Chapter Text
SIX Years Ago — FIFTEEN
They were outside, lying beneath the old tree they had claimed as their own special place before either of them understood what it meant to have a place that belonged to the two of them.
The grass was cool beneath Dazai's back, and the branches overhead swayed gently with every passing breeze, their leaves whispering against one another as the evening settled around them.
For a while, neither of them spoke; the silence engulfing them was deafening.
Dazai stared up through the gaps in the branches, watching the moon peek through the leaves in fractured pieces of silver.
Then, as if he realized something — and without warning, he shot upright. His palms pressed firmly into the grass as he turned to Chuuya.
Chuuya blinked at him. "What?"
When Dazai didn't answer, Chuuya slowly pushed himself up onto his forearms, still half-reclined against the grass as he looked Dazai with an expression of mild confusion.
Before he could think better of his actions, his hands moved on their own accord.
His arms came around Chuuya's head, palms settling gently against either side of his face. With the slightest pressure, Dazai tilted Chuuya's head upward until their eyes met.
Instead of pulling away, Chuuya leaned into the warmth of Dazai's palms.
"What's up with you?" Chuuya asked, laughing nervously as his hand came up to wrap around Dazai's wrist softly, urging him to keep his hand there.
For a moment, it felt as though the entire world had fallen silent, and it was just them.
The wind swept through the trees, sending a soft rustle through the leaves overheard and stirring Chuuya's hair. A few strands brushed across his face before drifting away again, and Dazai found himself staring — he was completely entranced.
Above them, the night sky stretched endlessly across the horizon, scattered with countless stars that twinkled faintly against the darkness. Their light shimmered alongside the moon, painting the sky in little fragments of silver.
Then, almost as if the night itself had decided to make the moment more beautiful, a shooting star streaked across the sky.
It seemed almost otherworldly, with the stars twinkling softly above them and the moon casting its silver glow over everything in sight, as though the night had been made solely for this moment.
The confession.
Dazai's eyes flickered upward for only a second before returning to Chuuya.
How had he never noticed Chuuya's features properly?
He was beautiful. Very.
The faint freckles scattered across Chuuya's cheeks were more visible beneath the pale light of the moon. His heterochromatic eyes — one blue, the other a rusty brown were fixed entirely on Dazai, carrying an emotion that even he couldn't decipher.
Dazai had always been good at reading people, but when it came to Chuuya; his brain would go blank like a static radio.
He forgot how to breathe. His heart felt like it could burst at any moment now — it was pounding so hard that he couldn't register the words being spoken to him right now.
Chuuya's eyebrows furrowed slightly at Dazai's distracted demeanor. With a huff, he spoke. "Dazai?"
Still, Dazai couldn't hear him because all he could see was Chuuya — it was in that moment right then and there that he'd realized — and could feel the terrifying certainty settling quietly inside his chest.
He was in love. Hopelessly, irrevocably, embarrassingly so.
For the first time in his life, he already knew exactly what he wanted — Chuuya.
Chuuya frowned. "Dazai," he repeated, a bit more of an edge to his tone.
Dazai blinked, snapping himself out of his thoughts — finding himself staring into Chuuya's eyes. "Hm?"
"You've been staring at me."
"Oh." Dazai flushed.
He glanced around nervously. But he couldn't focus with the feeling of Chuuya's hand wrapped around his wrist.
Just then, Chuuya called out to him.
"Hey."
His voice finally reached Dazai, pulling him back to the moment.
Chuuya's thumb brushed gently against his wrist, rubbing reassuring circles over his pulse point as though he could somehow soothe whatever was troubling him through the simple warmth of his touch.
A small, fond smile rested upon his lips as he watched Dazai, his expression softening in concern.
"You're acting awfully strange," he said quietly. "Is everything okay?"
Dazai rolled his eyes dramatically, and ignored the question. "Chuuya! What do you mean I'm acting strange? How rude."
Chuuya laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling as his grip on Dazai's wrist loosened. "Calm down, princess."
Dazai's heart stuttered.
He couldn't tell whether he hated or loved when Chuuya called him that. Maybe it was the way he said it.
"Now, can you please tell me why you're being even weirder than usual?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. He still didn't move an inch away from Dazai's hands.
Dazai opened his mouth, prepared to give him some ridiculous excuse, but the words caught in his throat.
He couldn't possibly have told Chuuya that he's spent the last several minutes staring at him as though he'd never seen him before. Or that something in his chest had shifted the moment the moonlight fell across his face.
So instead, Dazai smiled.
The same smile that he'd always used whenever he wanted to hide something — or was trying to.
"Nothing's wrong," he said lightly. "I was just thinking."
"About?"
"You."
Chuuya blinked.
Dazai's heart nearly stopped.
He hadn't meant to say that.
"…Me?"
Dazai stared at him for a second too long before a grin slowly spread across his face, the sort of expression he wore whenever he was about to say something that would undoubtedly annoy Chuuya.
"Yes, you."
Chuuya's brows lifted.
"And what exactly were you thinking about?" he asked in genuine curiosity, prompting Dazai to hold in his laughter.
He hummed, pretending to consider the question as though he hadn't just felt his entire train of thought derail.
"Well…"
His gaze drifted over Chuuya's face again.
Those perfect, dotted freckles across the bridge of his nose. His complementary heterochromatic eyes to his pale complexion, and finally, the way his strawberry-blonde hair continued to shift gently with the breeze.
He swallowed, hard, before his expression twisted into a playful one. There was no way he was going to tell Chuuya the truth. Not even if it kills him.
"How much of a nuisance you are," he said, instead.
Dazai suddenly let go of Chuuya's head, scrambling backward until his back met the trunk of the tree, as though putting several feet of distance between them would somehow protect him from the inevitable smack to the head.
Chuuya grunted as he shifted upright, one hand immediately reaching behind his head to rub the spot where Dazai's sudden retreat had nearly sent him sprawling.
He turned to look at Dazai, and his expression immediately soured.
"What the hell was that for?"
Dazai gave him an innocent smile. "Nothing."
"Nothing?"
"Nothing."
Chuuya narrowed his eyes. "You're lucky I don't crack your skull right here and now."
Dazai put his hands up dramatically. "What a bad dog you are, Chibi! Bad."
"Hah? Who are you calling a dog?!"
"Ah, there it is." Dazai said.
Chuuya clenched his other fist as if he was planning on punching the moonlight out of Dazai. "There what is?"
"That charming personality of yours."
Chuuya scoffed, though the faint smile tugging at the corner of his mouth betrayed him.
"You're such an asshole."
Instead of finding another sarcastic remark to annoy him with, Dazai laughed nervously instead — his gaze quickly drifting away.
He could still feel the warmth of Chuuya's cheeks beneath his palms as though his hands hadn't quite gotten the message that the touch was over. His fingers flexed against the grass.
For a moment, he'd actually considered telling him.
He wanted to be honest for once. Dazai didn't want to disguise it beneath some ridiculous remark that Chuuya would inevitably insult him for.
He glanced at Chuuya from the corner of his eye — funny enough, Chuuya was still rubbing the back of his head, muttering something under his breath about how insufferable he was.
Dazai couldn't help but smile.
There was something strangely comforting about it, hearing Chuuya complain beneath his breath as though nothing in the world could possibly be more important than the indignity of having nearly been shoved into the grass.
He could feel the words sitting somewhere in the back of his throat, waiting. It's been weeks since he'd first thought about them — a reoccurring thought that wouldn't go away.
Maybe it's been months. There was no denying that, Dazai Osamu, was definitely inlove with Chuuya Nakahara, and that they were bound to each other by fate — no matter how much the other tugged and pulled the thread.
Alas, fate was far too cruel to them.
Because, he'd imagined saying them in so many different ways that, by now, they should have come naturally.
But they didn't.
His fingers curled loosely against the grass as he managed to find the courage to speak up.
"Chuuya?"
"Hm?"
Dazai's mouth opened and closed, but nothing came out. He was too nervous. Why?
Chuuya glanced over at him, his expression becoming slightly more curious; the suspicion wearing off bit by bit.
"What?"
"Nothing — nevermind."
He frowned. "Then why'd you say my name?"
Dazai shrugged. "Can I not say your name?"
Chuuya gave him the most vile expression ever. "You've said it about fifty times today."
"Have I?"
"Yes."
"I didn't know a dog like you had a good sense of memory!" he said. "…and plus your head is too small to comprehend anything."
Chuuya rolled his eyes, turning his attention back toward the sky. "You're an idiot."
"That makes two of us."
Dazai looked away, after. It was embarrassing how quickly his heart was beating.
This was becoming ridiculous.
It was only Chuuya.
He'd known him for years. They'd fought for each other, argued together, laughed together, and spent countless nights beneath this very tree talking about absolutely nothing.
So it was such a foolish thing to feel like three little words could change everything.
He was thinking about waiting.
Tomorrow would be better, wouldn't it?
But Dazai knew it himself. If he waited until tomorrow, tomorrow would become next week.
Then, next week would become next month.
And eventually, he'd be an old man still wondering what might have happened if he'd only been brave enough to say it — how he felt.
It would've been too late.
Time would slip away, leaving no room for the warmth he had spent a fraction of his youth chasing.
Dazai drew his knees closer to his chest, resting his arms over them as he stared at the ground.
The thought alone made his stomach twist.
He'd never been particularly afraid of embarrassment. If anything, Dazai had made an art form out of it. But this was different.
For the first time, Dazai wasn't sure if he could laugh if things went wrong.
Fuck it.
Dazai drew in a quiet breath before slowly lifting his head.
"Chuuya."
Chuuya turned to look at him. "What?"
When he saw his face, Dazai hesitiated — courage wavering.
His silence made Chuuya concerned. "This better not be one of your stupid remarks again," he said. "…or I'm totally kicking your ass."
Dazai put his hands up in mock surrender. "No! No, it's not bad I swear — this time I actually do have something to say."
Chuuya sighed. He narrowed his eyes, his voice dripping with suspicion. "Okay, then… what is it?"
Then, before he could lose it completely, he forced the words out.
"I have something I want to tell you."
Chuuya's expression softened almost immediately.
"Yeah?"
Dazai parted his lips, but his throat felt like a vice; the sudden tightness in it choked the words right back down.
For someone who always seemed to have something to say, Dazai suddenly found himself at a complete loss for words. Every sentence he'd rehearsed in his head seemed embarrassingly inadequate now that Chuuya was actually sitting in front of him, waiting.
Chuuya tilted his head. "Well?"
"I…"
Dazai looked down at his hands. The grass bent beneath his fingers as he absentmindedly picked at a blade, his mind scrambling for something — anything — that didn't sound ridiculous.
"I don't really know how to say it."
Chuuya blinked.
"Then just say it however you can."
Across from him, Chuuya simply watched, tilting his head with an expression of fond curiosity. There was an unspoken softness in his bright eyes — a genuine, captivated eagerness that showed he was completely hung up on whatever Dazai was about to say.
Dazai swallowed the lump down his throat.
He watched Chuuya wait with a patient, lingering focus, utterly ignoring the fact that the clock had ticked past ten and they were already an hour past curfew.
To Chuuya, the rest of the world could wait forever. Even when he caught the slight hesitation, his gaze softened even more. A small, knowing smile tugged at the corner of his lips, replacing his curiosity with pure warmth.
"As long as you say what you mean," Chuuya continued, his voice dropping to a quiet, intimate murmur, "I'll listen."
He held Dazai's gaze, the playful teasing melting away into something completely steady and reassuring. The sheer honesty in his voice hung in the space between them, making the late hour and the rest of the world vanish entirely.
Something in Dazai's chest tightened. "You promise?"
Chuuya scoffed softly, his expression turning fond. "When have I ever not listened to you?"
Dazai raised an eyebrow, a flicker of his usual playful defense mechanism kicking in. "Would you like me to make a list?"
"Shut up," Chuuya replied, though there was no real heat in it. A small, genuine laugh escaped Dazai before he could stop it, and the tension in his shoulders finally loosened, if only slightly.
Sensing the shift, Chuuya gently nudged the tip of his foot against Dazai's knee. "Go on."
Dazai stared at him. The moonlight fell across Chuuya's face, catching the bright warmth in his eyes and illuminating the faint freckles scattered across his cheeks. Dazai's heart began to beat faster.
"I've been trying to figure out how to say this for a while," Dazai admitted, his gaze dropping to the grass as his voice fell to a bare whisper. "I can't pinpoint the exact moment it happened. One day, you were just Chuuya, annoying and loud and entirely separate from me."
A quiet huff of amusement laced with nervousness escaped Dazai, the soft sound breaking his own heavy momentum. He smiled faintly down at the ground, shaking his head before looking back up into Chuuya's eyes.
"…and then, without my permission, fate pulled me in," he continued, his voice softer now, steadier. "Suddenly, you were the only thing keeping me grounded. You became everything."
Chuuya's expression shifted, a deep softness overtaking his features. Feeling his courage begin to slip away under that intense gaze, Dazai knew he needed to push through now, before he could convince himself to stay silent.
"But, I don't know if you'll understand," Dazai murmured.
"I will."
"You don't even know what I'm going to say."
"I'll still listen."
Dazai forced himself to look up. Chuuya was smiling at him — a small, gentle look that felt impossibly reassuring.
"Chuuya…" Dazai's heart pounded against his ribs, a wild, echoing thud. "I…"
The word barely escaped his lips, thin and fragile. He stopped as his nerve faltered at the very edge of the cliff. But Chuuya just waited, keeping his eyes locked onto Dazai's with a patient, grounding warmth.
Dazai drew in one last, shaky breath, letting his guard fall completely.
"I—I like you."