Chapter Text
The foliage was dense in that forest, but the little boy carried no fear in his eyes. Softly humming a song with a cheerful rhythm, he didn’t seem to mind all the noise his expensive shoes made as he trampled all the dry leaves and small insects that had fallen to the ground. Sometimes it even seemed deliberate how noisy his footsteps were, as if he wanted to be found—a lost child longing for a voice to call them home.
His perfect posture was a rare sight for such a small creature, a firmness in his spine that didn’t seem to wobble for anything, keeping his balance even with all the forks that dared to appear in his path. And he walked decisively—he didn’t need to look around to find what he was looking for, he knew exactly where he was going.
Only after a few minutes of walking did he finally seem satisfied, stopping in his tracks with a loud thump in the dirt and letting a smile grow on his small face; just a trace of his expression visible on the face half covered by the pale bandages.
In front of him was a tree that he had engraved in his mind long ago; not as tall as its sisters in the area, but covered in a foliage perfect for camouflage. The boy let out a sigh as he noticed the small footprints in the churned-up soil at the base of its roots, marks that always brought laughter to his mind. He didn’t need to be a great detective to read the movements that flora had witnessed so much.
“Chuuya, always hiding in the same place won’t stop her from finding you, you know?”
No answer came after his call, the purest silence being his only company. A few snaps of twigs and rustling leaves were heard somewhere nearby, but they were so discreet that they could have gone unnoticed as simply local birds returning to their nests.
But not Dazai, he knew the truth better than anyone else. And he wasn’t willing to go back alone, not after having soiled his favorite shoes.
So, determined to wait, the little boy closed his eyes after resting his back against the thick wood of said tree, also adhering to the silence that the other so persistently offered him.
He was taken aback when something suddenly hit his head, not hard enough to make a bruise, but enough to hurt a little because of the size and height from which it fell. An apple, he realized when he found the fruit rolling aimlessly on the ground after committing its crime.
“Sh, scram! If you stand there, she’ll find me, you piece of shit!”
Dazai didn’t seem interested in the urgency he caught on that voice or the desperate pleas to be left alone in hiding. Instead, he laughed as he massaged his own head where the previous impact was now causing some discomfort; he really hated feeling pain.
“You offend me, Chuuya!” Dazai protested, putting a hand to his heart as if those words hurt him deeply. “I came here because I care about you, of course. After all, she’s already coming.”
As an immediate reaction to those words, the branches and foliage soon revealed the little boy’s hiding spot, his tiny face a funny mixture of anger and despair. The big sapphire eyes were now offering Dazai their full attention, to which in response he smiled proudly as he waited for his answer.
“What the fuck are you looking at, then?! Get up here now!” At some point during that order, he found yet another object to throw (this time a broken branch that Dazai had no trouble dodging).
And his smile widened.
“Nu uh!”
“Nuh uh WHAT, YOU FUCKER?!”
“Yeah, Chuuya, shout louder~! Maybe she’ll find us faster that way!” Dazai laughed, sneakily stepping on the thrown branch to make even more noise in the woods. “And after all, it’s too much energy to waste climbing this tree. What would I even gain out of it?”
But he didn’t even have the chance to finish his speech, being startled by the sudden tug on his shirt. The tree wasn’t that tall, at least not tall enough for the red-haired boy to reach him without having to climb down. And Chuuya, perhaps because of his short stature (would always insist Dazai), had always been an agile child. He was also surprisingly strong, he realized, as he faltered in his steps at the sudden act.
“Get up now, Dazai! You know if she finds us you’ll be a victim too, come on!”
In a mess of hands and legs, slaps and shouts, Dazai finally found himself sitting next to Chuuya, using all the strength in his now tired legs to balance himself on the trunk that he doubted would be able to support the weight of the two of them.
Chuuya was immediately back on his main mission, eyes focused on the earth below and praying that no one would notice all the crushed leaves and kicked-up soil that made Dazai’s dramatic struggle to refuse to climb with him obvious. He was so attentive to any movement or noise below that he had completely ignored the figure next to him, now with very messy hair, a face half-soiled with dirt and a frown, staring at him intensely as he waited for a return on the gesture that just never came.
A twig snapped nearby and it was only at this moment that he looked at his friend again, knowing exactly what he was about to do—at the exact second that Dazai opened his mouth to shout and alert any passers-by.
Chuuya was quick as a lynx when he reduced the already short distance between them even further, covering his mouth and forcing him into silence. And that really was enough to make Dazai quiet, just not for the reasons Chuuya had originally planned.
While Chuuya focused on the person to come, Dazai was distracted by the perfect chance to record even more facts about the other to himself.
Opportunities to get close to Chuuya were rare; at least for long enough before he quickly pushed him away and questioned the sudden invasion of personal space. But at that moment, in his perfect roleplay of an extremely skilled secret spy, Chuuya focused only on what he couldn’t control—unlike Dazai, momentarily in the palm of his hands.
And many mouths disparaged Dazai and his countless miraculous plans—how could such a small child manipulate his destiny so well that he could get almost everything he ever wanted? So unpredictable, few could see when his plans were already in motion, mere puppets in the hands of a little genius.
(Chuuya would always insist that grown-ups overestimated Dazai, how could they not realize the obviousness of the strange bandaged child’s mind?)
But at that moment, Chuuya didn’t realize what was happening. After all, not even Dazai Osamu himself had foreseen the way his mind completely lost itself in the warmth of the orange, instincts he didn’t know where they came from trying to convince him to touch the red strands (how would it feel when touching his fingers, what was its exact pantone shade at that moment, and what would it be when illuminated by the sun?) Maybe it was the cake he’d eaten earlier, probably something in the secret ingredients Kouyou had used in it that were convincing Dazai that he needed to know how many freckles Chuuya had painted on his cheeks and what was the average speed of his kicks and reactions.
After a few seconds, Chuuya finally confirmed that they were alone and returned to his bare position sitting on the strong branch, also removing his hands from Dazai’s mouth and letting out a heavy sigh.
Not losing a single second of his freedom, Dazai immediately spoke again.
“Ane-san just wants to take a picture, what does Chuuya think is so bad about that?”
Chuuya, distractedly staring at his own knee exposed by the rips in his jeans and grimacing as he tried to wipe the blood from a freshly opened wound, didn’t look at Dazai when he answered, his voice still in a whisper in case they really weren’t alone.
“It’s never ‘just a photo’, you know that! She’ll lock us up on that for hours!” he complained, rolling his eyes and finally giving up on the wound when he realized he had nothing to help him with the task. For a mere second something in his expression changed, submerged in the thoughts that followed said words and only he knew; for a second he risked opening his mouth, but soon gave up whatever he was going to say.
Dazai sighed, took off a part of the bandage that wrapped around his arms (a part purposely hidden by his clothes, so that his skin still wasn’t exposed) and cut it with his teeth, starting to wrap it around the other’s wound as if it was an automatic reaction.
“Chuuya, it’s your birthday. It’s extremely important that she records all your annual growth. Seeing how small you are, maybe she needs proof in the future to study your unique case of forever freezing at your current height!”
“What did you say?!” The voice that answered him poured out anger, his eyebrows returning to their usual state as he frowned again when he looked up at Dazai again.
“What? Does Chuuya really believe he can outgrow me?” Dazai then cracked a smile, his sharp gaze not retreating from the threatening eye contact in his direction. Then his fingers, which had finished completely wrapping the bandage around the wound, closed on each end of a loop and pulled the knot tight, drawing a grimace of pain from the other who immediately went to attack, launching himself at him. “Hey, hey, hey! Don’t come up on me—Chuuya, we’re going to fall, are you crazy? Oh, don’t try to pull my hai—”
He hadn’t finished complaining when, in a mess of slaps, shouts and bites, one of the two lost his balance first on the branch, purposely pulling the other alongside him by the inevitable proximity during the fight.
It was with a loud thud that the two of them fell to the ground together, belly on top of legs, ankle on the other’s stomach, and now covered in leaves and dirt on their clothes, hair and hands. Chuuya was getting up first with some apprehension, a hand on his head and as expression of pain as he assessed the damage from the fall while completely ignoring the hard elbow he had given Dazai, who was incessantly complaining in his ear.
As they sorted out their postures, sitting normally on the floor and arranging their own clothes, the physical aggression was put to one side, even if at any point did they seem determined to give up the endless cursing.
And then two things happened simultaneously, so that Chuuya couldn’t fully process neither of them.
First, a figure appeared just in front of where the two had fallen—distracted by their own loud voices, neither of them (supposedly) heard Kouyou rush up and stare with horror at the total disaster they had become, both with their hair pointing in every possible direction, clothes half torn and dirty, and occasional bloodstains on cuts she still couldn’t locate.
“Look at the two of you, you’re dirty now! Come here, now, let me clean that up! You could have at least waited until photo time before coming here to play in this dirt, why every year—”
And there followed a long monologue about how irresponsible they were, how they couldn’t follow basic rules and a lot of other things that neither of them really made an effort to listen to.
While the female voice was shouting complaints, it was the exact moment that the second thing happened. A weaker, lower and grumpier voice whispered right next to him, threatening not to be heard by anyone other than the one speaking.
“Chuuya looked good for a photo, look what you’ve done.”
The low words were soon drowned out by Kouyou, who came even closer now, letting her own voice rise above all others, taking them by the arm and leading the kids away from the trees.
All the way back Chuuya said nothing at all, his frown deepening as he glanced at Dazai, who seemed doubly focused on ignoring him and talking to Kouyou about how irresponsible and spoiled Chuuya was.
For years Chuuya would continue to wonder if he had really heard those words or if he had only imagined them, so absurd they seemed. And for years he would still keep his promise to hate photos—but even after seven long years, he still kept the old polaroid of two scruffy little boys on top of his dresser.
——————————
With this background as a child, perhaps not even he himself could have imagined that, at the age of twenty-two, Nakahara Chuuya was now under the intense golden gaze that hid behind a professional camera, surrounded by countless spotlights and dressed in clothes that perhaps cost more than the rent on his dorm room.
Of course, his sister still had a hand in all that, but he also had his share of the blame for taking on the odd modeling job to pay for his college fees. He didn’t like to rely on Kouyou’s money and achievements, always insisting on fighting for his own livelihood.
It didn’t mean, however, that the years had earned him a love for photography—he only learned how to tolerate the anger and frustration when all eyes declared him a star within the studio, surprisingly revealing a talent for the job that had previously remained hidden, never letting his team down.
After a few hours of constant work, the lights were starting to blind him a little, a headache throbbing in the distance, threatening to get worse if the session went on too long. Then he felt his shoulders relax a bit as the loud announcement echoed through the room—We’re going to take a break now, everyone. Take a moment to rest while we check the results.
Almost immediately, as if freed from a strange spell, all the people around them began to move; the director and photographer gathered to check all the photos and assess whether they still needed to continue or whether the work had been a success, there were staff tidying up the various props scattered around the studio and some other models who were already heading to the dressing rooms in order to get ready and leave after a long, exhausting day.
Chuuya wasn’t startled by the sudden presence that appeared next to him—with how much it repeated, he kinda expected it by now—, a broad smile on the man’s face and a bottle of water that he gladly accepted, without thinking twice before starting to drink.
“Well done, big boy. I knew you’d be the best for the job.” Those words made him roll his eyes. He knew very well that compliments wouldn’t make Chuuya hate that kind of work any less.
After swallowing more than half the bottle, he finally let out a long sigh, looking irritated at his friend. Lippmann was a tall man (not like he was much of a comparison), with kind eyes and delicate features. His straight hair tucked behind his ear, fancy spot near his eye and the elegant clothes that accentuated his natural beauty would easily fool anyone that he was there for work, an eternal model even when he didn’t make an effort to be one.
“Next time find someone else, Lip. ‘s shit is too tiresome.”
Lippmann laughed, clearly showing not a hint of regret at his choice and, with all the certainty in the world, willing to repeat the recommendation of his name in the future as well.
“You needed money, and I needed a replacement for the job. It’s a win-win situation.” Then he reached into his blazer pocket for his phone, immediately distracting himself by typing messages to someone Chuuya didn’t know. “Besides, it was Kouyou who asked me for this favor. She said that this big job would definitely put your name out there in the industry. Even if you don't want to continue modeling, it’s good to get your name in the media, you know, for the future. And speaking of her, she loved the photos.”
“HUH?!” Chuuya didn’t even have time to complain about it being another set-up by his sister (who was still conspiring with his friends now!), because the last part was enough to distract him from everything else. He quickly glued himself to Lip’s shoulder, ignoring all privacy limits and peeking at the messages. “Since when do you even have her number?!”
Lippmann blocked his phone screen, laughing as he prevented the other from seeing the rest of their conversation, otherwise he’d only get even more annoyed.
“Ever since you started modeling, of course. Our chat is practically a fan club for your photos… And she always offers me valuable information about you!”
“YOU—Give me your phone right now, I’ll delete everything!” Chuuya lunged at his friend’s shoulder, trying at all costs to snatch the phone from his hand and put an end to that betrayal.
It was in the midst of the brawl of insults and shoving each other that another person approached them. At any other time, Chuuya wouldn’t have run away or forgotten a fight, especially not one that directly involved his own dignity. But at that moment he was tired, and the one who arrived was exactly the one who could offer him the only words he longed to hear at that moment.
Still fiddling with a few buttons on his camera, the photographer only released the device when he stopped in front of them, lighting up when he looked at Chuuya.
“You’re free for today, the photos are absolutely amazing!” Unlike the serious persona he kept on his face when he was behind the camera, at that moment the man was all smiles. “Thanks for helping with today's work, man. I didn’t know what to do when the last model canceled at short notice.”
Music to his ears; Chuuya felt in heaven with the confirmation that he could finally go home. He wouldn’t last another second inside that studio.
Chuuya admitted that perhaps sometimes he was bad at saying no to his friends. He already had a few boring projects on his shoulders, but Tachihara’s desperation when he told him how screwed he was because he needed that photoshoot urgently for his portfolio, and Lippmann who, even with many contacts on his phone, couldn’t find anyone to help him—he couldn’t run away from helping.
A part of him (which he wouldn’t show beyond his own mind) was satisfied with the relief in his friend’s eyes. But the rest of his mind was surely planning to find new names to offer the next time it happened.
Frowning and already undoing the elaborate hairstyle they’d done to his hair, Chuuya muttered quietly.
“Kay, kay, whatever. Ya want a ride back?”
“Did you bring your bike today?”
“Nah, I borrowed Ane-san’s car, figured you’d have too much stuff to take back.”
“Dope! I’ll take it then, lemme just go get everything. It's enough time for you to finish changing, I guess?”
Chuuya made a quick gesture of confirmation with his hand, turning around and heading towards the dressing room where all his clothes and belongings were, begging to be collected and bring back to its owner his true personality. “I’ll meet ya in the garage, kay?”
Lippmann was so silent throughout the conversation that he could’ve easily gone unnoticed, even after following Chuuya on his way back like his own shadow. The only thing that could draw his attention back to the previous confrontation was the moment Chuuya picked up his phone from the make-up counters in the dressing room, and a beep sound caught his attention.
“DID YOU FUCKING SEND MY PICTURE IN THE FLAGS CHAT?!”
——————————
The sudden sound of the car being unlocked caught Tachihara’s attention, who had been nonchalantly leaning against the door as he waited for his friend to arrive. He looked up to find Chuuya still walking towards him, looking like a completely different person from the one in his camera.
Not only was his hair loose now, but the shortest strands looked messy in a stylish way, and Tachihara could imagine him angrily fiddling with the strands to get rid of any remnants of the delicacy of his previous hairstyle. Instead of the frilly white blouse with long sleeves, he now wore a white V-neck shirt and black leather jacket, the choker he rarely took off was also back in its usual place. He didn’t have his favorite hat over his hair that day, but for some reason he hadn’t forgotten his beloved gloves.
They got into the car in silence, both acting purely out of habit at that moment, so often they gave each other rides they lived in the same dormitory room—the final destination was the same and many of their outings were also to the same places, at some point in their shared coexistence they had become accustomed to waiting for each other.
As soon as Chuuya started the car, Tachihara broke the silence. “Hey, how’s college? I know you’re busy this week.”
Chuuya answered only a few seconds later, after reversing the car and perfectly leaving the space he had parked in.
“Yeah, I was planning to go to campus this week to get some things done, the labs there are better than our messy room. But I can go later, don’t worry. Gin said they were going to cover for me today.”
“Huh?” Tachihara asked, suddenly lifting his eyes from the phone and focusing on the view to his left, which didn’t return his attention, turning the steering wheel with just one hand and focusing on the rearview mirrors.
Red light. Chuuya looked at him after stopping the car, raising an eyebrow in a clear expression of confusion. “Huh what?”
“Are you really going to college at night even after the rumors?” And Gin too?! Who else is in your group, huh?”
“Come on, Tachi, do you really believe the rumors? You’ve got to be kidding,” he laughed, looking straight ahead again, leaning a little out of his chair to confirm that the signal had changed to green before setting off once more. “Besides, we know how to fight. Akutagawa is with us too, you know that if any strangers come at us, they will be the ones in danger.”
“You’re crazy, all of you!” Tachihara complained. He no longer had his phone in his hands, he couldn’t even remember it after hearing that nonsense. “I trust your abilities, of course, but it’s not about that! It’s about prevention, avoiding throwing yourself into dangerous situations on purpose! Why would you do that?!”
Chuuya smiled sideways, rolling his eyes. It was funny how Tachihara himself was just as impulsive, just getting to complain now cause he was probably worried he wouldn’t be there with them, since his building was pretty far from theirs.
“There’s nothing to worry about, man.” They talk too much and we’ve never seen anything, it’s obvious that it’s all lies.”
Tachihara threw his arms in the air, as if suddenly surrendering to the argument. He knew how hard-headed and overconfident his friend (his friends, to be honest) was with his views. He wouldn’t be able to change his mind.
“I hope you’re right, Chuuya.” Another red light. Tachihara extended his little finger to his friend. “Just promise me that you’ll leave immediately if you see or hear anything strange, or call me right away. You know the rumors are mainly around your building.”
Chuuya intertwined his own pinky with the other’s finger, still with a broad smile on his face. His voice contained the same tone of laughter, but the words that came out were firm.
“If it helps you sleep better, I promise to run away or call you right away. Just don’t go crazy thinking about it, ‘kay?”
——————————
Gentle touches on his greenish jacket pulled Chuuya out of a dreamless sleep, almost a criminal act for his so exhausted mind after a full day’s work, immediately followed by endless discussions about the university’s latest project. His eyes flickered tiredly, returning to reality ready to find out who was the cruel soul who had dared bring him back to that reality.
The answer should have been obvious, just not having associated it before due to his mind still so clouded by tiredness—only the Ryuu had such calm in his voice and delicacy in his touch; any other of his friends would have slapped his messy hair and laughed at the fact that he had fallen asleep at the wrong time.
“I let you rest a bit because Gin brought us most of the material, but now get up. It’s getting late.”
Chuuya stretched before he even found the figure standing next to him, his face serious and his posture perfect as he waited for his friend to get up from the chair. But he knew it wouldn’t be right away, noticing the mess that was still on his desk, the notebooks open to scribbled pages and thousands of pencils scattered like a creative storm.
Or what, at least should have been a downpour of creativity if he had been able to get new ideas for his projects. Chuuya felt all the frustration return when he saw the pages of his sketchbook filled with different strokes and ideas, all crossed out or accompanied by nasty comments that he himself had made in moments of pure anger.
He immediately missed the minutes of peace he’d had between leaving work and arriving at college, moments when he could forget all his responsibilities and let his mind wander during a hot bath, free of painful memories and weights on his back. Perhaps it was deliberate that he had left his car at home and came with his motorcycle that day, craving the speed and the wind, in a race that was always enough to calm his nerves.
He quickly closed the notebook before the other could even notice, even if he doubted Ryuu’s lack of perception of that detail; at least he could try to make him forget what he had seen.
“Where are the others?”, he asked, hurrying to finish packing up his material and deciding to focus on another subject to distract his exhausted mind.
“Gin finished tidying up and went with Kajii to get the car. They’ve sent word that they’re coming.” Akutagawa replied, his expression as neutral as ever as he turned his back on Chuuya, already walking towards the exit as if trying to hurry him along.
Chuuya, understanding the message well, stood up quickly and soon joined him in the corridors outside. Even though the moon was already out, there were still students on campus, most of them in pairs or trios; rarely alone.
“People are really taking the rumors seriously, aren’t they?” Chuuya commented in passing, looking around as they walked side by side at a similar pace.
Akutagawa lowered his gaze, arranging his backpack on his shoulders and letting himself smile. A discreet smile, as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
“Not everyone is as carefree as you… Or has mastered martial arts since childhood, Chuuya.”
Chuuya rolled his eyes, but a smile also reached his face at one point when they both stopped in their tracks, finally reaching the sidewalk that marked the beginning of the area designated for design students. A long road ahead was the only thing separating them from the large pale building on the other side, where several technology students had just left in droves.
And it was there, between design and technology, that the rumors were born. No one knew exactly its origin or could confirm the veracity of the endless gossip, but at some point fear began to haunt them. Specifically, two months ago.
It all started with the alleged disappearance of a student. She was a popular girl among the students in the area, for both good and bad reasons. Many said she was a special presence, for her excessive charisma and her creative abilities; many called her a genius. On the other hand, many mouths also called her fake, someone who only got where she was by virtue of her family’s immense influence and money, trampling over the goals of others in her path.
But like her or not, no one was able to discover her whereabouts when she simply evaporated before everyone’s eyes. Her social networks, always so full of news, suddenly fell silent. There were no missing person announcements or newspaper headlines, her friends said she no longer replied to messages and none of them knew where she lived.
Disappearing like she never existed at all, time turned her into an urban legend—the fuse of all rumors.
Some voices began to say that they had seen a strange man next to her on the last two or three nights before her disappearance, a figure who was definitely not a student there, and so they said he was the reason for her vanishing and, consequently, a threat that could still be around campus.
Others were more extreme, saying that she herself was the danger to be feared, that after being suddenly erased from their lives, some still spotted her around buildings and recreational areas, always at night and always when few people were around. And those who saw her were tormented at night by horrible nightmares that left them shaking in the morning to come.
That was until, two weeks ago, the girl magically reappeared in another country, as if nothing had happened, but still not responding to messages. That was enough to calm some people down, but others insisted that, like the girl’s reappearence, other people started disappearing too (even though no one ever told the names of those disappearing).
So, if you asked Chuuya what he thought of it all—he was in the group that didn’t even remember the girl’s existence and the new disappearances were too poorly reported to be believable.
“Perhaps, Akutagawa, the problem is that not everyone grew up with a paranoid sister. And, seriously, even Kouyou is afraid of what humans could do to me, not ghosts.”
Chuuya was a kid who always got into trouble, so perhaps he was secretly grateful for the fighting lessons that helped him defend himself against strangers. But his skills were exclusive to physical, living creatures only.
Akutagawa looked around to see if his friends were about to arrive. Even though he was troubled by his friend’s visions of the rumors, the man himself seemed unconcerned about his situation. He shrugged.
“At least the ghost’s nightmares haven’t gotten to you yet. In fact, have you even been sleeping this week?”
Chuuya clicked his tongue, settling his backpack on his shoulders and looking away. “Of course I slept. I slept a lot. I'm fine!”
He could feel Ryuu’s gaze stuck on his lying figure, even if he didn’t look back at him. Akutagawa was a quiet, centered friend and didn’t usually get too involved in other people’s problems, but when he did speak, his words were direct. And that was Chuuya feared and tried to avoid, even though he knew he would soon open his mouth and—
“I heard you knocking things over in the dorm at 3am yesterday. Don’t tell me you stayed up late again looking for inspiration.”
That’s exactly what he had done. Notebook open on his messy table, scribbling and scribbling on all kinds of clothes that he could think of. Until he gave up on everything he was doing, crossed out the pages and tried to think of smaller pieces (shoes, necklaces, separate pieces of blouses and pants to see if they could fit); and nothing worked for him. Everything was dull, everything was ordinary. And soon he would have his final paper to prepare for, and his creativity would continue to fail him.
Then Chuuya just smiled broadly. “Of course not. I was busy defeating my archenemy in Red Death yesterday! That was after finishing a few projects.”
The part about him getting frustrated with his creations and turning on the computer to vent his anger at online games was definitely true. Technically, obfuscating a small part of the real story still couldn’t be considered a complete lie.
Akutagawa still looked at him seriously, not seeming to believe his words one bit, but he didn’t feel motivated enough to push the topic either. He knew how hard-headed the other man could be when it came to his moments of weakness.
Suddenly a honk caught their attention, and both their gazes turned to the car stopped in front of them. Kajii was at the wheel, smiling broadly as he beckoned them into the car before the mysterious ghost came to murder them. Gin, sitting next to him, ignored the other man’s shouts as she asked if Chuuya was already with his motorcycle nearby (which he confirmed was indeed in front of the building nearby). Higuchi was also in the back seat, distracted by her cellphone and only regaining her attention when Ryuu suddenly opened the door next to her, looking embarrassed as she moved to make room for him.
“Don’t be too harsh on yourself, Chuuya,” Akutagawa said before turning his back and getting into the car, closing the door behind him.
Chuuya rolled his eyes in response, still holding the confidence forged in all his features.
“I’m fine, stop it.” Then, with two gentle taps on the side of the car, he nodded for them to go on their way. “You can go, I’ll be right behind you.”
“Be careful.” Gin declared as a farewell, even though they only started the car when they had made sure that Chuuya had already climbed and started his bike.
Everything was ready to go—helmet hiding the red of his loose hair, the dry rumble of the bike turning on echoing in the open night and his belongings promptly organized in their proper places. But before the wheels could meet the start of the road, something on the other side of the alley caught his curious gaze.
Even with all the rumors and the overwhelming fear, there was still not much that could prevent the crowd of students at the college, no matter what time it was and which conditions they were in.
And it was in the midst of the great throng of unfamiliar faces heading straight for their vehicles in the front building that Chuuya recognized one particular person; a presence so familiar that he reproached himself for how easy it was to recognize him. He looked for a few seconds at the owner of that brown hair that always caused doubts as to whether it was naturally wavy or whether he just never fixed it (but Chuuya knew the right answer to said question); the bastard who came in all smiles and still full of energy as he chatted to three other people who seemed to rebut his comments as they followed him to the same car.
Chuuya finally rolled his eyes, blaming it on the fatigue of his long day and looking away from the scene he didn't want to see. He was too full of problems at the moment to invent yet another burden for himself, just one more on his enormous list.
Then, with a low grumble, Chuuya put his foot on the gas and drove off into the night.
——————————
But an anxious mind tends to leave things behind, and it's a few minutes later that Chuuya finds himself hurriedly pacing the corridors of a campus building again while muttering curses to all four walls in the long empty corridor.
He only traveled about 30 km before remembering the main reason for going to college that particular evening, apart from his group work, and was forced to turn around on the way. The college website had been down that week due to the amount of access at the beginning of the semester, and Chuuya was supposed to visit his course coordinator to get the syllabus. And he needed it, or he wouldn't be able to prepare for what the week expected of him.
Chuuya was already at his limit. With all the extreme accumulation of stress after a super busy day with barely rest breaks, constant disturbances to his already anxious mind and memories of years that he preferred to keep buried where he would never be able to find it again, he still had to deal with a long whole hour of waiting with tired employees who clearly didn’t want to work at that time of night either. One more situation in the turbulence of his day definitely didn’t help his current mood, and he ended up wasting the little energy he still had left (and which he wanted to preserve for when he was back at the dorms and watch some tv show to distract him before surrendering to the peace of his dreams.)
Then, as he returned to his bike, the student’s mind was no longer working as well as before, his eyes threatening to close (whether from sleep or a throbbing headache) and his mind using all the rest of its focus on the letters printed on the paper in his hands, trying to process the written information even though his brain was begging him to put it off until the next day.
And that’s how he ended up letting his guard down, in an instant he wasn’t proud of.
Walking slowly where the light barely reached him and without any sound of footsteps around, he didn’t feel when a strange presence appeared near where he was supposed to be walking alone, silent and sneaky like a professional thief.
It was too late when Chuuya finally sensed that something was wrong, when he felt a shiver run up his arms like a last attempt to warning him of the danger that was getting closer and closer, and he opened his eyes wide when he suddenly noticed a shadow too close, in a place he was sure no one had been before.
He turned agilely, in all his adrenaline letting the papers scatter across the gray floor, his eyes fierce and his feet firm as he positioned himself for a possible fight that he would try not to make easy.
And it was as he fell to the ground that his mind could only repeat the same thing.
Tachi, I’m sorry, I think I just broke our promise.