Chapter Text
That day had started like any other—a bright summer morning, full of golden sunlight streaming through windows and the soft hum of cicadas in the distance. It was the kind of day so ordinary, so calm, that no one questioned it. A regular Monday. Peaceful. Predictable.
Or so everyone thought.
No one had the slightest idea that something was about to change—especially not for one person. Or perhaps two.
It was still early when Chuuya Nakahara arrived in front of Dazai’s house. The pavement was warm beneath his sneakers, already heated by the sun. The sky stretched wide and cloudless above him, a perfect, endless blue. Chuuya’s flame-red hair glinted in the morning light, tousled by a soft breeze, and his deep sapphire eyes sparkled like polished gems as he rang the doorbell with practiced confidence.
"Dazai! Wake up, damn it! I know you're in there!"
He didn’t wait for an answer—he never did. Dazai Osamu was his friend. Or maybe his rival. Or his enemy. It was hard to tell. Maybe he was a bit of all of those things at once.
No one had ever really figured out what was going on between the two of them. And truthfully, no one really tried.
To most people, it didn’t matter.
But to Chuuya?
It was everything.
They walked to school like always, feet moving in lazy rhythm along the familiar path. The cicadas buzzed in the trees, the scent of summer grass hung in the air, and every now and then the wind would pick up and rustle the leaves overhead.
It was a quiet morning—well, relatively quiet. Chuuya’s sharp comments pierced the silence from time to time, met by exaggerated yawns from a half-asleep Dazai.
"Look at this chaos," Dazai murmured as they stepped through the school gate, already buzzing with energy.
"Makes me want to crawl back into my closet and sleep for a hundred years."
"Your closet? You call your room that now?"
"With two brothers talking business at six in the morning over breakfast, you’d do the same. I need my beauty sleep, Chuuya."
"It's the last week of school. You could hold out a few more days, couldn't you?"
Chuuya elbowed him playfully, hiding a smirk.
More discreetly, Chuuya let out a small chuckle, a subtle smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He had already seen Odasaku — always calm, always classy. And Ango, as serious as ever, looking like he always had a secret to hide. Dazai had been living with his two brothers since their parents died five years ago. He complains about them sometimes, but he cares about them deeply.
"Hey!" called a lively voice behind them.
Atsushi arrived running, wobbling precariously on his bike, his bag half open, his shirt wrinkled.
"You’re late again," grumbled Akutagawa, following at a distance, his face still expressionless.
"Not true!" protested Atsushi. "It’s… uh… 7:59!"
"So you’re late."
Yosano arrived in turn, perfectly made up, her hair flawless, already looking bored.
"Has anyone done the math homework?"
"Math homework?" Kenji asked, happily munching on an onigiri. "We had homework?"
"Perfect," sighed Chuuya. "A normal day."
And yet… nothing was.
Not really.
Entering the classroom, Chuuya threw his bag near his desk and collapsed into his chair, a little tired, like any student on a Monday morning.
Dazai arrived a few seconds later, dragging his feet, still half asleep. He greeted Atsushi with a lazy "hey", narrowly dodged a slap from Yosano accusing him of copying her homework (which was probably true), then flopped down two rows away.
"You okay, Chuuya? You look… not at 100%."
Chuuya rolled his eyes.
"I’m just tired. You don’t have to analyze me at 8 a.m."
"I’m not analyzing you, I’m making a scientific observation."
"Shut up, Einstein."
Dazai smirked, satisfied. As usual, he liked to push Chuuya just enough to get a reaction, not too strong, just enough to remind him he was alive.
Everything was normal. The chatter, the voices in the room, even the teacher arriving late as usual. That morning held nothing special. And Chuuya was fine.
He even surprised himself thinking that this routine was almost pleasant. Just him, Dazai, the group. Small daily tensions, a few quarrels, but nothing serious.
The kind of everyday life you don’t notice… until it’s gone.
The morning passed without incident. A surprise history quiz. A silent quarrel between Akutagawa and Atsushi about a missing assignment.
Yosano threatening Rampo with her pencil case. And
Dazai sending paper planes with "save me from deadly boredom" written on them.
Chuuya looked up from his notebook and watched the group around him for a moment. They weren’t perfect. Far from it. But… it was his life.
And he had no idea that everything was about to change.
During lunch break, they climbed to the rooftop—their usual hangout spot. Technically forbidden, locked to students, but Dazai had long ago "borrowed" a teacher’s spare key.
The door creaked open under his hand, and a warm gust greeted them as they stepped into the sunlight.
The roof was wide, surrounded by low fencing. The distant mountains shimmered under the summer heat, and the sky looked like it could swallow them whole.
The heat was bearable, kept in check by the occasional breeze that ruffled shirts and carried the scent of flowers from the school garden below.
It was the last week of school before summer vacation. That thought alone made everyone a little louder, a little lighter.
"So where are we going this summer?" Atsushi mumbled through a mouthful of rice.
"What if we left the country?" Chuuya offered suddenly, his eyes gleaming.
"Too much effort," Dazai yawned, flopping onto the concrete like a tired cat.
"Ugh, you’re so boring!" Chuuya shoved him, starting another one of their typical scuffles. Insults flew, but so did laughter.
Annoyed, Chuuya pushed him. They started to tease and argue, as normal as can be: having fun while fighting, appreciating each other while hating each other. It was their thing, their daily world.
By the time the bell rang again, everyone had agreed to the idea—though no one had nailed down a destination. Too many opinions, too little time.
----------✿
School ended. The group split up, scattering down streets and side paths.
Except for Chuuya and Dazai, who walked home together like always. Their shadows stretched behind them, cast long and gold by the setting sun. The cicadas sang louder now, and the light filtered through the trees like molten honey.
Before heading home, they made a stop at their secret spot.
Tucked away in the forest behind their neighborhood, hidden from the world, stood a small abandoned house. Cracked windows, ivy crawling up the walls, the scent of moss and dust hanging in the air. Two years ago, they had found it. And claimed it.
Together, they’d fixed it up—old cushions, found furniture, fairy lights strung along the beams. A little TV, a worn-out game console. A place outside of time.
No one else knew it existed.
It was theirs.
The door creaked as they pushed it open. Dust motes danced in the fading light. Dazai collapsed on the squishy beanbag chair like he’d been running a marathon.
Chuuya fired up the console with a mischievous grin.
"I want a rematch. Yesterday doesn’t count—you gave me a controller with no battery, you damn cheater!"
Dazai shrugged lazily.
"Coincidence. You’re getting paranoid, Chuuya."
The evening passed in a blur of competition, bickering, and laughter. The sound of buttons clicking filled the space, mingling with music playing low from someone’s phone. Every now and then, they paused to talk about summer. The trip. Where they'd go.
Eventually, a decision was made—though really, it was all Chuuya.
"France. We’re going to Paris."
Dazai didn’t argue.
"As long as I get to sleep in and don’t have to move before noon, I’m in."
Later, Dazai walked Chuuya home. The streets were quiet. The sky had turned a soft lavender, stars just beginning to peek through.
At Chuuya’s door, he turned with a grin:
"I beat you, mackerel!! Feels good to win without cheating, doesn’t it?"
"Beginner’s luck. Next time, you won’t even get close."
"Sure, sure," Chuuya smirked.
They exchanged ridiculous faces like always before parting ways.
But the moment Chuuya stepped inside, something shifted.
The air was different. Still. Heavy.
His mother, Kouyou, stood in the living room, hands folded, her face calm—but her posture too composed.
His brother, Verlaine, sat nearby. Silent.
A chill ran down Chuuya’s spine.
“Chuuya…” Kouyou began gently. “We’re moving. To Paris. In one week.”
Silence.
She tried to smile. To soften the blow.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you earlier! Everything’s already been arranged. I wanted it to be a surprise...
You love this city, you’ve been dreaming of going there for so long… You’re going to love living there, I’m sure of it.”
She tried to smile, to wrap the news in softness.
But around Chuuya, the world came to a standstill.
His heart skipped a beat.
Leave…?
His school, his friends… Dazai?
Everything they had built together over the years?
The hidden spot, the late-night games, the fiery arguments laced with affection?
The thrill he’d always felt at the thought of discovering Paris had vanished.
And for the first time...
Chuuya wasn’t sure he wanted to go at all...