Chapter Text
Arthur Rimbaud hated the cold. Born as an anemic boy he was always a victim of the snow-nymph Khione. Her chilling laughter would always leave Arthur a shivering mess. Being iron deficient has lead him to truly value those fashion designers who specify in artic wear. As a young boy he favored those puffy fur coasts and skirts. They had provided him optimus for those short years of him boyhood. Even now, reminiscing in the past. Arthur can feel the comforting feeling of his artic wear. Never again has he own such fine fur coats.
But he's trying to distract himself isn't he? While it is true he did not fancy the cold. There was only one thing he dreaded more in this world than the cold itself.
Arthur Rimbaud did not like parties.
No, in fact. Arthur Rimbaud hated parties. He hated the loud music. Hated the tight space he was thrown into. True that a room full of people did generate more warmth, but it did nothing but make Arthur more claustrophobic. Throw in a bunch of desperately horny teens and you make his hatred worse.
Now, most people his age did not attend middle school parties. Infact, such activities would raise eyebrows if it weren't for the fact that Arthur was a grade school teacher.
Chaperon duty is always a chore. He has to stay after hours, wear his nice coat, and keep an eye on a certain specimen. It was a duty that every teacher scattered around. Though the headmaster does his best to bribe people into this role. He knows half of the staff are missing out on chaperone duty. Laughing behind his back while pretending to pity and envy him to his face.
Arthur shivers. He hates the cold. He hates parties almost as much as he hates the cold. Those streamers blowing against the air vents, visualizing the cool breeze—do not make his harted any less trivial.
Arthur looks around the gymnasium. He doesn't take in the alien beauty of those poorly glued together decorations. He was sadly one of the poor adults forced to army around a dozen or so chairs and tables. All of which have been heavily decorated by the student council committee. The chairs have poorly tied ribbons as embellishments, with paper bags as sorry party gifts.
"H-hey! 1-2-3 that enough for me!"
There, moping around the punch bowl is the main reason Arthur is chaperoning tonight. That specimen stood there, mimicking a dog awaiting its owners return.
He sighs. Why can't the headmaster see neither he nor his nephew want to be here?
Dazai tries to drown himself in the punch bowl. He whines about being abandon and lied too — all of which Arthur ignores as he cleans the teen off and throws away the syrupy punch.
At least the kid smells better now. The air around Dazai is actually breathable.
"Rando-Sensei~ Just let me end my misery!"
Arthur isn't moved by pleading. "Your uncle would be cross with me."
Dazai frowns, his eye patch tinted pink by the punch. "Mori is always upset! It's like he has a stick up his ass." Arthur opens his mouth to reply. While also has his issues with his boss, as any sane man should. Arthur does hold a sort of admiration towards the doctor.
"Dazai—"
Before any scolding can be done. There is a person manifesting himself into their conversation. "Rando-Sensei. Bonsoir."
Speaking of the devil.
"Kocho-Sensei." Arthur huddles into his jacket. Silently, he is thankful for the installed heating pads. They were really worth this year's purchase. Top of the line, ensure to keep him safe through even the colder face of the year.
Beside him Dazai perks up, his previous act of a broken heart boy gone and replaced by an analogous to that of a doll. This always happens, and Arthur can't quite put a pin on it but he has always hated babysitting duty because of that comparison. It is one that never fails to put Arthur into a fleeting mood. It's as if a noose has been tied around his neck; ready to be pulled by the slightest movement from the small boy. Arthur can just feel a storm brewing simply by seeing that inhumane face.
After a long second Arthur bows. "Good evening." His green eyes shift to Dazai. Taking his cue Dazai bows as well.
"Mori."
Said made laughs. Mori Ougai was a man of many faces. Today he only wore two; that of a headmaster of Yokohama Port Academy and one of a guardian. Shamelessly he carried his four year old in his arms, one would not think this man to be the Uncle to Dazai Osamu. Like a tree surrounded by bushes Mori is very out of place at the school with his white lab coat and ungroomed hair. His fellow vice principal is standing behind him, his eyes closed while Mori has his wide open. Taking in all the work the students put into the fall ball. "Please make sure to enjoy yourself Rando." Mori looks at his daughter who was busy munching on a slice of cake and then spares a glance to Dazai. "I'm sure you'll enjoy the sweets our students have to offer. They might remind you of home."
He smiles. Aware that Mori knows it's ingenious. Arthur is also apprehensive; Dazai is watching him with that look which never fails to sends his neck hair into a nervous reck. "I'll surely give them a try." He lies. Knowing nothing in this country would compare to his cities handmade pastries. Nothing could ever taste like the home he once had.
By seven most students are being dropped off. The rows and rows of food are swamp by kids in country get up. Most chaperons have arrived too. Students who came together are huddle by the DJ stand, making queue for songs they'd like to dance too.
None of those students include Dazai. Arthur sits with the fact that he might just have to hang out with the boy till the party ends. Dazai himself is glaring at his phone — most definitely insulting his date for standing him up. Not that Arthur or the school could blame the poor kid, Dazai was a nightmare personified.
When Dazai stands and leaves to get a better signal students who had been intimidated by his awful stench swarm Arthur, seemly amused to see him around. Some of them express concern, knowing he is always cold. He's thankful, but makes sure to keep Dazai within his eyesight.
"Sensei could go hide, we'll cover for him." A six grader from the elementary school wing tells him. He raises a brow to her presence but settles his curiosity when he sees her dragging around her older brother. Said older brother huffs when he tries and fails to escape her grip. He's not any better off than Arthur is with that giant black coat of his.
Arthur laughs. "I'm fine Gin-San. Thank you though, I'll consider it."
He won't.
Soon eight a clock rolls around. Meaning this nightmare is halfway done. He pays no mind to his fellow teacher, Mister. William. The English Language coach would not get the jist. Instead he complained endlessly in that convoluted tongue of his about a guardian-chaperone no show. Arthur envy's that no-show. They made the right choice not to come.
When he spots his target moving location Arthur shifts his eyes from William and makes his way around the room.
Dazai isn't any better off then he was an hour ago. By this time the boy is laying on the floor like a star fish. A deadlook fancies his eye while he hums a song. His voice is off-key and almost unnatural to his face — it makes Arthur shiver. And this time not from the cold.
"Rando-Sensei." Dazai mumbles, very lackluster. "Can you go fetch me some punch from the table with the purple tablecloth? Thanks. "
Arthur rolls his eyes. He's a teacher. Not some babysitter. Still. Dazai gives him a look. It's smug, full of arrogance and malice — it makes him feel like there is something Dazai knows about himself that he doesn't. It certainly has an effect on him though. Seeing as he's in line, his ear being chipped off by William once again while he waits his turn for the punchbowl.
"Yond wench! Wherefore signeth up if 't be true thou art not going to both'r showing? Wasteth of space!"
Arthur hums. Not really paying much attention as light footsteps narrow him.
"Wasteth of space I tell thee!"
"Hey Rando-Sensei! Can I sign my brother in? He's busy trading insult with that stinky fish of a mackerel." Nakahara Chuuya rolls his eyes. But a fondness isn't missed by the adult. Arthur nods his head towards William Shakespeare. Who Chuuya exchanges words with while filling out a sheet.
"At last!" William exasperates. "Finally, thee two hath shown."
"Uh huh." Nakahara nods. His focus still on the clipboard. "Same back at ya Sensei."
"Kyaaaaaaa!" Across the room Dazais' shrill makes both Arthur and the teen jump. "Take that back Verlaine-San! Obviously hats are tacky as hell! You've doom Chibis love life with them already!"s
A males sigh is almost incoherent. Arthur swiftly filled the paper cup up with punch. The gym has settle — Dazai's scream scaring the other children into a stunt silence. "I've helped my precious baby brother not waste his dear time with hat hating men. They're not worthy of even looking in my brothers direction." Is said so earnestly.
Arthur feels himself stiffen at the gentlemans voice. The way the man spoke,. It had a certain weight to his voice that carried his words with a flat, expressive, but sober approach. It was something very familiar to Arthur, a voice akin to something he's heard in his dreams.
Beside him Nakahara Chuuya grumbles; his ears turning pink. "Aniki! Shut the fuck up and come sign this shitty piece of paper!"
Arthur, ever the curious man. Looks at the grown man who had been previously squabbling with a fourteen year old. Even though said man had just been cursed out by his apparent 'precious baby brother', the male didn't falter. He was still smiling as he began to walk over to them. Dazai close behind.
Now that Arthur had a better look at him, he could make out the details of this man better. His blonde hair was decently long. It was fashion in a way that spoke of high-class. The front section had been produced into a lovely French braid, while the rest was combed into a low ponytail tied off with a black ribbon. His eyes, or should he say eye seeing as the right iris was hidden under a set of bands; were a blue color that had looked almost brown under the strange lighting of the gym. Nakaharas' brother was slim, and dressed completely the opposite of the boy.
That didn't mean Arthur was blind to the family resemblance. Contrary to that. Everything about the blonde man seems to have an influence on Chuuya. Whether it be the way their hair is styled to the expensive taste of layered clothing. Even the way they stand shows that Chuuya is very influenced by his older brother.
Those comportments aside. Nakahara eyes were a more vibrant shade than his brothers; even with such unique azure eyes, under this lighting the two brothers and their shared eye color seem to glow different shades under the light. Brown and grey respectfully. While Nakahara was a redhead his brother wasn't. And while his student had a more punk deliquesce style of dressing outside of the uniform—Nakahara's brother had a very French way of presenting.
"Excuses petit frère." Said the man. His eyes shifting from Chuuya to Arthur himself.
Arthur gulped. While Nakahara had vibrant eyes. His brothers were definitely on another level. Arthur could see that right eye peaking out, trying to shine under those sandy bangs. The moment their eyes met was calamity itself to say the least. Mirrors; their eyes widen. And the mysterious older brother of Nakahara Chuuya seemed to be at a lost for words.
But his eyes spoke diligently.
So many emotions Arthur wasn't aware existed flashed within seconds. The only one standing out was oddly enough, 'Have we met?’.
"Say that again bitch?!" Nakahara screeched.
Thankfully the man wasn't off-put by his little brothers loud yelling and instead made his way across the long rows of tables towards them. Dazai was grinning, having already beaten the French dressing man.
"Langue, petit frère." Said the ever enclosing silhouette. "Apologies, Mister. My darling brother has his way with words."
"No duh!" Nakahara frowns as he hands his brother the clipboard. His stance is stern, but the way Nakahara looks at his brother is one of pride. "Or else they wouldn't have scouted me here for their Language Arts Program!"
"Awhhh~ So Chibi wouldn't be here for my dashing personality?" Dazai is systematically ignored by both brothers and Arthur alike.
Arthur chuckles. Genuinely this time. Finally he looks away from the man's face. "I see no problem with it." Did he appear to lean back? "Nakahara-San is always a diligent student." He causally adds.
The brother seems to relax at the praise. "I'm glad to hear. Chuuya has always had a way with words. Back to when he first learned to talk. Ah I remember the day as if it were yesterday. Chuuya was outside, it was the towns annual picnic and he saw the most horrendous sheep to ever be! His first words were—"
"Aniki!" Nakahara hissed.
The blonde chuckles. He finished filling the paperwork and hands it back to his brother. "Allez vous amuser alors,-" He says. The hat that had fashioned his blonde hair was removed by full enclosed gloves and placed gently on Nakahara's head. "-je me souviens de ma promesse. D'accord?"
Arthur perks up at the French. He gives Dazai a look and hands the boy the cup of punch he had requested. The boy who had been previously lifeless had a light in his eye; that light being Nakahara Chuuya.
Nakahara scoffs. He fights his brothers handsy hand away and fixes the hats position himself. Grabbing onto Dazai's wrist Nakahara-Kum begins to walk off. "Yeah Yeah, i remember my fucking' promise. You better remember yours as well!" Nakahara replies in Japanese.
"I do." Is confirmed in English. Far too late for Nakahara or Dazai to hear.
Whatever promise was made between the Nakahara's doesn't seem to settle too well with the older brother. Evident by his glare directed to Arthur's mission: Dazai.
Arthur coughs. "Vous êtes tous les deux de Fence?"
Are you both from France? He asks. He doesn't know why he asked such a question. Once the sentence had left his mouth Arthur realized it was a stupid question. Of course they were French! He wants to face palm. He could have guessed from the mens accent and Nakahara-Kun's school records.
A sort of shame fills Arthur — he wonders if he appeared stupid.
Nakahara Senior looks surprised before settling down to a look of relief. "Vous aussi?" You as well?
"Oui." He replies. His inner turmoil vanquished when those eyes settle on him once again.
Enchanting. Those eyes were very very enchanting.
"I must say, the parties little ones throw here are less than dashing." Nakahara Senior complains as he looks around the gym. Arthur stealthily realizes that Nakahara-Kun and Dazai have already run off from where they were previously eating. To not confess their love most likely. "But I do like the fact the school ask for chaperons. Although I did catch a glimpse of the menu. Rather not spare it another glance."
Arthur smirks. "Try the pastries. I was told they could rival Le Baguette and soft bread."
His fellow French gags. "Doubtful. Nothing that these tiny humans could conjure in their tiny bland kitchens could ever compare to our bread." Is said rather smugly.
"Oh mon." He amuses. "You really think so?" Arthur hums, thinking back to the last good taste of bread he's had in his station in Japan. "My, I can't really recall the last time I had true bread."
Blonde man gives him a sympathetic look. A look of understanding if you will. "Mes condoléances. While this city makes my younger brother and sister happy—I long for true bread everyday. Sometimes I consider going back just to buy some from Mlle.Alston." Arthur stuffs that information for later; Nakahara Senior was a family man.
"What part is your family traveling from?"
"Small-town, Berger." Blonde shrugs. "We moved here not so long ago. Almost two years by the summer if do recall." A dimness overtakes that blue eye. "I did love the country side, so it is a bit of a change for me." Yet they look fondly at Nakahara-Kun, who had reappeared and was busy throwing insults at Dazai. That former shadow had ignited and was now replaces with a small spark and a soft smile to go along with it. "I suppose it was the change we needed." Que the sigh. "He and Kouyou are happier here than in our small town."
Arthur feels something, something inside want to crawl out. "I hate to ask but..."
As if he already knew what Arthur was thinking the man shrugs. "My father died prior to Chuuya's birth and our mother slowly went insane if you can call it that—we have a pair of uncles who live here. That's where Chuuya gets his last name from. Nakahara." The name is almost spat on. But it's not, because Nakahara Chuuya shares that name. And this man LOVES his brother.
"Do you and your brother not share the same name?" A stupid question. But if he can find out the name of this man...
The blonde stops. His eyes widen at the realization they don't know each other's names. "Ah- My apologies. It appears I went a bit off." Extending a hand the man smiles. "Paul Verlaine. Pleasure to meet you."
Paul Verlaine.
Paul Verlaine huh?
Arthur blinks. He feels something inside him shift. It's the feeling one would get after solving a rather difficult puzzle — everything clicks. Realizing he'll make the other look stupid standing there with his hand hanging in the air Arthur quickly makes work of shaking Paul Verlaine's gloved hand. "Arthur Rimbaud. At your service."
Paul pulls back, smiling. "Charmant." He looks at his watch. "And to answer your question Monsieur, non. Chuu-Chan has our fathers name while I bare my own. It's a blessing really " He shrugs. "No confusion about which 'Nakahara' you're addressing."
Arthur nods in agreement. "So it is."
"Sensei!" Gin appears again, dragging her brother with. "Oh! Verlaine-Sensei! Bonjour!"
Paul chuckles. "It's Bonsoir, Gin-Kun. It's night now."
Gin blushes. "Oops. Bonsoir Sensei. Rando-Sensei, can you watch my brother while I go dance with Higuchi?"
Arthur blinks. Wondering why an eighth grader would need chaperoning. Gin leans in, her face sours as she looks around. "Higuchi and the tiger keep trying to dance with him, and Tachihara is too busy embarrassing himself Infront of Chuuya-Senpai too be useful."
Before Arthur can make a comment Paul is already beaming at Gin and leading the older Akutagawa by the shoulders onto a chair. "I'll make sure he stays single Gin-Kun." Paul swears.
Gin smiles. "Good."
"But." Both Arthur and Gin freeze. Paul looms over Akutagawa Ryuunosuke, who is very unamused. "Tell Tachihara to stay away from mon petit frère ."
"Oui Oui Monsieur!"
Very pleased, "Bien." Is said.
With the older Akutagawa entertained on Paul's phone Arthur raises an eyebrow. "Are you particularly concern with your brothers romantic life?"
Paul nods. "I only want what is best for my brother. May it mean moving countries or taking down governments—I want to ensure the best for my brother, and sister."
Ah yes. A sister. "Does she attend this school?"
"Kouyou is four years older than Chuu-Chan. She's already a graduate." There's a proud undertone in Paul's voice. "Chuuya is tricky though. He's rebellious — and that stupid Dazai doesn't make matters any better. I worry sometimes."
Arthur gives him an understanding look. "I teach those boys. Imagine the things they get up to in class."
Concerned, Paul mutters; "i hope nothing too intrusive." He shakes his head. "That boy sure gives my brother a run for his money." The murderous intent isn't lost on Arthur. Rather, it's almost enduring, the way a grown man can feel so much hatred for someone not even half their age.
Arthur shakes his head. "Opposite really. Dazai is the chairmen's nephew; occasionally they'll me spared from the pranks those two pull. Once they convinced the headmaster to put the heaters on max."
Paul smiles. "I wish I didn't know those too any better."
Arthur laughs, he looks down to the older Akutagawa who is secretly entertained with their talking. "Chuuya does have a way with words; sadly, he uses his gift on Dazai rather than in class."
The murderous intent is back again. "One day I'll exterminate that pest."
"Charmant." He chirps. "But sadly you'd be the first suspect."
"Not Chuuya-Chan?" Paul questions. Arthur considers it before shaking his head.
"Non. Ce serait toi. It would be you. Process of elimination, motive, witnesses-" Arthur steals a glance to Akutagawa-Kun "-that also doesn't factor in the fact Dazai probably writes about your harted of him in his diaries. And we'd be ignoring that the boy's from a prestigious upper class family... though, the fact that he is suicidal might give you a shot."
Paul grins. He moves some of his bangs away from his face, unveiling the other blue enchanting eye to the world. "Oh la la... You know your stuff Arthur. Say, what class do you teach??"
"Hm? Well. I teach history."
"I see. I was thinking law or forensics." Paul frowns. "Or perhaps French. I was hoping this school had a French program."
"That would be fun." Arthur agrees. He smiles as he looks from Paul to a group of students huddle around the tables. "I would love to hear their mispronunciation."
The other nods. "I could keep a better eye on Chuuya if it did. It would be an easy grade for my brother, his grammar and spelling are topnotch. He would leave all the younglings crying as well." Arthur blinks. Stuck on the implication. Akutagawa Gin had called Paul Sensei. Could it be that Paul taught French? If Mori did add French as an extracurricular class then the two of them could get to know each other better, they could probably see each other everyday as well..
Staring at Paul while thinking of the endless possibilities of the two getting see and learn about each other everyday meant Arthur didn't catch the scene that made the blonde loose color to his face. It was a very expressive face, expressive and enchanting even if it was a murderous look with intent. "C-Chuu-Chan!" Paul yells. "Leave room for Arahabaki in there!"
"Don't worry yourself Sensei. Dazai is too dumb to ever make a pass at Chuuya-Senpai." Akutagawa coughs as the song playing in the background comes to an end. "Plus. Chuuya-Senpai is to smart to give in to him." Dull grey eyes brighten as his sister finally returns for him.
"Nii-Chan! Let's go! Jinko wants to dance with you!"
"I thought it was banned?" Is said casually — yet there's a tiny hitch to the teens voice present that most people would have missed.
Gin looks at the two adults and smiles. "I have a girlfriend now. Her names Higuchi so.... I'm letting Ryuu-Nii go and date the ugly Jinko."
"Listen. I am not going to date that Jinko, Gin!"
As the siblings walk away and their arguing mellows down Paul is left with a sigh. "I would kill for a bottle of Gin. Dieu ait pitié." The lights control by a red haired boy with a black haired girl climbing on him shine like crazy at them. Colors that shouldn't exist violate their eyes. "Merde. These lights are begging to be stepped on."
"Agreed." Arthur chimes in. His face scrunching up as he sees Mori try to bribe the vice principal into a dance. Around them people are standing up to dance the top pop songs of their time. Dazai and Nakahara have walked off to a blind spot. With only Dazai's overgrown coat as an indicator to where they were. "Though I think I should give these things a try." His eyes shift from the two hiding teenagers to Paul. Who follows him wordlessly as they pick out the best looking cakes and treats to try out. The pair grab a few napkins, plates, spoons and forks from a nearby stand and station themselves across from the former blind spot the teenagers had use in order to hide their true intention; Dazai and Nakahara were running a gambling ring. Oh well. Arthur looks down to what is suppose to be a chocolate éclair. He cuts two sections off and hands a fork handling the bigger slice to Paul. Who gags once the éclair is within smelling distance.
"I can tell I'll come to regret this."
"Everyone comes to regrets something in their lifespan."
"If that's the case then I think you should be the first to take a bite "
"Or." Arthur suggests. "We could go on three."
Paul laughs. "I wouldn't eat this thing if it meant—" Whatever Paul was going to say is cut off by Arthur shoving his bite of Chocolate éclair into the others mouth. Paul struggles to swallow the pastry. Though there's a split second where he knows Paul considers throwing it back up over Arthur's face out of pure pettiness—thankfully, Paul relents. Arthur is glad that the blonde instead chose to swallow it. "Egh." Paul gags. "Too much salt. Here." He says, shoving down the bigger bite down Arthur's throat.
Similarly he gags. Paul's right. Too much salt. "How about the sponge cake?" Arthur asks.
"I ought to try that jelly coffee the pink haired boy brought."
"I heard he sells them around school."
"Mm. The sponge cake looks too orange. I'm glad I fed my brother before stopping by." Paul's chimes. But that doesn't stop the blonde from spooning up the edge of the cake and hovering it around Arthur's face. "Say ah, Mon Ami."
"It's," Arthur sours. Swallowing down the last bits. "-too much lemon. Rather, I think it's lime utilize rather than the lemon." Arthur picks up the plate containing Crêpes, most likely brought in by Akutagawa-Kun's boyfriend. "I've never had one of these." He admits as he cuts a triangle off.
"Not even on Crepes Day?" Paul asks as he takes a bite. "It's decent."
"Non." He replies attempting to take a bite from the Crepe.
"Non." Paul stops him. "February is coming up. Your first Crepes shouldn't be made by a blind human with ugly hair."
"Oh. So you know Nakajima too?"
"Sadly." Is the response Paul gives. "Sacrifice your taste buds for this one, I do really wish to try it." As Arthur takes a bite and is ready to criticize it, Sir. William walks over to them. His ruffle clothing giving him away.
"Thee two!" William screams. "Receiveth off thy distemperate bums and chap'ron those h'rny teens!"
Paul looks from William to Arthur. Than back to the angry brit. A look of disdain is present in those blue eyes. "Si nous devons." If we must. He shrugs.
Separated from Paul the night isn't as fun as it once was. Being with Paul, Arthur hadn't noticed how the night walked away from them. There was only twenty minutes left — and they felt like counting grains of sand on a beech. Thankfully they weren't too far apart as they were both chaperoning Dazai and Nakahara respectfully.
Arthur did as he was asked. He kept an eye on the kids and that was that. But Paul, Paul took the chaperone title to heart. It was admirable how willing the man was to complete a job. Arthur even saw Paul run towards the bathroom to fetch some paper towels for a kid who had spilled their punch.
They did have to intervene on a couple of teenage hookups. A few kids had the decency to be ashamed while other simply shrugged and went off about their night. Everytime Paul walked by, Arthur's eyes followed. And he knew, he just knew Paul's eyes were doing the same.
Ten a clock rolls around. By this point most children were being picked up. Most not including Nakahara Chuuya and Dazai Osamu.
The chaperons were packing up ready to go home. Those students on the committee were begining to clean up. Excluding the two trouble making students dubbed Twin Black.
"Attendez." Paul says as Arthur picks up a few bags of garbage. Most of which consist of paper cups and plates. "Let me, it's rather cold outside tonight."
Arthur is spellbound as he hands the bags over.
The night is soon to be over. And he'll probably never see Paul Verlaine again.
Once Paul returns empty handed from throwing out the trash the two stay close by. Not exactly talking but not exactly parting ways. With every minute Arthur feels his heart sink, like it's trapped inside an hourglass — suffering grain by grain.
"Aniki! Hurry the fuck up before someone steals my bike!"
Dazai laughs. "Who would want that ugly pink thing? It has slug germs all over it!"
"Shut it mackerel."
Paul and Arthur look around the now empty gymnasium. He wonders if Paul feels that pull Arthur feels. Like he wants to pick Paul up and put him inside a pocket, never to be let go.
"We're leaving soon petit frère ." Turning to Arthur Paul smiles. It's a nice smile. Much better than anything he's ever seen in either France or Japan. A smile that could rival many stars. "Do you happen to know how I can join the Parent Teachers Association?" Behind Paul — Chuuya facepalms.
That sinking feeling in his chest stops, and a warm sensation returns in its place. "I could give Nakahara the needed paperwork on Monday." After he fills out a form himself.
Paul leans in, and does your usual French cheek kissing. Not that is leaves Arthur blushing any less if it weren't a French thing. "Merci mon ami." And then. "Have a good night."
Enchanting, Paul Verlaine was very enchanting.
Rushing out of the school Paul doesn't bother with threatening the leech that was leaning on Chuuya the entire night. He just grabs his brother and makes a run for it.
Confused and annoyed, his brother raises a brow; Chuuya looks back to the nearly empty school as he climbs onto his beautiful and amazing pink bike. Not giving a shit about filtering himself he asks the ever daunting question. "Hey Aniki, are you in love with shitty Dazai's babysitter or something?"
Instead of answering his precious baby brothers concerns with a: No Chuuya, I'm only focused on the family right now. Paul simply sits down on the bike without complaints.
As he drives home Chuuya does his best to ignore the blush coating his brothers face.