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Dazai never liked school.
She didn’t like the people, the classes or anything else there, really.
Nothing challenged her or made being there interesting.
Until a certain redhead was announced as a new student in her class.
huh
The short girl had shaggy strawberry blonde hair that went just slightly down her shoulders. She wore a stern facial expression and dark red eyeliner that made her brown eyes look gorgeous.
“Why don’t you introduce yourself?”
The teacher encouraged her. The girl gave him a light nod and turned around to write something on the board.
Nakahara Chuuya.
The girl- Chuuya turned around and decided to introduce herself properly.
“My name is Nakahara Chuuya and I, uhh,” She hesitated, not knowing what to say. Dazai smirked. This will be fun.
“I switched schools because my brother got a job around this area and that’s basically it.” Chuuya continued, seeming uninterested.
“That’s nice! You can take a seat now, Nakahara.” The teacher smiled at her. Chuuya just nodded and sat down right in front of Dazai. Dazai’s smile got wider.
Around twenty minutes into the lesson Dazai got bored and decided to terrorise her new classmate. She ripped a piece of paper out of her notebook crumpled it into a ball and threw it at the back of Chuuyas head.
She immediately turned around and glared at the brunette. “The fuck do you want?” she spat.
Dazai sighed dramatically and laid her head down on her table, pouting.
“This class is so boringg!!” she complained. The brunette smiled sweetly before adding:“Don’t you think so, slug?” staring at the other girl expectantly.
Chuuya furrowed her brows and glared even harder. “Who the hell are you calling a slug you asshole?” she spat, clearly offended. Then she paused and picked up the crumpled paper from the ground and threw it right at the taller girl’s face.
The paper hit Dazai square in the nose and bounced back onto her desk.
She blinked.
Then a slow grin spread across her face, the kind of grin that made people around her instinctively nervous. The girl sitting to her left edged her chair a few inches away.
“You’ve got decent aim,” she picked up the paper ball and inspected it before returning her attention back to Chuuya, “For a slug.”
“It’s Chuuya, you bitch.”
“Oh, chibi you say? Fits you perfectly!”
Chuuya's eye twitched. She opened her mouth to argue, but the teacher cleared his throat loudly from the front of the room. Both of them snapped their heads forward.
"Is there a problem, ladies?"
"No," they said in unison. Then glared at each other for the crime of agreeing on something.
The teacher narrowed his eyes but continued the lesson. Dazai spent the next ten minutes doodling tiny slugs with angry expressions onto her worksheet.
When the bell finally rang, Dazai stretched with an exaggerated groan. "Finally. I was about to die of boredom."
Chuuya ignored her and started shoving her things into her bag.
Dazai inspected the slug before she decided that she was not going to leave this girl alone until she calls the police on her.
Maybe she wouldn’t go that far.
Or maybe she would.
Suddenly the bandaged girl noticed Chuuya walking out the door. She immediately picked up her own bag to follow the redhead.
When she caught up Dazai stopped and tapped the other girl on the shoulder.
“Hello there, slug!” she hushed.
Chuuya flinched. “What the fuck?? You stalkin’ me too now?” she said, looking at Dazai like she just promised to share a piece of human meat with her.
The taller girl gasped “How rude! I just wanted to give you a nice tour of the school!” she said, as if it was the most normal thing someone would say after throwing a paper ball at your head.
Chuuya paused mid-step. She looked at Dazai with obvious suspicion. "Why would you do that?"
Dazai tilted her head and smiled innocently, which looked about as natural on her as a cat wearing a hat. "Because I'm a kind and helpful classmate?"
"You literally just tried to fight me twenty minutes ago."
"And now I'm offering a tour. People grow, Chuuya."
Chuuya stared at her for a long moment. Something flickered in her brown eyes wariness, maybe. Curiosity. Definitely annoyance.
"...Fine. But if you try anything, I'll punch your guts out.”
"Promises, promises."
Chuuya rolled her eyes and started walking, forcing Dazai to scramble to catch up.
“So over there is the cafeteria where the food is somehow both too greasy and too dry. Wouldn’t recommend the meatloaf unless you want to meet god early.” Dazai said, gesturing vaguely at a set of double doors.
Chuuya snorted despite herself. “Noted.”
“The building over there is the gymnasium. Boring, unless you somehow enjoy running in a circle for half an hour. Personally I think it’s a waste of energy.”
“You’d rather just sit around and rot?”
Dazai smirked at the chibi. “I prefer to think of it as conserving my brilliance.”
Chuuya tried to look annoyed but the corner of her mouth twitched in amusement.
They walked around the corner and saw two girls standing in front of a vending machine. One of them had whiteish short hair with black streaks. She looked like she was scolding the other, slightly taller girl whom had long silky black hair and wore a long dark skirt.
“Akutagawa! You can’t get water for free by kicking the machine!”
“Shut up, Jinko. I can figure this out myself.”
Chuuya followed Dazai’s gaze to the pair at the vending machine. The black haired girl, Akutagawa, apparently was now glaring at the vending machine like it had personally insulted her.
“She’s gonna kick it again.” Dazai said, smirking at the scene in front of them.
“Yeah I know, idiot, I’ve got eyes.”
As predicted, Akutagawa kicked the side of the machine with a dull thunk.
Nothing happened. The shorter girl beside her, the one with the short white hair, sighed with the exhaustion of someone who had watched this exact scene play out a hundred times before.
"Told you," Akutagawa muttered.
"You didn't tell me anything. You just kicked it."
"Actions speak louder than words."
"That's not-“ The light-haired girl pinched the bridge of her nose. "That's not how that expression works, Ryunosuke."
Chuuya smirked. “Friends of yours?”
“Acquaintances” Dazai said, waving a hand.
“Akutagawa’s in my literature club. Reluctantly. She says I’m insufferable, which I take as a compliment. The other one’s Atsushi. She switched schools around a year ago and handles the club budget because nobody else trust Akutagawa with money.”
“… And you?” Chuuya questioned.
Dazai smiled sweetly. "I'm not allowed within ten feet of the club funds. Something about an 'incident' involving a 'misplaced' three thousand yen and a 'perfectly reasonable' bet on whether a teacher could juggle."
Chuuya stared at her. "That's not a real sentence."
"It's a real memory!”
Before Chuuya could decide whether to laugh or walk away, Akutagawa spotted the two of them. Her eyes narrowed at Dazai.
“Dazai.”
“Akutagawa-chan!” Dazai beamed. “Still trying to liberate beverages through violence, I see.”
“The machine is defective.”
“The machine is indifferent, there’s a difference!”
Atsushi gave Chuuya an apologetic look. “Sorry that you’re seeing this, she’s not usually-“ she paused. “Actually no this is pretty normal.”
Chuuya crossed her arms. “Great. So this school isn’t any different than a mental asylum.”
“Makes sense that you’re here with us then.” Dazai chirped.
“Dazai I swear to god-“
The chibi didn’t get to finish her threat, because at that exact moment the vending machine decided to cooperate. A plastic bottle of water fell to the floor.
“Told you.” Akutagawa looked at Atsushi, a small smile on her lips.
The tiger girl looked like she needed to lay down.
“Oh well, I apologise but me and my new friend here,” Dazai put her hands on Chuuya’s shoulders who audibly flinched.
“are gonna have to finish this tour before lunch starts and we still have about… half an hour!” The brunette smiled at Akutagawa and Atsushi.
“We’re not friends, asshole. I’m here by force.” Chuuya replied to the others statement, batting Dazai’s hands away.
Dazai slapped a hand to her chest, her eyes widening in exaggerated betrayal. “Wow chibi! How dare you say something so cruel!”
Akutagawa raised an eyebrow at the two and exchanged a look with Atsushi, who just smiled awkwardly.
“Well, me and Ryu also have to get back to class now.” Atsushi said, taking Akutagawa’s hand and walking down the hall. Dazai swore she saw the dark haired girl’s cheeks reddened.
Dazai watched Atsushi drag Akutagawa down the hall with a knowing smile. Then she spun back to Chuuya, clapping her hands together.
"Right! Where were we?"
"Your kidnapping attempt."
Dazai scoffed. “I was giving you a tour not kidnapping you.” She resisted the urge to add ‘at least not yet’.
“Doesn’t matter, it’s the same thing with you.” The redhead replied.
The taller girl smirked and started walking backwards, facing Chuuya with her hands clasped behind her back. "Next up is my personal favorite spot on campus. Quiet, undisturbed, perfect for skipping class if you feel like it.”
“Sounds depressing.”
“Only if you lack imagination.”
Chuuya followed the other despite her remarks, shoving her hands into her pockets. Her eyes were filled with curiosity. (And annoyance, obviously.)
Dazai led her around the side of the main building, leading her past a row of vending machines and storage sheds, until they reached a staircase that curled up the exterior wall to a rooftop access door.
"It's locked," Chuuya said flatly.
Dazai grinned and pulled a key from her pocket. “Not for long!”
The slug stared at the key, then at Dazai’s smug face and then back at the key.
“How’d you get that?”
The taller girl twirled the key around her fingers. “I’ve got my ways, chibiko.”
Chuuya had an unimpressed expression on her face. “You stole it.”
Dazai frowned. “Do you really think that low of me, Chuuya?” she said, batting her eyes.
“Yes.”
“Of course I didn’t steal it.” I acquired it through negotiation.” she smirked.
“From who?”
“The janitor!”
Chuuya blinked. “You negotiated with the janitor for a rooftop key?”
“I convinced him that I needed a quiet place where I could reflect on my academic shortcomings.” Dazai shrugged. “He was very moved by my story.”
“He gave you a rooftop key because you said you needed a place to study?”
The redhead obviously wasn’t convinced.
“He gave me the key because I promised to stop setting off the fire extinguishers in the west wing.”
Chuuya opened her mouth. Closed it. And opened it again.
“You did what??”
“I even added pink foam to make it look prettier.” Dazai giggled.
“I’ve known you for approximately forty minutes and I’m already considering changing schools again.”
A smirk grew on Dazai face.
Suddenly she took one of Chuuya’s hands and put the key onto her palm. The brunette felt the other girl freeze.
Chuuya started at the key in her hand like it might bite her. Then she looked up the rooftop door. There was something unreadable in her gaze. She sighed and looked back at Dazai’s annoyingly smug face.
“You want me to go on a rooftop,” Chuuya said slowly. “with you?” The girl furrowed her eyebrows.
“I gave you my key, slug! That means I trust you. You should be flattered.” Dazai exclaimed, putting her hands on her hips. The girl paused before walking up to the rooftop door, smiling to herself. She turned around and watched Chuuya expectantly.
Chuuya should have just walked the other way right there. She should have thrown the key to the floor and walked away. To the library, maybe. Somewhere quiet and peaceful. Somewhere far from the lanky girl covered in bandages and wearing that insufferable grin.
Instead, she followed.
The rooftop was dusty, scattered with a few crushed cigarette butts and a single bent paperclip that looked like it had been there for years. Chuuya stood with her arms crossed, clearly waiting for an explanation.
"So?" she said flatly. "You gonna tell me why you dragged me up here, or do you just enjoy wasting people's time?"
Dazai spun around on her heel, arms spread wide. "I'm showing you the best spot in the entire school, slug! The view is gorgeous, you can see the whole city from here. Well, most of it. Well, a slice of it. A very specific slice if you squint."
Chuuya stared at her. Then she walked past Dazai to the edge of the railing and looked out.
For a moment, she was quiet.
Dazai watched her, head tilted. "Well?"
“It’s… not terrible.” Chuuya admitted, looking down at the buildings below. The cars looked like tiny beetles from that high. In the distance, the mountains sat under the beautiful sky. It was better than “not terrible” but Chuuya wasn’t going to admit that.
Chuuya walked away from the railing, brushing a stray strand of hair from her face.
"We should head back before someone notices we're gone."
"Let them notice," Dazai said, still perched on the ledge. "Maybe they'll send a search party. That'd be exciting!"
"Or they'll just mark us as truants and call our parents."
"Boring." Dazai hopped down. She tucked her hands into her pockets and smiled her usual cat-like smile. "Fine. But only because you asked so nicely."
"I didn't ask. I stated."
"Same thing."
They made their way back down the stairwell, their footsteps echoing in the halls. The air grew warmer with every step they walked. By the time they reached the second floor, Dazai started humming a melody that Chuuya didn’t recognise.
It sounded nice.
Chuuya stopped at the door to their classroom.
She hesitated, her hand hovering over the handle.
"If you tell anyone about this-"
"I'll tell everyone you cried and confessed your undying love for me," Dazai interrupted cheerfully.
Chuuya's face flushed. "I will push you down these stairs."
"You'd miss me too much."
"I'd throw a party."
Dazai grinned, wide and genuine, and for a split second the mask slipped. Chuuya caught it, the slight softening in those dark eyes.
Then the door swung open and the teacher's voice cut through the moment.
"Glad you two could join us. We were just about to send a search party." He said in a sarcastic tone.
Dazai swept into the room with a dramatic bow.
"So sorry, sensei. I was giving our new student a tour of the campus. She got lost."
"I didn't get lost-" Chuuya started.
"Very lost. Wandered into the boy's bathroom at one point. Tragic."
"That's a lie!"
The teacher sighed, rubbing his temples.
"Just sit down. Both of you."
Dazai sat down, watching the girl in front of her with a satisfied expression on her face.
Lunch was as chaotic as usual.
When Dazai arrived in the cafeteria she immediately spotted her friends Yosano Akiko and Edogawa Ranpo. They sat at the table closest to the windows and the entrance. Ranpo was waving his hand, motioning for Dazai to come to their table.
When she sat down, the brunette immediately saw Akiko staring at her expectantly, raising one of her eyebrows.
”What? Does my hair look weird?” Dazai furrowed her brows. She turned to Ranpo, who wore a smug smile on his lips.
“Already terrorising the new girl, Osana?”
“Of course! Even though I wouldn’t go with terrorising, I would prefer ‘keeping her company.” Dazai grinned, twirling her hair.
The cafeteria noise faded into a dull hum as Ranpo leaned forward, his eyes glinting with mischief behind his glasses.
"Keeping her company, huh? Is that what we're calling it now?" He stabbed a piece of tofu with his chopsticks. "I saw you two heading up to the roof. The locked roof."
Dazai's grin didn't falter. "Observant as always, Ranpo-kun. You know, if you ever get bored of mystery novels, the police department could use someone with your skills."
"Don't change the subject." Akiko interrupted, setting down her chopsticks with a soft clack.
"You've never given anyone a tour before. You once told a transfer student that the library was haunted and they'd be cursed if they checked out any books."
"To be fair, that librarian does give off cursed vibes."
"Dazai."
The brunette sighed dramatically, dropping her chin into her palm. "Fine. She's interesting, okay? She threw a paper ball back at my face during first period. Hard. Right in the nose."
Both Akiko and Ranpo blinked.
“…And that's a good thing?" Ranpo asked slowly.
Dazai's smile turned soft around the edges, almost imperceptible. "It's been a while since someone actually fought back."
Akiko and Ranpo exchanged a look.
Before anyone could say more, a tray slammed down onto the table across from Dazai.
Chuuya stood there, arms crossed, glaring at the brunette like she'd personally offended three generations of her family.
”You didn’t save me a seat.”
Dazai's eyes widened, genuinely surprised.
"You wanted to sit with me?"
"I wanted to sit somewhere that didn't have a mysterious sticky substance on the table," Chuuya said flatly, gesturing vaguely behind her. "Your table was the least disgusting option."
Akiko snorted. Ranpo hid a smile behind his hand.
Dazai patted the seat beside her. "Well then, slug, have a seat. I promise the company is almost as good as the view from the roof."
Chuuya hesitated for exactly two seconds before sliding into the seat, keeping her back straight and her eyes sharp.
"So," Akiko said, tilting her head. "You're the new girl. Nakahara, right?"
"Just Chuuya’s fine." She corrected.
"I'm Yosano Akiko. The one with the glasses and the concerning amount of energy is Ranpo."
"Concerning?" Ranpo gasped. "I'm delightful!"
"You're exhausting," Akiko and Dazai said in unison.
Chuuya's lips twitched. Just barely. But Dazai caught it.
Third period was physics. Dazai didn’t mind physics since Atsushi was also in her class, but it was still pretty boring and their teacher seemed to hate her for no reason.
Well, Dazai did put a fake grenade into the teachers bag, but it wasn’t real so she didn’t see a problem.
After lunch Dazai was kind enough to walk Chuuya to her class, which was biology. The redhead didn’t seem too excited about that though, so Dazai decided to cheer her up by telling her about that one time she got drunk and threw up on her ex a few years ago.
So now Dazai was sitting here, third row from the window, chin resting on her palm as the physics teacher droned on about velocity.
Atsushi sat two seats to her left, furiously taking notes like her life depended on it.
Dazai had doodled three slugs and a stick figure version of Chuuya flipping her off in the margins of her worksheet before the boredom became physically painful.
She glanced at the clock. Twenty-three minutes left.
Dazai sighed, loud and theatrical. The teacher paused mid-sentence.
"Something you'd like to share, Dazai?"
"Nope. Just expressing my enthusiasm for physics." She smiled sweetly.
The teacher narrowed her eyes but continued.
Atsushi shot Dazai a look that said please behave.
Dazai just smirked at her in return.
She spent the next ten minutes crafting a paper airplane out of her velocity worksheet. Careful folds, precise edges. When it was done, she aimed it at the back of the head of the boy in front of her, a kid named Kunikida who had once ratted her out for cheating on a pop quiz.
She let it fly.
The plane sailed through the air, curved slightly left, and smacked Kunikida right in the ear.
He yelped.
The teacher spun around. "What was that?"
Kunikida pointed at Dazai, face red. "She threw something at me!"
Dazai looked at him with wide, innocent eyes. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I've been sitting here quietly, pondering the mysteries of velocity."
"Velocity doesn't make you throw paper airplanes!"
"Maybe not for you."
The teacher pinched the bridge of her nose.
"Dazai, detention. Friday. Don't bother arguing."
Dazai slumped in her seat with a dramatic groan. "But sensei, Friday is when I water my plants."
"Then they'll be thirsty."
Behind her, someone snickered. She turned to see Tanizaki, a quiet boy with glasses, hiding his laugh behind his hand. Dazai winked at him. He turned red and looked away.
When the bell finally rang, Dazai bolted out of her seat before the teacher could finish her sentence. She weaved through the hallway, dodging students and backpacks, until she spotted a familiar flash of strawberry blonde hair near the lockers.
"Slug!"
Chuuya turned, already looking annoyed.
"What?"
"How was biology? Did you dissect anything exciting?"
"We labeled parts of a cell."
"Cells are boring. You should ask for a frog next time." Dazai fell into step beside her, matching her pace. "So, what's your next class?"
"Why do you care?"
"I'm being a kind and helpful friend!”
Chuuya stopped walking and turned to face her fully. Her brown eyes searched Dazai's face for a moment.
"You're weird," she said finally. "And annoying. And I'm pretty sure you're insane."
"Thank you!"
"That wasn't a compliment."
"I'm choosing to take it as one."
Chuuya shook her head, but a small smile tugged at her lips. She started walking again, and Dazai followed.
"History," Chuuya said after a moment. "Third floor."
"Oh, I have history too!" Dazai clasped her hands together. "We can walk together. Bond. Share our hopes and dreams."
"Don't you have friends to bother?"
"I'm bothering you because you're new and special."
Chuuya groaned. "Is there any way to make you stop talking, mackerel?”
"Mackerel? That’s new." A smirk grew on Dazai’s lips. Chuuya ignored her and just kept walking.
They walked up the stairs together, their footsteps echoing in the stairwell. Dazai hummed that same melody from the rooftop, and Chuuya pretended not to notice how it settled into her chest like something warm.
By the time they reached the history classroom, Dazai held the door open with an exaggerated bow.
"After you, slug."
Chuuya walked past her, muttering something under her breath that sounded suspiciously like idiot but Dazai heard the softness underneath.
She smiled to herself and followed her in.
Chuuya sat down in a seat in the second row next to the window. Then Dazai slid into the seat right next to her before the redhead could protest. Dazai dropped her bag to the floor with a loud thud.
The chibi shot her a look. "There are empty seats on the other side of the room."
"I know." Dazai pulled out a notebook that was blank except for a single doodle of a stick figure falling off a cliff in the corner. "But those don't have you in them."
Chuuya's eye twitched. She turned to face the front, arms crossed.
The teacher, a tired-looking man with glasses perched low on his nose, began droning about the Meiji Restoration. Dazai listened for approximately forty-five seconds before her mind wandered.
She started drawing in the margin of her notebook. A small figure with strawberry blonde hair and an angry expression. A speech bubble that said: I will kill you, mackerel.
She slid the notebook over so Chuuya could see.
The reaction was immediate. A sharp elbow to Dazai's ribs.
"Ow," Dazai whispered, rubbing her side with genuine surprise. "That actually hurt."
"Good."
Dazai grinned and wrote underneath the drawing: Feisty slug. Attempted murder in third period. Impressive.
She pushed the notebook back.
Chuuya glanced at it, her jaw tightening. She picked up a pen, scribbled something, and shoved it back without looking.
Dazai looked down.
I’ll do worse if you don’t shut up
Dazai's grin widened. She wrote: You're adorable when you're angry.
Chuuya's ears went red.
For the next twenty minutes, their notebook passed back and forth like a tennis match.
Insults. Threats. A surprisingly detailed sketch of Dazai being eaten by a whale. Dazai retaliated with a drawing of Chuuya riding a slug into battle, wielding a tiny sword.
At one point, Chuuya accidentally let out a snort, loud enough for the teacher to pause.
"Is there something funny, Nakahara?"
Chuuya's face went crimson. "No, sensei. I just... coughed."
"A cough?"
"A weird cough."
The teacher stared at her for a long moment, then continued the lesson.
Dazai pressed her hand over her mouth to stifle her laughter, shoulders shaking. Chuuya kicked her shin under the table.
The final bell rang like a starting pistol. Students poured out of the school in waves, conversations buzzing, bags thumping against backs, shoes scuffing against the concrete steps.
Chuuya packed her bag faster than Dazai had ever seen anyone move.
"You're insufferable," she said, standing up.
"You keep saying that, but you still sat next to me."
"I sat where there was space."
“There was space elsewhere too, but you didn’t sit there.” Dazai looked up the girl with amusement in her eyes.
Chuuya opened her mouth, closed it, and then grabbed her bag and walked out without another word.
But Dazai noticed she didn't walk that fast. And when she reached the door, she paused for half a second, just long enough to glance back.
Dazai waved.
Chuuya turned away, but not before Dazai caught the smallest hint of a smile.
When Dazai walked out of the building, she immediately spotted Chuuya standing at the front gate, typing something on her phone.
Dazai leaned against the railing a few meters away and watched.
For about five seconds.
Then she walked over, stopped next to Chuuya, and stood there in silence.
Chuuya didn't look up from her phone. "Go away."
"You don't know it's me."
"Your footsteps are loud and you smell like bandages and despair." She finally glanced up. "And I have eyes. Obviously it's you."
Dazai smirked. “Bandages and despair? How flattering!” She bend over and perked down at the other girl’s phone.
“Who are you texting, chibi?”
Chuuya glanced up at her for approximately two seconds and then back at her phone. “My brother. Telling him I’m taking the bus home.”
"Ah. The brother with the job." Dazai nodded sagely. "Important figure. Mystery man. I imagine him wearing a trench coat and leather pants."
Chuuya snorted. “Well you’re wrong. He’s not as mysterious as you think.”
Another silence settled between them, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was the kind of silence that felt more like a pause than a wall. Dazai noticed Chuuya's foot tapping, not with impatience, but with something else.
Restlessness, maybe.
"Hey, slug."
Chuuya's head snapped toward her. "I swear to god-“
Dazai pulled out her phone and held it up between them. ”Give me your number.”
Chuuya started at the phone like it was a ticking bomb. “Hah?”
"Your. Number." Dazai said slowly. "So I can text you when I'm bored. And by 'when I'm bored,' I mean always. And by 'text you,' I mean annoy you relentlessly."
Chuuya kept staring. Her expression shifted through several stages. Confusion, suspicion, mild annoyance, then something unexpected.
Something almost amused.
"You're insane," she said.
"Probably. Number?"
Chuuya hesitated. For a long moment, Dazai thought she might refuse. That she'd tell her to get lost and walk off to wait somewhere else.
Instead, Chuuya snatched the phone from her hand and typed a number into it. She shoved it back into Dazai's chest.
"If you spam me, I'll block you."
"You won't."
”I will.”
”You wont even want to.”
Chuuya rolled her eyes so hard it looked painful.
But she was smiling again. That small one she'd tried to hide at the end of class.
Suddenly Chuuya looked at the time on her phone and her eyes widened.
“Fuck! I’m gonna miss the bus!”
Chuuya shoved her phone into her pocket and bolted toward the gate without another word.
Her bag bounced against her back as she ran, strawberry blonde hair flying behind her.
Dazai watched her go, hands still in her pockets, that stupid grin plastered across her face.
"See you tomorrow, slug!" she called after her.
Chuuya didn't turn around, but she raised one hand in a vague wave that could have meant anything from "go die" to "I'll see you tomorrow."
Dazai chose to believe the latter.
She pulled out her phone and stared at the contact she'd just saved. No name yet—just a string of numbers that she'd memorized before Chuuya had even finished typing.
She saved it as: Angry Slug <3
Then she started to walk home, humming that familiar melody from the rooftop.
The front door clicked shut behind Chuuya, and she barely had time to set her bag down before Verlaine's voice cut through the apartment.
"Chuuya."
She froze. That tone meant trouble.
She found him in the kitchen, phone still in hand, expression unreadable. He was leaning against the counter, arms crossed, and he'd changed out of his work clothes into something more comfortable, but the tension in his shoulders hadn't eased.
"Your teacher called," he said.
Chuuya's stomach dropped. "Which one?"
"Homeroom. Yamada." He set the phone down slowly, deliberately. "He said there was an incident during first period involving a paper ball and a girl named Osana Dazai."
"It wasn't-"
"He said you two were told to stop talking multiple times." Verlaine's voice was calm, which somehow made it worse. "He said she threw something at your head, and you threw it back. Hard enough to hit her face."
Chuuya opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again.
"She started it."
"The call wasn't about who started it. It was about both of you being disruptive." Verlaine's eyes softened, just a fraction. "I'm not mad, Chuuya. I'm asking what happened."
She shuffled into the kitchen and dropped into a chair at the small dining table. The apple in the fruit bowl caught her eye, but she didn't reach for it.
"She threw a paper ball at my head during class. Called me a slug. I told her to fuck off and threw it back." Chuuya paused. "Then she followed me around at lunch. Gave me a tour of the school. Doodled in my notebook. Called me a slug about six more times."
Verlaine's lips twitched. "That's a lot of slug-calling."
"She's insufferable."
"And yet."
"And yet what?"
Verlaine sat down across from her, folding his hands on the table. "You don't usually let insufferable people follow you around. You would have told her to leave you alone and meant it."
Chuuya didn't have an answer for that.
"You were thinking it."
He stood, returning to the stove where a pot was simmering. "I was thinking that your first day was more interesting than I expected. And that I'm glad you told me the truth." He glanced over his shoulder.
"Also that I should probably keep my phone ringer on in case her parents call mine."
"They won't. She lives in a dorm or something. I don't think she has parents around."
Verlaine's hand stilled on the ladle. He didn't turn around.
"You got that from one conversation?"
"She mentioned it. Casually." Chuuya frowned, replaying a conversation on the rooftop in her head.
"Said she didn't have anyone to text if she jumped. She was joking. I think."
The kitchen was quiet for a long moment.
Then Verlaine said, softly, "Be careful with her, Chuuya."
"I'm not- we're not-"
"I know." He continued stirring. "But people who joke like that don't always mean it as a joke. And you've got a good heart. I just don't want it to get tangled up in something you can't fix."
Chuuya looked down at her hands.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket.
She pulled it out. A text from an unknown number.
Unknown: Hey there, chibi!! You got the history homework? I forgot my book,,,
She stared at it. Then, despite herself, she smiled.
"I think," she said slowly, "it might already be tangled."
Verlaine sighed from the stove. "I'm going to need more details about this girl."
"Over dinner?"
"Over dinner."
Chuuya typed back a response, You wish bandage freak, before setting her phone facedown on the table.
It buzzed again immediately. She didn't check it.
She wanted to. But she didn't.
The apartment was too quiet when Dazai walked in.
She paused in the doorway, one hand still on the knob. Usually Elise had some cartoon blaring on the TV, or Mori was on the phone with someone from work, or at the very least there was the hum of the old rice cooker.
Nothing.
She toed off her shoes and padded into the living room.
Mori sat in his armchair by the window, legs crossed, a glass of amber liquid resting on the armrest. His glasses caught the last orange light of the evening, hiding his eyes. Elise sat cross-legged on the floor beside him, a half-finished coloring book open in her lap. She wasn't coloring. She was watching the door.
Waiting.
Dazai's stomach tightened. She kept her face smooth.
"I'm home," she said, unnecessarily.
"So I see." Mori took a slow sip of his drink. He didn't ask how her day was. He never did. "You made a friend today."
It wasn't a question.
Dazai's mind flickered through a dozen responses and discarded all of them. She settled for a shrug and walked past him toward the kitchen. "I made an enemy. It's more entertaining."
"Nakahara Chuuya."
She stopped.
The refrigerator hummed. The clock on the wall ticked. Elise's crayon rolled off her coloring book and onto the carpet with a soft thump.
Dazai turned around slowly. Her smile was still in place, but it had gone a shade sharper at the edges. "You checked."
"I'm informed." Mori set his glass down and finally looked at her. His eyes were calm, assessing, the way a doctor looks at a patient who insists nothing is wrong. "Her brother, Verlaine, called me. He wanted to make sure there wouldn't be any—complications."
"Complications." Dazai repeated the word like it tasted bad. "From what? A paper ball?"
"From you."
The silence that followed was thick enough to choke on.
Elise picked up her crayon and returned to coloring—a deliberate, careful green for the grass, like she was trying very hard not to be part of the conversation. But Dazai caught the way her hand paused. The way she was listening.
Dazai laughed. It came out hollow and too loud in the quiet room. "I'm flattered he thinks I'm such a threat."
"He's cautious. His sister transferred schools because of an incident involving harassment at her previous one. He doesn't want a repeat."
Something cold settled in Dazai's chest. She didn't let it show.
"I'm not going to harass her," she said flatly. "I'm going to annoy her.”
Mori studied her for a long moment. Then he picked up his glass again and took another sip, the ice clinking softly. "See that you don't cross the line. I don't need that man breathing down my neck because you got bored."
"You never worry about me breathing down anyone's neck."
"No," Mori agreed, and his voice was perfectly mild. "I worry about you not knowing when to stop."
Dazai felt the words land like a paper, stinging more than they should.
She said nothing. She just turned back to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and stared at the contents without seeing them. The light hummed. The milk was half-empty. A leftover container of something she didn't remember eating sat on the middle shelf.
Dazai looked over her shoulder at the closed door of Mori's study. Then she turned back to the fridge, pulled out the leftover container, and set it on the counter.
"Let's order pizza," she said. "The really greasy kind."
Elise gasped. "You're going to get us in trouble."
"Probably."
"Okay." Elise ran to grab the phone. "Extra cheese?"
"Extra everything."
And for the rest of the night, Dazai didn't think about red hair or brown eyes or the weight of a calm, clinical voice telling her she didn't know when to stop.
She thought about pizza.
That was easier.