Chapter Text
June 21st 3:24PM
Officially, it’s the first Saturday of their three months and unnecessarily long summer vacation. And what is Chuuya doing? He is sprawled out on his bed, eyes on the ceiling with absolutely no ideas what to do. It has been approximately five minutes since he has started to stare at it and seriously question his life decisions.
Why, you may ask?
He has absolutely no zero idea what to do, and he’s about to fall asleep with how useless life has been to him these days.
It feels like it has been like hours of uninterrupted boredom— but the clock never lies, its only been 5 minutes. He’s sure of it, there‘s no way it‘s wrong— again.
Especially since he’s checked that clock numerous times (probably no short of fifty) after one of Dazai‘s 'pranks', which is just a nice word to describe the torture he has done to Chuuya!
Dazai had set the time one hour earlier than usual, making Chuuya think he was going to be late for school.
Unfortunately for him, Dazai succeeded in his prank.
Since that particular incident, Chuuya has made sure to never trust anything before checking it at least twice.
Who knows what kind of tricks a certain bandaged-covered idiot has up his sleeve?
It doesn’t help that Chuuya‘s phone was taken away on that specific day! Oh, how diabolical that was. His phone had been taken away after the bastard managed to convince him into pulling a prank on his teacher— then blaming it all on him. He‘s so going to get revenge this summer.
He had no way of knowing the time during the incident, and that bastard took full advantage of that! He still remembers that day vividly— having to stand out there for over an hour in the cold while Dazai was probably snuggled up in his warm, comfy bed and stupid mountain of plushies they have collected from arcades over the years…
It doesn’t matter that it happened months ago! Dazai was probably enjoying his one extra hour of sleep, all while Chuuya suffered. And why couldn’t he just go back home you may ask? Well— normally, Chuuya had to take a relatively short walk to get to school.
The problem? Well— on that particular day, the usual route had been closed off due to new constructions or whatever the hell they’ve been doing. Effectively forcing him to take the extra long way!
Chuuya could’ve just climbed over fences and stuff… sure, but for someeee apparent reason, he felt sick that morning. And with how strict his parents are— especially after that incident with the teacher, they wouldn’t let him take the day off.
He sometimes wonders if Dazai had knew these things all along. He wouldn’t put it past the mackerel.
Not that he’d ever admit this out loud— but Dazai was actually pretty fucking smart. Like, inhumanly smart.
It wouldn‘t be much of a surprise if he did anticipate everything.
That wasn’t even the worse of it all! And to top it off— he had no breakfast that morning and clearly visible eye bags from the one hour of sleep that was robbed from him without his consent.
That morning, as Dazai arrived at school with a mischievous grin and acting completely innocent—
Well, he won’t go into detail.
They ended up cleaning the school‘s toilets the whole afternoon. Chuuya received yet another week of detention.
Chuuya still remembers the smell once in a while. But it was totally worth it! Especially as Dazai had to show up with one eye covered up in bandaged for the next few weeks. He doesn’t regret that. Not one bit. Which should probably be a cause for concern. But who could blame him? Dazai deserved it.
Thankfully, the usual route has returned and Dazai swore up and down he’ll never do it again.
(He did it only because he was about to get painfully murdered by Chuuya. But a promise is still a promise.)
So yea, in conclusion to all this, their friendship wasn’t very normal. No— not even close to normal.
They were rivals, but at the same time, 'best friends'? Well— rivals don’t typically share a bed every time they have a sleepover. Or were quote: 'unusually affectionate' with each other. But on the other hand, best friends don’t play borderline heartless and morally questionable pranks on each other— especially when it happens so often that it becomes a tradition.
But whenever someone asks about there relationship, they always say this one thing in particular:
There exists a very thin line between best friends and rivals. Their friendship uses that line like a damn jump rope.
Honestly? He had no complaints. Hell— he’d keep it this way forever if he could. But if he had learned one thing from his ten years of professional-pranking-experience, that would be that nothing lasts forever. Definitely not the grin that has been swiped off his face more times than he can count after witnessing just how brutal the consequences of his actions are.
But, anyway— we got off track— time was on their side this time. And even if he couldn’t keep it forever, he‘d be able to keep it for the whole summer.
Chuuya‘s eyes winden at the realization..
Three. Whole. Frickin‘. Months.
They had complete freedom.
No annoying homework, no classmates that they have to put up with against their will. And especially no teachers that hand out detentions over the smallest things. They were completely free. A smile crept up his lips at the reminder despite his efforts to stop it.
Yokohama has no idea what it has coming.
Chuuya suddenly found himself sat upright with an evil grin and the sense of boredom vanishing. Blindly, he reaches for his phone atop the bedside table and hit up the infamous messaging app containing.. their chat logs (that should and would probably be in a crime documentary soon.)
Excitedly, he types out a short message to a very (might he say, annoying as fuck) specific asshole.
Nakahara Chuuya (You):
Yo, stinky mackerel You wanna go do something fun?
The reply comes almost instantly. This mackerel really had no life outside of his phone.
Blue Mackerel:
And hang out with a slimy slug? Ewww, I would never!! ಠ_ಠ
Chuuya clicked his tongue, undoubtedly irritated now.
Another message came not soon after.
Blue Mackerel:
Meet me at the downtown café in 15‘, gotta help Elise get ready.
She has a sleepover tonight
Chuuya looks at his screen dumbfounded.
At this time? On a Monday?
Chuuya Nakahara (You):
You kiddin‘? It’s like the first day of summer break, why does she have more plans than me???
Blue Mackerel:
Hm.. it seems like an eight year old is more popular than you! How embarrassing, Chuuya~
Chuuya Nakahara (You):
Says you fucking social misfit
Blue Mackerel:
Takes one to know one, ya know?~ ( ✌︎'ω')✌︎
The redhead scoffs, but chose not to interact further with someone he could only describe as a mental institution escapée.
He tosses his phone to the side— this time handling it with much less smooth movements.
Chuuya makes a reminder to himself to be gentler with his phone. He curses at himself for not remembering what happened last time— as his phone was thrown across the room and used as a substitute for a murder weapon.
This phone has been through everything he‘s experienced over his sixteen years of living (or, well, three years of having his own phone) , no way he’s letting it break again. Mostly because the repair fees last time were ridiculous. He had to force Dazai to work with him at the local arcade for a whole month just to earn enough for the fees.
And with all that, he still ended up using most of his allowance just to cover them!
He‘s not entirely sure why he’s so against getting a new one— even as the phone looked like it had been sent to space and back at the speed of light and no parachute or anything to help the fall.
Even so, he refused to give up on the phone. Chuuya Nakahara wasn’t known to be a quitter. He wasn’t going to prove that otherwise any time soon. He wasn’t known as particularly aggressive while with other people either. Dazai‘s just amazingly talented at being annoying. Seemingly, Chuuya was his favorite victim.
Despite how many times he had tried to ignore Dazai‘s antics— what a pain in the ass. Either way, he brushes the thoughts off his mind. Because as mentioned, he does not want to spend another month working. Especially at that arcade that smells like old, rotten cheese and greasy kids. Eugh.
Not the mention the used up chewing gums stuck all over the place. Personally, he thinks calling it an arcade was just misleading and false advertisement. Calling it a trash dump with a few century-old machines would be more fitting.
Okay, he should seriously focus now. On the actually important part. Right… that Café downtown, they haven’t really checked it out properly.
They’ve been there a few times— sure but he’s pretty sure nobody there remembers him. The Café was still pretty new, after all. it had opened up a few days after Chuuya turned fifteen— he still remembers Dazai dragging him there, as an apology for smashing cake into his face on his birthday.
All he knows about that Café is that Dazai‘s odd behavior becomes even more socially unacceptable when they’re there. (Which, mind you, shouldn’t be possible.) What an odd place.
Sighing, Chuuya lazily pushes himself off the bed, albeit with immense effort he finally manages to get up from his cozy nest.
He forces himself out the door— Stopping right beside said door, Chuuya pauses at the sight of a disheveled looking him in his full length mirror.
Yep, his outfit (fancy silk Pyjamas he calls his everyday outfit) definitely needs some changing… not to mention his untamed hair that could rival fucking Chewbacca himself.
Sighing, Chuuya opens his closet. He hastily picks out a pair of slightly baggy dark washed jeans from the back and a grey t-shirt. On it a band Chuuya has never heard of in his sixteen years of living. He hangs them on his forearm. Also takes his used (and abused) hair brush on the desk. Making a beeline towards the bathroom, Chuuya grabs a belt and sunglasses from his accessories shelve, which lies next to the bathroom door for convenience while he’s at it.
Ten minutes later, Chuuya comes out of the bathroom looking— might he say— pretty good. His t-shirt was smaller than he anticipated it to be, but it honestly didn’t look bad. Not even close. The tightness only makes his months of going to the gym more noticeable. Even with little to no effort, he pulls off the 'no one will see me’ outfit surprisingly well.
He smirks at himself, quickly grabs a dark green leather jacket hanging over the door, his previously-half-broken phone, some worn sneakers and heads out.
He absentmindedly kicks a stone while he walks on the side of the road. Chuuya seriously contemplates, what are his plans for this summer?
His room could really use a makeover. Maybe a camping trip or going to the swimming pool?
Dazai hates swimming though.
There’s still a few pre-planned pranks he has for Dazai as revenge, a few people he wants to meet with… Seriously, he hates when there’s too many options to choose from. Chuuya groans. He forces himself to walk faster. He guesses he’ll see. Three months is still a lot of time after all.
The Café wasn’t all too far from his home, it took around five minutes for the small Café at the corner to be within eyesight after a few turns. There, he spots a messy haired brunet scrolling on his phone in a surprisingly similar outfit.
Chuuya internally groans. They really needed to hang out less. Unintentionally matching wasn’t doing great for their supposed rivalry. He’ll just tell Dazai that he looks better in it.
As the distance between him and the brunet slowly narrows, Chuuya slowly realizes aren’t alone.
Instead, standing beside Dazai, a messy head of hair could be seen popping out. How did Chuuya not notice? Especially since his hair was dyed such an interesting color. When was the last time you saw someone (aside from elderly people) with white hair? The boy is also a stark contrast to Dazai, who was basically wearing all black.
Atsushi basically lights up like a Christmas tree as he spots Chuuya. Too bad it’s a little early for that comparison.
„Ah, Chuuya-San! You’re finally here!“ Atsushi beams. It was honestly kind of adorable how much he looked up to him, he grins at that.
„Atsushi-Kun, how many times have I told you to stop with the honorifics? Just Chuuya is fine,“ he pauses for a moment after, looking suspiciously at Dazai.
„And you,“ he narrows his eyes, „you never told me we had guests. What are you planning this time?“ Dazai, now with phone in his pocket pouts like a petulant child at the comment.
„Wow, Chuuya. Why do you always assume I’m up to something? I just wanted to hang out with my friend!“
„Because you always are, idiot,“ he groans. „Whatever.“
Looking away from a pouting fish, Chuuya nudges Atsushi instead. „C‘mon Atsu,“ he calls, „let’s go inside.“
Stepping inside, he remembers that he hasn’t been back there in probably a year.
He hopes the place hasn’t changed much. It has a nice atmosphere, if he were honest, the waiter and waitresses were also nice.
Their entrance— unlike at most other places didn’t cause a huge stir in atmosphere. He‘s thankful for that, they’ve been banned from more Cafés than he could count. A few completely forbids them from going inside together, which is at least better than being banned for life.
Other than a few customers and workers, almost nobody seems to notice them. That’s a first in forever, he thinks.
As they enter, Chuuya‘s the first to step in, so naturally he gets to decide where they sit. Everybody knows that, it’s an unspoken rule.
…So imagine the amount of irritation that flows through him as he tries to sit down—and Dazai suddenly grabs his right hand and silently urges for him to follow the brunet‘s directions.
Chuuya shoots him a confused glance, to which he responds with an evil grin and a finger over his mouth, hoping that Chuuya just goes along with whatever evil plans he has. Annoyed but deciding not to mess with whatever Dazai‘s plotting, he reluctantly follows and gestures for the white haired boy to follow them.
After all, Dazai would never make it that obvious if he were really pulling a prank on him. The brunet leads them to a table closer to the actual bar. They‘re not even allowed there, but nobody actually bats an eye. The first mistake was somehow having a bar section in a Café. When they sit down, he’s obviously still confused, but he isn’t surprised by the fact that Dazai never reveals his intentions until the last moment.
He has gotten use to it. He doesn’t even notice that Dazai’s still holding onto his hand until Dazai lets go.
And suddenly Chuuya feels the missing warmth of the taller boy‘s hand and missing the comfort that went along with it. Holding hands has become such a natural gesture for them over the years that he doesn’t even realize until he lost the contact. He does like it. It‘s an innocent, kind of cute thing if he were honest. And very comforting in a way.
Not that Chuuya would ever admit that out loud. He hates the way heat rises up in his cheeks at the thought.
Dispelling said thought, Chuuya takes a seat beside the brunet, letting Atsushi sit across from them. Normally, Chuuya would be the one sitting across from Dazai at restaurants or Cafés.
But since Chuuya doesn’t know Atsushi all that well— it would honestly be kind of awkwardly to sit next to him now. Atsushi seems like he doesn’t necessarily want to sit next to Dazai either. So he ends up next to Dazai‘s side.
Grabbing the menu from one of those metal holders, his eyes scan over the drinks options and go through them one by one. Until his eyes land on a specific drink. Perfect, he thinks. His absolute favorite outside of alcohol.
Passing the menu to Atsushi‘s side, Chuuya turns to Dazai.
With a questioning look, he whispers: "Mind telling me what’s going on?“
The boy, who is looking back and forth between the two every now and then, gazes towards Atsushi.
The boy seems to be completely immersed in his own world, deciding on drinks. After confirming that Atsushi isn’t paying attention to them, the brunet suddenly moved even closer to Chuuya. He tucks Chuuya‘s strand of hair to the side and covers one side of his mouth with his hand and whispers back: „Atsushi‘s got a crush on one of the waiters here.“
He pauses. Atsushi‘s got a… what?!
Chuuya‘s brain short circuits for a moment. Then, with his mouth still agape and furrowed brows, he mouths: „What, seriously?!“ Dazai puts a hand over his mouth. With the other, he signals for Chuuya to be silent.
He looks like he’d silently praying for Atsushi to not notice— right, Atsushi. The first time he saw the white haired boy was when he was still in fourth grade. Atsushi had been so pure and innocent— honestly very sweet despite them not knowing each other that well. Two years had passed since then. Now, he’s not even in middle school and suddenly he‘s got a crush?!
Suddenly, the train of shocking thoughts were rudely interrupted as a waiter came up to them.
„Hello and what can I get for you today?“ a black haired waiter, looking surprisingly young for someone working at a Café. Chuuya reckons he’s even younger than them.
Chuuya blinks. He had known that Atsushi was bisexual— but he didn’t exactly think his type would be.. his complete opposite.
Literally, the waiter’s covered in black from head to toe.
And just as his eyes leave Dazai‘s and land on Atsushi‘s, he sees a completely frozen up twelve-year-old.
Said twelve-year-old looks like he just saw the sun up close with how red his cheeks are.
Ah, so that’s our culprit.
Dazai nudges him under the table. „I‘ll explain everything later, slug. Play along.“
No one speaks up first. Wether it‘s because they physically can’t— or is planning something. For Chuuya, it’s just because the intrusion was sudden and made his throat leap out of his chest.
So, after a few awkward moments, Chuuya decides to speak up first. „Eh— we‘ll take the— cold brew, one cup of ginger tea and a side of crab.“ He nods, noting their order down on a notepad he holds on his palm. The boy then proceeds looks back at Atsushi, who thankfully seems to be calmer now. Well— calm enough to order for himself, thankfully.
He did not need to be on babysitting duty again. Babysitting Kyouka already made him lose enough braincells for his lifetime.
„And you, sir?“ the waiter asks, now looking directly at Atsushi.
A certain someone turns bright red.
„Eh- uhm I’ll take the orange juice thank you!“ he says, way too rushed for someone who is pretending to be calm.
The waiter gives them a half smile and Chuuya swears he could feel the other boy silently combust from the other side of the table.
Finally, as the waiter walks away, the redhead immediately shoots a questioning look across the table.
„So, Atsushi, how you’ve been?“
„Ah, Chuuya-San— I mean Chuuya, everything‘s been fine, thank you! What about you?“
„Uneventful, as always.“
Dazai suddenly spreads his hands out on the table and lays his head in between, sighing dramatically. Chuuya side-eyes him.
„Oh how boring life is when there‘s absolutely nothing to do!“ he complains, but then peeked up as an idea seemingly popped in his mind.
The idea, he thinks, way too familiar with that look, is nothing good.
„Of course, they’re reopening the summer festival this Friday! We should all totally go!“
Chuuya looks at him, bewildered.
„Wha- I thought you hated places like that-„ Chuuya‘s confusion was cleared up (cut abruptly short) by the brunet as he got a hand slapped over his mouth for what, the umpteenth time?
„No I don’t, Chuuya‘s being a bad doggie again!“
Ignoring the dog comment that totally didn’t affect him, Chuuya frowns. „What the hell‘s wrong with you today?“
„Nothing,“ Dazai defends, redirecting the conversation. „What about you, Atsushi? What do you suppose?“
„Eh- well I mean—„ Atsushi was cut off mid sentence— „You could bring friends of your own too,“ Dazai beams, while Chuuya promptly understands.
„We‘ll invite others too, right? The bigger the group, the more fun we‘ll have!“ Dazai speaks as if he’s giving Atsushi a choice, even though talking from years of experience— he definitely isn’t. He’s just pretending to be nice.
That poor boy will be dragged along wether he likes it or not— Chuuya has learned that years ago and eventually gave up trying to go against Dazai‘s plans.
He isn’t planning to give Atsushi any say in this— especially if he’s planning to do what Chuuya thinks he’s going to do.
Chuuya nods. „I agree, wouldn’t it be nice? I don’t have any plans for the upcoming summer. Do you?“
Atsushi shakes his head.
„Nope, not until now, at least.“
A smirk forms on the brunet‘s lips. „Well, you’re about to have a lot!“ he claims, „especially with your new boyfriend, right?“
The moment the word ‚boyfriend‘ comes out of Dazai‘s mputh, Atsushi nearly chokes as Chuuya tries not to die of laughter.
„Oh, new boyfriend? Why didn’t you tell me, Atsushi-Kun?“ Chuuya teases. Perfect timing, he internally cheers as the waiter from earlier comes back with their tray and a questioning expression.
Probably due to how loud they are.
He, much to Chuuya and Dazai‘s dismay (and Atsushi‘s delight) silently sets their drinks on the table, along with the order of crab.
The waiter hurries away without so much as a smile.
That’s not very kind! Leaving a lovestruck teenage boy like that… not even a smile from you?!
Yep, he understands why Dazai‘s interfering where he normally doesn’t now.
They‘re hopeless.
Dazai takes a sip of his tea, keeping on eye on the waiter who is slowly walking out of sight.
„So, what are you guys‘ business with each other?“
He stammers, „I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Dazai-San…“ Although he has the guilty face of someone who knows just exactly what they’re talking about.
„I heard his name was Akutagawa. He has a sister and is actually the sweetest soul known to mankind! Although he’s usually cold with outsiders.“ Dazai gives him a knowing look.
„But he doesn’t seem to be cold to you, right Atsushi-Kun?“ Atsushi gives no verbal answer to that. But the way he holds up his hands and buries his blushing face in them is enough to confirm all their suspicions. „I was thinking—“
Dazai’s words are cut off, thankfully, by Chuuya himself this time.
„You could invite him to the summer festival, if you want of course.“
Atsushi looks down, guilty. After a few moments of silence, he sighs a sigh of resignation. „Okay— fine.“
Chuuya has a triumphant grin plastered on his face at the response.
Ah, nothing like a sweet, sweet feeling of victory.
„But I don’t know how..“
Luckily for Atsushi, Chuuya has a feeling Dazai already knows what Atsushi doesn’t.
„That‘s why you have us! Let the best schemer here help! So, what you’re going to do is…“
—
By the end of it, the table is filled with laughter.
The thing is— only two of them are laughing, the third one is turning as red as a tomato and desperately covering his face with his hoodie.