a mistake when assigning your room?”
Dazai nodded, “There’s a tiny redhead in there who does nothing but stare at me. It’s getting on my nerves.”
Ane-san furrowed her eyebrows, “I don’t believe we have a patient that aligns with such a description. Please show me to your room.”
And Dazai did, but Ane-san didn’t see the boy. She just sighed and told him to inform her if he kept on seeing the boy who was apparently not actually there.
Dazai sighed, sitting up on his bed to face the kid, “So do you just sit and stare all day, or do you actually do stuff?”
The redhead just tilted his head.
“Oh my God!” Dazai exclaimed, “What a descriptive answer! I could cry tears of joy…” he went on to dab at his eyes as though he were actually about to cry.
The redhead pursed his lips, a look of annoyance crossing his face.
So the boy could understand him, hm?
“Sooo,” Dazai hummed, “are you real or are you just some weird slug that my brain produced?”
The boy shot him a look of offense.
Dazai held up his hands in defense, “Hey, calm down. I mean what do you expect me to think when I’m in a mental institute happen to be seeing something that nobody else is seeing.”
The boy let out a silent huff before turning away from Dazai. He faced the headboard of the bed he was sitting on, lightly tracing something on the wood with his pale finger. After a few seconds, the redhead looked back at Dazai with those big, blue eyes.
Understanding what the boy was trying to convey, Dazai got off of his own bed and walked over to where the boy was sitting. The boy slid over to the edge of the bed, making room for Dazai to sit down.
As Dazai sat on the bed, he couldn’t help but shiver. Something about the air around the boy just seemed… cold. Dazai shrugged off the feeling and looked over at the headboard. Engraved in the wood were a couple of words. It had clearly been at least a century since the words had been carved in.
“Nakahara Chuuya,” Dazai read aloud. He then looked at the boy, “Is that your name?
” The boy, Chuuya, nodded, smiling brightly.
Dazai grinned, “Great! I’m being haunted by a tiny, hundred year old ghost named Chuuya.”
Chuuya pouted lightly, holding up a number two with his thin fingers.
Dazai scoffed, “Sorry, I’m being haunted by a tiny, two hundred year old ghost.”
Chuuya sighed but still put his hand down, shrugging.
The bell then rang, signaling for breakfast to start, as well as the daily pill(s) intake.
Dazai sighed and stood up, “Well, I suppose I’ll see you later, yeah, Chuuya?”
Chuuya nodded, smiling a bit. Once Dazai left, his smile vanished.