Chapter Text
Chuuya likes mornings. He knew most people would call him crazy, because who likes waking up? But Chuuya enjoyed his methodical morning routine, washing his face, doing his hair, making his bed, and his favorite, choosing an outfit. He loved going through his clothes and finding every combination he could. Choosing colors and styles based on his mood, what he would do throughout the day.
It was finally Saturday, he could finally dress in something that wasn't the uniform the café he worked at required. He carefully sifted through his drawers and silently wished he had a walk-in closet instead. But he knew he was lucky just to have a roof over his head.
He finally settled on a white shirt, a green leather jacket, and some black jeans. Simple, but he added golden jewelry and black combat boots. Besides, he wasn't planning on doing anything interesting today, maybe shopping around in high-end fashion stores he couldn't afford.
He grabbed his keys and motorcycle helmet and headed out of his worn-down apartment, determined to enjoy his Saturday.
***
Chuuya walked down a street in Yokohama known for its expensive stores, window shopping most of the time for he didn't feel like being silently judged by the workers there. People offered him glances, his appearance tended to draw attention in this city. With his orange, wild hair, and unusual blue eyes, most people didn't think either feature was natural, and Chuuya took a little pride in that. Not that they were particularly important in being a barista other than unwarranted flirting.
He finally came to the store he was willing to spend an outrageous amount of money on, Kouyou’s Kimonos. It was the fashion line of Chuuya's favorite artist, Kouyou Ozaki. Her clothes all held a traditional feature while also being modern and chic. He particularly liked her way of creating blocky clothing that still seemed to flow. But nothing held a light to her Kimonos of course.
Elaborate, beautiful designs with cloth-like liquid. The few times Chuuya had tried one on in the fitting room, he felt as though he could fit in with the elites. Every feature was brought out, his eyes more piercing, his hair on fire, every curve captured, and yet it kept his shoulders broad and accentuated his muscular stature. And that was only in a fitting room with a broken light.
Chuuya could never afford a Kimono, but he had splurged on a couple more affordable pieces of clothing (from the sale section) after a bonus from work.
Today he sifted through a few items, gagged at a few of the prices inconspicuously, and gracefully made his way to the sale section. However, he couldn't help but notice the Kimono section along the way, and almost let out a gasp. The designs no longer depicted scenes from nature or cityscapes or beautiful geometrical designs, but instead, very plain, boring patterns that looked familiar somehow.
Still walking, he wasn't paying attention to where he was going and promptly walked into a young woman.
“Oh, crap. I'm so sorry, didn't see you there,” Chuuya said automatically, lightly grabbing the woman by her elbows to steady her.
“No, it's quite alright, lad,” the woman replied, waving her hand and taking a step back. “I know the Kimonos are quite shocking.”
Chuuya took a better look at the woman in surprise, most people don't notice things like that unless they shopped at Kouyou’s Kimonos often. She must be a fan. She had long red hair, not unlike Chuuya's, and held a definitive grace. Her lean frame was taller than Chuuya's and her face was sharp but undeniably beautiful.
“Yeah… I'm used to Kouyou having more creativity with her designs. I wonder what happened in this edition,” Chuuya offered.
She gave him an odd smile before speaking, “What do you think happened?”
Chuuya looked at her and it seemed as though she genuinely wanted an answer, so he turned his eyes back on the Kimonos and tried to figure out what other styles they looked like.
“They… look like… the Port Mafia’s style,” Chuuya answered slowly, surprising himself with his own answer. “No… Kouyou Ozaki was bought out?!”
The other redhead seemed to be analyzing as Chuuya looked at the Kimonos and the rest of the store with wide eyes.
“That's a very good guess,” she said, her words carrying more weight behind them than Chuuya could notice. “A pity, I rather liked her design before.”
Chuuya nodded enthusiastically at that before finally turning back to her.
“I know right? Kouyou is my favorite designer, her clothes offer so much power which a lot of other fashion lines lack. No offense to the Port Mafia, but they tend to play it safe and only make what sells,” Chuuya finished with a sigh, gazing back at the rather boring Kimonos.
The woman smiles at Chuuya's words and seems to come to a decision.
“Say, would you like to join me for coffee? I know a café down the street, I would love to talk to someone else who's familiar with fashion,” she prompted, causing Chuuya to look at her with surprise before smiling.
“That would be nice, lead the way.”
***
The pair of redheads chatted about fashion the whole walk, becoming pleased that their opinions were so similar. Their conversation continued as they sat down at the café.
“... And Kajii’s clothes have way too many lemon motifs. I mean, I understand that his stores are called Lemons to Lemonade, but, I mean, come on! At this point I'm worried it's an obsession,” Chuuya blabbed at her.
She laughed in agreement, “I will say the name is clever, but it's true, it's too much yellow.”
They sipped their coffees as a comfortable lull took over the conversation. After a few minutes of silence, the woman put her cup down with a clink.
“I adore your opinions,” she says. “But I was wondering what your name was, lad.”
“Oh right!” Chuuya exclaimed. “I'm Chuuya Nakahara, but you can call me Chuuya. I'm sorry, but I didn't catch your name either.”
The store’s door opens and lets out a jingle as someone steps in.
The woman looked satisfied that Chuuya finally asked her that and started, “My name, lad, is K-”
“Kouyou! What a welcome surprise to find you here!” A stranger exclaims from Chuuya's right.
Chuuya’s eyes widened as his face morphed into one of bewilderment.
“Kouyou?!? As in Kouyou Ozaki? It is such an honor to meet you,” Chuuya stuttered at her, his grip on his coffee cup growing tight at the sudden realization he had been talking about fashion to his fashion icon for the last hour.
“Thank you,” Kouyou replied, a little distracted by the stranger. “Sorry I didn't tell you sooner, it really has been wonderful chatting with you.”
“What's this, Kouyou?” The stranger said with a lilt. “You've got yourself a fan?”
Kouyou lets out a sigh and finally turns to acknowledge the man who, Chuuya thought, had so rudely interrupted his coffee session with the Kouyou Ozaki.
“Sure, Dazai,” Kouyou says tiredly. Dazai, huh, sounds familiar. “This is Chuuya Nakahara, I have a feeling you'll be hearing about his name soon.”
What? Hearing about me? Chuuya's thoughts were a whirlwind of different directions because he couldn't quite grasp what Kouyou was thinking. He couldn't believe Kouyou was thinking about him. Talking to him. Enjoying his company.
“Well then! Wonderful to meet you Chuuya!” Dazai crowed.
Chuuya snapped out of his tangent and turned to greet the man. His eyes landed on a tall man slightly bent over at the waist to make better eye contact. He has fluffy brown hair in a strange pattern that somehow perfectly framed his face. His brown eyes had a strange reddish glow, and he had flawless skin, a sharp jawline, and an otherwise perfect face. Nobody has any business being that stupidly handsome, Chuuya vaguely thought. He suddenly remembered why the name was familiar. Chuuya was currently face to face with the famous Osamu Dazai, rookie model of the year and soon-to-be best model.
Chuuya struggled to get his throat to make a sound in reply and settled to clear his throat. He swore he also saw Dazai study his face, his brown eyes widening ever so slightly as if surprised by what he saw.
“...it's nice to meet you too, Dazai.”