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Freshman year. Yep. Dazai is not impressed at all.
It's only a month into school and he's already bored, a new record. And even worse, he wasn't friends with anyone in this class. He stares blankly at the board, then back down at his assignment. Algebra. Easy, overall.
After about 20 minutes of just spacing out, someone walks in. Someone new. 'Interesting...'
"Sorry I'm late, I'm new to the school."
Dazai looks up discreetly to see the speaker, and his eyes widen, because this guy is kinda really pretty. Not in a feminine way, but in a way that says, "I could definitely beat your ass and complain about the blood getting on my sleeve". Dazai was allll for it.
The guy's ginger hair was unruly, but not in a way that suggests it's not taken care of, but in a "controlled enough to look good, but not overdoing it" way.
And he was slightly suntanned, so he's athletic, probably. His eyes, oh God, his eyes. They're two pits of sand and water, Hazel around the pupil and stormy water around it, and it makes Dazai practically go weak. 'Damn.'
Dazai watches the teacher tell him his seat, and thank the gods, he sits in the empty seat it front of Dazai. Someone's on his side here.
Dazai stares at the back of the ginger's head, thoughtful. How likely is it that the guy in front of him isn't straight and single? Very, very slim. Dazai sighs, long-suffering, and looks down at the assignment on his desk. No way that would happen.
"Hey, I dropped my pencil, it's next to your foot," whispered a soft but not soft spoken voice from in front of Dazai.
Dazai's heart dropped, but not in a bad way as he looks up. And is immediately breathless, because this guy is gorgeous. And waiting. Shit.
"Uh, yeah, sorry," Dazai mumbles, picking it up, and giving it to him, sheepish grin intact.
The guy nods and takes the pencil, turning back around. 'Ouch.'
Dazai decides to try to initiate a conversation after he finishes the assignment, and tears a piece of paper out of his Algebra journal, ignoring the glances from a couple of his peers for the noise, and starts writing is his loopy scrawl.
"I like you're hair. :)"
Perfect. Dazai folds it and slides it onto the corner of his desk, next to his arm, and he pauses. Before picking it up and unfolding it.
The ginger fidgets slightly with his hair for a second, before writing something back, and reaching back and putting the paper on dazai's desk.
"*Your. And thanks, I like your coat. I'm Chuuya Nakahara :)"
Dazai glances down at the coat he's wearing today, it's dark green and has a small few mishaps from when Dazai thought he could learn to embroider for fun. He couldn't, so now he just has a bunch of half assed designs and scribbles.
Dazai reads the name—Chuuya Nakahara—and instantly decides it's the prettiest name he's ever heard.
Chuuya Nakahara. And he corrected me. Noted