Chapter Text
Osamu Dazai decides he’s going to get married on a Tuesday.
This is very very important, just to note.
Tuesdays are when Chuuya Nakahara has apple slices in his lunch.
Also when he only punches people if they deserve it.
These are good conditions for a proposal.
Dazai sits cross-legged on the classroom floor, chin in his hands. As of now, he watches Chuuya build a tower out of wooden blocks, very carefully. He sticks his tongue out when he concentrates.
Dazai notices this. It's Important Information for a future husband.
“I’m gonna marry my chibiko,” Dazai announces to the room. The room is mostly glue and noise.
“And make him my dog forever.”
Nobody reacts.
Someone is eating glue.
Literally, the room does not care.
Chuuya does, cause he freezes; and he turns his head very slowly.
His eyes narrow.
This is the look of someone who has survived five whole years of nonsense and knows more is coming.
“Gross. No way. I’m not marrying you.”
Dazai smiles.
“Awwww. But you don’t mean that.”
“I do.”
Chuuya points at him.
“You’re weird. You eat the crusts first. And you bite people.”
“That’s affection.”
“That’s rabies.”
Dazai hums.
“You’ll change your mind. Everyone does.”
Chuuya climbs onto his knees so they’re eye-level. Which is impressive.
Chuuya is small. Extremely small.
(Did Dazai mention small?)
“I would literally rather marry the teacher.”
Across the room, Ms. Tanaka sneezes.
Dazai tilts his head.
He’s still smiling, but something slips a little in his expression. That answer was unexpected. He expected yelling, maybe a block thrown at his head. Not…
Rejection.
Oh.
Ew.
Feelings.
“Oh,” Dazai says.
He looks down at his hands. They’re sticky. Everything in kindergarten is sticky.
“That’s okay,” he says quietly. “No one else would love a slimy tiny slug anyway.”
The air changes.
Chuuya blinks.
“I HATE you. And you’re FIVE. You’re not even tall enough to get married.”
Dazai looks up. Instantly.
“I am very tall,” he argues. “I’m growing.”
“You’re shorter than the chair.”
“That chair is cheating.”
Chuuya shoves the tower over, the blocks scattering everywhere.
“I’m never marrying you,” he declares. “Ever. Even if you ask a million times.”
Dazai watches the blocks roll across the floor.
One.
Two.
Three.
He counts them.
“Okay,” Dazai says pleasantly.
“Then I’ll just ask a million and one.”
Chuuya grabs his apple slices, and storms off dramatically.
Dazai lies back on the floor and stares at the ceiling.
Marriage is hard.
Still.
Dazai smiles to himself.
He has time.