Chapter Text
A child with hands as small as a man’s two thumbs were once used to shush its father, the cold things folded over a mouth, barely big enough to fully cover the lips it tried so desperately to seal shut.
The child was taught well. To be loud is to be in danger. It was an act to protect its father, was it not? To quiet his cries for the sake of staying safe. It was smart, for being so young. Smart enough to exhibit these learned behaviors at only the age of four. Smart enough to stop its watery-eyed father from sobbing too much, too loudly.
This child was ruined.
The realization had only sent its father over the edge, tears streaming down his pitiful excuse of a ‘sad’ face. It would be more upset in appearance if he could allow himself such a thing, but his expression has steeled itself as being hardened for far too long.
Those horribly dark eyes stared into his soul, and yet they were ever so confused. Confused as to why his father was crying. Confused as to why his father was being loud.
Every time the father looks at the boy, he sees nothing but a failure. His own mistakes plastered onto that small frame, hung for everyone to see all he has done wrong to his own child. A boy whose first words were met not with awe, but with shushing and light slaps hard enough to get the thing to quiet down.
At least, the father wants to believe that they were light. Harmless.
It is the fact that a newborn should not be hit in any manner that makes this harder to come to terms with.
His life is not worth living if he can so easily create such a monster by his own hands. A monster. There is nothing to protect, nothing to father. Just a creature that breathes like a human should, but does not cry like a child is meant to. He is not even sure if this thing can feel.
He’s created a monster.
The father wishes he had the heart to stop himself from pulling the trigger, but his life was forfeit the moment this thing was born without the love of a mother. He should have believed his wife. He should have gotten rid of the child, the demon - the moment it was deemed as such.
He wonders, with the rattle of the gun, if maybe it will cry as his body falls to the floor. If, by this, the child learns to be loud. Maybe the neighbors will hear, will see a silent child staring at a dead man who committed a heinous act in front of something so young, and take matters into their own hands. Save him. Is he salvageable?
The child did not sob, but big tears slid down small cheeks as blood stained his long white shirt, his too-big and too-saggy pants, the result of his father’s neglect.
No one came for him until it was too late.
~
Chuuya wouldn’t exactly call himself a poetry geek, but he does enjoy some poems from time to time. Time to time as in, relatively often. As long as they’re simplistic. Three sentence poems have always been his favorite. Easy to understand and incredibly short.
His lack of comprehension skills make it hard to appreciate good writing.
That’s one way (out of many) that he and Dazai are incredibly different. Dazai likes those long and boring books with big words and paragraph long sentences. Everything that’s hard to read is Dazai’s favorite kind.
Speaking of, he hasn’t seen Dazai yet that day. It only meant that he was more than expecting the tap on his shoulder despite being lost in his own world. Chuuya tilted his head back, resting his hand over the page he was left on.
Dazai smiled down at him, shifting to sit on the grass besides Chuuya. He brought his knees up, his arms resting over them as he leaned over to Chuuya’s side. He glanced over Chuuya’s shoulder to take a look at what the redhead was reading, noticing that it was one of those old poetry books from the school library.
Chuuya scooted over slightly to allow Dazai to sit easily next to him, not wasting time thinking too much about it.
Without a word, he continued to read his book, but was still aware that Dazai was right by his side. Brown hair brushing against his neck in a way that made him want to laugh at the touch, but then again, not wanting to reveal his ticklishness.
Dazai read the stanzas of poetry on the page, hardly bothered by the wind that was blowing his own hair into his face. It didn’t matter all that much to Dazai, because he was satisfied, here at Chuuya’s side, reading Chuuya’s dumb poetry.
And it was barely even eleven.
Chuuya let them sit in silence for a while longer, finishing his read through of the next two poems before marking his page and closing the book. When he moved, Dazai followed, sitting up and getting off of Chuuya’s shoulder where he had been resting.
“Your hair’s a mess. You don’t care that it’s this windy?” Chuuya huffed, reaching a hand out to brush Dazai’s hair behind his ears. He can’t imagine enjoying the feeling of it blowing in his face. He much prefers having all of his hair tied back. Plus, Dazai’s hair is starting to get long.
Way longer than it was last year. He still remembers when the idiot decided to shred it with his craft scissors.
In response to Chuuya’s hair-touching, Dazai opted to reach out and ruffle Chuuya’s in retaliation. Chuuya only swatted him away, giving a mean glare while fixing his ponytail again.
“Hey, where’s your lunch?” Chuuya looked over Dazai, scanning the ground around them to no avail. Dazai offered a halfhearted shrug, apparently not bothered by the fact that it was missing.
“Don’t give me that. You told me you were bringing your own today.” Dazai shrugged for the second time, resulting in a light punch to the side of his arm.
Just as Chuuya was about to continue scolding him for not following through, he noticed Dazai had gotten distracted by something off in the distance. On cue, Dazai smiled and tapped Chuuya’s shoulder, pointing upwards to one of the trees nearby.
He didn’t understand, at first, but after a moment he realized there was a nest that hadn’t been there the day before. (Unless he just didn’t notice that, but there’s no way).
“I think that’s a raven! No way. I was just reading a poem about ravens.” Chuuya grinned, focusing on the black bird perched in the trees. There’s not really much wildlife just around the school, and while he’s seen a whole ton of birds back here, it’s the first time they’ve got eyes on a pretty raven.
“I bet it’s gonna hatch raven babies and we’ll get to see ‘em.” Chuuya hummed. The distraction apparently provided Dazai with what he needed to plant a small kiss on Chuuya’s cheek, surprising them both.
It’s not rare for them to exhibit such affection at random, but it’s the first time that, when Chuuya went to look back at his school friend, that the latter ran away . Stunned, Chuuya awkwardly reached his hand up to his cheek, contemplating whether or not that was real.
“Get back here, dumbass!” Chuuya shouted, chasing after Dazai the moment he regained some of his senses, yanking his bag and book off the ground.
It was a rather nice late Tuesday morning. The sun wasn’t too hot, and the clouds were almost too perfect. School isn’t really Chuuya’s strong suit, but he enjoys it because he gets to spend his time with his friends.
Him and Dazai eat lunch together just behind the school where there was a small forest area. No one really went back there, but it was nice. It was their spot.
The grass is well kept and it’s easy to run around in, especially since the ground is even, so he has no trouble catching up to Dazai — who managed to make it to one of the courtyard entrances.
He rested his hand on Dazai’s back as the younger caught his breath, bending over awkwardly whilst being incredibly red in the face. Chuuya isn’t sure if he’s flushed because of the running or because of the dumb kiss.
“You alright?” Chuuya asked, helping Dazai steady himself and stand upright. He nodded, looking at Chuuya with another one of those smiles. It’s rare that Dazai smiles this much in one day. Chuuya figures he must be in a hella good mood.
Chuuya couldn’t help but want to smooth out Dazai’s hair again, brushing through the knots with his fingers until Dazai was the one to step away.
He took Chuuya by the wrist, tugging him towards the vending machine he knew was in this area. Sly bastard. Of course he had a plan. (Chuuya would never admit it, but he doesn’t actually mind these things).
Dazai tugged on Chuuya’s sleeve again, giving him the puppiest puppy eyes he could muster. It had been restocked, since it was missing Dazai’s favorite snacks for just the longest time, but suddenly there was a row of melon bread in the machine that was practically made for Dazai.
Chuuya knew what must be done. It was only right (he tells himself). It’s his duty as Dazai’s only friend. Splurging on some melon pan.
"Go ahead, Mackerel. I'll pay for it." Chuuya sighed, already reaching for his wallet. He knows Dazai well enough that there’s just no chance the guy has money on him. He never does. Sometimes Chuuya thinks it’s strange, considering how much his dad makes, but oh well. Dazai can be incredibly forgetful.
Dazai grinned, getting exactly what he wanted. He happily skipped over to the machine, drooling over the sweet and yummy taste he would soon be able to enjoy. He waited for Chuuya to stand by his side before meticulously inspecting each and every little package of melon pan in the front to decide exactly which one would taste the best.
He pointed to his final decision, glancing over at Chuuya with the same puppy eyes as before.
There’s no way the packages are different, but he doesn’t feel like ruining the delusion today. He really has no right to talk, anyway. He eventually nodded to confirm Dazai's choice, looking back over his shoulder. “How many do you want then?”
Dazai, surprisingly, held up just one finger. As much as he loved his snacks, he didn’t want to waste Chuuya’s money — even if he knew how filthy rich Chuuya was. Dazai silently thanks Chuuya’s sister for her money. It’s like praying to god if god turned out to be a redheaded asian woman who works for some big company as an executive.
Chuuya shrugged and fed his cash into the machine.
Retrieving Dazai’s one chosen packaged melon bread, he held it up like some sort of holy offering. “Here you go,” he stretched out both arms, the bread placed perfectly on his upward facing palms.
Dazai quickly grabbed the package, bouncing on the balls of his feet as he excitedly tore the top off, stuffing the plastic into his pocket for the time being. He pulled out the bun, looking satisfied as ever at the sound of the crunch with the first bite.
No wonder, since he apparently lost his lunch. Or maybe he just forgot it at home. It reminds him of when Dazai would always lose the lunches he gave him in the mornings to the point where Chuuya started waiting till lunch to feed him.
“Don’t forget to share with me.” Chuuya clasped his hands together, trying to mimic the puppy look that Dazai always manages to give him. It doesn’t come out quite right and looks more menacing than anything, but the giggle he got from Dazai was worth the embarrassment. Maybe.
At least Dazai considered for a second, deep in thought, before snapping off a tiny bit of the melon bread. Tiny as in, hardly the size of his pinky nail. Dazai offered it to Chuuya with a mischievous grin.
Sly little fish. Damn him for all it’s worth. Chuuya accepted it anyway.
He opened his hand expectantly, allowing Dazai to place the tiny piece of bread in his palm. Once that was done, Chuuya sucked up the tasteless crumbs, receiving absolutely nothing from it.
By the time he looked back up, Dazai had already gone and broken off a bigger, more normal sized piece, holding it up to Chuuya’s mouth when Chuuya looked back at him.
Chuuya was only a little taken aback, but mostly satisfied with the sway he had over Dazai. He knew his cuteness would win in the end. Chuuya opened his mouth to allow dazai to feed him the piece of bread he broke off.
Once the piece was inside Chuuya's mouth, he began chewing it as he swallowed it with ease. “I’d ask you to feed me some more but I already feel enough like a child.” He huffed.
Dazai nodded, agreeing with the statement that Chuuya was, in fact, a child. Dazai made a gesture with his hand going over Chuuya’s head. Though, he was only a few centimeters taller, so the effect wasn’t as funny as it should have been.
Chuuya almost went to defend his honor ( he’s only sixteen) , but a different approach was in order. "You're not much taller than me, ya know?"
Dazai made a dramatic gasping sound to the best of his ability, stepping back and holding the melon bread to his heart, hand to chest, as if brutally wounded by the most horrible comment ever made.
Chuuya rolled his eyes, lightly flicking Dazai on his forehead. "Come on, don't be so dramatic. Now you have to feed me a bigger piece, to make up for that horrible acting." He mocked, making the same motions, just without the bread.
Dazai squinted his eyes, pretending to not see Chuuya, sighing dramatically once again.
Then, when he glanced down just slightly, making eye-contact with Chuuya, he made a big show of only just now realizing Chuuya was there. He brought his pointer finger and thumb up to his eye, squeezing them close together but not enough to touch, comparing it to Chuuya’s size, all while protecting his melon bread from behind his back.
Chuuya then narrowed his eyes slightly, as he watched Dazai make quite the show over something so stupid. Then again, he wouldn’t be Dazai if he wasn’t this insufferable.
“Whatever. I still have to eat and I don’t want to do that standing.”
Chuuya shoved his book into his bag, letting it hang over his shoulder as he looked around for a nearby bench. It’s not their usual place to eat, but it’ll do, since they’ve wasted so much time anyway. Well, that’s sort of a lie. He welcomes the change of scenery.
Dazai followed when he went to sit, plopping down beside Chuuya and going about his task to munch on his bread as slowly as possible.
Chuuya, on the other hand, took out his well packed lunch and began to enjoy his meal. Kouyou always makes the best food, no matter how short on time she is. He feels a little guilty every time he sees her in a rush, but he’s too selfish to not want to enjoy her food.
Since they were now facing the courtyard, Chuuya noticed that there were a whole bunch of other students eating around the area with their friends. It always amazed him to see people with huge friend groups. He can’t imagine jumbling all of them at once.
He likes having Dazai around. Plus, he has his own friend group. Dazai isn’t in it, but he’s never really seemed open to joining Chuuya when they hang out as a group.
Not that he and his friends have really tried to include Dazai. They’re just different, is all. Dazai and Gin would probably get along.
The thought of connecting Dazai with his friend group made him realize something else. Dazai doesn’t have any other friends. He’s with Dazai more often than not, and he’d notice if Dazai was hanging out with other people.
It makes sense, though. It’s probably hard for people who don’t know Dazai to try and communicate with him. Not a whole bunch of students want to actually try and talk to ‘the mute boy’. The nickname leaves a bad taste in Chuuya’s mouth.
But wouldn’t it be nice for Dazai to have a few friends outside of Chuuya? Other people who will understand him?
When Chuuya puts his mind to something, his stubborn personality simply will not let go of it. He’s never sure if that’s a good or bad thing, but it’s a thing and he’s currently in the midst of experiencing his next obsession.
Finding Dazai friends.
First, he has to get Dazai to agree , which won’t be hard when he knows exactly how to get into the guy’s head. Because Chuuya isn’t the only stubborn one.
“Dazai, I have a challenge.” Because they’re both competitive.
Dazai glanced at Chuuya, the remnants (crumbs) of a recently eaten piece of bread still remaining on his lips as proof it was there. He tilted his head, waiting for Chuuya to continue.
That gave Chuuya the chance to come up with a number on the spot before he announced his genius idea. Making sure his bento was safe in his lap, he raised up both hands with all fingers up. “Do you think you can make ten friends?”
Dazai’s smile went up a little awkwardly, his expression evident of his very visible confusion. Dazai extended his index, drawing a circle in the air to ask ‘why?’
“Because! I challenge you to make ten friends. I’ll even figure out the logistics of it and everything!” Chuuya grinned, clasping his hands together again as he practically begged. He wants Dazai to make friends, and this sounded like the easiest way to go about it: making it a game.
Dazai's hand lifted slowly, fingers curled in slightly, showing his confusion. He shook his head gently and brought his hand near his temple. (‘I don’t understand’ in JSL)
Chuuya shook his head, clicking his tongue when it came to him. He dug through his bag to find the notebook he uses for writing in his free time, flipping to the back where there was a completely blank page.
“Okay, look.” Chuuya gestured for Dazai to come closer, moving his lunch out of the way to make room for his notebook. He took the pen out from the spirals and drew a big box right in the middle. He made ten rows and three columns of various sizes.
“We’ll keep track. It’ll be like.. a sign up sheet.” Chuuya hummed, incredibly satisfied with how he was already doing so far. At the top, he wrote in big letters, ‘Dazai’s 10 friends’.
He heard a small snort from beside him but he brushed it off, ignoring the fact that Dazai was absolutely judging him. It was probably harsh, too, but he doesn’t care. His ideas are genius and amazing.
“This will be the name of who you befriend.” Chuuya annotated as he spoke, tilting the first column before moving on to the second. “This is where they check the box if they agree to the terms and conditions.”
Again, he heard laughter from his side, but shame on Dazai for being judgy! He has no right. At least Chuuya has friends of his own.
“And finally, a note box. To list all the reasons why they do or don’t want to be friends with you.” The more Chuuya spoke, the more he cringed at himself for coming up with this. Dazai’s giggles definitely did not help his self esteem.
Once he completed his outline, he finally offered a glance at Dazai. He had gotten a little red again, and was at the very least smiling at the prospect of it all.
Who’s going to want to be friends with me? Dazai signed in response, not exactly dropping the smile despite how sad the question honestly was. He was right, of course. It’s hard enough for Chuuya to find friends he actually likes (.. who actually like him* ), much less Dazai of all people.
“Hey, what about that guy in your class? The glasses one. Isn’t he advocating in student council for the accessibility of disabled students?” Dazai nodded, spelling out his name in sign. Kunikida. Chuuya hasn’t ever really met the guy, but he’s always around school. His blond hair is hard to miss. Plus, he’s tall. Taller than Dazai. Not that Chuuya notices tall people specifically. It was just an observation .
Right, so, Kunikida is a good candidate! And if he knows anything about the guy, he’ll definitely need some friends. Half the school hates him for being as much of a teacher's pet as he is. Chuuya’s honestly glad he doesn’t have to sit in a classroom with him all day.
“I’ll be your first friend. Got it? That way I’m always number one.” He marked his name up in the first box as confidently as he could, scribbling over the check box. He swore he could almost hear Dazai thinking about how childish that was. Still, he scribbled a whole bunch of nonsense about how great Dazai is into the final column, finishing it off with a dramatic dot of the pen, even though he wasn’t using punctuation for any of the other sentences.
“See? You’ve already made progress!” Chuuya let out a small laugh of his own, capping his pen and pushing the newly-ripped-out paper into Dazai’s hands.
With a determined nod, Chuuya’s hand moved confidently, fingers forming the shape of glasses near his eyes, when he then pointed forward. Talk to glasses tomorrow.
Dazai gave another awkward smile, one that mixed with the anxiety of having to carry on a conversation. A conversation where only one person will be talking.
At least Chuuya always makes him feel comfortable. He can’t ask for much more than that. Maybe Kunikida won’t be so bad..?
Besides, Dazai distinctly remembers the times when Kunikida has tried to be nice to him. He often offers to help Dazai with work, or Kunikida will just talk openly despite no real reaction from Dazai. It’s not so bad.
Maybe this could be good.
They had to separate once the bell rang for their classes, leaving Dazai to think about the idea. It’s weird to see Chuuya trying so hard for his sake, and while it’s not unwelcomed, it’s still hard to comprehend.
The idea of making ten friends is just insane to him. Chuuya has always been his best friend. His only friend. He doesn’t think he needs anyone else. Besides, how would this work?
Not a lot of people have the patience to wait for Dazai to write out sentences just for them to have to read them. Even fewer people are willing to learn sign. He’s lucky to have Chuuya. Not that he’d ever tell him that.
When Chuuya came to grab him from his classroom after school hours were over, he snuck a glance at Kunikida. He was organizing his desk. Will Kunikida really be willing to be his friend?
“Hey, Dazai, hurry up. I need time to get ready for Kyouka’s rehearsal.” Chuuya tapped against the desk impatiently, waiting for Dazai to pay more attention to him.
He stuffed everything else in his bag hurriedly and smiled, grabbing Chuuya’s hand so they could leave. That reminds him he has to find something to wear for the dance recital next weekend. Kouyou will scold him if he shows up looking like a drowning rat.
The walk home was quiet. Well, it’s usually quiet, but quieter than usual. Chuuya must still be thinking about the whole friend thing. Dazai swears he thinks they’re going to just be like pokémon.
When they turned into Chuuya’s street, Dazai couldn’t help but frown. He’s used to going home with Chuuya. They waved their goodbyes and Dazai continued forward, dragging his feet the whole way.
He thought it strange how the lights were all off, but he figured both of them must be gone. Shouldn’t Elise be home? Dazai peeked inside as he pushed open the door, slipping off his shoes before turning the light on. The living room was empty, as expected, but there were sounds coming from the floor above.
He set his bag on the counter before trailing up the stairs, looking around the hallway before checking Elise’s bedroom. When it was empty, he tried for his own room next, where he found the one in question.
“Welcome home, Osamu.” Elise waved from where she sat on his bed, kicking her legs back and forth in the dark. Dazai flicked the lights on.
As Dazai’s brows furrowed in confusion, his hand lifted in a swift motion, palm facing upward in a questioning gesture. With a tilt of his head and a flick of his fingers, he signaled the word ‘what’. Then, with a pointed gesture towards the location, he expressed ‘here.’
Elise wasn’t very good with sign language, but she understood it pretty easily and sheepishly hopped off of Dazai’s bed.
“I was looking for something.” She explained half heartedly, stretching her arms out lazily. “I thought you would be at Chuuya’s.”
Naturally, the comment only made him more suspicious. He looked around the room to see if anything was out of place, narrowing in on the closet. The doors opened to reveal.. clothes? Ones that weren’t his.
They were a few small outfits that were in the process of being folded and hidden in the corner. It just hadn’t gotten that far, since he apparently interrupted Elise’s process. He picked up one of the pairs of pants, holding them up for Elise to see as he gave her a confused look.
She got flustered immediately, hiding her face under her hair. He had expected to find some sort of prank being played on him, so this was certainly out of the ordinary.
“I might have maybe taken a little bit of Dad’s money. He doesn’t like when I wear boyish clothes, so I was just..” Using me as a coverup. Dazai understood, sighing and beginning to refold the clothes. He shook his head, motioning for Elise to join him.
“Are you gonna tell him?” She pouted, glaring at Dazai who only shook his head again. He opened the lowest drawer he has. It’s the one where he keeps all of the clothes that don’t fit him anymore. That’s where he started putting the stuff Elise had bought.
He felt Elise’s arms come from behind his crouched form, hugging him tightly as her face squished against his back.
They’ve never really gotten along. Elise is an attention whore, and Dazai wishes he had what she did. They fight and prank each other as often as most siblings do, but they also fight for their father’s attention. It led to a bitter resentment between the two.
Then there’s times like these when Dazai remembers that they’re in the same sort of situation. As much as he wants to hate her, he can’t help himself. She can be cute, sometimes, and this is one of the moments where he feels maybe just a little bad that she’s the favorite.
“Dad is gonna be home soon.” She mumbles, pausing. He knew what she was going to say, and he almost expected her to give up out of a stubborn frustration. “and thanks..”
Dazai smiled, closing the drawer that he’s now designated as a place for Elise to keep the things that their dad won’t let her have. They bond over the strangest things.
Elise stepped away when he was done, clearing her throat and crossing her arms. “Anyway. I have to do my homework! Bye!” She exclaimed, turning on her heels to stomp out of the room. Maybe they’re more similar than Dazai would like to admit.