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Chuuya Nakahara could say she can win against anyone breaking a sweat.
She's protected The Sheep since she was seven, destroyed Mafia cargo aircraft like you tear a piece of paper, and defeated two French spies with years of formal training under their belt.
So, yeah. She's strong.
But apparently it's protocol in the Port Mafia to get humiliated the moment you join — if the mountains of paperwork she's received on her second day by the Boss himself were anything to go by. Of course, Chuuya didn't have the courage to admit she could only read a couple of words, a list so short that it didn't even include her own name. Not even mentioning she couldn't hold a pen to save her life. The Boss is the Boss, though. So of course he knows.
Which brings Chuuya here, at the dining table of her brand new apartment provided by the Port Mafia, with piles of reading exercises meant for six-year-old children and Osamu Dazai by her side.
The Osamu Dazai. The prodigy that brings everyone to her knees at the ripe age of fifteen. The demon covered in bandages, with long messy hair and a coat too bif for her. Chuuya hates her. The mere sight of her makes her chest tighten and her face flush. She can't control herself around her, it makes her sick. She shouldn't like Dazai's unbothered expression so much, or the way her bangs curl on her forehead, or how delicate her hands must be and fuck. She's making a fool of herself.
As a matter of fact, Dazai must think of her as an idiot or, more accurately, a dog. If she can't do anything but attack, then she's not worth much. When Dazai's not reading her weird suicide manual, she's focused on some huge, apparently Russian, novel that Chuuya didn't bother asking questions about. And here she is, forced to be a primary school teacher. Dazai doesn't want to teach, it's obvious. But the Boss' orders are absolute, so she's decided to make all of her learning a living hell. Chuuya still doesn't know all the kanjis used in the reports she needs to read but at least she knows five ways to say 'penis'. And if she uses the all to insult a certain bandaged mackerel, well, the mackerel had it coming.
They've been at it for hours, and it's only their fourth session. Chuuya's been exhausted since she sat down next to Dazai. She slumps on her chair, arms lazily resting on her thighs. She didn't even bother changing from the old tank top and faded sweatpants she hangs in when she's at home (but Dazai's still wearing that stupid suit, so it should be alright). She never would have guessed learning basic skills could be so tiring. The only thing stopping her from punching Dazai in the face and blow everything off is the constant reminder that she'll need those skills to read Rimbaud's notes.
"C'mon! Chuuya should try this one!" Dazai exclaims as she shoves another sentence written.
Of course, the fucker can write well. If she used a brush, her writing might look like fancy calligraphy. Chuuya sighs as she brushes away the thought of Dazai writing poetry. There's two kanjis she doesn't know but the katakanas are written below them, something Dazai's been doing since they started.
"'The air is wearing a cape'," she reads before frowning. "What the fuck does that mean?"
"Heir — someone who's chosen to inherit something — not air."
She nods. A simple sentence with only normal words? Yeah, right. Dazai is nice. Too nice. And that's never something good. One thing you learn when working alongside a piece of shit like her is that he always has a trick up her sleeve. When she's being nice to you, you try to remember what you've done to piss her off and pray she'll have mercy. She doesn't know a quiet day. She always has to annoy someone, and that someone is usually Chuuya.
The word 'heir' is added to the growing list written with an hesitant hand of kanjis that will be reviewed before bed as Dazai takes a mouthful of her energy drink. She's already writing something else. Her face is angled to the side with her long hair making a curtain that hides the paper.
No good. She called it.
There's two longs minutes of Dazai writing, erasing, biting her nail, and writing again, before she shoves the paper in front of Chuuya. The glint in her eye is nothing but an alarm announcing trouble.
"I wanna see if you actually remember or if your tiny little brain as let everything slipped through."
"Fuck off."
Chuuya stares at the paper. She recognizes the words — names are the first thing she's learned, the paperwork is full of them — and that would make her smile if Dazai wasn't staring at her with that wide empty eye of hers.
"Dazai likes Chuuya."
She reads the sentence out loud before she realizes what it means. When she does, she feels heat rising to her cheeks. Rolling her eyes, she pushes the paper back to Dazai.
"Hilarious really. Stop fucking around, I don't have time for that."
Hopefully her nonchalance is a good disguise. Her heart is beating so hard it might jump off her chest. But she doesn't let anything show. She hates the pranks and especially ones that are personal. Every mention of The Sheep still makes her blood boil. She can handle it.
Dazai is oddly silent as she takes the paper once more and write a single kanji, unknown to Chuuya, with the corresponding katakanas under it. Her writing looks messier, more rushed. Her brows under her bangs and bandages are knitted together.
"Truth," Chuuya reads.
Okay, that one might be useful.
She writes it down and wait for the next word, if Dazai decides to be predictable it will be 'lie." Except Dazai is anything but predictable. She swipes all the papers away, most of them falling on the hardwood floor. Before Chuuya can protest, her cheeks are held by two cold hands and her eyes are burning into a lightless one.
"Chibi, I really wouldn't mind spelling it out for you but that's quite literally what I'm doing." Her words are followed by a laugh, a weak and desperate one that's unfamiliar before someone as unbothered as Dazai.
Dazai likes Chuuya.
Truth.
Oh.
Oh!
It takes a ridiculously long time for Chuuya to realize. Her eyes widen like it's the main character of a bad comedy. When she takes Dazai's wrists to push her away, she feels her beating heart : far quicker than usual and matching Chuuya's. It makes her pause. She's left holding Dazai's wrists with her cheeks still cupped by cold hands.
"I really don't have time for your games, dickhead," Chuuya complains but the words are whispered.
"I've been honest with you about that since day one and you think I'm lying."
Blood rushes to Chuuya's cheek. Right. Dazai's stupid love confession barely a day after they met. At the time, she assumed it was another of those jokes to make her uncomfortable. Since then, those words have come back to haunt her at random times of the day. When she stares at Dazai, Chuuya can't see the usual glint of mischief, the same one she had when making her read dirty words earlier. No, instead she looks dead serious, even more than during missions.
"If you're messing with me, I'll beat your ass."
"I'll let you."
Dazai has the perfect answer to everything. Chuuya has figured as much over the months. There's no point in asking for proof, she'll craft the perfect lie for her narrative to work. So instead, Chuuya glares at her in the eye — window to the soul and all of that. And under the nihilism, the hatred for the world and herself, the sadism, Chuuya can't find malice. She must be lying to herself, there's no way Dazai… and her? No.
Dazai pulls away. There she is. Her plan hasn't worked so she's going to pretend nothing ever happened.
"Nevermind. I thought… Forget about it."
"You thought what?" Chuuya asks, stepping closer to Dazai when she takes a step back.
Chuuya is filled with curiosity that will come back to bite her in the ass. Dazai is a good liar but not exactly the best actor. So seeing her look so distraught… Chuuya wants to know.
"I just thought you-" Dazai gulps, looking down. She's playing with a loose thread of her bandages. "thought of me the way I thought of you."
"And what makes you think that?" Chuuya crosses her arms. She's playing it cool but she can hear his heartbeat in his ears.
"You're always flustered when it's just the two of us. Even right now."
Chuuya's jaw tightens. She's starting to brainstorm ways to get out of here before Dazai can understand it all and make fun of her for the rest of her life. But then, a light bulb appears above her head.
"Wait, does that mean you're flustered when we're together?"
Dazai looks away. Her neck is rosy under her bandages. It's the first time Chuuya sees her looking… shy? Is that what it is? Dazai reaches for a pen and one of the paper sheets on the table. She writes quickly. It's a word Chuuya already knows.
"Yes."
"It's okay if you don't. Really," Dazai starts before Chuuya can fully register what has happened. "I don't understand human emotions, so maybe-"
That fucking idiot.
Chuuya cups Dazai's cheeks before she can spiral too far. Dazai's eyes widen, mouth agape, her breathing stop.
"Stupid Dazai. When have your hypotheses ever been wrong?"
Dazai's brain freezes. Cogs are turning in her brain until she's understood what she meant. She's frowning and biting her lip. The sight of her at a loss of words is cute It's the most human Chuuya has ever seen her.
"Chuuya!" She exclaims out of the blue.
She cups Chuuya's cheeks as well. They're holding onto each others, the tips of their noses brushing. Their breaths mix together. Chuuya's eyes drift to Dazai's lips. They're pale and chapped but she's never wanted anything more in her life.
Dazai pushes her away.
With a breathed out 'oh', Chuuya lets it happen and crosses her arms again. She looks away. Dazai's writing in the corner of her eyes. Eventually, the sheet is held in front of her. She doesn't know that kanji, but she can read the katakanas; meaning she only understands it when she reads it out loud.
"Kiss?"
Dazai puts the paper down. She's biting her lip again and looking the most anxious Chuuya has ever seen her.
"I've never done that," Chuuya admits.
"And you think I have? Stupid slug," she mumbles.
Chuuya chuckles. She takes one step forward, then a second, and a third, and they're back chest to chest. It's like a fight, isn't it? You trust your instincts and you improvise when you're cornered. Chuuya plays with Dazai's tie. She gives her time to pull away. When Dazai does nothing but put a hesitant hand on Chuuya's waist, Chuuya pulls her down by the tie and kiss her.
It's hesitant, inexperienced, and messy. Dazai could really use some lip balm and Chuuya should lower her chewing-gum consumption; and yet they both close their eyes and lean into it. A kiss turn into two, then three, then two many to count. They only pull away when they're at a loss of breath. They stare at each other and can't say who starts giggling first, but they do. Chuuya lets her head fall on Dazai's shoulder, Dazai holds her tight, her heart beating so hard it might jump out of her chest. They stay like this for what feels like an eternity. Chuuya doesn't want to pull away, it feels like a dream too good to be true. But she has an idea.
She turns toward the table and takes the discarded pen. Her hold is better than it was last week, but her strokes are still hesitant. She doesn't know the kanji he needs but he can make it works in katakanas. She slides the paper toward Dazai, who takes the pen and paper in turn to write a kanji.
'Girlfriend?'
'Girlfriend.'
Chuuya has a girlfriend. Wow. Those lessons might be a good thing after all.
They're unable to look at each other without blushing and giggling like idiots. While Chuuya's thinking of date ideas, Dazai takes the paper of her love confession and fold it in half. It's carefully put in her book. God knows what she'll do with it.
"You're proud of yourself, aren't you?"
Dazai looks at her and nods eagerly. Her hands are folded in front of her. Like an angel who couldn't do absolutely no evil, as if her plan hadn't been thought of since — knowing her — this morning. Her eye has a sparkle of light in them. It's something rare, but something Chuuya cherishes every time she notices it. Pride blooms in her chest at the knowledge that she's the one who caused it.
Chuuya takes a step forward. "C'mere," she whispers as she's already tugging on her tie.
This time, the kiss is more confident. Chuuya still has no idea what she's doing, but she's confident she'll learn quickly if she's training with Dazai. She ends up letting go of the tie to put her arms around Dazai's neck. She feels hands squeezing her hips. They're melting into the kiss. They deepen it. She accidentally licks Dazai's lips and next thing she knows, Dazai has pulled back.
"Chuuya's licking all over me like a dog!"
"Fine. Go fuck yourself then," The insult would work better if she weren't still holding her.
From the corner of her eye, Chuuya notices all the papers still on the floor.
"We're not getting any more work done, are we?" She says, focusing back on Dazai.
"I mean, I can teach you how to say that Dazai is the most awesome girlfriend ever." Chuuya just rise unimpressed eyebrows at that. "Or we could go to the arcade."
"First date?"
Dazai nods and gives her a peck. "I'll teach you how to write it."