Chapter Text
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1.
“Do you want to hear something interesting, Fancy Hat?”
His humming pauses as he stops in his tracks. Even though being a high school senior comes with heavy responsibilities and the dread of university entrance exams, his body feels so light and refreshed recently. It’s like he has so much energy coursing through him, that he could take on several delinquents in a row and still play a full soccer match afterwards.
“Great Detective,” he greets with a nod. He may have his annoyance with this person, but he still remembers how this guy has been able to humble Dazai into defeat during last year’s School Festival, where they have participated in a Deduction Battle.
He hasn’t witnessed it personally, since he’s busy taking the soccer team through a prefectural championship at that point, but he’s heard of various rumors, about how Dazai has publicly conceded. Something about Edogawa managing to unearth Dazai’s deepest desires, and how Dazai had to concede so that it wouldn’t be revealed?
In any case, Chuuya has a lot of respect for this guy because of that. Dazai’s deepest desires must be of catastrophic level of nonsense, so being able to unearth such knowledge must cause mental pollution. To be able to withstand such a thing is truly admirable.
As expected of someone smart, his gossip is top-tier. Without further ado, “Dazai-kun is becoming really good friends with that Dostoevsky.”
There are many things that make Chuuya happy, but this is one of the best news he’s ever received this year. “Really?! Thank fucking god that finally happened.”
Thing is, ever since those two scrubs have graduated, he’s been somewhat worried about Dazai. Well, not that worried. Just the slightest, tiniest bit, the type that’s normal to feel over someone he’s known for years.
That shitty mackerel is worse than a brat, and if he has less targets for his nonsense, then that would mean that Chuuya would have to bear the brunt of making sure that idiot doesn’t do anything too bad. It’d be best if that fucker gets more friends who wouldn’t succumb to the mental pollution of dealing with his bullshit.
“Oho? You’re actually happy to hear this?”
“Of course!” He’s in a much better mood now. Come to think of it, that’s probably why he’s been feeling more refreshed recently. If those two have become good friends, then they’re busy hanging out with each other, which means they’d stop looking for him to annoy him or monologue to him about the sun, blue skies, his eyes, stars, yadda, yadda. With full sincerity, “I think that they’d make for really good friends.”
They’re of similar level of genius, after all. They could cackle creepily while glaring at each other over coffee. Chuuya really hopes that they become such good friends that they’d rather not spend time with anyone else, and therefore would stop trying to pull him to join them in their antics.
Unfortunately, one of the things that he’s realized over the years is that as long as that shitty mackerel exists, he’s bound to cause him headaches, one way or another. That, and the mere fact of thinking or talking about him is enough to summon him to existence.
When Chuuya reaches the library, it’s to the horrifying sight of Dazai actually seated down, surrounded by books. He’s even wearing glasses, uniform buttoned all the way up to his throat. With hair tucked in behind his ear, his mouth zipped shut and his posture prim and proper, he looks the very image of a model student. In fact, he’s even seated right beside the window, getting ample lighting as though he’s in a photoshoot.
Faintly, he thinks that he must have been a soldier or a mafioso in his previous life, because his first instinct is to want to shoot this alien impostor. Who the fuck is this well-behaved clone and why does he smell so fishy???
Then, his gaze swivels to the person seated in front of Dazai.
Oh.
“Is this the power of friendship?”
Fyodor Dostoevsky, Russian transfer student who has apparently decided to stay in Yokohama for the foreseeable future, after deeming it a place worthy of stars, something something, blah blah blah. He’s like Dazai minus the tendencies to scavenge poisonous mushrooms and dive to random rivers, but with an added tendency to have longer monologues, and a better fashion sense since he also likes wearing hats.
Perhaps this person’s more serious outlook towards studying—or at least, pretending to study—has influenced Dazai?
“We made a bet,” Dazai explains, adjusting his glasses like he wants to draw attention to it. “The person who’d take first place in the midterms would have an advantage as to who would confess first.”
“…Huh.”
On one hand, it’s nice to hear that Dazai is finally motivated to study more. Even if he’s only playing the part now—the Physics book in his hands has a manga tankobon discreetly tucked inside, after all—it’s at least a step in the right direction. On another hand, what about his Number 2 spot?! He’s working so hard to maintain that ranking and now it’s endangered by these two’s bet?!
“I understand that a principled person like yourself would find it unpalatable. It also pains me to have to taint the glory of the pursuit of knowledge,” Dostoevsky cuts in, raising a hand to his chest like he’s having heart palpitations. “But in order for me to properly pursue you, I am willing to wage a bet with Dazai-kun here.”
He frowns, headache blooming on instinct. It’s probably a self-defense mechanism that he’s honed over the years, shielding his mind from fully taking on the brunt of nonsensical words from Dazai. It turns out that Dazai is really quite similar to Dostoevsky, that his mind has enacted a similar barrier.
The use of the word ‘pursuit’ when it comes to him has a great variety of meanings. He’s used to being called out by delinquents who want to test their strength against him. He’s used to racing against Albatross, and therefore has to be ‘chased’.
Back in the day, Shirase had so many admirers that girls chasing after him had to pass their love letters to his hands in hopes of beating the queue; they were smart too, addressing the envelope to ‘Nakahara Chuuya’ to fend off suspicion. Or at least, that’s what Dazai has deduced and told him. (Unfortunately, Shirase didn’t believe such a thing and they had a major disagreement about it, since Shirase misunderstood and thought that he was rubbing his popularity into his face.)
…In any case, ‘pursuit’ has different meanings to him.
That said, because Dostoevsky is similar to Dazai, it must mean that he has similar brain circuits. Therefore, ‘pursuit’ in this case probably means confessing to him that Dostoevsky wants to be a better friend to Dazai and ask him for information about his favorites or something.
That’s… fine with him? He thinks that Dazai’s favorites and quirks must be really obvious, but if someone wants to know more about him, then he doesn’t mind telling them all about the other’s shit. He has nearly a decade’s worth of information, after all.
He needs to clear up one thing first though. “I don’t really care if you’d use exams for bets.” In fact, that’s something that he’s done with Dazai before too.
Dostoevsky nods without changing his expression, and without the whiplash from slapping himself with his own previous words. “Exams are merely a trifle, you are correct. It does not matter if we use it in our bets.”
“Chuuya, I’ve slept through Physics class, so I’m borrowing your notes,” cuts into their conversation. And then, Dazai readjusts his glasses and smiles. “Oops, I already took it directly from your locker, because I know you so well that I know your locker combination too.”
He rolls his eyes. “Isn’t that because you keep on stealing my snacks from my locker?”
“Uh-huh. If you keep on hiding biscuits in your locker, won’t it be overrun by ants, insects and other pests?” Dazai, in a show of friendship, keeps on staring at Dostoevsky as he says this. “I’m just doing you a favor by eliminating them before they could climb all over you.”
“Chuuya-san’s sweetness seems effective enough in attracting bees. Ones that would immediately perish after—”
“—oi, you actually stole my biscuits and brought them here!” His gaze zeroes in on Dazai’s lap, where a familiar packaging lies. “This is the library! You can’t bring snacks here!”
“I want to study, but I’m too hungry to think,” Dazai says, utterly shameless. “How about it? I’ll study in your bedroom while you cook dinner for me?”
Isn’t that how it usually goes though? Well, not the studying part. But whenever Dazai can’t mooch off food from his older friends—who are now off in university, lucky them being able to be far away from a plague—the mackerel would take advantage of his fathers’ absence and trick him into cooking for him.
“Are you really going to study?” He squints, trying to read the other’s lies.
Dostoevsky chimes in. “May I join too, Chuuya-san? I know that you have consistently ranked within the top 4 each time, so I wish to learn from an expert.”
Dazai makes a face that’s so incompatible with the ‘gentle scholar’ aura he’s fakely exuding earlier. Chuuya, on the other hand, feels himself sparkling.
Ha! See! He may not be the number one on the rankings, but there are good kids who can see that he’s actually good at studying!
He agrees to this arrangement and brings the two back to his home. This way, he could also supervise the two’s budding friendship. He has firsthand experience of how annoying Dazai could get; since Curry Man and Stressed Glasses aren’t around, he’d help smooth over Dazai’s friendship with others, on their behalf.
Isn’t this just like Seishirou from The Boy and Dog?! Ah, isn’t this great! He’s living his idol’s words!
With that in mind, he doesn’t even protest all that much when the two kept on sandwiching him in the dining table that has also doubled as their ‘study table’.
The only problem is that, he has the tendency to bite his pen whenever he’s concentrating, but the two keep on borrowing his pens! And at the end of the ‘study session’ all of his pens are gone! What kind of tasteless prank is this?!
But it should be fine, right…? He’s doing a good deed, right…?
Unfortunately, a few weeks later, Chuuya stands in front of the results posted in front of the faculty office. Dazai and Dostoevsky are both tied at the number one spot, both with perfect marks.
Dostoevsky finds him and proclaims, “It is all thanks to Chuuya-san’s hard work of tutoring me. In fact, I would like to invite you on a date so I can show my appreciation.”
On his other side, “Chuuya! I worked so hard for so long, so you have to pamper me with l-love and crab cakes!”
Chuuya looks at his #3 spot, pushed down by the duo flanking him. He is five marks off the perfect score. He remembers that the last question is worth five points, and he couldn’t finish it because his pen died before he could write down his answer.
He closes his eyes and thinks, this is definitely shitty Dazai’s fault!
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to be continued;