Chapter Text
Chuuya was laying his head on his arms, which were on his desk. Very quickly, he noticed a wretched string of rhythm in his ears; his least favorite song began to play in his already falling out earbuds. Speaking of which, for some reason, his earbuds decided to be a pain in his ass today. They kept slipping out of his ears while he walked to school and in the hallways.
Today, the first day of high school, of all days, had to be one of the most aggravatingly bothersome days of his life. Not only was he late to school, his hair wouldn't cooperate, he spilt his cereal somehow, his cat took his tie which lead to him chasing her for five minutes, and certainly not the last thing: he tripped down the stairs to the station and bumped into someone. Now, he had to deal with loud, immature kids.
In effect to this chaotic morning, he wasn't able to focus whatsoever in his first period. No matter how hard he tried, nothing would stick in his head—it was like nothing even entered his ears in the first place! And sure, the first days of school aren't too important academic-wise, but this inability to concentrate got to the point that he didn't even know his teacher's name. As a matter of fact, he didn't pick up any of his tearchers' names (except one).
There was only one name his brain had the misfortune of picking up that class, and it was Dazai Osamu. Chuuya didn't hate many people. Sure, he firmly disliked some individuals but never hate. He was certain Dazai would be the one exception.
Dazai was a tall, egotistical, brunette kid who sat next to him. He never shut up, and he never quit poking at Chuuya for some reason.
Thinking back on it, maybe he was one of the key reasons to Chuuya not being able to focus.
Because he was unable to focus, he gave up on trying at the thirty minute mark of class and simply put his earbuds back in. He tried, he really did, and he failed.
So, he tried to fall asleep. Naturally, because of the snot-nosed brunette sitting next to him; he was unsuccessful with sleeping as well. Therefore, instead of sleeping, he was really just laying his head down with his back to Dazai while he listened to music. Somehow, this brunette made listening to music unenjoyable. The continuous poking and repeating whispers of teasing names for an hour straight was a punishment, not even he would wish on his sister (who he was very fond of getting on her nerves).
This is why when the class did finally end and the teacher left the room, Chuuya snapped. If he was going to have to sit next to this kid, he would not deal with this every day.
Sitting up, Chuuya turned and glared at the brunette. Gods, he was tall even while sitting down. "What the fuck is your problem? Quit messing with me." He spat, taking out his earbuds.
When Dazai saw the redhead sit up, a sharp smirk found his face. The brunette's finger paused and he slouched into a more comfortable position as he stared at the other boy. He put his elbow on the table and rested his jaw on his hand.
"Oh, y'know... just wanted your attention." He responded, blatantly acting dumb. He also had a finger on his chin, glancing up for a moment. His expression was so different than just before. You could almost mistake him for being respectful with the smile he had on.
"And for what reason would you need to talk to me?"
"I saw you this morning at the station." That sweet smile he had quickly turned into more of a smirk. A terrible, malicious smirk.
Oh. Ha-ha. Oh no.
Chuuya paused, his glare faltering for a few moments. He couldn't mean when he tripped... right? Of course, out of any student attending this school who could've seen that, it just had to be this one.
What was he even meant to say to that? The moment of silence went on way longer than Chuuya would've liked it to go on.
"And why is that relevant?"
"Mmm, I'm so glad you asked. Well, not only does that mean we take the same train," NOT GOOD. "I also saw you trip over someone. It was quite amusing. The poor chibi can't even pay attention to his surroundings." Towards the end of his sentence, he had this tone as if he was holding back a laugh.
It's barely nine in the morning and he already wants to go home. This kid talks way too much.
"First of all, you will ignore everything that happened down at the station today. Two, don't call me chibi??"
Dazai's smirk almost looked like it softened as he leaned closer to Chuuya, which only fed his confusion more.
"I don't think I will, chibi."
The redhead was about to snap back, unfortunately for him, his next teacher came into the classroom. Said teacher made quite a loud appearance. He was very loud in general, and old. Chuuya would not like this teacher. At least this time he could focus a bit better—how strange.
He learned this teacher's name was Mr. Fukuchi. That would be the only teacher's name he learned that day.
__________
Finally, after one of the most useless days of his life, 3pm was nearing. Chuuya found himself zoned out, laying on his desk, looking up at the clock. How long would this take?
After some of the longest and shortest minutes ever, the teacher announced that class was over, a few moments later a bell rung. A dismissal. Never had he ever stood up straight from his desk quicker. It was kind of loud—y'know, the chair scraping and hitting the floor—which was unbelievably embarrassing, but at least he's free, right? WRONG!
As Chuuya was happily walking down the hall, he heard a voice. The very distinct voice of none other than Dazai Osamu. Of course. And right at that moment he realized—
"I saw you this morning at the station."
"...we take the same train,"
The brunette in question appeared beside him—irritatingly close to his side. Chuuya made the mistake of taking a quick glance at him. Bad, bad idea. It was almost as if Dazai knew exactly what he was thinking. That damn smirk. That stupid expression he made.
Chuuya would have to deal with him until he got to the train, and while he was on it. He just had to pray Dazai didn't live in his neighborhood. Actually, no, what were the chances of that? Why worry about something that will obviously not be true?
Surprisingly, the walk through the rest of the hallway and even to the train was quiet. What was this? Not that Chuuya was complaining at all, but after meeting this boy he completely expected him to talk his ear off. But no, he was silent. Even on the train he was respectful (for the most part, he made a few jokes, mocked how Chuuya fell that morning, but that was all).
Maybe.. it wouldn't be that bad?—Is what he would've thought if Dazai didn't continue to walk with him after exiting the station... and after a specific turn... and after another specific turn... and after entering the grounds of his neighborhood... and after one last turn. What the fuck? Of course he had to jinx it. How did he not see Dazai this morning? He specifically remembers only being followed by a stray cat—not a brunette.
Since Chuuya was getting tired of not knowing why Dazai was following him (he refused to believe they lived in the same neighborhood), he suddenly came to a stop, the other taking a few steps forward before stopping as well then turning around.
"Dazai, where do you live."
Woah, okay that came out wrong.
Chuuya said it so seriously Dazai could almost laugh.
"Oh? So forward Chuuya, I know I'm charming but that's quite quick don't ya' thin-"
This was tiring. The redhead took a step forward and raised his hand, hitting the top of Dazai's head.
"-oof!.. Hey that hurt y'know..", he grumbled, "Okay, okay, I may or may not live in this neighborhood."
"Oh yeah? Then why didn't I see you this morning, huh?"
"I walk a different way. Listen, if Chuuya wants to go to my house soo bad he could just askk~"
"Ew, as if. And why are you talking to me in third person?"
Dazai didn't respond verbally, only a shrug. So, Chuuya scrunched up his nose and continued walking. This kid really was strange. If he walked a different way why hasn't he left yet? Shouldn't he have gone that way instead? Wait. If Dazai was following him, he must be trying to find out where he lives!
And, well, sure, Dazai would probably find out sooner or later, but Chuuya would rather delay that. Why would he want this freak to know where he lives on the first day?
"If you took a different way, why don't you go to your house that way? There's no reason for you to follow me, creep."
When Chuuya didn't receive an answer back, he furrowed his brows and turned on his heel, crossing her arms. He blinked and Dazai was gone. What..? How did he get away so quickly? Whatever. He didn't want to worry about this. He was already exhausted. Today was quite overwhelming.
So, with a deep sigh, he let his hands fall back down to his sides. While he turned around, he rose one of his hands and ran it through his hair. He didn't look back as he walked to his house.
When he did arrive home, he saw no car—as per usual. With that being the case, he leaned against the short brick fence that surrounded the house, grabbing his backpack and then his keys. He walked to the door, unlocked it, locked it behind him, slipped off his shoes, made his way to his room, and passed out, not bothering to change out of his uniform.
Not once did he consider the fact Dazai could've still been watching. Though, he probably should've. That boy was a freak!
__________
Hours later, Chuuya woke up, finding himself in a completely different position than before. He was actually laying in the bed with a light blanket draped over him. Ah, she must be home. He also noticed that his vest-jacket was folded that the edge of his bed, no longer on him.
Whilst he continued to awake, standing up, stretching, and whatnot.. he smelled something. Something indescribably delicious. Yep, she was without a doubt home.
Ozaki Kouyou, his older sister.
As he stood stretching, he felt and heard his stomach growl. He didn't eat much today.
He was about to walk out his door when he remembered he still had his uniform on. 'Should probably change that.. So he did, and he felt much better in his pj's. Then finally, he actually made his way out, down the hallway, into the living room—and there he saw her, making dinner.
Walking into the kitchen, he lightly ran his fingers against the wall and then flicked the back of Kouyou's head before hanging said arm around her neck.
"Ohhhh Kouyou! What'cha' makin'"
He said enthusiastically, looking over her shoulder and then moving to her side, getting a better look at the food. Gods he was so unbelievably hungry. The scent alone was making his mouth water.
She did not appreciate when Chuuya flicked her—much less mess with her while she was cooking. Although, despite this, she really couldn't be mad at him. She missed him, unable to see him in the morning before of work. So just this once, she'll allowed the annoying affection. Leaning her head to the side with a subtle smile, she responded,
"Why hello Chuuya.. I'm making chicken curry. Could you grab plates?"
Chuuya hummed, his small smile grew fonder. He slipped away from her, walking to the cupboards. Plates, utensils, and soy sauce. The soy was all his want. He knows he really doesn't need it in the rice because of the curry.. but he loves soy sauce. It's probably really unhealthy the way he has it so much.
Anyway, besides the whole soy sauce thing (that Kouyou will be a bit upset about), he sets the kitchenware on the island. They do not have a table. The house isn't spacious enough for that. And then he sits down before immediately getting back up. He should help, or at least offer to.
Walking back over to her he says, "Do you need help with anything else?"
"Besides serving yourself, no. It's all finished."
She stepped away from the stove to grab her plate. In that moment, she looked down at Chuuya and spoke up once again.
"I heard you grab that bottle, Chuuya. Don't over do it, you'll get sick."
"I won't.. I won't," he grumbled.
They served themselves, sat at the island, and ate. Kouyou watched from the side how much of the soy he'd put, and let out a quiet sigh.
Everytime Chuuya grabbed that bottle, it was always, "...Don't put too much... You'll get sick..." It got quite irritating at times. He how to not be a glutton. But like always—it was hard to get mad at her. She only looked out for him. They had quite the struggle after their parents passed—or better said, after their mom passed. Dad was never in the picture.
They finished dinner, got ready for bed,
and then it was the next day.