Chapter Text
Working in Oda’s record shop after a long day at school is anything but ideal. All she wanted to do was go upstairs and curl up in her nice, warm bed and let her playlist take control of her thoughts. Instead, she was forced to man an empty store. Which wasn’t so bad when she thought about it. She still didn’t want to be here, but it could be worse.
Her hand slipped into her pocket, pulling out her phone. Spotify’s playlist algorithm was shit. She could’ve sworn she’d heard the same ten songs repeat themselves this past hour. Hip digging into the edge of the counter and elbows braced against the counter, Dazai let herself sag as she switched from Spotify to Apple Music.
Silence swept through the store for only a heartbeat, and then the familiar opening chords of a Bad Nerves song replaced the emptiness. Absentmindedly, Dazai reached up to adjust the mask over her nose, sigh escaping her.
The faint ring of the bell above their door was nearly lost beneath the music, but Dazai was practically trained on that sound. She heard it in her nightmares. Gaze sweeping towards the door, her back straightened instantly.
Standing in the doorway of the record shop was Chuuya Nakahara. Her earphones dangled idly from her hand by her phone, interest sparkling in her eyes as they darted all across the room. It was a look on Chuuya’s face that Dazai had never seen before, in a place she’d never so much considered the other.
Chuuya’s gaze met hers, and a flush becoming of her red-head status overtook her face. She was quick to turn her head and shuffle into the aisles of the shop. It occurred to her in an instant: Chuuya hadn’t recognised her at all. Inconceivable, considering Dazai was sure she’d have recognised her even if she weren’t still wearing her school uniform.
Curiosity took hold as she watched Chuuya head straight for the section full of Western artists. Who would’ve expected that? Popular volleyball player Chuuya Nakahara with her perfect grades liked to spend her spare time trolling around record shops and eyeing Western rockstars.
Very briefly, indignation flared inside of Dazai. They didn’t simply just attend the same school. Not only were they in the same class, Dazai sat right next to her. The fact that Chuuya hadn’t recognised her was baffling. Amusement quickly won out over her indignation, however. Chuuya may not have recognised her, and that proved that she was nowhere near as smart as she thought. Excellent news, considering all their interactions at school were in exact debate of that topic.
Still bent over the counter, her eyes stalked Chuuya across the room. She still found it hard to believe that Chuuya was here at all. An all too familiar frown marred the girl’s face as she observed the collection of music before her. There’s a brief thought that Chuuya’s lack of taste should’ve been expected, but that’s promptly thrown out the window when a giant grin overtook Chuuya’s face. Her fingers slid across a selection of CDs before deftly pulling out one in particular.
Her approach to the counter was ten times more sure-footed than her entrance, but once she got close enough, Dazai noticed the remnants of a blush still marking her cheeks. In what Dazai would deny to be an anxious gesture, Dazai adjusted the hood covering all of her long hair except her bangs.
“Just this one, please,” said Chuuya, holding out a copy of Foo Fighters’ Echoes, Silence, Patience & Grace. Politeness she reserved for everyone but Dazai.
Dazai took the album from her despite already knowing its price and contents. She flipped the CD over, looking over the familiar tracklist. “Good taste,” slipped out without thought.
It was meant to be a bitter compliment, but it came out laced in awe instead. A murmur that could’ve gone unnoticed, but Dazai’s never had good luck. The blush on Chuuya’s cheeks has only deepened.
“That’ll be 2,600 yen,” said Dazai.
It took Chuuya a moment to fumble around through her dark leather handbag to pull out her purse. A moment later there was an assortment of colourful bills being shoved in Dazai’s direction. Their fingers brushed, and she could’ve sworn her heart began to pound to beat of whatever song was now playing.
Bullshit. She just needed to get Chuuya out of here as quickly as possible. Today was a one-off. Chuuya would never return, and she was more than likely purchasing a gift for somebody. That made much more sense than Chuuya actually having the same music taste as her—they were day and night.
Sliding the album back across the counter, purposefully avoiding any contact, she smiled thinly while pocketing the cash. “Thanks.”
“Thank you,” Chuuya parroted back.
Chuuya picked up the album, her own thin smile painted on her face. She easily swept one of her dangling earphones up and put in her ear, hand raising in an absentminded wave. In return, Dazai gave her a short nod of acknowledgement.
It wasn’t long before the bell above the door was ringing again, the thump of its shutting being lost beneath the music. The song playing eventually faded out, and any chance of Chuuya returning was surely long gone.
Feeling assured, Dazai let out a long sigh, leaning forward to rest her head against her fists on the counter. It took a moment to gather herself. Everything was fine. Shocking as it was, there was no chance that Chuuya would ever return.
♬.ᐟ
Everything was not fine.
“I don’t think you understand,” said Chuuya. “He said I had good taste.”
Lips twisted, Akutagawa looked distrustful. “I’d bet he says that to all the girls that come to his shop.”
“What’s his name?” asked Albatross, fingers dancing across her phone keyboard.
Dazai did her best to keep her gaze firmly rooted on the empty desk before her, but she couldn’t help but flicker her gaze over to the group of girls next to her. Thankfully, Chuuya had her entire body turned away from her. She had both legs up on her chair, contorted in such a way that was only possible due to her small stature. The sigh that left her was beyond melodramatic, but she tilted her head just-so and Dazai was treated to the sight of the morning sun shining across the waterfall of Chuuya’s hair.
“I didn’t get his name. He wasn’t wearing a name tag, either,” answered Chuuya.
“Seriously?” Albatross only frowned for a few moments before shaking her head. “Whatever. I’ll find him anyway.”
Fear struck through Dazai for only a moment. It would be quite literally impossible to find him anywhere online. Considering he was actually a she, and he was her.
Akutagawa side-eyed the girl next to her. “Or Chuuya could go back to the store he works at. Like a normal person.”
“You’re one to talk about being normal,” retorted Albatross, but it went in one ear and out the other.
The fear had returned, because Akutagawa was very obviously right.
Chuuya knew it too.
Dazai was royally screwed.