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Chuuya woke to a pillow hitting him directly in the face.
“Rise and shine, sleepyhead!”
The voice was far too cheerful for this early in the morning.
Worse, it was familiar.
With a groan, Chuuya used his ability on instinct. Gravity twisted sharply through the room, sending the offending pillow hurtling across the room hard enough to smack against the opposite wall.
“Ow!”
Dazai’s complaint lacked any real pain whatsoever. If anything, the bastard sounded delighted. Chuuya dragged a hand down his face before glaring blearily at the intruder standing beside his bed.
“What do you want from me??”
At this point, he didn’t even question how Dazai had gotten into his apartment anymore. The idiot had broken in so many times over the year that Chuuya had stopped being surprised around incident number twenty-three.
Dazai blinked once before his grin widened into something unbearable.
“Silly Chuuya,” he sang, clasping his hands together, “don’t you know? We have the day off today!”
Chuuya paused.
What?
“…What?”
“A day off!” Dazai repeated, throwing his arms dramatically into the air like he was announcing some sort of national holiday. The sleeves of his coat slipped down his wrists as he moved, messy brown curls falling into his eyes. “No missions. No paperwork. No Mori. Just me and a tiny little slug!”
Chuuya stared at him flatly.
“We’ve literally never had a day off before,” he said slowly. “What’s the occasion?”
“I asked Mori for it.”
That alone was horrifying enough to wake him up properly.
Before Chuuya could respond, Dazai flopped forwards onto him with zero warning, draping himself over him like some kind of oversized cat.
“So I can spend the day with my least favorite human ever!”
“Ew-get off of me, freak!”
Heat immediately crawled across Chuuya’s face, which only irritated him further. Dazai, naturally, did not move an inch.
Chuuya shoved at him halfheartedly. “And besides, if I really had a day off, I wouldn’t spend it with you.”
Dazai giggled. Actually giggled. Like a complete lunatic.
“It’s cute that you think this was optional!”
Chuuya pinched the bridge of his nose, already feeling a headache coming on behind his eyes. Unfortunately, Dazai had apparently decided this was one of those days where shame no longer applied to him. Which, admittedly, wasn’t much different from usual.
“Get dressed,” Dazai announced suddenly. Then he rolled straight off the bed. Chuuya stared down at him as he landed face first onto the carpet with a dramatic thud. “Did you just throw yourself onto my floor on purpose?”
“Yes.”
“…Why?”
Dazai lifted his head just enough to look at him. Figures even while literally being lower than him he'd somehow find a way to look down on him. “I thought it would make you laugh.”
“It didn’t.”
Dazai sighed wistfully from the carpet. “You’re so coldhearted.”
“You broke into my apartment before sunrise.”
“And yet you continue letting me.”
“That implies I have a choice.”
Dazai pointed at him triumphantly from the floor. “Exactly! You understand me perfectly.”
“I understand that you’re insane.”
“Maybe,” Dazai admitted easily. “But we’re still going out.”
“No.”
“We’re going out.”
“I said no.”
Dazai gasped, pressing a hand to his chest. “Chuuya, your cruelty wounds me deeply.”
“Good.”
Unfortunately, Dazai had apparently decided persistence was the path to victory today. He remained sprawled across the floor, humming to himself obnoxiously while Chuuya tried very hard to ignore him into nonexistence. It would’ve worked better if Dazai wasn’t directly in the middle of his room.
Or if Chuuya’s stupid traitorous brain would stop noticing things.
Like how Dazai’s curls were flattened unevenly from sleep, soft strands brushing the back of his neck. Or how the weak morning sunlight filtering through the curtains caught against his skin, softening him into warm gold instead of ghost pale. Or the fact that he looked…
Stupid?
Chuuya frowned harder at the thought.
Yeah. Stupid.
“Why are you staring at me?” Dazai asked suddenly.
“I’m not," he lied lyingly.
“You are.”
“You’re literally on my floor.”
“And you’re literally looking at me.”
Chuuya grabbed the nearest pillow and launched it directly at his face.
Dazai cackled.
“I’ll take that as an act of affection!”
“I’ll take your funeral arrangements into consideration.”
Still laughing, Dazai climbed back to his feet and leaned halfway out the bedroom doorway.
“Come onnnn. I already planned everything.”
That made Chuuya immediately suspicious.
“You planned things?”
“Yep!”
“…That’s terrifying.”
Dazai only grinned wider.
Chuuya stared at him for another long moment before groaning loudly into his hands. There was absolutely no winning against him once he got like this. Dazai would simply continue existing in his apartment indefinitely out of spite.
“Fine,” Chuuya muttered at last. “But if this day sucks, I’m killing you.”
Dazai perked up so fast it was almost violent. “Yay!”
“That is not a normal response to being threatened.”
“No," Dazai agreed cheerfully, "but it is a normal response to getting to spend the day with you.”
Chuuya blinked.
Dazai blinked back.
The words settled strangely in his chest before he could stop them. Then Dazai smiled again—easy and bright and entirely unaware of the damage he caused simply by existing—and the moment shattered instantly.
“Now hurry up!” he said. “You take forever to get ready.”
Chuuya scowled as he shoved past him toward the bathroom.
“I hate you.”
Dazai’s laughter followed him down the hall.
“Sure you do, Chuuya.”
♡
The city looked aggravatingly pretty in the morning. Sunlight spilled across the sidewalks in long streaks, catching in windows and puddles leftover from last night’s rain. Shops were only just beginning to open, sleepy employees dragging signs outside while the scent of fresh bread drifted from nearby cafes.
Beside him, Dazai hummed happily under his breath. Chuuya hated mornings. More specifically, he hated Dazai in the mornings. And always, of course.
But there was something uniquely unbearable about how energetic he became before noon, all long limbs and relentless chatter and dramatic gestures that nearly sent pedestrians diving out of the way.
“Chuuyaaaa,” Dazai whined suddenly, grabbing at his sleeve. “I’m hungry.”
“You’re always hungry.”
“And whose fault is that?”
“How would that possibly be my fault?”
Dazai ignored the question entirely. “Let’s get food.”
“We literally left my apartment twenty minutes ago.”
“Yes," Dazai said gravely, "and I’ve suffered greatly during those twenty minutes.”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“I’m beautiful too, but thank you for noticing.”
Chuuya snorted before he could stop himself.
Dazai froze mid step.
Chuuya regretted everything immediately
“…Did you just laugh at my joke?” Dazai asked softly, like he’d spotted a rare endangered species.
“No.”
“You did!”
“I didn’t.”
“You think I’m funny.”
“I think you’re annoying.”
“But in an endea-”
“Finish that sentence and die.”
Dazai only laughed instead.
The sound echoed warm and bright through the street, drawing a few curious glances from nearby pedestrians. Chuuya looked away first. That was becoming a problem.
The worst part was that Dazai looked genuinely happy today. It wasn't a mocking expression he wore during meetings; not the empty boredom he carried during missions. This was different somehow. It did strange things to Chuuya’s heartbeat. His ugliness must be slowly giving him a heart disease or something.
“Oi,” he muttered after a moment. “Where are we even going?”
“It’s a surprise!”
“That’s not reassuring.”
Dazai grinned before abruptly grabbing Chuuya’s wrist and tugging him forward through the crowd.
“C’mon!”
“Dazai—”
Chuuya stumbled once before catching himself with a curse.
Dazai’s hand was cold against his skin. He should’ve pulled away immediately. Instead, he let Dazai drag him half a block before realizing what he was doing.
Embarrassing.
Especially because Dazai glanced back at him then, curls bouncing slightly in the sunlight, and smiled like he’d already noticed.
Bastard.
♡
The cafe Dazai dragged them into was tucked between two cramped bookstores, narrow enough that he might have missed it entirely on his own.
A bell chimed softly as they stepped inside. Warmth washed over them, thick with the smell of coffee and sugar. Quiet conversations blended beneath the soft music playing overhead while sunlight pooled across the polished floorboards. Chuuya barely had time to glance around the room before Dazai was already striding toward the counter like he owned the place.
“Two coffees!” he announced.
“One coffee,” Chuuya corrected.
The cashier looked between them with the exhausted expression of someone witnessing a public incident unfold in real time.
“And one hot chocolate,” Dazai continued smoothly.
Chuuya blinked. “What.”
“You don’t actually like coffee that much,” Dazai said, like he was explaining something painfully obvious. “You just drink it because you think it makes you look mature.”
“I am mature.”
Dazai stared at him.
Chuuya stared back.
The cashier quietly looked away.
“…I hate you,” Chuuya muttered.
“And yet I know your order by heart,” Dazai replied brightly.
That did something unpleasant to Chuuya’s chest. Maybe he should go to a doctor…
Before he could dwell on it for too long, Dazai had already paid and wandered off toward a booth near the window. Chuuya followed with significantly less enthusiasm.
Outside, sunlight spilled across the sidewalk in soft gold streaks while people drifted lazily through the streets. Inside, everything felt strangely warm.
Or maybe that was just because Dazai was sitting too close again.
A few minutes later, their drinks arrived alongside a plate of pastries he definitely hadn't asked permission to order.
“You’re paying for those yourself,” Chuuya informed him.
“Selfish. And I already did!”
“You bought enough sugar to kill a man.”
Dazai took an exaggerated bite of one pastry. “Then this is how I choose to die.”
“You say that every week.”
“And yet I’m still alive. Curious.”
Chuuya rolled his eyes before lifting his cup. The hot chocolate was perfect. Which was infuriating .
Dazai noticed, of course.
“You like it.”
“No I don’t.”
“You just made that face.”
“What face?”
“The face where you stop looking homicidal for three seconds.”
“I always look homicidal.”
“That’s true,” Dazai admitted thoughtfully. “But usually in a more homicidal-y way”
Chuuya kicked him lightly under the table.
Dazai looked absurdly delighted about it.
God, he was insufferable.
And unfairly pretty today.
The sunlight pouring through the window caught in his chestnut curls, softening the sharper lines of his features. It illuminated the pale skin beneath his bandages, the small moles scattered across his face and neck, the dark eyes that somehow looked less empty than usual.
Chuuya looked down at his drink quickly.
Dangerous.
That was dangerous territory.
“So,” Dazai said casually, resting his chin in his hand, “what would you do if you actually had a free day without me?”
Chuuya snorted. “Enjoy the peace and quiet.”
“Rude.”
“I’m serious.”
Dazai hummed softly. “I think you’d get bored.”
“I absolutely would not.”
“You would,” Dazai insisted. “You don’t know how to relax.”
“That’s rich coming from you.”
“It’s true though.” Dazai tilted his head slightly. “You’re always waiting for something bad to happen.”
The words landed harder than they should’ve.
Chuuya frowned faintly.
Dazai still looked relaxed, almost absentminded as he traced a finger through condensation on his glass, but there was something sharper underneath his tone now.
Observant in the way only Dazai could be. As if he’d peeled Chuuya open without effort.
Annoying.
Accurate.
Annoying because it was accurate?
“Psychoanalyzing me over pastries is creepy,” Chuuya muttered.
Dazai grinned, the strange moment vanishing as quickly as it came.
“But you love when I pay attention to you.”
“I could throw you through that window.”
“You’d miss me too much.”
Chuuya opened his mouth to argue automatically before stopping. Because the awful thing was, Dazai might actually be right. The thought hit him hard enough that he nearly choked on his drink. Dazai immediately burst into laughter.
“Oh my god,” he wheezed, “you do love me.”
“I’m going to kill you.”
Dazai looked entirely unbothered by the threat, still grinning into his coffee cup.
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
“It is when it involves you.”
“Mmm. I think not.”
“I think Yokohama would finally know peace.”
Dazai laughed again, softer this time. The sound settled warm beneath the low chatter of the cafe. Chuuya hated how much he liked hearing it.
Outside the window, the city drifted by lazily. People wandered through the sidewalks in small groups, sunlight spilling across the street. It felt strangely distant compared to the warmth tucked inside the cafe.
...Or maybe Dazai just had a way of making everything around him feel too close.
Dazai reached across the table suddenly.
Chuuya narrowed his eyes immediately. “Don’t.”
“I haven’t even done anything yet.”
“That’s never stopped you before.”
Ignoring him completely, Dazai plucked the untouched strawberry off Chuuya’s pastry and popped it into his mouth.
Chuuya stared at him in disbelief.
“…Did you seriously just steal from my plate?”
Dazai blinked innocently while chewing. “Communism.”
“That is not what communism is.”
“It is now...”
“You’re unbelievable.”
“And you’re in love with me.”
Chuuya kicked him harder this time.
"Ew! Gross!!" he exclaimed, not dramatically or anything though.
Dazai nearly slid sideways in the booth laughing. Several people glanced over. One elderly woman smiled at them knowingly as she passed their table. Chuuya wanted to die. Dazai really was rubbing off on him
“Oh no,” he said delightedly. “You’re embarrassed.”
“I am not.”
“You absolutely are.”
“I’m surrounded by idiots. Namely you.”
“And yet you chose to spend your day with me anyway.”
“You broke into my apartment.”
“But you still came with me voluntarily.”
Chuuya opened his mouth. Then closed it again. Technically Dazai was right. Again. Dazai’s grin softened around the edges as he watched the realization happen in real time.
There was something unfair about the way he looked like this. Sleepy from the morning still lingering in his expression.
“You’re staring again,” Dazai said quietly.
Chuuya looked away immediately. “Shut up.”
Dazai hummed.
A moment of silence settled between them; not awkward exactly, just gentler than usual. The kind Chuuya wasn’t entirely used to sharing with him. Dazai traced idle patterns against the side of his cup.
Then, unexpectedly: “Thanks for coming with me today.”
Chuuya blinked.
The words were simple. Casual, even. But Dazai almost never sounded sincere on purpose. Which meant Chuuya noticed immediately.
“…You’re being weird again.”
“I’m always weird.”
“More weirder than normal.”
Dazai smiled faintly into his drink. “Maybe I just wanted a day where it was only us.”
The cafe suddenly felt far too warm. Chuuya stared at him. Dazai didn’t look up, dark eyes fixed lazily on the coffee swirling in his cup, curls falling across his face in soft chestnut waves. As though he hadn’t just casually dropped something capable of ruining Chuuya’s entire emotional stability.
Weirdo.
“…That’s stupid,” Chuuya muttered weakly.
Dazai’s smile widened just slightly.
“Yeah,” he agreed softly. “Probably.”
Somehow that was worse. The silence after that became unbearable. Not exactly awkward. That would’ve been easier to deal with.
No, this was worse-soft and warm in a way Chuuya didn’t know what to do with. Dazai stayed relaxed across from him, lazily stirring the ice in his drink like he hadn’t just said something catastrophical and unfair.
Maybe he hadn’t even realized it. Dazai had a bad habit of saying things that lodged themselves directly beneath Chuuya’s ribs and stayed there for days.
Stupid.
Chuuya looked down at the rapidly melting remains of his hot chocolate.
“…So,” he muttered eventually, mostly to break the weird tension before it killed him, “what exactly did you drag me out here for anyway?”
Dazai brightened instantly. The softer atmosphere shattered on impact.
“Oh!” he said cheerfully. “I’m glad you asked.”
“That’s never a reassuring sentence.”
Dazai ignored him completely, already climbing out of the booth with alarming amounts of energy for someone who’d consumed enough sugar to hospitalize a grown man.
“We’re going somewhere fun.”
“You say that like your definition of fun isn’t deeply concerning.”
Dazai grabbed Chuuya’s wrist before he could protest further, nearly yanking him out of the booth entirely.
“C’mon, Chuuya!”
“Oi-slow down!”
The cashier watched them leave with the exhausted expression of someone witnessing two feral cats escape into the wild.
Outside, the sunlight hit them full force again. He noticed that Dazai still hadn’t let go of his wrist. Unfortunately, he also noticed the way Dazai’s fingers curled loosely against his pulse—absentminded, familiar, comfortable.
Like touching him was the most natural thing in the world.
Which was-
Bad.
Very, very bad.
“Where are we even going??” Chuuya demanded as Dazai dragged him down the sidewalk. Dazai looked back at him over his shoulder, grin radiant enough to be a warning.
“You’ll see.”
Twenty minutes later, Chuuya was staring up at a brightly colored arcade building in complete disbelief.
“…Absolutely not.”
Dazai gasped theatrically. “Absolutely yes.”
“I’m not spending my day getting tinnitus with you.”
“Too late!” Dazai announced, already pulling him toward the entrance. “I brought coins specifically to destroy you at racing games.”
Chuuya stopped resisting immediately.
“…Destroy me?”
Dazai’s grin widened.
Oh.
Well, now it was personal.
Chuuya cracked his knuckles.
“Move,” he said flatly. “I’m ending this friendship today.”
“We aren’t friends.”
“Good point. I’m ending your life today.” Dazai looked delighted by this development.
The second they stepped inside, Chuuya regretted everything. Noise crashed into him immediately—overlapping game music, flashing lights, people yelling across machines. Somewhere nearby, a child screamed victoriously while another started crying.
“It smells like dust in here,” Chuuya muttered.
Dazai looked delighted. “Exactly! Isn’t it wonderful?”
“No.”
“You’re such a killjoy.”
“And you’re loud.”
“That’s part of my charm.”
“You don’t have charm.”
Dazai pressed a hand dramatically to his chest. “Wrong!”
Chuuya rolled his eyes, but the corner of his mouth twitched anyway.
“Oh, you’re having fun already,” Dazai teased, unfortunately.
“I’m about five seconds away from strangling you with your own bandages.”
“Mhm.”
Dazai clearly did not believe him even slightly. Irritating.
Before he could say anything else, Dazai grabbed his sleeve again and dragged him toward the racing games.
“Prepare yourself,” Dazai announced solemnly. “For your humiliating defeat.”
Chuuya scoffed. “You wish.”
Five minutes later, Dazai was losing badly.
“This machine is rigged,” he declared as Chuuya’s car drifted smoothly past the finish line.
“You crashed into a wall like, six times.”
“The wall came out of nowhere.”
“It was an entire building.”
Dazai narrowed his eyes suspiciously at the screen while Chuuya smirked beside him, victorious. The arcade lights painted shifting colors across Dazai’s face, blues and pinks catching in his dark eyes. He looked younger like this somehow, laughing openly. Lighter.
Chuuya looked away before the thought could settle too deeply.
“Best out of five,” Dazai demanded.
“You already said that two rounds ago.”
“Best out of seven then.”
“You’re insane.”
“Still, I’m still your favorite person!”
“You are literally the worst person I know.”
Dazai beamed. “Awww.”
“That wasn’t a compliment.”
“It sounded affectionate.”
“It wasn’t.”
“Mm. Sure.”
Chuuya elbowed him before sliding another coin into the machine. Dazai looked weirdly pleased about the contact.
Dumbass.
Several rounds later, Dazai still hadn’t won a single race. At this point, he’d abandoned dignity entirely.
“You’re cheating,” he accused.
“You just suck.”
“I’m being sabotaged by fate.”
“You drove off the track voluntarily,” Chuuya pointed out.
“It was a tactical maneuver.”
“It was a lake.”
Dazai slumped dramatically over the steering wheel while Chuuya laughed outright this time. The sound escaped before he could stop it.
Dazai froze.
Chuuya froze.
“…Chuuya,” Dazai said slowly, staring at him with exaggerated wonder, “was that genuine happiness?”
“Shut up.”
“You laughed at me.”
“You deserved it.”
Oops. He hadn't meant to say that out loud.
Dazai continued staring.
And unfortunately-Unfortunately he looked unbearably soft right now.
The flashing arcade lights reflected in his dark eyes while his grin slowly spread wider and warmer and suspiciously fond. Chuuya’s stomach flipped unpleasantly. The food from earlier must not have settled with him. Dazai leaned closer suddenly, resting his chin against Chuuya’s shoulder without warning.
“There it is,” he said.
Chuuya stiffened instantly. “There what is?”
“That look you get when you forget you’re supposed to hate me!”
Pink dusted lightly across his face.
“I do hate you.”
“Mhm.”
Dazai sounded entirely unconvinced. Mostly because he was still leaning against him. And because Chuuya still hadn’t shoved him away.
Which was becoming a serious issue.
Before Dazai could make things worse somehow, Chuuya immediately grabbed the nearest within reach.
A claw machine.
“Oh,” Dazai said, delighted again. “Now this is dangerous.”
Inside the machine sat rows of stuffed animals and cheap plastic prizes. Including one absolutely hideous sheep plush wearing a tiny bowtie.
Chuuya stared at it.
Dazai followed his gaze.
Then immediately burst into laughter.
“You want the ugly sheep!”
“I do not," he denied.
“You looked directly at it.”
“It looked at me first.”
“That thing has button eyes, Chuuya.”
“Shut up.”
Dazai ended up winning the sheep plush entirely by accident.
Or, more accurately, by cheating.
“You leaned on the machine,” Chuuya accused as the claw dropped perfectly around the plush.
“I encouraged it emotionally.”
“That is not a thing.”
“It worked, didn’t it?”
Chuuya watched said hideous sheep tumble into the prize slot before narrowing his eyes suspiciously.
“…You absolutely rigged that.”
Dazai grinned, fishing the plush out. “And yet I still emerge victorious.”
“The sheep looks like it pays taxes.”
“That’s what makes him charming.”
“He looks haunted.”
Dazai immediately held the plush directly beside Chuuya’s face.
“Oh look, twins.”
Chuuya lunged for him instinctively. Dazai fled cackling through the arcade and unfortunately, Chuuya chased him. Which was how they somehow ended up sprinting through rows of flashing machines while Dazai yelled dramatically about being hunted for sport.
“Get back here!”
“Never!”
“You compared me to a sheep!”
“You compared yourself to the sheep when you decided to become short!”
Several nearby people stared openly as Dazai darted around a rhythm game machine. Chuuya nearly caught him by the sleeve before Dazai twisted away laughing hard enough to lose his balance for a second.
God.
It should’ve been embarrassing.
Maybe it was embarrassing.
But Dazai’s laughter kept echoing through the arcade, loud and bright and so painfully genuine that Chuuya somehow found himself laughing too despite everything. That was probably a medical emergency.
Eventually, Dazai surrendered only because he got distracted by a shooting game halfway across the room.
“Oh wow,” he said immediately, abandoning all previous survival instincts. “Violence.”
“You say that like it’s new.”
“It’s romantic.”
“That's concerning.”
Dazai shoved a plastic gun into Chuuya’s hands before taking the second player spot beside him. For the next twenty minutes, the arcade became a war zone.
“You shot me!”
“You walked in front of me!”
“That sounds fake.”
“You literally screamed before running directly into enemy fire.”
“It was a necessary sacrifice.”
“You died immediately.”
Dazai looked offended. “Way to disrespect my heroic final moments.”
“You got taken out by a digital crab.”
“It was a strong crab.”
Chuuya snorted.
Dazai immediately turned to stare at him again.
“…You keep laughing at me today.”
“You keep being ridiculous today.”
“That’s not new.”
Fair.
Unfortunately.
The game flashed VICTORY across the screen mostly thanks to Chuuya carrying them both through the final round. Dazai still celebrated like he’d done all the work.
“We’re amazing. I'm amazing”
“You contributed absolutely nothing.”
“I contributed morale.”
“You screamed every time something moved.”
“Psychological warfare.”
“Against yourself??”
“Yeah.”
Dazai looked entirely serious about it too.
Idiot.
Complete idiot.
And somehow Chuuya had spent almost the entire day smiling because of him. The realization hit hard enough to make him falter slightly for half a second. He literally hated this guy.
Dazai naturally, spotted it immediately. Always did.
“What?” Dazai asked, tilting his head slightly.
“Nothing.”
“That sounded suspiciously like a lie.”
“It wasn’t.”
Dazai hummed but didn’t push further.
By the time they finally left the arcade, the sun had already started dipping lower across the city. The streets glowed soft gold beneath the evening light.
Dazai walked strangely close beside him now, shoulders brushing every few steps like it was accidental. It absolutely wasn’t accidental.
“You’re drifting,” Chuuya complained after the fourth collision.
“You’re warm.”
“That sounds like a you problem.”
“Mhm.”
Dazai didn’t move away. Neither did Chuuya.
Which, Well.
That was becoming a pattern today.
They wandered aimlessly after that.
Dazai dragged him through tiny side streets lined with little shops and glowing signs while evening crowds drifted lazily around them. At some point, Dazai bought taiyaki from a street vendor and immediately stole half of Chuuya’s despite having his own.
“You’re genuinely unbelievable.”
“And yet you continue enabling me.”
“You took it before I could stop you!”
“Skill issue.”
Chuuya elbowed him again. Dazai nearly dropped his food laughing.
The city slowly softened around them as daylight faded. Streetlights flickered on one by one, reflecting against puddles leftover from the night before. Music drifted faintly from nearby restaurants while passing conversations floated into the evening air. For once, neither of them seemed in a hurry.
It felt…
Strange.
Nice, maybe.
“You’re thinking too hard again,” Dazai said suddenly.
Chuuya frowned. “How do you even know that?”
“You get this little wrinkle between your eyebrows.”
Before Chuuya could react, he reached over and pressed two fingers lightly between his brows.
Chuuya paused. The touch lasted maybe two seconds. Still, warmth climbed into his face.
“There,” Dazai said softly. “Fixed.”
Chuuya stared at him.
Dazai smiled lazily back, russet curls shifting gently in the evening breeze. There were people everywhere around them. Cars passing. Voices echoing down the sidewalks.
Somehow the moment still felt quiet.
Too quiet.
Too close.
Chuuya looked away first.
“…You’re weird.”
“You’re embarrassed!”
“I’m going to throw you into the river.”
Dazai laughed softly. It wasn't loud. Just warm.
By the time they reached the train station later that evening, Chuuya’s social battery had officially died. “I blame you for this,” he muttered as they stepped into the nearly empty train car.
“For what?”
“I’m tired.”
Dazai gasped dramatically. “Are you saying I exhausted you emotionally, physically, and spiritually?”
“I’m saying you never shut up.”
“Aw. You noticed.”
Chuuya slid into one of the seats near the back of the car with a groan. A second later, Dazai immediately collapsed beside him— all long limbs and dramatic sighs.
“You take up too much space,” Chuuya complained automatically.
“But you always make room for me.”
Before Chuuya could respond, the train jolted gently into motion. The city lights blurred softly outside the windows. For the first time all day, Dazai went quiet. Still.
Chuuya glanced sideways.
Dazai looked exhausted suddenly.
His head rested against the seat behind him, curls messy from the entire day, dark eyes half-lidded beneath the dim train lighting. Without the constant movement and laughter, he looked softer again. Kind of fragile.
Hm.
Then, without warning, Dazai tipped sideways directly onto him.
Chuuya nearly short-circuited.
“H-Hey-”
Dazai made a small tired sound against his shoulder before settling more comfortably against him. Chuuya blinked down at him.
“…Oh.”
No response.
“You better not be dead.”
Still nothing.
The bastard had apparently fallen asleep on him. Chuuya stared in disbelief for several long seconds before sighing quietly.
“…Unbelievable.”
He didn’t shove him away.
Dazai was warm despite always complaining about being cold. His curls brushed softly against Chuuya’s neck whenever the train shifted, and one of his hands had fallen loosely against Chuuya’s sleeve without him seeming to notice.The entire situation felt strangely domestic.
Which was horrifying.
Chuuya looked down at him carefully.
Relaxed like this, Dazai’s face looked young. The lights passing outside flickered softly across his pale skin and dark lashes.
Pretty.
The thought arrived instantly, and Chuuya looked away, irritated by the warmth gathering beneath his collar.
Pretty ugly, he corrected mentally.
Unfortunately, that didn't help nearly as much as he wanted it to. Chuuya felt his stomach flip.
“…This is bad,” he muttered under his breath.
Dazai shifted slightly in his sleep, pressing closer.
Chuuya’s heart nearly stopped.
Idiot.
Complete, manipulative, clingy idiot.
And yet, Chuuya had spent the entire day following him around willingly. Letting him hold his wrist. Laughing at his terrible jokes. Watching him smile like it was the most important thing in the world. That realization settled warm and terrifying beneath his ribs.
Outside, Yokohama blurred by in sequences of yellow and blue light.
Carefully, very carefully , Chuuya adjusted slightly so Dazai wouldn’t slip while sleeping. Dazai immediately melted closer with a quiet hum. Something unbearably fond twisted through Chuuya’s chest.
“…Yeah,” he mumbled quietly, looking down at the sleeping idiot against his shoulder. “Fuck you.”
Against him, Dazai smiled very faintly.
Chuuya, thankfully, didn’t notice.