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upon the shattering shores

Summary:

Two surfing lovers, whose doomed relationship is nearing to a close, find themselves swept into a dimension-traversing wave that sends them into a beach movie musical in the 60's.

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aka the soukoku teen beach movie au that absolutely nobody asked for but im insane

Chapter 1: 00:00 - 15:00

Notes:

chapters split by time stamps of the actual movie

somebody help im impulse posting again. i haven't read this in six months yet im throwing it on this public forum for all to see

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

“Best day ever!” Dazai exclaimed, Chuuya's hand clasped firmly in his own.

 

Chuuya grinned up at him through his wet hair, “Yeah, it was pretty awesome, huh?”

 

“Awesome?” Dazai asked incredulously, “Surfing all day, hanging out with a wet little dog? Awesome wishes it was this awesome,” Dazai continued, earning a scoff and a punch to the arm from Chuuya.

 

“Ouch, shorty! I’m sensitive,” he pouted.

 

“Sure you are, asshole.”

 

Dazai grinned down at him brightly, not quite catching the way Chuuya’s eyes traced the curve of his smile, and how his eyes filled with worry. Chuuya had been meaning to tell Dazai his news for weeks now but he just couldn’t think of the right time to do it. Everything just seemed so perfect with him, bringing it up seemed like it would ruin what they had built up sooner than he was ready to face.

 

“Um, listen, Dazai…”

 

“Ooh, did you hear about tomorrow?” Dazai said cutting Chuuya off with another grin, not noticing Chuuya’s stiff smile.

 

“Yeah… can you believe they're talking about forty-foot waves?” The redhead grinned hesitantly.

 

“There’s a huge storm coming up from the north.”

 

“I mean, surf like that only happens here once every thirty years.”

 

“Yeah, can you imagine dropping in on a barrel that huge?” Dazai asked, releasing his hand from Chuuya’s grip and making a dramatic gesture with his hands.

 

Chuuya laughed brightly at his antics and once again took Dazai’s hand into his own as Dazai loudly exclaimed, “Summer’s not over yet!” Earning yet another laugh from Chuuya, his cheeks glowing in the sun.

 

“Come on, dumbass, I’m starving,” Chuuya said pulling Dazai forward.

 

“Race you to the house!” Dazai challenged, having already taken off.

 

Chuuya watched him go, apprehension coating his face as he slowly made his way to the entrance of his friend, and guardian for the summer, Albatross’s hut located directly on the beach.

 

Why did Dazai have to make everything so impossible?

 

Said boy stuck his arms out on either side of him with a smug grin on his face. “I clearly won.”

 

“Yeah, yeah. I let you win,” Chuuya rolled his eyes, “You’re not getting off that easy next time, Mackerel.”

 

“Whatever helps you sleep at night, Shorty,” Dazai started as he leaned in to whisper in Chuuya’s ear for the second part, “but we both know it’s those tiny little legs of yours, huh?”

 

Chuuya immediately broke out of the trance Dazai had put in him while whispering in his ear to smack him on the cheek, “As if, you ass!”

 

Dazai just grinned down at him, rubbing his newly pink cheek with his sandy hand. Chuuya smiled softly at that and whipped the sand off gently.

 

“I know you put the sand there on purpose, Dazai.”

 

Dazai looked Chuuya in the eyes, “...Yeah.”

 

“Sap,” the shorter boy laughed and dragged him into the house by the hand that was limp by his side.

 

“First thing tomorrow we hit the beach and that awesome surf, right, Cheebs?”

 

Chuuya raised his eyebrow at the altered version of his usual “Chibi” but didn’t ask any questions, instead dawning a look of worry on his face.

 

“Dazai, about tomorrow…” Chuuya started once again, only to be interrupted by the sound of a movie playing loudly in the next room.

 

“No way,” Dazai grinned, skipping over to where he heard the movie. Chuuya looked at him in desperation but soon followed.

 

What he found in the room where the movie was blaring was Albatross, cleaning up an old surfboard of his, and watching one of Dazai’s favorite movies.

 

Albatross was an eccentric man with blonde, unkept hair tied into a short braid that covered his pierced ears. No matter where he was, he never stopped wearing his tacky glasses and sleeveless hooded leather jacket. 

 

“Hey,” Dazai grinned at Albatross, sauntering up to get a better look at the TV, “I can’t believe you’re watching this without me,” he whined.

 

Albatross smirked, “Well, now that you’re here I’m not.”

 

On the TV a song was playing, singing something about a bikini wonderland while some girls were dancing on top of some boy’s shoulders. 

 

Chuuya scoffed, “Please tell me this isn’t that awful musical that you guys love so much,” he asked, knowing the answer that he was about to receive.

 

Dazai turned around to look at him, appearing utterly appalled, “Wet Side Story? It’s only the greatest movie ever made! I think you’re just uncultured, Cheebs.”

 

“Yeah,” Chuuya drawled out in an unimpressed tone, “that’s the one.”

 

“Come on!” Dazai whined, somehow still intent on getting Chuuya to love the movie even after his failed attempts and Chuuya’s begs for him to stop, “1962. Surfers, bikers. What more could you want!”

 

Albatross nodded in agreement, taking a break from his board to put his full attention on the movie playing in front of him.

 

Chuuya didn’t truly dislike the movie, it was impossible when one considered that it was the only reason that he and Dazai met in the first place, but he did think that it was one of the cheesiest things he had watched in his life—and with the fact that he was Dazai’s boyfriend, that was saying something. Regardless, Chuuya loved to tease.

 

“How can you two like this clusterfuck of a movie?” Chuuya asked, exasperated with having had to watch the thing at least ten times over (against his own free will, he may add).

 

“Chuuya!” Dazai whined again, gripping onto Chuuya’s arm like a lifeline, “A surfer guy and a biker girl share a secret love while trying to unite their rivaling gangs, as an evil real estate mogul tries to turn their hangout into a resort by building a weather machine which blows up, creating a massive storm!” Dazai exclaims animatedly and in seemingly a single breath.

 

“How can you call that a clusterfuck?”

 

Chuuya smiled fondly at him but his expression quickly turned serious. He needed to tell Dazai about this and now.

 

“Can we watch it later, Dazai? ‘Cause I really need to talk to you about something.”

 

Dazai, once again not paying any mind to Chuuya’s worried expression cut him off with a flippant wave of his hand.

 

“Just watch my favorite part!” He smiled, eyes glued on the TV, “When the two lead’s eyes meet and they're pulled apart by their rivaling gangs.

 

Chuuya rolled his eyes, “Dork,” but trained his eyes on the screen nonetheless.

 

There was a girl, an admittedly beautiful one with pale delicate features and long black hair, singing a song. The scene cuts to a handsome red-headed boy with a band-aid on his nose walking into the restaurant that the girl is singing in. The girl on stage does a twirl but ends up falling off and into the boy's arms whilst she sings about how she’s falling for a boy.

 

The scene was way too corny for Chuuya’s tastes but at this point, he couldn’t not like it because all it did was remind him of Daza’s smiling face while he explained the plot of the god-awful movie for the hundredth time or dragged Chuuya into their room to watch it before bed.

 

“And this,” Albatross shakes Chuuya’s shoulder as if he wasn’t already well aware and told him, “this is my favorite part, right here.”

 

A boy in a leather jacket storms over the red-headed boy holding the girl in his arms and tells him to, “Get your soggy surfer mitts off my sister!” And after that, a dance fight breaks out between the rival gangs.

 

Chuuya sighs, “Come on. They sing for no reason. They come out of the water and their hair is totally dry. The girls never surf as well as the boys.” Dazai and Albatross do make a noise of agreement at that, “And they sing for no reason! I need to mention that one again ‘cause it pisses me off.”

 

“But it’s always summer and everyone just surfs and sings!” Dazai argues, gesturing wildly towards the TV, desperate to defend his favorite movie.

 

At that, there was a loud knock at the door; Chuuya started walking to get it as he continued to bicker with Dazai about the stupidity of the movie.

 

“Really, Mackerel, even you have to admit that the surfing looks fake as hell! Those assholes would drown on a real wave.”

 

Chuuya put a hand on the doorknob, still talking about the logistics of how they sing and never spit out water until the door suddenly opened and he went completely silent. 

 

In the doorway was a tall, slim, young man with shockingly blonde hair that was braided along his hairline—the rest being tied up with a ribbon. He wore a three-piece suit, a nice pair of shoes that Chuuya could not name if his life depended on it, and had, what Chuuya assumed to be, an expensive brooch pinned to the lapel of his sand-colored coat. The dapper man looked completely out of place at the entrance of Albatross’s old beachfront hut.

 

“Surprise,” the intruder announced blandly.

 

Chuuya’s eyes widened with panic, and he was stopped dead in his tracks. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying to get words out, but no noise was made. His eyes darted to where Dazai was standing, waiting for Chuuya to come back in and continue their carefree summer.

 

“Well, don’t look so glum,” the man at the doorway chastised, “and stop that gaping! Aren’t you going to give your brother Verlaine a hug?”

 

The shorter boy let out a stiff sigh and reluctantly gave his brother an uncomfortable side hug.

 

“Wow, you are so… grown-up. You look absolutely,” he cut himself off halfway, “unacceptable!”

 

“What?” Chuuya questioned, looking down at himself, suddenly self-conscious, patting down his slightly damp shirt and hair, both stiff from the salt water.

 

“Oh, not you, dear,” Verlaine reassured as he continued talking into an earpiece.

 

Chuuya pinched the ends of his hair in apprehension, a nervous tick of his, and watched as Dazai walked into the room, presumably because he noticed that the new guest was acquainted with Chuuya, and was now looking at the two of them confused and slightly amused.

 

“What are you doing here?” Chuuya asked after working up the courage, “I thought you were coming tomorrow.”

 

“Well, you thought wrong,” Verlaine answered condescendingly, “We’re leaving tomorrow. I hope you’ve packed.”

 

Dazai made a small noise of alarm at that, and with confused, scrunched-up eyebrows Dazai asked, “Chuuya, what does he mean by ‘leaving tomorrow?’”

 

Verlaine turned around slowly to face the new voice as if he hadn’t noticed Dazai’s presence at all up until just now.

 

“Uh,” Chuuya started, “this is Dazai.”

 

Verlaine nodded his head in acknowledgment.

 

“Dazai, I am Chuuya’s older brother,” he shook Dazai’s hand as the ladder returned it halfheartedly, obviously barely paying attention to the older man’s words and more preoccupied with thinking about what was going on with Chuuya. “I’m sure he’s told you all about me.”

 

Dazai nodded slowly at him—he had not heard a word about Verlaine in his life, but that fact was only a small itch in the back of his mind at the moment—after he was done with Verlaine, he immediately directed his attention toward his boyfriend.

 

“Chuuya,” he started, sounding even more alarmed and confused this time, “what does he mean by ‘leaving tomorrow?’”

 

Before Chuuya got the chance to answer, Albatross walked over, going up to hug Verlaine.

 

The blonde opened his arms, coaxing Verlaine into a hug, “Welcome home!”

 

“Oh,” Verlaine responded, voice filled with disdain, “Hello there, Albatross. I see you’re still making surfboards…”

 

He made no move the meet Albatross halfway with the hug offering as his gaze traveled upward, toward the board mounted on the wall, the red and yellow one with a red flower painted on it.

 

“Oh, don’t tell me.” Verlaine sighed, his voice adopting that chiding lilt that he so often used. “You still have that?”

 

Chuuya furrowed his brows in resigned annoyance at his brother’s comment.

 

“Still have it? Come on, we all grew up with the legends about that board. It’s part of the family.”

 

Albatross nodded in agreement. “Me, Pianoman, Doc, Iceman, and Lippmann; we each found our destiny on it.”

 

Verlaine scoffed at that and turned toward Chuuya.

 

“There is only one way to ‘find’ your destiny, Chuuya. And that is to…?” He placed his hands on his little brother’s shoulders gently, “Work hard for it.”

 

Chuuya resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

 

Taking advantage of the temporary lapse in conversation Dazai cut in, panic lacing his voice, “Okay, all right. Chuuya,” he started desperately, “what does he mean by ‘leaving tomorrow?’”

 

Verlaine turned to face him before Chuuya can get a word in, “Dazai,” Verlaine smiled softly, though there was some undecipherable in his eyes, “as of tomorrow, my brother will be attending the exclusive, overpriced, and, did I mention exclusive, Ermitage International School Of France.”

 

Dazai just stared while Chuuya looked around the room at anything but his eyes, trying to come up with the right response.

 

Before he could think one up, Albatross cut into the silence, “Ah, Verlaine, we should talk about this, please.”

 

Verlaine walked forward, getting uncomfortably close to him, and with a clearly annoyed tone, he said, “There is nothing to talk about. This has always been the deal.”

 

Albatross struggled for words while Verlaine turned to face Chuuya.

 

“Isn’t that right, brother?”

 

Chuuya’s eyes flickered between his brother’s scrutinizing gaze and his boyfriend’s desperate and confused one…

 

“Sure.”

 

He made sure not to look at the new expression that was surely painting Dazai’s face— he knew he wouldn’t be able to take it.

 

“It’s just that, um…” he swallowed thickly, “tomorrow there are these extreme conditions I’ve been waiting my entire life to surf—”

 

“Surf?” Verlaine cuts him off, “Oh, sweetheart. Your new life begins tomorrow.”

 

Chuuya’s eyes drifted to Dazai’s, but Dazai wasn’t looking at him anymore, his eyes were trained on the ground next to his shoes.

 

Verlaine began again, his hand gripping Chuuya’s shoulder slightly tighter than what would be considered comfortable or comforting, “Your endless summer has… It's come to an end.”

 

Chuuya’s eyes didn’t leave Dazai’s face as panic started to bubble in his throat. He tried to analyze Dazai’s expression, figure out exactly how he felt about this, but his newly adopted expressionless face that Chuuya hadn’t seen in so long had taken over.

 

It had been such a lovely summer.

 

Chuuya swallowed the bile in his throat and made his way outside, pushing past Verlaine, not sure what to do with all of his confusing emotions.

 

 


 

 

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” Dazai exclaimed hotly, making his way to where Chuuya was sitting on the porch railing and gripping the book in his hand tightly.

 

Chuuya looked up at him incredulously.

 

“You don’t understand how hard I tried. Every time I worked up the courage to tell you, you just went on to talk about the rest of the fun stuff we were gonna do and I just… I didn’t know how.”

 

“You’re leaving?” Dazai asked, crestfallen, “Just like that?”

 

Chuuya averted his gaze from Dazai and onto the ground in front of him.

 

“Why are they making you do this?” He questioned desperately, hand reaching out to grab Chuuya’s.

 

The latter sighed and pulled his hand away.

 

“They’re not making me. It’s my choice.”

 

“So change your mind!”

 

“There’s not enough time,” Chuuya exclaimed.

 

Then, quieter, “My flight leaves at noon tomorrow.”

 

“How can you leave? This is your home!” Dazai explained desperately, “It’s where your family is, it’s where you surf…”

 

“It’s where I am, Chuuya.”

 

“I was really lucky to get into this school, Dazai. And my brother says it’ll pave the way to my future.”

 

Dazai rolled his eyes, annoyed and Chuuya let out an angry sigh.

 

“I know you’re upset, Dazai! And I know that I should’ve told you, but I just didn't know how!” Chuuya sighed solemnly, calming down. “If you could just support me in this, that would make it so much easier. You know how good this will be for my future.”

 

“Okay…” Chuuya could tell by Dazai’s expression that he wasn’t ready to stop arguing, regardless, he conceded for now, “what was this deal your brother was talking about?”

 

Chuuya sighed, a lump forming in his throat, “After we lost Verlaine’s husband, Rimbaud, the deal I made with my brother was that I could stay here with the Flags for the first part of high school. And then, when it was time to get serious, I would leave with my brother and go to this school, just as he did.”

 

“So he just shows up to take you away?” Dazai grabs Chuuya’s free hand, “Aren’t you happy here?”

 

Chuuya ignored his question, opting to look down at the book in his hand and then back up to Dazai.

 

“This was Rimbaud’s journal…”

 

A lapse of silence passed through them before Chuuya decided to read him an excerpt.

 

“He wrote, ‘most of all, I dream that my brother-in-law becomes a great success. That he isn’t just pulled through life, but marches through it, triumphantly.’”

 

Dazai smiled softly at him.

 

“He wanted to go to college and make something of himself, but he died before he had the chance.”

 

“That’s not your fault, Chuuya.”

 

“No, I know it’s not, but I also know I can do what he never had a chance to do.”

 

“You don’t have to be what your brother is. Chuuya, you can be anything you want.”

 

Chuuya growled, “Dazai, you don’t understand! I have to do this.”

 

He tore his hand from Dazai’s vice grip and made his way toward the door back inside.

 

Before he could reach it, Dazai grabbed his arm.

 

“What about us?” He asked, searching Chuuya’s face for any ounce of doubt he might have in this decision.

 

All he found was a clouded sadness.

 

“...How can there be an ‘us’ after today?”

 

Dazai shook his head desperately, “No, no. Chuuya, I’ll wait for you.”

 

“I know what it feels like to miss someone, Dazai. And I care about you too much to ever put you through that.”

 

“So, you’re saying you care about me enough to break up with me?” Dazai questioned, his face contorted into a pained expression. “Chuuya, I need you.”

 

“I don’t want to, Dazai, but… What choice do I have?”

 

Dazai looked at him as if he had just slapped him in the face. The redhead closed his eyes preparing for Dazai to walk away and not wanting to watch, but, when he heard no footsteps, he opened them. Dazai was still right there, standing in front of him, eyes filled with some unnamed emotion.

 

Chuuya walked closer to the taller boy and cupped his cheeks, tears threatening to spill out of his eyes.

 

Dazai melted into the touch involuntarily.

 

“Thank you, Osamu.” Chuuya laughed breathily. “For the most awesome summer of my life.”

 

They kissed, then. Slowly and softly, as if trying to memorize each other’s lips, trying to make it last as long as possible. Chuuya smiled wetly as he pulled back, hand still on his boyfriend’s cheeks.

 

“I wish it wasn’t over.”

 

When Dazai said nothing in response, he walked back inside the house.

 

 


 

 

It was the next morning, Chuuya and Dazai hadn’t spoken since the other night, the both of them opting to eat dinner alone, and Chuuya was almost done packing his things.

 

The last two things that he had to put away were Rimbaud’s journal and a framed picture of him and Dazai laughing together on the beach. He looked at the two of them, expression filled with melancholy, and he put them in a box that he would leave at Albaross’s place.

 

Walking out of his room, he was immediately met with his family’s surfboard, reminding him of the once-in-a-lifetime waves he was about to miss out on. In a moment of a possibly awful lapse in judgment and a last-minute realization that this was his only chance, Chuuya quickly wrote a note:

 

Back in time for the flight. -C

 

He changed into a bathing suit, grabbed the red and yellow surfboard, and made his way to the beach.

 

 


 

 

The sky was dark with clouds and the wind was whipping through his hair which was pulled back in a ponytail. He watched as other guys tried to surf the rough waves, starting to get excited to one-up them all. Surfing made him feel alive—it was exhilarating. The way his adrenaline spiked every time he got ready to surf a massive wave and the pride he felt every time he made it was intoxicating. The thought that this was going to be his last surf before he got rusty from the preppy boarding school in France made his skin itch.

 

Right as he was about to run into the ocean he heard a familiar voice next to him speak.

 

“S’up,” Dazai said, obviously attempting to seem casual. He couldn’t fool Chuuya; he saw the sorrowful glint in his eyes.

 

“Dazai…” Chuuya commented, confused. “How’d you know I was gonna be here?”

Dazai, unbeknownst to Chuuya who was staring at the ocean, gave him a soft smile, “I knew you couldn’t stay away from surf like this.”

 

Chuuya shrugged.

 

“Dazai, I’m glad you came, but I told you—”

 

“I just came to watch you surf,” Dazai cut him off, “not to propose.”

 

Chuuya nodded hesitantly. He kind of wished that Dazai was here for something more, but only in the back of his mind. He wasn’t going to spend his last hour here wallowing over his soon-to-be past boyfriend. He had other things to attend to. He shook off all the negative feelings clouding his thoughts and just hyperfocused on the badass waves he was about to surf.

 

“Okay,” Chuuya grinned wildly at Dazai, “check out what I’m about to do.”

 

The taller boy watched him go, noting how the, albeit, faintly showing through the clouds, sun complimented the fiery red hair that bounced behind him as he ran off to the ocean.

 

Dazai could feel the excitement radiating off him. It gave him a bittersweet feeling in his chest. He just couldn’t comprehend why Chuuya would want to leave his heaven. Dazai knew how free his boyfriend felt while he was surfing. How could he just throw that away because of some posh school in France?

 

His negative thoughts were soon interrupted by the sight of Chuuya surfing one of the biggest waves he had ever seen. God was that boy mesmerizing. That boy that he would never see again. That boy who would soon become just a reference on his resume—banished to the deepest, darkest parts of his mind that longed for an escape. But that was beside the point, Dazai shook himself off, he was just happy that one of his last memories of Chuuya was going to be the boy, looking absolutely stunning, doing the thing that he loved most.

 

His thoughts were, once again, interrupted—this time by Albatross who had, evidently, come out to watch Chuuya surf as well.

 

“Dazai,” the older man nodded.

 

“You gotta see this,” Dazai pointed out to where Chuuya was, “he’s ripping it.”

 

“Mhm… I’m not sure I like the looks of this sky, Dazai.”

 

At that, Dazai brought his eyes upwards. He knew that it was cloudy out but he hadn’t noticed how dark it was getting until Albatross had pointed it out. The wind was far too strong and it just smelled like a nasty storm was coming; and fast.

 

“You’re right,” Dazai commented as he watched more and more surfers struggle to stay up on the increasingly rough waves. “He’s gotta get in. This looks bad.”

 

At that moment, the lifeguard started waving a red flag, indicating everyone in the water had to get out. Dazai watched as all the surfers made their way back to shore… all except Chuuya.

 

“What is he doing?” Dazai asked, urgency lacing his voice.

 

“That boy has never been one to take orders from someone else, even if it’s the only logical thing to do,” Albatross commented with a sigh.

 

It was definitely storming now, the waves were intense and towering, and all the surfers who had come in were watching with anticipation, waiting for the last boy out there to just come back. Dazai was getting antsy. The sound of waves crashing, the wind bellowing in his ears and whipping through the trees, the way the lifeguard kept blowing his whistle, practically begging Chuuya to not be so stubborn just this once. Everything was piling up and increasing Dazai’s nerves until he couldn’t take it anymore.

 

In a panic and with his adrenaline at a peak, Dazai ran to get a jet ski to go and get his dumb-ass boyfriend the fuck out. There was no way in hell he was just going to watch Chuuya do this.

 

He forwent a life jacket, a poor decision in hindsight, but he was in a panic and pushed the closest jet ski he could find close enough to the water to hop on. Luckily, nobody seemed to mind his blatant stealing of some stranger's jet ski, they were more worried about Chuuya.

 

It was a struggle to get as far out as Chuuya had gone, the huge waves dismissing all of the progress that he was making, but Dazai was too determined to let that stop him. He supposed that must be how Chuuya felt about surfing one of these waves at that moment as well.

 

Once he got close enough for the redhead to hear, Dazai yelled “Come on, don’t do it! Just come in Chuuya! This is too dangerous, even for you!”

 

“No, you don’t get it! I have to!” Chuuya screamed over the whipping wind.

 

“Just come in, Chuuya! Please!”

 

Said boy just shook his head and turned around to go further out. Dazai could see the tense determination in his set shoulders. He watched as one of the biggest waves he had ever seen began to form right in front of the two of them.

 

“Chuuya!” Dazai screamed in warning.

 

He knew there was no way out of this for either of them, though, and before the two could do anything, they were both taken under the strong current.

Notes:

expect VERY slow updates. i started this seven months ago and this is the first i've worked on it in six months