Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

In this world, soulmates don't exist merely in fantasy, or only for the lucky few. Everybody has a soulmate, a person who understands them best, who can bring them the most comfort.

Most importantly, this world also has a way to find them, existing in blemishes that appeared on your skin whenever your soulmate got hurt, often appearing in their favourite colour, the vibrancy of the mark changing depending on how fresh or severe the injury was.

For the week leading up to Chuuya's 16th birthday, his friends had been persistently teasing him about the looming prospect of him waking up in the morning to a potential mark courtesy of his soulmate.

He had brushed them all off for the most part, apart from comments from his bandaged freak of his best friend.

Then he retaliated with something along the lines of 'At least I don't have to wait another month.'

He couldn't quite place why Dazai's enthusiastic teasing was bothering him so much, but he figured that it might just be the idea of Dazai meddling with his love life.

Regardless, he had brushed them all off, putting up a facade of not caring about who his soulmate was, or whether he would wake up with the evidence of their existence or not.

This was a blatant lie, as he sat on the bathroom floor while brushing his teeth the night before his birthday, filled with anxiety.

'What if I don't have a soulmate? What if I hate my soulmate, or worse, they hate me? What if my soulmate is one of my friends? I would never recover!'

His hands were shaking slightly, but he stood up, spitting out his toothpaste and continuing his nightly routine as usual, ignoring the pit of dread in his stomach. He changed quickly, and collapsed into his bed, thankful for the comfort of the bed he's had for years.

Birthdays were always hard, a stern reminded of the passage of time, but he enjoyed being able to keep hold of dregs of his past.

He grabbed his phone from his bedside table and unlocked it, the screen lighting up to display his messages with Dazai. There had been a few since he last checked.

MCKRL: excited for 16??? :ppp

MCKRL: ik u don’t like ur bday much, but u fought for me to celebrate mine last year, so we're going to the arcade after schl tmr. just us, get away from ppl yknow.

MCKRL: and i alr know ur worried abt ur soulmate, u were doing ur weird fist clench thing today when joking about it. don’t. it'll be fine, and if it's not, i'll walk u to schl tmr like usual and we'll figure it out.

Chuuya was surprised by the seriousness and kindness in Dazai's message. He smiled a little, then frowned.

'Don't smile at the stupid mackerel's messages idiot. It'll get to his head,' he thought to himself, as he looked over the messages again.

He was glad for the opportunity to go to the arcade just him and Dazai again, it had been a while since they had went alone. It was probably better than whatever gift Dazai would get him.

He clicked on the message box, responding quickly.

SLUG!: Since when were yu so nice assheole?

SLUG!: *asshole

The messages were seen instantly, surprising considering that Dazai had sent his messages about five minutes before Chuuya even looked at them.

MCKRL: consider it an early birthday gift. ;)

SLUG!: Kys

MCKRL: hmm, not tonight, i need to give u ur bday gift.

SLUG!: And what would that birthday gift be

MCKRL: a big fat and sloppy kiss, followed by the best head of ur life.

SLUG!: First ew fuck you that’s disgusting

SLUG!: Second that’s illegal youd still be under age od consent

MCKRL: WAIT DOES THAT MEAN NO MORE SEX JOKES UNTIL IM ALSO 16?????

SLUG!: Jokes don’t mean shit

SLUG!: Gwnuinwlt tho, whats my gift

MCKRL: not telling, get wrecked.

SLUG!: Omg im going ro sleep ill see you in the mornign, with my failed soulamte mark

MCKRL: *soulmate + also you'll be fine. You somehow manage to rarely get hurt, so your soulmate is probably the clumsiest person on earth. You'll probably wake up covered in colourful bruises.

Chuuya felt oddly relieved by Dazai's assurance, but his attention momentarily zeroed in on the change in Dazai's speech pattern. He never typed out the full 'you' or 'your'.

He shoved that to the side. It was likely just that Dazai realised how serious this situation was to Chuuya.

SLUG!: …I hope so. On one hand if I wake up with nothing there's nothing I can go off of to find my soulmate but on the other hand if there is something then my soulmate got hurt and I don’t like the idea of that

MCKRL: well the only way to find out is in the morning. go to sleep Chuuya. i'll leave earlier than usual tomorrow.

SLUG!: Okay then

SLUG!: Goodnight

MCKRL: night, i'll be awake for a few more hrs if u need anything

Chuuya sighed and turned off his phone, placing it back where it had been, plugging it in to charge. Dazai was right, the only thing he could do was wait, and the best way to do that was by sleeping.

So, Chuuya got up, flipping off his light switch and then settling back into bed, still able to hear his parents moving around downstairs.

As he breathed slowly in the dim light of his room, he surveyed the contents.

The window was slightly ajar, allowing the breeze to cool down his stuffy room. It was too warm for this time of year.

He glanced at the ceiling, counting the glow in the dark stars that were stuck up, the same way he had done every night since Dazai had barged into his room and started sticking them up with no warning.

Dazai had gotten a pack of 100 glowing stars, and split the pack between the two of them, each getting 50.

Chuuya had 44 on his ceiling, most of them never moved since he had put them up with Dazai.There was 5 on his mirror, three in the top right corner, and two on the bottom left.

The last one was kept in his wallet. He had put it there because he didn't have anywhere else for it to go, not wanting to mess up the layout he had made with Dazai, and liking the asymmetrical design on his mirror.

After a while of keeping it in there, he had went to the shop with Dazai once, and noticed Dazai also had one of the stars in his wallet. He had never taken it out, and last time he checked Dazai hadn't either.

It was like their version of friendship bracelets.

Apparently Dazai had bought them after they went on a school trip to a science centre, and the two had spent majority of their time gushing over the astronomy section, Chuuya obsessing over the chemical makeup of stars and Dazai explaining the physics behind everything.

Chuuya remembered that day well. They had originally been paired separately, but after Dazai sweet talked the people they were with and the teacher in charge, the people they had been with were put together and Dazai and Chuuya ended up happily sitting next to each other and sharing headphones on the way there, and then Chuuya ended up being a pillow for Dazai on the way back.

If anybody asks, no he did not also fall asleep, he was just trying to still to not wake up the insomniac who was finally sleeping.

Chuuya's eyes grew heavier the longer he thought, being filled with a strange nostalgia he was not too unfamiliar with.

Dazai's words of comfort seemed to have helped however, the pit of anxiety around the whole soulmate business having died down. Eventually, he found himself drifting off, falling into a dreamless sleep.

---

Chuuya woke up on Monday the 29th of April with a headache, and a weird tingly sensation over most of his body. He rolled over to turn off his alarm, sighing in the realisation that it was finally his birthday.

Slowly, he got up, blearily stumbling from his bedroom to the bathroom, rubbing the sleep from his eyes as he grabbed his toothbrush. The taste of the spearmint toothpaste that he quite frankly hated was enough to wake him up as he turned from the cup with the toothbrushes to his mirror.

What. The Fuck.

Chuuya choked on his toothpaste, the sight of an aquamarine line on the back of his arm poking out from below his long sleeve.

He spat out the toothpaste and rinsed the brush off, putting it back in the cup. He yanked his sleeve up, a wave of nausea rolling over him at the sight of more lines.

He pulled the sleeve back down, and stared at himself in the mirror. He hadn't even properly looked, just seen a few more. He looked a mess, his face pale and hair messy, his chin covered in the toothpaste he had choked on, and his eyes wide open.

He left the bathroom in silence, ignoring the confused expression on his little sister's face and entering his room and closing and locking the door.

He looked in his mirror. He had purposely worn a long sleeved shirt and trousers to sleep that way he wouldn't risk seeing something the instant he woke up.

'It worked I guess,' Chuuya thought, '…what the hell am I supposed to do with this?'

He swallowed, and in one swift movement pulled off his shirt.

He stared at the blue lines covering his arms from his shoulders to his wrists, the outside and insides of his arms. There was barely a bare patch of skin. 

'At least my soulmates favourite colour isn't red..?' he thought, trying to pull a smile.

He sighed, looking at his actual arms instead of their reflection. The blue had slightly different shades on certain marks, and in certain areas. Some were extremely faint, and others were bright against his skin.

He's seen soulmate marks before of course, his parents have them, his older sister has them, some of his friends have them, but it was different seeing them on his own skin.

This was... jarring, if not downright horrifying. What in the hell had happened to his soulmate?

Scratch that, he had a feeling he knew already. Inspecting the lines closer was all he needed.

They were clearly self-inflicted wounds. He knows about self-harm obviously, he has friends who struggle with it, and there had been a time the year before after he came out that he had considered it himself.

Still, the quantity and severity of these injuries was terrifying.

'There's no way I can go to school with these on display,' he realised, quickly moving to find his school shirt and a hoodie to wear.

It was really too hot for a jumper, but well, desperate times. He grabbed his uniform and a jumper, scrambling to cover himself.

He had no clue who his soulmate was, but he was already extremely concerned.

He shed his trousers in order to put on the rest of his uniform, and nearly gagged at the sight of more blue lines along his thighs.

'Oh god,' he thought, covering his mouth with his hand at the sight of those marks, appearing in an even deeper blue to the ones on his arms. He pulled his trousers on without a second thought.

'I need to speak to Dazai,' was his next thought, grabbing his shoes and bag, and pocketing his phone as he practically ran out of the door, much to the bewilderment of his mother in the kitchen, who called out 'happy birthday' in a futile attempt to gain Chuuya's attention.

Surprisingly, Dazai was already outside, leaning against a lamp post with his headphones on. At the sight of Chuuya's pale and alarmed expression, his smile and greeting died.

"What happened?" Dazai demanded instantly, falling into step next to Chuuya as they headed in the direction of school.

Chuuya shook his head frantically, his hands clenched into fists inside his pockets.

"I don't even know- well, I do, but-" Chuuya cut himself off, groaning in frustration. "I woke up with a soulmate mark."

Dazai's expression twisted for a miniscule second, but Chuuya wasn't paying attention, practically vibrating with nervous energy.

"Isn't that a good thing?" he asked dryly. "Happy birthday by the way," he added more sincerely.

Chuuya sighed, kicking a rock.

"Thanks, but it isn't just a mark Dazai," he said, looking up at Dazai, his expression serious. Dazai surveyed his expression, seemingly understanding how serious this was to Chuuya, and waiting for him to finish explaining.

"I am covered in marks. The entirety of my arms, and my thighs. I didn't even bother checking anywhere else before covering them up."

Dazai nodded instantly in understanding, holding out his hand. Chuuya glanced around, double checking nobody was there, then pulled up the sleeve of his jumper and handed his arm to Dazai.

As they walked, Dazai gingerly held onto Chuuya's arm, inspecting the lines, his face paling as he looked.

Dazai opened his mouth to say something, then hesitated. Chuuya looked at him worriedly, watching as Dazai thought.

After a moment, he let go of Chuuya's arm, and nodded grimly.

"Definitely self-inflicted, oldest is likely a week or so old, freshest probably last night or early this morning."

Chuuya pulled his sleeve back down hastily, the amount of people around them increasing the closer the pair got to the school.

The confirmation that the wounds covering his soulmates body were the result of self-harm was not much of a comfort to him, much less the fact that now he was going to have these marks all over him at least until he meets his soulmate, and likely for longer afterwards as well.

He sighed, shoving his hand back in his pocket.

"The fuck do I do now?" he asked bitterly, not expecting an answer. Dazai sighed, and shrugged.

"You wait, I guess. Find your soulmate, hope nobody asks too much about the marks and try and continue as normal."

Chuuya scowled, kicking the ground.

"Yeah, I'll just go around all the potential candidates and ask if any of them have a proficiency for slicing their arms up, it'll be easy and not at all upsetting and rude," he said snarkily, and Dazai smiled slightly.

"I'm sure you would be fine doing that! You can withstand a punch! Besides, dogs like you don't understand manners, so I'm sure they'd forgive you!"

Chuuya elbowed Dazai, and he yelped, jumping out the way.

"I'm not a dog! Are you ever going to let that stupid bet go?!" he yelled in irritation, but he couldn't say that Dazai's usual teasing wasn't making him feel at least a little bit better.

Dazai just grinned, skipping ahead of Chuuya.

"Never!"

Chuuya groaned, but walked faster to keep up with Dazai. When Dazai noticed Chuuya walking faster he broke into a run, turning around to shout at Chuuya.

"Last one to the school has to do the others homework for a week!"

"You're on!" Chuuya called back, not hesitating as he ran after Dazai. Like hell would he do Dazai's homework for him.

Chapter Text

At the end of their third class of the day, Chuuya marched over to Dazai's desk, triumphantly dumping his history jotter on top of Dazai's, and sitting on his desk.

"Hope you like writing essays Dazai," he said with a smirk.

Dazai rolled his eyes, but didn't complain when he put Chuuya's jotter into his own bag, standing up and looking at Chuuya with disdain.

"I don't. But I'm better at it than you, so maybe you'll finally get something over a 75 for once."

Chuuya scowled.

"Low blow. It's not my fault the words… blur."

Dazai blinked a few times, and then his eyes widened.

"Oh! I didn't mean it. It was supposed to be a joke. Did that hurt your feelings? I know about your thing with the letters, I wasn't meaning to make fun of you."

It was Chuuya's turn to pause and think.

Dazai was apologising?

It was common for Dazai to not understand how something may affect another person emotionally, or to struggle to understand why some people can't put their emotions aside, but for him to apologise about it was weird.

Not a bad weird though.

Chuuya cleared his throat, slipping off Dazai's desk again.

"No, it didn't hurt my feelings. It just annoys me."

Dazai nodded, and the two left the class, squeezing through the crowded halls as they headed for the art department.

Chuuya walked just behind Dazai, a firm grasp on the strap of Dazai's bag as people knocked into them left and right.

The halls were so crowded, and loud. His chest felt weirdly tight, and his head was hurting even worse than it had when he woke up.

Dazai stopped walking suddenly, and Chuuya, who hadn't been paying attention, crashed into him, causing them both to stumble slightly.

Dazai pulled Chuuya to the side, and kept him there for a few minutes to wait for the crowds to thin out as everyone got to their classes.

As the hallways emptied, Dazai continued walking through the halls, and before long they were both in their art class, the room loud and chaotic as people gathered their supplies and started work.

The teacher was at his desk, ignoring the students as they made a ruckus, only stepping in to stop thing from being thrown across tables, or to get people to mop up spilled water pots.

Chuuya sat in his usual corner table, a pencil drawing of art supplies laid out in front of him, his reference image propped up on his pencil case.

When choosing their seats, Dazai had insisted on sitting across from Chuuya instead of next to him. It had really hurt Chuuya's feelings until Dazai had explained how he preferred to have a full view of the room, and he wouldn't have got that while sitting next to Chuuya.

He didn't believe him at first, because in some of their other classes Dazai sits with his back to the room.

He had eventually dropped it, deciding that the way Dazai was hiding his coursework from him was far more interesting and important.

Art was one of Chuuya's favourite classes. Not for the environment, not for the actual work- being honest, he wasn't even that good at art.

He wasn't bad, and would easily get decent marks, but he wasn't great.

No, instead he liked it because got to see Dazai draw.

There was something captivating about it. Even if he was trying to concentrate on his own work he would find his gaze shifting to Dazai, and the subtle changes in his expression as he drew.

There were other reasons, sure, but that was the most prominent.

He was supposed to be doing his final piece, a still life of various art supplies from the room piled up on a desk.

What made it special was that the majority of the background was going to be done in pencil, while each of the supplies- for example, paintbrushes, crayons, chalk- were going to be done in their respective medium and colour, bleeding into the pencil.

He was very proud of himself for thinking of it, and Dazai had been more than willing to help him figure out how exactly to pull it off.

Speaking of, Chuuya looked up, glancing across the table at Dazai.

Dazai was looking back at him, chewing his lip. The moment Dazai noticed Chuuya was looking back at him, he let go of his lip and smiled, sticking his middle finger up.

Chuuya returned the sentiment with a scowl and then turned his attention back to his drawing, loosely planning his shading.

Weirdly, his hand was shaking.

He paused, swallowing thickly. He put his pencil down.

Now that he was thinking about it, his chest was still tight from when he was in the hallway, and his headache wasn't being helped by the noise.

He closed his eyes, trying to push past the uncomfortable feeling.

Just as he closed his eyes, he felt a heavy hand land on his shoulder, and another pat his back.

"Chuuya!" a familiar voice called, and Chuuya flinched, opening his eyes and turning to look at Shirase, who hadn't removed his hand from Chuuya's shoulder.

"Happy birthday man!" Shirase continued, his voice achingly loud. Yuan just smiled from next to Shirase.

"Thanks," Chuuya muttered, slightly uncomfortable at the sudden appearance of his old friends, who had just the year prior declared that they never wanted anything to do with him again.

Shirase was undeterred by the lack of warmth in Chuuya's tone, speaking enthusiastically.

"Just wanted to check on how you were doing, you know we haven't hung out in ages!"

And whose fault is that? Chuuya thought with annoyance, but he smiled, his migraine only getting worse.

"Yeah, it's been a while," was what he responded with, and Shirase grinned.

"So- 16 huh? Did you get a soulmate mark yet?" Shirase asked, suddenly seeming a little too interested.

Chuuya felt a wave of nausea wash over him. Both at the tone Shirase was using and at the reminder of his soulmate mark. He should have known Shirase wouldn't have spoken to him again without a reason.

Before he could respond(having had to pause to fight off his urge to puke), Dazai cut in, speaking in a forcefully polite tone.

"Yeah, he actually did! Did you notice your Dad hurt his hand this morning? Oh wait! You couldn't have, because he left," Dazai said with a tightlipped smile.

The smile dropped and Dazai wrinkled his nose.

"Go away. It doesn't concern you whether Chuuya has a mark or not. It certainly wouldn't be one connected to any of your little 'gang' members. Get lost, sheep."

Shirase scowled, and turned to leave, but not before speaking to Chuuya one last time.

"You should really find yourself better friends. Not ones that are depressed emos. You'll come running back when you realise that that thing you hang out with isn't going to benefit you," Shirase snarked before leaving.

Dazai glared after Shirase.

Chuuya just sat there, numb.

It felt like so much had just happened.

He stood up abruptly, ignoring Dazai's surprised questions, and he muttered something to the teacher about going to the bathroom as he stormed out the classroom, practically running the moment he was in the corridor.

He found himself in the bathroom on the top floor. Nobody ever used these ones because they were so far away, and right at the end of the furthest row of cubicles was a hidden one that didn't lock properly unless you lifted the door with your foot.

He slammed the door shut and locked it, sinking to sit on the ground, dropping his head into his shaking hands.

He was breathing rapidly, and his vision was blurring, tears gathering quickly. They dripped down his cheeks, his shoulders shaking as he tried to calm himself down.

There wasn't even anything really wrong. He had slept fine, he wasn't mega worried about his exams, it was just this stupid soulmate stuff, and his stupid old friends and his stupid feeling of hating change and-

The stall door banged.

Chuuya's head shot up, the small sobbing sounds he hadn't even known he was making stopping instantly.

"Fuck off," he snapped angrily, and the person who had knocked on the door responded in an annoyingly sing-song tone.

"Hmm, no!" Dazai responded, and Chuuya groaned, recognising Dazai's worn and beat converse under the gap of the door.

"Let me in, before I slide under the door. You know I will. I just don't want to get covered in dirty floor germs for nothing," Dazai continued.

Chuuya swore under his breath, but kneeled up just enough to undo the lock before slumping back to the floor and hiding his face again, this time in his knees.

Dazai hummed his appreciation, closing the door again and sitting across from Chuuya in the cramped stall.

Chuuya's breathing was still shallow, but evening out slightly, and Dazai reached to take one of Chuuya's wrists. Chuuya recognised the movement, the silence comforting for once as Dazai counted Chuuya's pulse.

Chuuya took the moment to listen to how Dazai was breathing, matching it and bringing his breathing back to normal, causing his racing heart to slow again.

Once satisfied, Dazai removed his hand from Chuuya's wrist, and sighed.

"You good now?" Dazai asked quietly.

Chuuya lifted his head and nodded, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath as the last of his tears fell.

He jumped a little when he felt Dazai's thumbs against his cheeks, and his eyes flew open, relaxing again when he realised Dazai was just wiping the tears from his face.

They sat quietly for a few moments, Dazai's hands still on Chuuya's face as he closed his eyes again.

Eventually, Dazai dropped his hands and smiled reassuringly.

"Do you wanna tal-"

Dazai got cut off by the bathroom door opening and a teacher calling into the room.

Dazai jumped forward before Chuuya could react, putting his hand over Chuuya's mouth and as a result pushing him into the wall.

It didn't hurt, but for some reason Chuuya's heart rate spiked again, his breathing going shallow as he looked up at Dazai with wide eyes.

"Hello, who's in here?" the teacher asked in an accusing tone.

Dazai responded quickly, putting on a sweet voice.

"It's Dazai, miss. I'm out on a hallpass, I wasn't feeling well and asked to use the bathroom," he lied smoothly, and Chuuya broke out of his temporary stupor, licking Dazai's palm to get him to remove it.

Dazai did so with a disgusted look, and Chuuya glared at him.

"...Alright. If you're not feeling well, I can escort you to first aid. And show me your hallpass. I'll wait in the hall, don't be long," the teacher said, and Dazai responded with a quick 'yes miss' before the door closed.

Then, Dazai urged Chuuya to sit on top of the toilet with his feet up, and began patting his pockets for a blank hallpass.

Chuuya watched Dazai scramble with amusement, his momentary panic forgotten.

Dazai found two and quickly filled out the details, giving one to Chuuya and keeping one for himself.

"We're skipping the rest of the day. Grab both our bags when you go back to art and then meet me at the back gate. I'll convince first aid to send me home," Dazai whispered, not giving Chuuya a chance to actually agree before he was leaving and splashing his hands under a tap to sell his lie.

Chuuya sighed, suddenly feeling very tired. Now he needed to wait for a few minutes to ensure Dazai and the teacher had left.

The rest of the day was sure going to be interesting.

Chapter Text

Luckily, Chuuya ended up not needing the fake hallpass, not running into any teachers on his way back to art, and the art teacher having not even noticed his or Dazai's absence.

He ended up loitering at the back gate as he waited for Dazai to arrive. He had put Dazai's bag on the ground, his own on his back as he eyed the gate.

It had been a while since he'd skipped via jumping the gate, but the school had fixed the hole in the fence they used to leave from.

Still, he hadn't even waited for Dazai to reach him before scaling the gate and dropping to the other side, and Dazai had followed without a word.

Now they were in the arcade, which was mostly empty due to most kids still being in school.

After completely destroying Dazai in a dancing game, they ended up sitting on a bench outside, indulging in the sweets they had got with the tickets they had won while playing the games.

It was a pitiful amount, way less than usual, but Chuuya didn't mind, and had a suspicion that Dazai didn't either. Especially due to the fact that they had somehow mostly ended up playing games Chuuya liked, or could beat Dazai in.

So really, the amount of sweets had nothing on the bragging rights.

"I can't believe you lost so many times today. I mean come on Dazai! It's like you weren't even trying," Chuuya said teasingly, a wide grin on his face as he unwrapped a lollipop.

Dazai just rolled his eyes, smiling slightly.

"Maybe if Chuuya hadn't picked that stupid dance game I would have won," he huffed dramatically.

"Hey! You said we could take it in turns choosing. If you didn't play to your strengths when you chose the games, that's your problem!" Chuuya retorted quickly, still smiling smugly.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever you say, dog," Dazai said, voice bored as he waved Chuuya away.

Chuuya bristled, and was about to shout back when Dazai interrupted him, checking the time.

"School's going to finish in an hour or so, it's probably alright to go home if you want," Dazai asked, glancing at Chuuya as he grabbed his stuff.

Chuuya sighed and grumbled, grabbing his own stuff.

"Are you ever going to stop referring to my house as your home?" he asked with feigned annoyance.

"Nope!" Dazai said happily as they began to walk.

Chuuya rolled his eyes, but smiled.

Then, he frowned, thinking. He hadn't been to Dazai's house in a while. A while was an understatement. It had been like... a year.

"Hey Dazai?" he asked, tilting his head slightly.

Dazai hummed, matching Chuuya's head tilt.

"Yeah?"

Chuuya furrowed his eyebrows, and hesitated. He knew Dazai's home situation was... rocky, so he wasn't sure how Dazai would answer. Hopefully, above all else it would be honest.

"We haven't been to your house in ages. Is there a reason?"

Dazai stiffened slightly, and Chuuya quickly backtracked.

"I mean, I obviously don't mind, we never really went there often, even when we used too, and my parents adore you, and my siblings do, even Kouyou! She likes you! So it's not a problem I'm just curious."

Dazai opened his mouth to speak, and hesitated. Chuuya waited anxiously, tearing his gaze away from Dazai to look at the ground while they walked.

It was very quiet for a few seconds, until he felt Dazai shrug next to him, and heard him speak.

"Meh. It's just boring there since Oda moved away. Don't blame him really, it was dull even before then."

Chuuya nodded slowly as he listened to Dazai talk. Being in Dazai's house had always put him slightly on edge when he was younger.

From Mori's seemingly fake smiles and polished edges, to Elise's bubbly outbursts being silenced by a pointed look from the wrong person, he had always felt uncomfortable.

Oda had been the most normal, and Oda had moved away a few months ago, to live with his friend.

Chuuya could easily believe why Dazai would prefer being at his house, and why he'd want to avoid explaining exactly why.

"Your house is more lively. There's always some sort of noise or someone doing something. I appreciate it," Dazai continued.

Chuuya rolled his eyes again, and put on a smile, elbowing Dazai.

"With the amount of your stuff you've left in my room, it's practically your house as well anyways."

Dazai stood up slightly straighter and grinned.

"What can I say, I just made myself at home."

Chapter Text

Chuuya's parents were not pleased by their son and his best friend walking in five minutes before school ended, but they were let off with a sigh and a 'please stop skipping school'.

Both of Chuuya's sisters got in within the next hour, greeting Chuuya as he sat in the living room watching Tv with Dazai.

Kouyou had arrived and told him to close his eyes, saying happy birthday, dropping new earrings and some money into his hands and disappearing before he could open them again, not wanting to be caught up in Chuuya's inability to receive gifts normally.

Kyouka had been slightly nicer about it, sticking around long enough to be hugged after giving Chuuya a brown rabbit plushie and a hand made card.

Dazai had watched with amusement at the way Chuuya interacted with his siblings, feigning ignorance when Chuuya glared at him.

By dinnertime, the table had been laid with plates and pizza, a few balloons taped to the nearest wall and a seat at the end of the table for Chuuya.

It was rather dramatic, but a yearly tradition, and carried out at all birthdays that happened in the Nakahara house.

Chuuya had smiled until his face hurt, forgetting all about the stuff that had happened at school, or about the soulmate predicament, or anything else that could have upset him.

He said it every year, but he could swear it was his best birthday ever, eating pizza surrounded by his family and his best friend.

His parents had worked together for his gift, explaining that for his birthday, during the next holiday they had prepared for him to get a licence for a motorbike.

At that Chuuya had nearly exploded from excitement, and he was riding that high all the way through the cake and he only stopped smiling when he crashed face first into his bed, sighing tiredly.

"God, that was amazing," he said, and Dazai laughed.

Downstairs, he could still hear the rest of his family talking and joking. Dazai sat down next to his on the bed, and Chuuya sat up again.

Dazai had a few gifts in his hands, and wordlessly held out the first gift.

Chuuya took it, slightly cautious at the smirk Dazai was wearing.

He shook it. It didn't make a sound.

"What's in this?" he asked curiously, and Dazai's smirk just widened.

"Open it and see."

Chuuya opened it quickly, ripping the wrapping paper and instantly glaring at Dazai at the sight of the black fabric.

"A collar?" he asked incredulously.

"No, Chuuya! Why would you ever think that!" Dazai asked, eyes widening in mock disbelief. "It's a choker, there's a difference!"

Chuuya pulled it out, running it between his fingers. He had to admit, it was actually really nice, the smooth fabric feeling nice and cool against his skin. He admired it for a second, and then put it on, glaring at Dazai.

"Dont think, for one second, that this is me playing into your stupid dog thing," he said, though without any real malice.

Dazai just laughed.

"Okay, just take the next one," he said, producing another present and pushing it into Chuuya's hands.

Chuuya raised an eyebrow but opened it quickly, a metal tin falling out.

He paused, confused. 'What the...'

He opened the tin to find a fountain pen, with ink in different colours and a small pad of paper to test the colours on.

His jaw dropped as he carefully took out the pen, admiring the colour. It was nothing particularly special, in a brownish red colour and with silver details.

He looked at Dazai, carefully cradling the pen in his hands.

"I know how much you like writing. I assumed you might like something fancy to write with."

Chuuya just stared even more. He felt his face heat up, and he shook it off, clearing his throat.

"You were right. Thanks," he said, feeling a little awkward about accepting the gift, and he put it back in the tin before carefully putting it on his bedside table.

He turned back to Dazai to find another gift being pressed into his hands.

"Really? How many gifts did you get me?" Chuuya asked, geniunely surprised.

"Just those three." Dazai said as Chuuya took the final gift.

It was soft, the paper crinkling as the material inside gave way under his touch.

He glanced at Dazai curiously before he ripped the paper off again, being more careful than previously.

It opened to a black hoodie with red stitching. Instantly, Chuuya pulled off the jumper he was currently wearing and put the new one on, adjusting it to sit properly.

It was a little big, falling over his hands and hanging loosely, but perfect. Dazai grabbed Chuuya's left hand and Chuuya's eyes widened, until he was pointed to embroidery on the cuff.

It wasn't the neatest, but it was their names, Chuuya and Dazai, surrounded by a bunch of stars in golden thread.

Chuuya probably had a staring problem. He just stared, his mouth having fallen open again as he ran his eyes over the embroidered names again.

He must be sick, given how warm he felt, and the way he felt his face go red.

Without thinking, he used Dazai's hand in his to pull him forward, and he threw his arms around Dazai, pressing his face into his chest.

Dazai made a slight sound of surprise, but returned the sentiment easily, hugging Chuuya back just as tightly.

"Thank you," Chuuya said again, voice muffled slightly by Dazai's chest as he closed his eyes tightly.

Dazai laughed, and Chuuya could feel Dazai weaving his fingers through the ends of his hair, playing with it a little.

"It's the least I could have done. Happy birthday Chuuya," Dazai said, and Chuuya could hear Dazai's voice in his chest, and the rapid pace of his heart.

He felt so happy. Like nothing could go wrong. He clung to Dazai tightly, as they sat in silence for a while, the most comfortable they could have possibly been in that moment.

The silence was broken by Chuuya's mum coming up the stairs.

She barely blinked at the sight of the boys huddled together on the bed, used to it by now.

"Dazai, your father is here for you."

Chuuya instantly clocked the way Dazai stiffened up and his breathing stopped for a second.

He pulled away, a little confused, but Dazai was smiling, and got up when Chuuya did.

"Oh, alright then," Dazai said as he grabbed his bag. He went to join Chuuya's mum in the hall, stopping to wave.

"Bye Chuuya, see you tomorrow!" Dazai said cheerfully, and suddenly his bedroom door was closed.

Chuuya sat, slightly confused and a little alarmed.

He listened as Dazai chatted to his mum all the way down the stairs, and listened as the front door opened and closed as Dazai left.

He was left, sitting on his bed in the hoodie Dazai had given him, still able to smell the strawberry shampoo Dazai used, and wrapping paper discarded on his floor.

'I think that's the first time since Oda left that Dazai has been picked up from here,' he realised.

He wasn't sure what to do with that realisation.

Still, he got up and cleaned the wrapping paper, putting his gifts away and retreating back to his bed. It was only just after 9PM, but he already had a goodnight message from Dazai.

He quickly shot one back, then leaned back against the wall, chewing his nail. He caught himself, moving his hands under his legs, and instead ended up chewing on his cheek.

The day had been... interesting.

From his soulmate mark to shirase to dinner with his family, it had been a rollercoaster of emotions.

Emotions he wasn't sure if he had the energy to shift through today.

Something had shifted. He furrowed his eyebrows as he thought about it.

He couldn't place it, but it was like he had noticed something. Realised something. Or whatever it was had become more obvious.

He sighed, and got up, heading down the stairs.

His sisters were still awake, and by the sounds of things watching a movie. He was in a movie mood.

Chapter Text

Dazai lay in his bed. The room was dark and messy. The wall next to him was covered in glow in the dark stars, but it had been so long since he left the curtains open that they wouldn't glow anymore.

He ran his fingers over the cuts littering his arms, pressing into them, blinking numbly at the pain.

Oda was getting worse. He was sick. Very sick. Nobody would tell Dazai what he was sick with. He didn't need them to in order to know that he wasn't going to get better.

Now, Chuuya had blue lines all over his body. Blue lines that matched his eyes. Blue lines, in the various shades of blue Dazai adored. Blue lines, mimicking the red ones all over Dazai.

The last thing Dazai had been expecting that morning was to find that Chuuya was his soulmate. Well, there's still a chance he wasn't, and that someone else just so happened to cut exactly where he had.

He likes Chuuya. Chuuya does not like him. Chuuya could never, and should not ever like him. Plenty of people have soulmates and never marry them. Some people even hate them. Mori had a soulmate, and looked blatantly disgusted when asked about it.

Him and Chuuya should stay friends. He's not a good person to love. He shouldn't be loved.

He was broken out of his thoughts by a crash downstairs, followed by crying. He threw himself out of bed and down the stairs, not even hesitating before stepping in front of the hand swinging to hit his sister.

Elise cried out anyway, horrified at the familiar sight of Dazai being hit.

A cup lay broken on the floor, and Dazai stared evenly at Mori before taking Elise and guiding her out of the room.

He left Elise at the stairs before he returned to the kitchen and began to clean up the glass shards. Mori didn't even blink as he stared at the cuts over Dazai's arms.

"Your stitches are getting better," he commented, and Dazai just dropped the glass pieces in the bin.

"No thanks to you," Dazai said with a wide smile.

Mori scoffed.

"You can't hide Elise behind you forever. You need to learn to look out for yourself. That's the only way you'll make it in this world."

Dazai rolled his eyes.

"According to you the only way to make it in this world is also by sabotaging everyone else. I'll do what I want."

Mori didn't say anything, and let Dazai leave.

He headed to Elise's room, finding her sitting on her bed with a blank expression. Dazai felt sick. She had learnt that from him, most likely.

"Are you okay?" she asked, and Dazai nodded.

"Fine. It won't bruise, and I can cover it even if it would."

He's slightly disappointed that it wasn't hard enough to bruise. Part of him wishes he had antagonised Mori more, taunted him into hitting harder. He deserves it.

Though if he had hit hard enough to bruise then Chuuya might have ended up with a mark. He wasn't sure how he felt about that idea.

He tried rather hard to keep the physicalities of his family dynamics from Chuuya. It would make it harder to hide.

'Maybe that's what you want,' a traitorous part of his brain whispered. He ignored it.

"Are you okay?" he asked, repeating Elise's question. She nodded.

Dazai sighed, and cast her one more glance before leaving. He didn't know how to help her. Not with this bit. Oda would have known.

He closed his door and pulled open his drawer. He needed something a little more.

Chapter Text

Chuuya now dreaded getting dressed. He was in the same pjs as the night before, and the last thing he wanted was to see what injuries had been added to his soulmates body.

While brushing his teeth he has noticed a faint blue tint to his cheek, and had spent a few seconds panicking over that before deciding his soulmate must have fell or something.

After a few moments he realised he was running out of time and really did need to get dressed, so he quickly shucked his shirt and trousers, and he went to change his underwear, pulling them down and gagging at the sight of the bright blue marks over the sides of his hips.

Those had not been there the day before. He took a deep breath and pulled on his uniform, adding the hoodie Dazai had given him yesterday.

He actually stopped to eat breakfast this time, some toast set out on the table for him.

His parents were nowhere to be seen, and the only person in the kitchen with him was Kyouka, sitting with a bowl of something chocolatey. She was a rather quiet child, but observant and artistic.

As Chuuya devoured his toast as quickly as possible, he noticed her gaze on him. He paused, looking back at her as he swallowed his final bit of food. He got up to put his plate next to the sink and she spoke.

"Kouyou left earlier than usual today and Mum is still sleeping. I need help with my hair," she said, turning in her chair to look at Chuuya.

Chuuya blinked, confused as to why she would ask him.

"Where's Dad?" is what he ended up asking, eyeing the long black hair falling down her back. Where Kouyou and Chuuya had bright, curly, red hair, Kyouka was the opposite, pin straight and near black hair.

Kyouka huffed.

"He did breakfast, and Mum normally does that because he has work. So he's currently rushing to get ready," she said, now getting up to rinse her bowl and put it with Chuuya's plate.

"Surely you know the basics of hair styling," she continued, looking pointedly at the loose hair falling around Chuuya's shoulders.

Chuuya blinked. He had actually forgotten he had been growing his hair out. He sighed.

"I can only really do a ponytail. Dazai normally does the things like braids."

Kyouka nodded. She handed him a hair tie.

"Try anyway," she demanded, turning around.

Chuuya sighed, but obliged, trying his best to gather her hair into what could maybe be considered a ponytail.

After a few tries that only resulted in weird bumps and a broken hair tie, he gave up, groaning in frustration.

"I can't do it!" he said with annoyance, staying careful to not shout, not wanting to alarm his little sister.

Kyouka just stared at the broken tie, and sighed.

"Dazai will be outside waiting for you by now. Get him to teach you," she said, pulling out another hair tie from seemingly nowhere.

With that, Kyouka grabbed her bag and Chuuya had to scramble after her, slinging his own bag over his shoulder.

Indeed, Dazai was outside staring into space. He looked over when Kyouka wordlessly shoved the hair tie into his hand and turned her back to him.

He raised an eyebrow at Chuuya, who threw his hands up in defeat.

"Kouyou left early and I can't do anyone else's hair!" he explained quickly, still annoyed at his lack of competence in hair related artistry.

Dazai snickered, already working a french braid into Kyouka's hair.

"Damn Chuuya, you really should take the time to learn these kinds of skills you know. They come in handy," Dazai teased, and Chuuya felt something warm curl in his chest.

Jealousy? He guessed, unfamiliar with the feeling. Maybe he's annoyed that Dazai seems to get on so well with other people. That must be it. It didn't quite feel like jealousy, but he ignored the part of him that pointed out the way his face felt warm. It's the sun.

Dazai had finished the braid quickly, and Kyouka didn't leave like Chuuya expected, instead her eyes went to the hoodie Chuuya had on.

"You'll get heatstroke if you wear that all day," she remarked. She looked interested. She was smart, and for a moment Chuuya was reminded of Dazai when he was her age, just without the... perpetual unease that surrounded Dazai. That surrounds Dazai.

Chuuya shook that thought away, and shrugged.

"I'll be fine," he said dismissively.

Kyouka blinked. She tilted her head.

"You're hiding something," she glanced at Dazai, her eyebrows furrowing. "You both are."

Dazai and Chuuya exchanged glances.

"I can guess it's bad. You should probably tell Mum and Dad. Or at least Kouyou. I don't want to know. But you should tell an adult."

With that, Kyouka walked away, the single braid down her back swaying slightly as she left.

Chuuya felt dumbstruck. Dazai looked amused.

The thing was- Kyouka was right. A part of Chuuya had been screaming at him that he needed to tell someone. There was a person out there who was covered in self harm wounds, adding to them, and Chuuya was no longer sure what to make of the blue tinge to his skin when he had woken up, which had faded quickly.

But... He couldn't. He should. But he felt uneasy. How was he supposed to broach this subject? Who does he tell, and what does he tell them? What happens when he finds out who his soulmate is, and something that was supposed to be a secret gets thrown into the open?

The conflict was eating at him.

He hadn't even noticed that they had started walking to school until he almost tripped over a curb.

He lost his balance and Dazai caught him, gripping his arm and pulling him upright again.

He hissed in pain at the sudden jolt, and Dazai let go. They continued walking, and Dazai was seemingly too lost in thought to make a comment on Chuuya's trip.

Weird, he thought, not making much of it. Another part of his brain screamed something incomprehensible at him. His thoughts had been making a habit of fighting with each other.

He was so confused.

"There was more marks when I woke up. On my hips," he said, grabbing Dazai's attention.

Dazai looked mildly ill for a moment, before smoothing his expression over.

The garbled thoughts in the traitorous corner of his brain seemed to feed off of the slight expression change. Chuuya ignored it again.

Instead, his arm was grabbed by Dazai, who began poking at it through the cloth. When all he got was a raised eyebrow, he slipping his hand under the sleeve to poke at the skin.

Chuuya sighed.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asked irritably.

Dazai let go, humming softly.

"I did some research, and some people say that their soulmate marks hurt to touch. I was trying to test that theory."

Chuuya recoiled.

"By doing something that could hurt me?!" he exclaimed, eyes wide but not really mad, he would have done the same.

Dazai paid no mind to Chuuya's seething.

"It wouldn't have hurt badly. Just stung a little."

Chuuya scowled.

"It's the principle of the thing!" he retaliated, and Dazai snickered.

"Okay okay, calm down, quit yapping. I'm sooo sorry!" Dazai said, and Chuuya kicked him.

Dazai made a fake yelp of pain, dramatically jumping and wailing about being attacked by a dog.

Chuuya was so caught up in his fury and, (much to his further annoyance), amusement, that he didn't notice the slightly painful tingling on his left shin, right where he had just kicked Dazai.

Chapter Text

By lunchtime, Kyouka's statement about the weather being too warm to wear a jumper was proven true.

Chuuya had spent the day feeling like his brain was melting and barely paying attention so now, at lunch, sitting under the shade of the tree him and his friends spent their lunch at, he had the worst headache of his life.

He sighed, rubbing his forehead and silently cursing the warm weather that he normally loved so much.

A heatwave at the end of April was normally welcomed, but he couldn't stand it now.

He looked up again as Dazai came over with a bag of food from the nearest store and he tossed a water bottle at Chuuya before sitting down next to him, their backs against the tree.

"Thanks," Chuuya grumbled, sighing and instantly opening the bottle, taking a big glup.

Dazai's eyebrows furrowed in concern and he handed Chuuya a sandwich from the bag of food, but he didn't say anything, instead he just pressed himself into Chuuya's side, the contact subtle but there.

For some reason Chuuya felt warmer.

Sitting around them, some of their other friends watched with concern as Chuuya squinted in the light and winced at the sound of cheering coming from a nearby lunch table.

Ranpo, Yosano, Kunikida, Atsushi, and Akutagawa were all clustered together in the shade, eating their various foods, and while the area was normally alive with conversation, it was quiet aside from the ambience from the other students, the sound of the wind in the tree they sat under the loudest thing coming from their little group.

Yosano glanced at Kunikida, who shrugged, then she addressed Chuuya as she started rooting through her bag.

"You should really take that hoodie off. It's too warm, and you're going to get sick," she said while moving to tie her hair up, and Chuuya felt a bit guilty as he noticed the worry in her tone.

He looked down at his hands instead of responding and unwrapped the sandwich Dazai gave him, feeling slightly nauseous at the idea of eating anything.

His silence only seemed to spur Yosano on further though, so she continued.

"I know you just got it, but I'm sure Dazai will understand if you take it off. Even Dazai isn't wearing a hoodie, and he always does," she said, and Kunikida nodded.

"Yeah, if Dazai's too warm we're all screwed," Kunikida joked, but it was impossible to miss the concerned strain to his voice.

There were a few quiet laughs, and Chuuya chuckled a little, but he felt Dazai shift next to him and cross his arms, almost defensively.

Chuuya's eyes felt drawn to the movement, staring at the white fabric covering the skin.

Dazai had bandages wrapped over every inch of skin on his arms, and likely the rest of his body. Chuuya knew this, but to actually see the bandages for once was different to just knowing that they were there. Dazai had started wearing them one day with no apparent or consistent reason. It started with a simple wrist bandage, explained as a sprained wrist, then eventually grew until it was the full length of both his arms and occasionally his eye or neck.

Mori explained it as skin hyper-sensitivity when Chuuya's parents had asked about it, concerned at the way a 12 year old Dazai had fumbled while trying to say it wasn't important. Apparently any contact on Dazai's skin- particularly his arms and legs- could result in pain and bruising. What Chuuya didn't understand was why he covered them all the time if having something touch his skin hurts, or why it only seemed to affect other areas sometimes. Still, he didn't question it.

He just knew Dazai normally hid the bandages under his clothes when he could, not liking the attention that they drew.

So it really was a big deal that Dazai's wasn't wearing a hoodie.

Suddenly Ranpo spoke, fully opening his normally squinted eyes.

"You're hiding your soulmate mark, aren't you?" he asked, tone mildly curious. Chuuya blinked in surprise.

He had only started hanging out with Dazai's friends after his old friends had pushed him away, and while he had fit in easily, the intelligence which most of his friends (especially Ranpo) displayed was often surprising.

His shocked expression was enough confirmation for Ranpo, and Ranpo raised an eyebrow, taking a few more seconds before his eyes widened further and he fell quiet, looking at Dazai with an unreadable expression.

Chuuya shifted, and sighed.

"Yeah, I'm hiding my soulmate mark," he huffed out eventually.

Dazai tensed next to him, and Atsushi spoke up, sounding confused. "Why are you hiding it? Do you not like your soulmate?"

Chuuya shifted again and took a bite of his sandwich to avoid answering, looking down at the grass he was sitting on, suddenly very interested in the golden pattern of the sun through the leaves.

"It's complicated," Dazai said instead, a surprisingly sharp tone to his voice.

Kunikida nodded, as though having a realisation.

"Oh! You guys don't want other people to know your soulmates until you're both ready!" he said sympathetically, and Atsushi and Akutagawa both went 'ohhh' in understanding.

Chuuya went red, mouth falling open at how easily that conclusion was reached and accepted.

"That is not it! That shitty mackerel is not my soulmate! I'd never go out with him," Chuuya said quickly in response, and he stood up, crossing his arms.

"I did not come here to discuss my soulmate. Let's go Dazai," He said, and Dazai, who had been staring vacantly at the ground, looked up quickly.

Dazai stood to follow and gathered their stuff, complaining as normal.

"Chuuya! You can't just insult me like that and expect me to follow! You're my dog, not the other way around!"

The whiny complaint was met with deaf ears when Chuuya took the first few steps to leave and got hit by a wave of dizziness, and Chuuya made slight hissing sound, effectively shutting Dazai up.

He stopped abruptly, instinctively holding out a hand to try and grab onto something.

When Dazai went quiet all eyes moved to fall on Chuuya, and he could feel them watching with various degrees of worry.

"...Chuuya? Are you okay?" Atsushi asked hesitantly.

Chuuya blinked a few times, suddenly feeling very sick. His head hurt so badly, and the world was spinning. His throat felt dry, and he found himself wishing he had drank more water.

"...Chuuya?" Dazai asked, taking a step forward, going to place a hand on his shoulder, and Chuuya shook his head.

"I'm fine!" he said angrily, voice wavering.

Chuuya started walking again, the world blurry and his hands shaking. Then he suddenly wasn't walking anymore, and his legs gave out under him.

Dazai was quick to catch him as he fell backwards, and Chuuya briefly registered Dazai's panicked expression, his eyes half closed and black spots dancing through his vision.

Dazai's eyes were wide with panic and surprise, and his hands were on Chuuya's face.

Dazai was trying to get Chuuya to respond, but he was just so tired and would much rather just... admire Dazai.

'He rarely looks so genuine...' Chuuya briefly thought, before confusedly shaking the thought away.

He's so... dizzy. There was too much going on.

A small crowd had quickly gathered, and Kunikida was trying to wave everyone away.

Yosano was kneeling next to him and he heard her announcing that someone was too warm and had fainted.

'That must suck,' he thought tiredly, and the last thing Chuuya heard was Dazai shouting for someone to get the nurse.

---

Chuuya woke up on an uncomfortable table with a headache and an annoying buzzing in his ear, sickly fluorescent lights making his eyes hurt.

He pushed himself up with a wince, groaning slightly as he shivered in the cool air, and he was instantly greeted with a pair of arms around his shoulders.

A quick whiff of strawberry told him who it was, and he gave Dazai a one armed hug back, the other one still holding himself up.

"What happened?" he asked tiredly, and Dazai pulled away, seemingly having decided Chuuya was okay enough and that it was safe to be an annoying asshole again.

"You fainted. You know how slugs can't go on salt because it dries them out and they need water? It was like that. You were too dried out. Maybe I should carry around a doggy bowl for you to drink from, that way this doesn't happen again," Dazai rambled as he pushed Chuuya's legs from the metal bed and then sat next to him, pressing into his side like he had at lunch.

"A good owner doesn't let their dog get dehydrated. I did try, you should have drank more of that water I gave you. That was very alarming you know! And I had to catch you! You know, for being so small you really are uncomfortable to carry. I had to get Kunikida to help me take you here!"

Chuuya sighed, rubbing his forehead and closing his eyes. Dazai's voice was ringing in his ears and making him clench his jaw, but it was better than the previous buzzing, which had faded when Dazai started talking.

He took a deep breath as Dazai kept talking, tuning out whatever he was talking about. Getting to skip class to sit with him or something.

As Dazai talked he felt horribly tense next to him, and when Chuuya heard the school nurse enter the room, Dazai jumped slightly.

Chuuya just took Dazai's hand in his, holding onto it, not entirely sure why he had in the first place. To comfort him, probably.

"Calm down Dazai, Chuuya will likely still have a sore head."

Chuuya looked up in confusion at the rough and deep voice, squinting and taking in the sight of Mr Fukuzawa, the principal, standing in front of him.

"Mr Fukuzawa? Where's Miss Alcott?" Chuuya asked, wincing at the sound of his own voice ringing in his ear.

"Miss Alcott is dealing with another student," Fukuzawa explained, pulling over a chair to sit in front of the metal bed he and Dazai were on.

Dazai seemed to have relaxed slightly at the sight of Fukuzawa, just leaning onto Chuuya's shoulder slightly, but Chuuya kept holding onto his hand anyway.

"How long was I asleep for?" Chuuya asked, and at the reminder of why they were here Dazai suddenly pushed another bottle of water into Chuuya's hands.

Chuuya took it and opened it, letting go of Dazai's hand in order to do so, to which Dazai pouted dramatically.

"It wasn't long. 25 minutes at most, there was a moment when you came out of it and then just fell back asleep," Fukuzawa said, watching approvingly as Chuuya quickly downed half of the bottle.

Chuuya nodded, swallowing and then speaking again.

"That's not too bad. I was just dehydrated I think. I should be fine to go back to class."

"As long as you keep hydrated, yes," Fukuzawa agreed, and he got up to close the door before returning to his seat.

Chuuya shifted uncomfortably, the air changing to be more solemn and apprehensive.

After a moment Fukuzawa sighed, the sound drawn out and hesitant.

"Chuuya. Do you know who your soulmate is?" Fukuzawa asked, and Chuuya's eyes widened with surprise.

He glanced down at his arms, which were uncovered, the bright blue lines on view for anyone to see.

He sat up straight, looking around for his hoodie, spotting it on the seat Dazai had been sitting on.

"How many people saw them?" Chuuya asked, his voice panicked as he glanced between Dazai and Fukuzawa.

Dazai winced, looking visibly upset, and Fukuzawa sighed.

"Anyone who was outside when you fainted. Yosano had Dazai take your hoodie off because you were far too warm. According to her, Dazai wasn't going to do it until she said it would make you worse if he didn't, so I would assume he is aware of your situation?"

Chuuya nodded guiltily, looking down at the floor, his feet dangling a few inches from the ground, whereas Dazai's shoes brushed the dirty linoleum with every swing of his legs. Fukuzawa sighed again.

Chuuya had never realised how often he did that, and his lips quirked with amusement, but it was quickly shut down when Fukuzawa spoke again.

"I'm going to assume that you don't know. The school can't do anything to make you tell us who your soulmate is if you don't want to, but we are worried about whoever they may be. We can't force you to find them, or tell us who they are. But if you do, we would like to be able to try and help them."

Chuuya felt sick again as he nodded along numbly to Fukuzawa's words.

He wished that the school did have something to force him to tell.

Or a magical way of finding his soulmate.

Then maybe he wouldn't feel so guilty, and he wouldn't have this internal conflict over what he should do.

He nodded once more, and Fukuzawa stood up, walking to the door.

"That is all. Please, if you find them, tell a member of staff. You're free to return to class now. If you feel faint again then come back and someone will arrange for you to go home."

Chuuya made a vague sound of agreement and Fukuzawa left, the silence deafening as the door to the first aid room swung shut again.

Dazai got off the bed, going to their bags and sitting them upright.

Chuuya watched as Dazai fiddled with the patches Chuuya had on his bag, moving to play with a safety pin holding one on.

"Fukuzawa asked if I was your soulmate you know?" Dazai said, amusement in his tone.

Chuuya raised an eyebrow, and Dazai turned back to face him with a smile.

"Genuinely. He asked me about the bandages and if they were still for the skin sensitivity."

Chuuya laughed a little, drinking some more of the forgotten water in his hand before responding.

"That's stupid. Imagine if we were soulmates. Bleugh," he said with an exaggerated shudder, missing the hurt that flashed across Dazai's expression.

"Yeah," Dazai said, swinging his bag over his shoulder. "That's stupid. Besides, if I was, it wouldn't be cuts, it'd be bruises. You know that. Imagine it! You, covered in blue bruises! Hahaha!"

Chuuya raised an eyebrow, a little confused at Dazai's tone. Still, he shrugged and slipped off the bed himself, grabbing his own bag.

"I'm assuming I was unfortunate enough to miss the end of lunch?" he asked, grimacing as they left the nurses office to the mostly empty main office.

"Yeah. We've missed the first half of english though! Plus, when I spoke to Mr Fukuzawa earlier he said that he'd tell our teacher we'd be late for us," Dazai explained in a sing song voice as he skipped through the empty corridors.

A student passed by, and her eyes instantly went from where they'd normally go- the bandages around Dazai's arms- to Chuuya's arms, and the blue lines covering them.

Suddenly, Chuuya understood where Fukuzawa had been coming from in assuming that Dazai was his soulmate.

They seemed an odd pair to most- constantly arguing and making fun of each other, yet jumping to each others defense the moment someone else chimed in. They were more physically affectionate with each other than most boys their age, almost always touching or holding hands. The two would be sitting leaning on each other or Chuuya would sit between Dazai's legs and get his hair braided while they were both actively making fun of the other, and Chuuya was openly gay.

It wasn't the first time people would assume they were dating, and now it wouldn't just be people assuming they're dating, but soulmates.

Yuck.

As Chuuya thought this, he realised that the thought wasn't quite as sickening as he thought it'd be.

Maybe he's just so used to being around Dazai all the time that being soulmates wouldn't mean much.

They'd just be platonically soulmates. That happened sometimes.

Yeah.

Platonic soulmates.

He'd never like Dazai like that, and Dazai would never like him like that. Platonic. 100%.

They're not soulmates anyway, so it's fine. Dazai was right, if they were soulmates he'd be permanently covered in bruises.

Dazai has no reason to lie about what's under his bandages, and Mori has confirmed what they are used for, and while Mori may be unsettling, he's Dazai's father, a doctor, and has no reason to lie either.

Chuuya frowned, crossing his arms self consciously as they came to the english classroom.

Nobody noticed aside from the teacher as they slipped into the back of the class, heading to their normal seats, which were near the door anyway.

Higuchi was at the table with Tachihara, and they both waved at him, mostly disregarding Dazai.

Chuuya waved back as he sat down, waiting for the teacher to finish speaking before he started speaking to his friends, who had already noticed his arms.

"Right, listen, it's nothing bad you don't need to worry about it," he said quickly, before Higuchi or Tachihara could say anything.

"It looks bad!" Higuchi protested, reaching over to take his arm and inspect it. "Is this from your soulmate?" she asked worriedly.

Chuuya briefly registered Dazai getting up and muttering something about going to the bathroom, and he nodded in response to both Dazai and Higuchi.

"Yeah, my soulmate." he admitted begrudgingly.

Tachihara took a sharp breath in, also looking concerned as he batted Higuchi's hand away from Chuuya's arm.

"That's... not good mate. Your soulmate must be right fucked to do something like that." Tachihara said, eyeing the blue lines mistrustfully. "Those look painful. Does it not hurt?"

Chuuya sighed and shook his head.

"No it doesn't hurt. At least it hasn't yet. Dazai did some research and some people said theirs hurt so it might just be different person to person." he explained as he shifted in his chair.

Higuchi nodded in relief.

"That's good then," she said.

Tachihara quickly chimed in with a scowl.

"I'd kill your soulmate myself if he ended up hurting you in his own self hatred. That's not fair for you," Tachihara said protectively, his tone faintly disgusted.

Higuchi looked slightly uncomfortable with the words, and Chuuya also felt a bit weird about it. It wasn't his soulmate's fault that it might hurt him. His soulmate might not even know that Chuuya had his mark yet.

"It's a good thing it doesn't hurt then," Higuchi said with a nervous smile. "Right Chuuya?"

Chuuya was about to respond when there was a sudden sharp pain in his left arm.

He made a slight hiss of pain, pulling his arm into his chest and wincing.

"Ow! What the fuck!" he nearly yelled, drawing the attention of the other people nearby.

Higuchi reached forward to take his wrist and pull it away from his chest, assuming he had managed to hurt himself in a way she could help with.

Instead, Chuuya saw her freeze, along with the other people watching, as a clear patch of skin in the middle of his arm was split in half by a bright blue line.

The pain died away in seconds, just tingling slightly, but Chuuya felt sick as he watched another line being drawn on his skin like he was being painted on.

The room went quiet quickly as people realised what was happening, most people aware of the original marks and Chuuya's faint by now.

After five lines had appeared it stopped and the tingling faded.

Now that the spectacle was over most people slowly looked away, whispering amongst themselves, but Chuuya stayed frozen, staring at his arm with a pale face, feeling like he might throw up.

Higuchi and Tachihara were dead silent, the three just sitting and staring at the new lines. None of them knew what to do or how to react, dumbfounded as their brains struggled to process what had just happened.

Without saying anything they all just turned their attention to what they had been previously doing, Higuchi and Tachihara returning to their work and Chuuya just staring at the table.

What the fuck was he supposed to do with that?

The area that his soulmate had just hurt was a little itchy, his skin crawling as his mind replayed the memory over and over.

The thought of his soulmate doing something like that...

Unbidden, an image flashed to the front of his mind, of a brunet sitting facing away from him, and blood dripping from his arms.

Chuuya felt even sicker, shaking the thought away violently, causing Higuchi to look at him again.

Before she could speak Dazai had returned and dropped back into his seat, humming a song.

Chuuya jumped in surprise, and Dazai froze, looking around the silent table.

"...What happened?" Dazai asked cautiously, his tone giving away that he already had a suspicion.

Chuuya showed Dazai his arm wordlessly, and he felt Dazai's fingers graze over the marks.

"...Ah," was all Dazai said, but he moved his hand into Chuuya's, holding tightly.

Chuuya squeezed back, and after a moment he looked over at Dazai, who was staring blankly at the lines covering Chuuya's arms, his face pale. Dazai seemed to be thinking about something, and he wished he knew what it was.

After a moment, Dazai sighed and looked back at Chuuya, smiling sadly.

"I'm sorry."

Chuuya did a double take, blinking in confusion.

"What?" he asked, furrowing his eyebrows, trying to figure out what Dazai meant.

What does he have to be sorry about? Being annoying?

"On behalf of your soulmate," Dazai clarified quickly. "I'm sorry," he said, looking genuinely apologetic.

Chuuya rolled his eyes. What was with Dazai and apologising recently?

"You didn't make me soulmate decide to hurt himself in the middle of my english class," he said, huffing slightly as he slid down in his chair, tapping the desk with his free hand.

Dazai looked slightly ill and turned away, but Chuuya paid it no attention.

"I'll be fine, I'll get over it. I was just surprised," he said, shrugging casually, trying not to let on how much it had actually affected him.

"It hurt for a moment though," he added, glancing at Dazai thoughtfully. "Your theory was correct, just it only hurt for a moment while the injury was being made. So, congrats on a theory well spun."

Dazai met Chuuya's eyes for a moment. Dazai had always been a master at hiding or downplaying how he was feeling, but he looked genuinely distraught over the thought of Chuuya's soulmate causing him pain.

After a moment, Dazai cleared his throat and spoke tensely.

"I'm gonna kill your soulmate."

Coming from Dazai, it sounded like even less of a joke than it had from Tachihara.

Right on cue, Tachihara chimed in.

"That's what I said!" he hissed angrily. "I'm gonna kill the asshole! It's not fair for him to bring Chuuya down in his own self destruction!"

Higuchi hit Tachihara on the arm, and glared at both Tachihara and Dazai.

"Can we please stop threatening Chuuya's soulmate!? I get it, you don't want Chuuya to be hurt, but Chuuya can handle himself, and his soulmate is clearly very mentally ill. Threatening him won't solve anything," she said firmly, and Tachihara visibly wilted.

Chuuya cleared his throat awkwardly.

"Yeah, thanks Higuchi. I can handle myself, and I don't need you guys threatening my soulmate. Given the extent of these injuries, I should probably be grateful he's even still alive."

Suddenly it had gotten even quieter. Chuuya hadn't thought it was possible for the atmosphere to get any thicker.

After a few moments the teacher called the attention of the class, explaining what the homework for the week was going to be.

Dazai's hand left his own. A glance at Dazai showed him to have crossed his arms and started staring at his bandages.

Chuuya tried to ignore how his gut twisted at the sight, and instead tried to think about how much time he'd have with Dazai doing all his homework.

Chapter Text

Well.

This was it.

Dazai was completely and totally fucked.

He dropped his face onto his knees, taking a slow breath as he listened to Elise chatter happily in the next room, and heard Ango's overly enthusiastic responses.

He shivered slightly, the temperatures had dropped drastically through the early evening, and now sitting on the windowsill let the draft from the window blow right up his back.

Oda coughed nearby, and Dazai winced at the scratchy and strained sound. He could tell Oda was trying to stifle the coughing to not scare him.

He wasn't sure if he actually appreciated the gesture. It made him feel like Oda didn't think he would be able to handle knowing the truth. He decided that Oda was also doing it to not scare Elise. That made him feel worse.

"Are you cold?" Oda asked, drawing Dazai to look up from where he had buried his face between his knees.

"A little, yeah," he said with a nod, watching Oda stir some kind of curry in a pot.

Oda laughed, and Dazai could hear the way Ango had stopped responding to Elise for a moment to listen.

It made him smile slightly.

"I get that, I'm cold all the time now. Nothing to worry about, it's normal apparently, with the medicine and all," Oda said, and he pointed to a folded zip up hoodie sitting on one of the counters. "You can borrow that. You're getting the bus home, right?" he asked, his forehead creasing with concern.

Dazai nodded, shifting and reaching to grab the hoodie, pulling it on. It was slightly warm, it had probably only finished drying just before he and Elise had got here. It smelled nice.

Oda sighed in annoyance, tutting slightly.

"Seriously. If it was just you, you're almost 16 and can get the bus alone, but with Elise? You shouldn't have to get the bus home alone with Elise at night."

Dazai hummed in absent-minded agreement, his thoughts straying to the way Chuuya had been staring at the table when showing him his arm earlier.

"I mean, Dad can drop you off but-"

Dazai was snapped out his thoughts, narrowing his eyes.

"Who?" he asked, voice dripping in petty false ignorance. His anger was misdirected, and he knew that, but it didn't stop the pang of resentment at hearing Oda so easily refer to Mori as 'Dad'. Oda was old enough to remember when Mori had been a decent person. Dazai didn't have that luxury.

Oda didn't get upset at Dazai's anger however, just restarting his sentence calmly.

"Mori can drop you off but he won't pick you up? It's crazy. I'd rather you get the bus here and had lift home."

Oda hummed thoughtfully.

"I'll get Ango to drive you home," he decided.

Dazai frowned.

"Isn't Ango supposed to stay with you in case something happens?" he asked, trying to not sound too worried.

Oda laughed a little again, shaking his head.

"I'll be fine for an hour while he drives you home."

Dazai just nodded, his thoughts straying again. His arms burned. What he had done earlier hadn't been enough. He had gotten halfway through before remembering the possibility that Chuuya was his soulmate.

And then he had gone back to class and promptly had both his theories confirmed.

One, that Chuuya was actually his soulmate, which wasn't hard to figure out, and two, that his self harm was also going to hurt Chuuya.

Brilliant.

But he couldn't risk hurting Chuuya.

'I'm going to kill your soulmate'

His own words to Chuuya.

'I'm going to kill myself'

He had a warm bowl pressed into his hands.

He blinked in surprise, looking at Oda, who had another bowl in his own hands, and was sitting at the counter.

"Ango and Elise are going to eat and watch a movie together. I figured you had something on your mind you might want to talk about without the prying ears of your 12 year old sister," Oda said with amusement as he started to eat.

Dazai contemplated telling Oda for a moment, stirring the curry. It was more watered down than usual, and he couldn't smell the spice like he usually could. Likely for Oda's benefit. He probably struggled to eat spicy foods now. At least, struggled to keep it down.

He wasn't very hungry, despite the way the teeth gnawing at his gut screamed otherwise.

"Chuuya's my soulmate," is what he settled on saying.

Oda nodded, unsurprised.

"That's great. I was going to ask, but figured you'd tell me. How did you know? Does Chuuya know?"

Dazai just continued watching the curry as he stirred it. There was barely any rice in the bowl. It was more like soup.

"Arms, and no," he said blankly.

Oda made a soft sound of acknowledgement, looking sympathetic.

"And you can't tell him because-"

"-I don't want him to know," Dazai finished for him, finally taking a spoonful of the curry. It didn't taste bad, it just wasn't as good as Oda used to make it. It made him feel even less hungry, but he kept eating anyway.

Oda hummed.

"He's going to find out eventually," Oda said, his voice surprisingly soft. "You can't hide it forever. Especially not when you get your mark. All it'll take is one of your little play fights where you hit each other just a little too hard, and you both suddenly have matching bruises where you just punched each other."

Dazai nodded numbly. Oda didn't know Mori still hit him and Elise, and Elise was under strict orders not to tell. The self harm was not his biggest worry.

"We still have a few exams. Our last one is next Monday," Dazai said quietly. "That'll keep us both busy for a while. He probably won't start worrying about who his soulmate is again until at least Tuesday."

He laughed, smiling slightly, his cheeks warming as he thought.

"Though Chuuya is very persistent, and stubborn. I won't be surprised if the first thing he does after sleeping for the most of monday afternoon and night is launch headfirst into a full scale investigation. Knowing him, he'll enroll me as his secondary investigator too."

Oda chuckled, raising an eyebrow, almost in disbelief.

"With the way you talk about him, nobody in their right mind will be surprised with the knowledge you two are soulmates."

Dazai shook his head, wrinkling his nose.

"Chuuya has no reason to like me. I know Chuuya's type, and I am not it."

Oda rolled his eyes, smiling fondly.

"You know, I remember when you and Chuuya were around 8, and you were both loud and proud about the fact you were going to marry each other when you were older. Mori wasn't very happy, but Chuuya's parents found it incredibly endearing. You had Kyouka draw pictures of your wedding in crayon. I remember listening to you bicker over who had to wear the wedding dress until Kouyou had told you that you would both be able to wear suits."

Dazai didn't remember that. He wondered if Chuuya did.

He does remember when Chuuya had first realised he didn't like girls, and gotten upset over how he was different, and not understanding it. He does remember finding Chuuya crying behind a tree, because it was dark Chuuya had always been scared of heights and refused to actually climb a tree without him there. He does remember sitting in the dirt next to him, his nice trousers Mori had bought for him contrasting Chuuya's ripped denim shorts that had been patched so many times that they were more patch than the original fabric, and he remembers wishing they could swap.

He had been so jealous of Chuuya's effortless coolness, of his ripped clothes and baggy t-shirts, of his plastered knees and scruffy haircut.

He had always been, and still was, jealous of Chuuya. Of his clothes, of his way of speaking, of his hair, of his friends, of the way his grades didn't matter and above all, of how Chuuya wanted to be an artist, to pursue writing and poetry, and how his parents had stuck his first attempt at a proper poem on the fridge with a magnet in each corner, two stars, a cat and a pretty fountain pen magnet which had been Chuuya's favourite.

It had been right up there with Kyouka's drawings and Kouyou's pictures, and when Dazai had eventually picked up art and drew Chuuya a picture of him, he had stared at the place it occupied beside the poem with a new kind of hurt worming its way into his chest. Looking at his drawing displayed so proudly next to Chuuya's writing had made him want to cry, and he hadn't known why, and he hadn't been able to stop himself from crying for an hour when Chuuya's Dad had oh so carefully hugged him when he was trying to ask why it was up there. He had been 10 at the time, and it was the first time he had cried around Chuuya's family, and he could still count on one hand how many times that had happened.

More importantly, he remembered promising Chuuya that it didn't matter if he never found anyone to love in his entire life, because they could just get married instead. He had promised that if Chuuya didn't fall in love, he wouldn't either.

He was a liar, because it took Chuuya ages to fall in love for the first time, and the entire time Dazai had been blatantly in love with him.

He refused to recall what happened next, determined that it meant nothing, but he remembered walking home well past midnight with Chuuya's hand in his, and remembered the gentle hugs and the relief on the faces of Chuuya's parents.

So, he couldn't say anything in response. He stayed quiet, and after a few moments, Oda sighed.

"I'm sure you and Chuuya will be fine. Now, tell me about the game you had been playing. Legend of... Hyrule?"

Dazai smiled, and rolled his eyes.

"Legend of Zelda, Oda."

"Oh yeah, that's the... uhm... green elf guy."

"No! Zelda is the princess! The 'green elf guy' is Link!"

"Why is it not Legend of Link then?"

"Oh my god..."

---

It took Dazai only a few seconds to struggle out of Kouyou's firm grasp on his upper arm and he heard her exasperated shout of his name as he ran after Chuuya.

Chuuya was a bit faster than he was, but Chuuya had run into the forest, not the field. He was embarrassed, he wanted to hide, not to run.

Luckily for Dazai, at this age Chuuya was not very balanced, and would be hindered by having to fight through the low branches and bushes.

Dazai slowed, panting, forcing his breathing to calm as he tried to think.

Where would he hide?

Cautiously, Dazai walked a little further until the trees thinned, and right in the middle of a small clearing was a big oak tree, the branches reaching into the partially cloudy sky and the stars shining down through the lack of leaves.

Just past the big tree there was another one, slightly smaller and with lower branches, and between two of the thicker branches rested a slab of wood that he had found in an old dump site nearby.

Naturally, Chuuya wasn't up there. He was terrified of heights.

'Maybe if I could control gravity. and I could fly. I don't want to fall if I can't catch myself,' Chuuya had said.

'If you could control gravity, I would take it away. Yeah, I'd be like... an anti-hero. No. Anti superpowers. I'd be an anti-hero too though, knowing me,' Dazai had responded with a wrinkled nose.

'What's an anti-hero?' he could remember Chuuya asking, his voice clear in his mind.

'A person that does bad things for a good cause, or for a cause they believe to be good.'

'oh. I could believe you would be one of those. I would just be what you were I think. Unless I could be really good guy! Like... a detective! We could be detectives Dazai! That sounds super cool!'

'You would be a terrible detective. You would be in a mafia. You'd be a bad guy.'

'Hey! Why do you get to be a detective while I don't? We should be able to stay together. Why can't we both be in the mafia? Or, or, we could have a cool... what's the word? For when the bad guys get good?'

'A redemption arc?'

'Yeah! We could get a fancy redemption arc and stay friends forever and then go from being in a mafia to being detectives, and then retire with lots of money and we could go live in France or something!'

'...I would like that.'

'Being detectives together?'

'...Being together. Detectives or otherwise. Even if one of us was supposed to be the bad guy. I'd want to stay friends anyway.'

'Of course we would. You would need to be around to stop me from being able to fly. You'd have to be there to annoy me.'

'In every universe?'

'In every universe.'

That conversation had happened while they fought to secure the slab of wood to the tree, Chuuya firmly on the ground as Dazai dangled dangerously while fixing the rope in place.

Now, he could hear Chuuya sobbing behind the tree, and see his waterproof jacket where the fabric had caught when Chuuya sat down.

Dazai slowly went over, and Chuuya jumped in a mix of surprise and fear when Dazai sat next to him, carefully unhooking Chuuya's jacket from where it had caught to avoid it ripping when Chuuya tried to stand again.

"Go away."

Chuuya muttered angrily from where his face was buried in his arms, which were resting on his pulled in knees.

Dazai mirrored Chuuya's position and didn't say anything.

After a few seconds of silence Chuuya pressed into Dazai's side, and lifted his face slightly.

"What's wrong with me, Dazai?" Chuuya asked between heaving sobs, and Dazai tilted his head to the sky.

"I don't know," he admitted quietly.

He always knew what was wrong with people. When Chuuya had pushed him from the slide, he had known his elbow was fractured before it even started swelling. When Chuuya had tonsillitis he had known from how Chuuya described his throat hurting. He always knew.

But this was emotional, it seemed. And he wasn't always sure with this stuff. And even then, he had no clue.

Chuuya just cried harder, so Dazai shifted so he could pull Chuuya into a hug.

"You always know what's wrong! Why don't you know?" Chuuya cried, his hand making a fist in the soft fabric of Dazai's jumper.

Dazai shook his head, and he felt like he might cry too.

"I don't know. I'm sorry Chuuya."

Chuuya screamed quietly into Dazai's chest, not knowing what to do with his anger, and Dazai's bottom lip trembled, and he sniffled.

"...Maybe-" Dazai started, being cut off by a hiccup and a tear. "-Maybe I don't know what's wrong because there's nothing wrong. Maybe your okay. Maybe we're okay. Maybe there's nothing wrong with us. Maybe we can be normal."

"But we're not! But I'm not! I'm not normal! Why can I not be normal?" Chuuya retaliated, his tears now soaking through Dazai's clothes.

"Maybe you're not! Okay! Guess what, big surprise- you're a freak of nature Chuuya!"

Dazai was just as surprised as Chuuya was at his words, and Chuuya pushed himself up to look at Dazai again.

"What?" Chuuya asked, and Dazai watched Chuuya notice the tears on his face as well, and watched his face contort in confusion. "Why are you crying?"

Dazai scoffed, surprisingly angry. Anger was normally Chuuya's thing.

"I don't know. Why are you crying?" he retorted.

"Because you called me a freak of nature!" Chuuya responded, baffled, but the tears had stopped so Dazai counted that as a win.

"So what?! If you're so hellbent on there being something wrong with you, why should I not comment on it?"

"It hurts my feelings! I don't want to have something wrong with me!" Chuuya wailed, and the tears started again, spilling down Chuuya's cheeks like a dam breaking.

"I don't either! But you're saying there's something wrong with you and if there's something wrong with you then there's something wrong with me too! So maybe- maybe it doesn't matter! So what, if you're the only guy in our class who doesn't like a girl? I don't either! So what, if it happens to be you get nervous around the 'mystery boy' you won't tell me about, and so what if you had a dream where you kissed a boy? So. What."

Chuuya seemed stunned into silence. Distantly, Dazai heard a firework go off, despite how sure he was it was still a few minutes to midnight.

"You don't like a girl, I don't like a girl. You dreamed you kissed a boy, I've never dreamed of kissing anyone! So what if you're a freak, because I'm a freak too, and if we're not normal, we're not normal together. And maybe, there's nothing wrong with that."

Dazai sniffled, going quiet as his own tears fell freely down his cheeks. He wiped Chuuya's away, making his fingers damp as they brushed over Chuuya's red cheeks.

Chuuya coughed, and his eyes lit up as another firework exploded into life.

"...You mean that?" Chuuya asked quietly, shaking his hair out his face. The two were likely a sorry sight, huddled together in the damp dirt of a dark forest near Chuuya's house, but Dazai couldn't care less as the velcro on Chuuya's hand me down waterproof got stuck to the soft fabric of Dazai's expensive jumper Mori had bought for him. It was a stupid decision to give a 13 year old kid an expensive piece of clothing.

Dazai nodded solemnly.

"I mean that. In every universe, remember?"

"In every universe," Chuuya echoed, voice sounding oddly awed.

At once, a series of fireworks took to the sky, signalling the turn of midnight.

Both Dazai and Chuuya looked up at the lights, eyes wide with wonder as they watched the fireworks through the trees.

After a few moments Chuuya cleared his throat, and nudged Dazai with his shoulder.

"You've seriously never even dreamed of kissing someone?" Chuuya asked teasingly, and Dazai smiled slightly, his drying tears making his cheeks feel cold.

"You're seriously wearing shorts in the middle of winter?" he retaliated, pushing back.

"Listen, I was warm!" Chuuya said whinily, pouting and then grinning.

Dazai chuckled, and the two went quiet again, until Chuuya interrupted the quiet.

"Do you know what had kicked this all off?" Chuuya asked cautiously.

"Yeah. It was those kids at the park earlier, and then your parents teasing you about new years kisses, wasn't it?" Dazai guessed.

Chuuya nodded, almost guiltily.

"It was just... I had to try so hard to not react earlier, and then I didn't mean anything by saying I thought it was a stupid tradition, but then they were all like, 'oh, you'll probably change your mind when you get a girlfriend!' and I just..."

Dazai hummed.

"They probably didn't mean anything by it. I'm sure if they had known how you were feeling they wouldn't have said it."

"I know. I think it's just... I don't think I'd mind a new year kiss as long as it was a boy. And I don't know how I'm supposed to feel about that," Chuuya said, turning the look at Dazai with wide eyes. "Do you think that makes me... wrong?"

Dazai paused for a moment to think.

"No. I don't think there's anything wrong with that. I'd probably kiss a boy too. You'll just have to find a boy who wants a kiss. I'm sure it won't be that hard."

Chuuya sighed emphatically.

"I'll probably never find a boy I like who likes me back. I'll be alone forever."

Dazai met Chuuya's eyes, and grinned.

"Imagine. Chuuya the loser, who never got a new years kiss."

Chuuya went red, and glared at Dazai.

"Imagine, Dazai the reject, who also never got a new years kiss."

They both went quiet, the sound of fireworks still going off in the distance.

"Seriously, how long do these go off for-"

Dazai quickly pressed a kiss against Chuuya's cheek, pulling back rapidly with a burning face and turning away from Chuuya.

There was a stunned silence, and Dazai risked turning back to face Chuuya again only to have the kiss clumsily returned, and he went even redder.

Chuuya huffed dramatically next to him, his arms crossed as he refused to look at Dazai.

With a shyness Dazai was rather unfamiliar with, he nudged Chuuya with his elbow.

"...What?" Chuuya asked, his voice muffled by what Dazai assumed to be his coat sleeve.

Dazai cleared his throat, the way his face felt warm contrasting the cold air surrounding them, and the snow that was beginning to slowly fall.

"New years kisses are normally on the lips," he said, trying to sound somewhat normal despite the waver in his voice.

"Oh for gods sake!" Chuuya said with exasperation, but it didn't stop him from turning around and grasping Dazai's face between his cold hands.

Chuuya lost his confidence quickly, faltering.

They looked at each other with wide eyes, and that image, of Chuuya with red cheeks, wide blue eyes and messy red hair with snow in it, would be imprinted in Dazai's mind for the rest of his life, along with the 'oh shit,' realisation.

So Dazai bridged the gap, a fistful of Chuuya's jacket in his hand as he pressed their lips together for barely a few seconds, before pulling away rapidly.

It was silent, the fireworks stopping as they parted as the snow getting heavier.

"A few minutes late, but it's fine. Still counts," Dazai said confidently, ignoring the way he felt anything but.

"Yeah. It counts," Chuuya said, sounding slightly breathless.

Dazai swallowed, trying desperately to ignore the taste of the strawberry lip balm Chuuya had got in his stocking at Christmas. He had never noticed how nice strawberry tasted or smelled until now.

"Now if you never get a new years kiss again it doesn't matter. Because you've had one," Dazai said firmly, and he reached for Chuuya's hand, squeezing it tightly. "And if you never find someone to love, I won't either."

"And we can just be friends forever. Best friends," Chuuya added.

"Yeah. Forever and always, in every universe."

 "If it makes you feel any better, I think we're too young to be talking in love anyway."

Chuuya's only response was a quiet sniffle.

"We should head home."

Chuuya's house.

"Just a little longer. Please?"

The slight sadness remaining in Chuuya's tone was all Dazai needed.

"Okay."

"...I'm cold."

"Dumbass. You shouldn't have worn shorts."

"Why're you giving me this, you're probably colder than me."

A warm brown jumper was thrust into Chuuya's hands.

"I'll be fine."

"...Thank you."

"Next time you run away, bring a blanket."

---

Dazai jumped awake, breathing heavily.

His eyes adjusted in the darkness to see the cluttered mess that was his room, and he slouched down, covering his mouth with his hand as a sob ripped its way out of his chest.

He wiped the tears from his cheeks and curled up on his side again, pulling the blankets over his head.

He felt incredibly cold.

Chapter Text

Chuuya marched over to his usual spot at lunch and practically threw himself down into the space beside Dazai, opening his bag and pulling out two things- his lunchbox and his english notebook.

Instantly he got some puzzled looks, but he ignored them, patting down his pockets for a pen.

By now, nobody looked at him weird for the uncovered blue lines on his arms, the shock having worn off within the first few days, most kids more focused on passing their final exams.

Now that his exams were over, he technically didn't need to be in any of his classes, but he enjoyed the routine, and sticking around would likely help him for his next year anyway. They were already beginning to cover the material that he'd need next year.

On top of the academic benefits for him staying in school, plus another symptom for him to note down for his impending autism assessment- it gave him the perfect place to meet up with his friends and begin the search for his soulmate.

Next to him, Dazai wrinkled his nose as he inspected the extra sandwich Chuuya usually packed for him.

"Is there no ham on this Chuuya?" Dazai asked, sounding personally offended. "It's not a ham and cheese sandwich if there's no ham. Then it's just cheese."

Chuuya sighed, tempted to just ignore him, but after the realisation Dazai just wouldn't eat it if he didn't answer, he nodded.

"Yes, there's no ham on it. Kyouka had the last bit in her lunch yesterday and I was not going to go to the shop just because you like your sandwiches with ham. Now shut your lactose intolerant ass up and eat the damn sandwich."

Dazai pouted, hesitating but taking a bite anyway.

"I'm not lactose intolerant, you stupid slug," Dazai whined behind a mouthful of food.

Chuuya rolled his eyes, opening his english jotter and going to the last page, uncapping the sharpie he had found and titling the page 'Chuuya's soulmate suspects' in bold letters.

"Your stomach shouldn't feel like it's ripping itself apart after you've eaten ice cream, stinky ass mackerel," Chuuya retorted needlessly, Dazai's attention already shifted to what he had written.

"...Chuuya's soulmate suspects?" Dazai asked slowly, raising an eyebrow.

Chuuya felt himself go red, and he pushed Dazai defensively.

"Fuck off, don't say it like that! What else am I supposed to call it!? It's a suspect list, there's nothing wrong with calling it that!" he snapped.

Dazai just wrinkled his nose, not saying anything.

Chuuya sighed, deciding to ignore the air of scepticism Dazai was emitting next to him.

He cleared his throat drawing the attention of his friends.

"Right! Now commencing the first meeting of the... Uh...." Chuuya trailed off, thinking of a name.

"Akutagawa. Name," Chuuya said, turning his attention to the boy.

Akutagawa stared back blankly, mouth slightly open.

"...Investigation task force?" he suggested meekly.

Chuuya frowned.

"Too boring. Doesn't quite hit."

Kunikida sighed, looking up from the homework he was doing. Trust Kunikida to spend his lunch doing schoolwork.

"Do we really need a name? We're playing detective in search of your soulmate, it's not like we're official and chasing a murder or something," Kunikida said.

"Just for that you should call it a detective agency," Dazai said quickly, forgoing his mocking disdain towards the investigation at the opportunity to annoy Kunikida.

Chuuya glared at Dazai, but 'detective agency' had a nice ring to it. So, he amended his sentence, starting again.

"Now commencing the first meeting of the soulmate detective agency, with our first case- my soulmate," Chuuya said, smiling slightly. It was nice, a rather childish take on a serious situation that was helping to keep him from freaking out over all the things he still didn't know.

Next to him, Dazai jeered at Kunikida, reaching over to poke at him, while Kunikida just tried to ignore him with a roll of his eyes.

Ignoring them, Chuuya turned to the actually useful few of his friends.

"...Ranpo. What's the best plan of action for investigation?" he asked, and Ranpo raised an eyebrow.

"Why should I help you?" Ranpo asked, sounding bored. "This is simple. Trivial. I could have figured this out when I was half your age."

Chuuya scowled. Ranpo was in the next year up, along with Yosano and a few others that Chuuya knew. Ranpo was planning on going to university after the summer, leaving school with top grades in all his classes. It was infuriating, knowing how lazy he was when it came to anything else. Seriously, how the hell is it fair that Chuuya has to struggle and scrape by in half his classes while people like Ranpo and Dazai and just about anyone else could at least pass easily? Dazai never had to try, and neither did Ranpo. It just wasn't fair, and they never recognised how lucky they were.

"Start looking for people who's favourite colour is blue. We know we're looking for a guy, so who do you know who is a guy and likes blue?" Ranpo said, snapping Chuuya out his thoughts. His voice wasn't gentle, but it was as gentle you got with Ranpo.

Chuuya felt guilty for the direction his thoughts had went. He didn't actually know how much work Ranpo put into his grades, and he didn't know for sure with Dazai either. They both lied over that stuff. Just as it wasn't fair that some people manage to get through school easily, it wasn't fair to assume other people just got good grades without trying.

He took a deep breath, and nodded.

"Yeah, right. That's... I don't know why I didn't think of that, honestly," he said, smiling and trying to think.

Who did he know?

He came up blank.

"I can't think of anyone. Dazai is the only guy I can think of who likes the colour blue, and Dazai can't be my soulmate because I don't have any bruises. Plus the fact that I actually hate Dazai's existence," Chuuya said dismissively.

That statement resulted in a few scoffs of disbelief, and Dazai, who had moved back to lean against Chuuya's arm while eating, huffed indignantly.

"You could have left it after mentioning the lack of bruises! For the record, I hate Chuuya too, and think he's disgusting and stinky. Also- I think the new t-shirt he bought the other day is too big for him and should probably be 'borrowed' by somebody who'll actually fit it," Dazai said, crossing his arms dramatically, but dropping them back to his sides as he said the last sentence teasingly.

Chuuya glared at him, and elbowed him in the side.

"Absolutely not. It's supposed to be big jackass," he responded, pushing his jotter to the side for now and instead taking his lunchbox back from in front of Dazai and picking through it. He found the orange he had packed after (correctly) assuming that morning that he wouldn't be very hungry come lunchtime.

Dazai pouted childishly, and whined.

"Yeahh, but it's supposed to be big for a person, not big for an elf," Dazai said huffily. "I know we've got you back for a few months before santa needs you again, but that doesn't mean you need to drown yourself in fabric to prepare for winter already."

Chuuya exploded in rage, pushing Dazai off of him.

"Fuck you! I'm only 16, I'm still growing!" he yelled, and Dazai snickered from where he'd been shoved on the grass.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm sure the circus will encourage that delusion, they might even give you some stilts!" Dazai taunted, and he got rewarded with a smack over the back of the head.

Dazai flinched and recoiled, panic flashing over his face as he ducked protectively, but it was masked as soon as it appeared, replaced by another pout.

"Chuuyaaaaa! That's mean!" he whined, over annunciating the words.

Chuuya had frozen, not missing the fear he had seen written all over Dazai.

"What was that," Chuuya snapped, not out of anger but panic, noting the slight tense to Dazai's shoulders.

Dazai blinked in well feigned confusion, and tilted his head.

"What was what?" he asked, shifting back to sit leaning against Chuuya again.

Chuuya caught his teeth on his lip, studying Dazai's expression, which was rather hard to do with the jerk practically melting into his side with his eyes closed.

"...That reaction," he said, not quite ready to let it go yet. "You've never reacted to me hitting you like that before."

Chuuya only realised how bad that sentence sounded after he said it, but it was too late to change it. He never hit Dazai with the intention of causing pain, and he trusted Dazai to mention if it was actually sore. Regardless, either that was the first time Dazai reacted like that, or the first time that he had noticed it. He didn't like how that made him feel.

Dazai shrugged.

"You've gotten strong Chuuya! You're a fighter now, I was concerned! You could really hurt me now if you wanted!" Dazai said dramatically. "I can't knock you off balance while we're sitting down!"

Chuuya frowned. He supposed that made sense. He was steadily getting stronger than Dazai, despite Dazai's height difference. While Chuuya was slightly more careful with ensuring he ate healthily, he wouldn't be surprised if Dazai only ate when he was told. That was the main difference between them, and Dazai had always seemed to target his balance when they were play fighting. He hated the idea that Dazai thought he would hurt him. Just as he thought that, Dazai spoke again.

"I don't think you'd actually do it. I'm not scared of you. Why the hell would I be scared of my own dog? You're very well behaved. Never barking at the other dogs. You don't bite," Dazai said with amusement, leaning his head on Chuuya's shoulder.

When Dazai spoke, Chuuya shoved the incident into the steadily growing collection of things he needed to think about but never wanted too. He was going to need one dedicated to Dazai soon.

"Whatever," Chuuya said with a sigh, just returning his attention to the orange, rolling it on the plastic lid of his lunchbox. "I'm not your dog."

When he went to hand the orange to Dazai, Dazai's hand was already reaching out for it, their routine with oranges perfected by now.

Dazai didn't like oranges much, but he liked how they smelled. Chuuya loved oranges, but he couldn't stand the way his hands would smell like citrus for hours afterwards.

So, Chuuya rolled the orange to get the juice flowing, because Dazai would always forget. Dazai would then peel the orange, splitting it in half and stealing a few pieces when he wanted.

Chuuya watched Dazai turn the orange over and pull out the stem, and watched Dazai press his thumbs into the resulting dent in the peel.

Dazai's hands were nice. Smaller than his, but with long and thin fingers. Piano playing hands, Chuuya's mother had said. Dazai's knuckles were permanently red, and it made his skin look paler than it was.

Chuuya cleared his throat, forcing his gaze away from the motion of Dazai's skilled fingers pushing into the orange, pulling the skin off in a practiced movement.

Dazai took two of the orange slices before handing the rest back to Chuuya, not showing any manners as he shoved both slices in his mouth at the same time, barely swallowing them before licking the juice from his fingers.

God, why was he so focused on what Dazai was doing? On his hands, on the slight wrinkle of his nose at the orange texture, on his lips as he licked the juice...

On the smirk, and the slight flush on Dazai's face as he caught Chuuya staring.

"Problem, Chuuya?" Dazai asked, voice teasing.

Chuuya looked down at the peeled orange in his hands, his face burning.

"Just how disgusting you are. You've gotten your germs all over my food. I hope you plan on washing your hands," Chuuya muttered, voice annoyed.

Dazai grinned, wiggling his fingers at Chuuya, pretending to poke him.

"Not until I've covered you in germs too. Watch out! I'll infect you with intelligence, and then all your personality will disappear!"

Chuuya scoffed, and put the lid back on his lunchbox.

"Fine then. I did have those homemade crab cakes you like, but if your hands are so dirty, I can't give you any."

Dazai's eyes widened, and the next second he was standing up, a wide grin on his face.

"I'm not a child, you don't need to bribe me to wash my hands," Dazai said, and Chuuya just looked up at him with a raised eyebrow.

He had paused in closing the lunchbox, but when Dazai didn't move, he clipped one of the sides into place.

Dazai instantly shook his head, and started walking backwards toward the school building.

"No! Don't close it, I'm going!" Dazai protested, and then he turned to run, shouting. "I'll be back, I'll be back!"

Chuuya rolled his eyes, but smiled, unclipping the lid again.

He looked up to find Ranpo and Yosano's eyes on him, both looking unimpressed.

"...What?" he asked cautiously, wondering if he'd done something wrong.

Yosano sighed.

"Nothing."

"You're just oblivious," Ranpo added.

Chuuya shook his head.

Whatever. He's not oblivious. There's nothing to be oblivious to.

Dazai left his phone behind, and it lit up with a message. The lock screen was a picture of them both, which was taken the previous summer, the two of them captured moments before Chuuya pushed Dazai into a river out of annoyance, and got pulled in with.

The message was from Dazai's older brother, Oda. It was simple, just 'have you told him yet' so Chuuya wasn't that interested.

There was nothing to be oblivious to.

---

A few minutes before the end of lunch, Chuuya was walking with Dazai through the halls of the bottom floor, just wasting time before class started again. He sighed, stretching his arms above his head as he walked.

"Seriously, I just want to sleep. I'm exhausted," Chuuya complained, lowering his arms again.

Dazai hummed in agreement, yawning.

"The heats making me tired," Dazai said, shrugging. "Maybe I'll sleep after school. I'm coming to yours, by the way. Won't get anything done if I'm home tonight."

Chuuya was about to respond as they walked past a group of boys, and he got interrupted by a shout.

"Emo!" One of the boys called, and they both stopped, and Chuuya looked at Dazai confused.

Sure, Dazai had the bandages, and Chuuya's fashion and music taste certainly leaned that way, but he'd never been called that in such a demeaning way before.

Egged on by the fact they stopped, another one of the boys chimed in.

"Faggot!" The slur was met with cheers from the rest of the group, and dead silence from anyone else in the hall.

Chuuya clenched his fist and turned around to face the boys.

There was no doubt they were talking to him now.

"The fuck did you just call me?!" he snapped, and Dazai put a hand on his shoulder. A warning.

The boys laughed, pushing each other, clearly finding Chuuya's reaction hilarious.

The boldest of the bunch, the one to first say the slur, stepped forward.

"An emo fag, did you not hear me? Are you deaf as well?" he said, smirking cockily.

Chuuya returned the smirk with a withering glare.

"No I heard you, I just wanted to give you a chance to take it back," Chuuya hissed, absolutely furious.

He hadn't been called that for months now, and he was unbelievably horrified to hear it again. He almost forgot how much the word hurt.

The boy was unfazed, spurred on by the cheers and encouragement his friends were giving.

"Why? What're you gonna do? Call your boyfriend? Your soulmate, maybe?" he taunted.

Chuuya froze, torn between the new level of rage he didn't know he could access, and the cold reminder that everyone knew about his soulmate.

Dazai tried to pull Chuuya away, hand still firmly on his shoulder.

"Chuuya. Let's go," Dazai said, voice cold.

Chuuya shook his head, brushing his hand off, and instead stepped forward, pointing his finger at the asshole who was speaking to him.

"Talk about my soulmate again, I fucking dare you."

The boy froze up, momentarily scared, until one of his friends said something indistinguishable.

He then smirked again, crossing his arms.

"You know, I hope your soulmate kills himself."

Chuuya froze again, but this time, he wasn't torn. Just completely shocked, and horrified.

How the fuck could anyone think that was okay to say?

Chuuya was jerked back by Dazai, a small crowd having gathered by that point.

"Let's go," Dazai said again, his voice more urgent this time.

Chuuya was about to try and protest, about to punch this fucker square in the face, when he spoke again.

"Your soulmate might as well, having you for a partner. It's probably your fault he's cutting himself up. Maybe if you kill yourself, your soulmate won't need to. You should do it."

There was an uncomfortable silence for a second or two, which Chuuya spent engraving the words into his brain, and fighting back tears.

What the fuck?!

Then, the silence was broken by a loud 'smack' sound, and Chuuya realised Dazai's hand was no longer on his arm.

Dazai, Chuuya realised with horror, had punched the boy, who had a hand pressed against the side of his face with wide eyes.

Naturally, the kid's response was to fight back, throwing a punch back towards Dazai, aiming for his stomach, but Dazai dodged it, predicting the move easily, instead lifting a knee into the boy's ribcage as he lunged forward.

A teacher was already running over, but Dazai wasted no time in punching once more, in the center of the boy's face, and the crack sound was enough evidence of a broken nose, even before the kid fell backwards, blood already pouring from his face.

The boy stumbled, tears in his eyes as a teacher pulled him away.

Still, putting on a brave front in front of his friends, he glared at Chuuya, wiping the blood from his nose.

"Get your fucking dog," he spat. "Put it on a leash."

The boy was already being led away by a teacher, and another was coming over, likely to get Dazai.

Chuuya just stood there, stunned and hurt and angry. What the fuck had just happened?

Dazai was seething still, his hands clenched into fists and his knuckles redder than usual. His fingers, which less than an hour ago had been covered in orange juice, were now spattered with blood.

The teachers were more focused on the boy with the broken nose, and Dazai turned back to face Chuuya, his eyes wide, likely as he properly comprehended what he had done.

"What the fuck was that!" Chuuya snapped, stepping forward to Dazai, uncaring of the second flinch he had caused that day.

"I... He told you to kill yourself!" Dazai said back, not expecting the aggression from Chuuya. "Did you expect me to just let him talk to you like that?!"

"I expected you to let me fight my own fights! Jesus Dazai, I had it under control! What happened to leaving?!" Chuuya responded, his own hands in fists as he looked up at Dazai angrily.

This had been his own fight, Dazai hadn't even been brought up, there was no reason for Dazai to step in.

"You did not have that under control! You froze up! He deserved that!" Dazai protested, and Chuuya groaned in frustration.

"So what?! He's got a broken nose now, and you're going to get in shit tons of trouble!" Chuuya snapped.

"For someone so intent on referring to me as their dog, you certainly act like one! I don't need a guard dog, I can handle myself!"

It was Dazai's turn to freeze up. Dazai hated dogs, and Chuuya doubted he had heard what the boy had said, and if he had, he likely hadn't paid attention. But it probably hurt hearing it from Chuuya. Still, Chuuya was still too angry to be thinking about what might or might not hurt Dazai's feelings.

"God Dazai, don't fight for me. You're acting like some overprotective boyfriend, and the last thing I need right now is you getting in trouble and suspended."

Dazai, in an attempt to deflect, smiled slightly.

"Maybe I want to be an overprotective boyfriend."

"Then find someone else to fawn over," Chuuya snapped, furious at Dazai's inability to take this seriously. The comment hurt so much more than he thought it would have, making something ugly twist in his stomach and come up in the form of scathing words.

"I don't like you like that, and I don't need you. I don't need a protective boyfriend, I need a friend who isn't going to blindly throw himself into a fight he told me not to get into. You could have gotten hurt, and you're going to get in trouble. Well fucking done, I'm so grateful you punched that kid for me," Chuuya said, the sarcasm clear in his voice.

Dazai was standing still, his expression impassive as he listened to what Chuuya was saying, but there was a slightly distant look in his eyes, like he wasn't fully there.

"Wow. That's a rather harsh rejection Chuuya," Dazai said blankly. Chuuya scoffed, rolling his eyes.

"You would never be serious with a statement like that. I don't like you and you don't like me. We'll never be more than friends. Don't get any ideas. You're not my soulmate."

Dazai nodded, and smiled.

"You're right. We'd be horrible together. I'm sorry Chuuya, I'll just let the next person call you slurs and tell you to kill yourself."

Chuuya narrowed his eyes.

"Wash your fucking hands," he snapped, and Dazai looked down at the blood on his knuckles.

"And don't bother coming over tonight," Chuuya added, and Dazai scoffed.

"Like I'd want too."

With that, a teacher came and took Dazai away, leaving Chuuya to stand in the quickly emptying hallway, no less hurt and angry than he had been.

---

"Dazai got an in school suspension, as well as library duty during lunch," Kunikida said with a sigh, sitting down on a chair.

Chuuya, Kunikida and Akutagawa had invaded an empty music room after the fight at lunch.

It had originally just been Chuuya and Akutagawa, but Kunikida, as head of their year and a friend of Dazai's, had been dragged in to the meeting discussing what had happened after Chuuya had told the teacher who asked him to come to 'fuck off and tell Dazai to shove his scrawny ass into the nearest bin', and therefore Kunikida had an excuse to be out of class.

Chuuya had only been let off because most teachers were quickly informed of exactly what the boy Dazai had punched said to him.

That was probably the only reason that he wasn't stopped as he had stormed his way into Akutagawa's classroom and snatched him, and why he hadn't been stopped when he- in no means quietly -invaded the music department.

"For how long?" Chuuya found himself asking, despite how he did not care. He never wanted to see Dazai's stupid bandaged ass again. At least until Dazai learned to keep his nose where it belonged.

Kunikida sighed, pushing his glasses up his nose bridge.

"Just for the rest of the week. He's being let off lightly given the... colourful interaction, that happened before the actual fight." Kunikida paused for a moment, shifting uncomfortably. "...His father was also called, to be informed of the events, and to come and collect him."

That revelation made a wave of nausea come over Chuuya for some reason. He didn't know why it made him uncomfortable, but he wasn't happy about that. He could hate Dazai without wanting... whatever he wasn't wanting to happen, to happen.

"I do not like Dazai's father," Akutagawa said, surprising Chuuya and Kunikida.

Chuuya looked at the floor. At least he wasn't the only one who felt bad about him.

Kunikida hesitated before speaking.

"Dazai seemed... off. When he was told his father was going to be called. Dazai's never anything other than happy and enthusiastic, even when he's not wanting to be someplace, he doesn't tend to show his discomfort. But..."

"He froze," Chuuya finished for him.

Kunikida wasn't surprised by his sentence being finished, and nodded.

"I think I was the only one that noticed, aside from Mr Fukuzawa. Nobody said anything though. Mr Fukuzawa knows Dazai's father, apparently. At least, used too. He asked Dazai how his father was doing. Dazai had just shrugged."

Chuuya shook his leg, playing with the fabric of his trousers.

"He does this thing... Dazai- I mean. He does this thing where he goes distant. He looks like he's not actually paying attention to anything that's happening. Like he's not quite... there. Did he...?"

Kunikida nodded.

"Yeah. After he was told his father was going to be called. I didn't see much, I was told to leave not long later. But I've noticed he does that a lot."

The room fell quiet for a few moments, and the door to the room opened, and Shirase walked in, mostly ignoring them as he went to grab a guitar from the wall.

Chuuya winced, a sudden pain shooting across his back and shoulders, and then radiating across the back of his head. It disappeared quickly, so he disregarded it.

In an attempt to break some of the tension, Kunikida spoke again.

"Do you not think you're overreacting slightly with the entire 'I hate Dazai' thing?"

Chuuya bristled, and sat up straight where he was on one of the tables.

"Absolutely not! That fucking jackass needs to learn where the fuck he does and doesn't belong! That was my fight!" he snapped.

"I also believe your anger may be misdi-" Akutagawa was cut off by another rant from Chuuya.

"Listen! The asshole is weak as fuck and and kind of injury he gets will be twice as bad because of his skin thing, he is a fucking idiot and needs to learn what he should and shouldn't do! What if he got hurt! He can't just blindly throw himself into a fight like that! I would have punched the kid myself if Dazai had just waited a few seconds! Now he's got a suspension!"

"Besides, he's annoying, and ugly, and a jackass, and he never brushes his hair, and he always steals my lunches, and he's always in my personal space, and always steals my clothes, and leaves his empty cups on my desk, and is overall a problem! He's infuriating, and a problem. He's annoying, and swings between being the most extroverted asshole to exist to begging me to go home because he's not having fun anymore. He is the most unpredictable, cocky, arrogant asshole I have ever had the displeasure of laying my eyes on!"

There was a snicker from the corner of the room, and Chuuya's gaze snapped to Shirase, who was watching Chuuya's rant. Shirase smirked, and Chuuya's blood boiled before he could even speak.

"Finally realised how useless being friends with Dazai is?" Shirase asked, putting a hand on his hip, the other one holding the guitar he was supposed to be getting.

"Fuck off Shirase," Chuuya snapped, annoyed that he was interrupting his cathartic anti-Dazai rant.

Shirase shrugged.

"I'm just saying, there are plenty more reasons for you to hate Dazai than what you're mentioning."

"Really?" Chuuya challenged, narrowing his eyes.

"Yeah," Shirase responded, taking the bait. "Like his hair, which you mentioned. It's a mess. I doubt he ever washes it. He doesn't look like he brushes his teeth either. His bandages make him look like a freak, plus he's been wearing the same shoes for like a year now. They're falling apart. His Dad's well off, he probably chooses to look like he only has two pairs of trousers."

Chuuya wasn't sure what he was expecting, but that was not it. It was clear Kunikida and Akutagawa hadn't been expecting that either, both looking as shocked as Chuuya felt.

Shirase continued, unbothered.

"One of my friends lives on Dazai's street. There's a little rumour that his Dad hits him. She caught it through a window apparently. Maybe that's the reason he dresses like he some neglected orphan. Because his dad hates him, and his mum left him."

Chuuya was on his feet before he knew what he was doing, but Kunikida was just as fast, firmly pulling him back.

"Get the fuck out!" Chuuya snapped.

"How dare you speak about Dazai like that. You have absolutely no right to talk about anyone like that, and how fucking dare you speculate and make a joke about how Dazai's dad may or may not treat him. Get the fuck out!" Chuuya yelled.

Shirase jumped and left quickly, well aware of the events that had already transpired that day, while Chuuya internally pictured punching the fuck out of Shirase from fifty different angles.

"How dare he speak like that," Chuuya snapped at nobody in particular, shaking Kunikida's hand off. "Nobody can speak about Dazai like that, who the fuck does he think he is."

Chuuya settled back on the table, still furious, and Kunikida cleared his throat.

"While I agree that was extremely unwarranted on Shirase's part, and you have every right to be mad, you were two seconds away from beating the hell out of him," Kunikida said slowly.

Chuuya scoffed.

"Of course I was. Why the fuck would I let him talk about Dazai like that without doing something about it. You should have let me smack that stupid smirk off his face."

"...I think you screaming at him was enough for that," Akutagawa interjected wryly, his comment rewarded with a glare.

Kunikida sighed, and put his forehead in his palm.

"Okay, Chuuya," he said firmly. "Why is it that you hate Dazai this time?" he asked.

Chuuya raised an eyebrow. He thought he had made that pretty clear.

"Because Dazai needs to learn which fights are his, and there was no need for him to pick a fight with the guy who was insulting me."

Kunikida nodded, and looked at him, talking slowly, like he was speaking to a child.

"And why did you just try and pick a fight with Shirase?"

"Because he was insulting Dazai."

Kunikida looked like he might burst a blood vessel any second now, and took a deep breath.

"So, you're mad at Dazai because he fought someone who insulted you, and you just tried to fight someone who insulted Dazai," he said.

Chuuya took a moment, pausing to think over Kunikida's sentence. No... That's... That can't be right?

Chuuya slowly looked up, a look of horror on his face.

"Fuuuuuck," he whispered.

Kunikida nodded in relief, and Akutagawa sighed in disappointment.

"...Holy shit. I was so mad at him. I was such an asshole," Chuuya said, dropping his head into his hands.

Kunikida came to stand next to him, and patted his shoulder.

"In that case, you should probably apologise."

"...I told him not to bother coming over after school."

The wince from Kunikida was audible, a sharp intake of breath.

"You... really were mad."

Chuuya nodded guiltily, feeling ill as he thought back to what he said. He couldn't even remember half of it...

"He'll be in the library at lunch tomorrow. I'm sure you can apologise then," Kunikida said with a sigh.

Chuuya just nodded again, feeling dread pool in his stomach.

He fucked up.

---

Despite knowing Dazai went home, Chuuya still waited for him at the gate when school ended, and looked up to speak to him multiple times on the way home. And despite knowing he had told Dazai to not bother coming over, he still spent most of the evening waiting for Dazai to burst through the door. And lastly, when his goodnight message didn't even get through to Dazai's phone, he fell asleep with tears on his face.

Chapter Text

The teachers had started slowly filing out of Fukuzawa's office a few minutes after Kunikida left.

Apparently Chuuya had ran off somewhere. Probably the practice room in the music department hidden behind the shelves with the spare string instruments. There were plenty of things he and Chuuya had in common. Their appreciation for hidden rooms and small places was one of them.

Since Chuuya had shouted at him he had been warding off the brain fog like a disease, trying to prevent the sickeningly familiar feeling of his vision blurring and thoughts shutting down from happening.

He had let it earlier, and he had slipped up when told Mori was going to be called. But he needed to be alert. Or, alert enough.

Eventually, Dazai and Fukuzawa were left alone, and Fukuzawa smiled pleasantly.

"Would you like a sweet? If I remember correctly you have quite the sweet tooth." Fukuzawa offered, moving to open a drawer.

"No thanks." Dazai responded quickly, his arms crossed defensively. The idea of eating made his stomach turn at the best of times. The last thing he wanted right now was food.

Fukuzawa didn't say anything, just nodding and settling back in his seat.

Dazai shifted, uncomfortable under Fukuzawa's searching gaze.

He remembers Fukuzawa. He and Mori used to be close, until Fukuzawa just never showed up again. That was a year or so after Dazai's mum had disappeared. Then, Dazai went to high school and suddenly the name from when he was a kid had a face, and had two adopted children, and a husband.

And then Dazai spent time around him, and had already been friends with both of his kids, as he had found out, and then realised how much he probably got let off with because of family connections.

He was like a nepo baby but only in high school.

Or, maybe it was just because Fukuzawa had recognised something that other people hadn't. Something he'd only recognise as someone with a history with Mori.

Dazai truly hoped that it was temporary nepotism.

"It's been a while since you've been in here." Fukuzawa commented, his hands sat clasped together on the desk.

Dazai just nodded. His brain felt a little too foggy to think of an answer to that.

Fukuzawa smiled again. It seemed too polite for it too be true.

The only adults who smiled at his like that were Chuuya's parents, Oda and Oda's boyfriend. Letting Chuuya sit in his office the previous year was only his job. No man who had been such close friends with Mori for so long could ever not view him as something less than human.

Fukuzawa seemed to be studying his expression, and he sighed before speaking.

"How are your siblings doing? I haven't seen either of them for quite a while." Fukuzawa asked.

Dazai paused, his eyes narrowed as he searched for the trap in the question. Surely he was looking for something? Hoping to catch him out.

"Elise is fine. She does well in school." Dazai responding, forcing a polite smile onto his face.

Fukuzawa nodded, looking pleased to hear that Elise was alright.

"Ah yes. She's coming here next year, isn't she?" Fukuzawa asked, not expecting a response. Dazai nodded anyway.

"And how is Oda? Last I knew he was going to pursue a career in literature. Did he get accepted to the university he wanted to go to?" Fukuzawa continued.

Dazai tensed up involuntarily, hands tightly fisted in the fabric of his school shirt.

"He got accepted." Dazai said, purposely vague. While Oda had in fact gotten accepted, he had been forced to take a break. He was welcome to go back if he got better, apparently. When, Dazai firmly reminded himself.

Fukuzawa hadn't stopped smiling, and it was slightly anxiety inducing to watch. The man was usually stoic, regarding everything with a muted kind of interest.

"You're rather close with my children, aren't you? Yosano and Ranpo?"

Dazai blinked, and nodded. His brain wasn't working. It didn't want to let him speak aloud. He hated it.

Fukuzawa just hummed, glancing out the window at the clear sky.

Dazai followed his gaze, looking at the kids sitting under the shade casted from the building, their books out in front of them.

Dazai didn't recognise any of them, aside from a long haired boy that Ranpo seemed to have taken a liking to recently.

Fukuzawa sighed, and spoke.

"I try my hardest to make this school safe for everyone here. For some people, like your friend Chuuya, that means intervening to the best of my ability when bullying occurs. For other people, it means specialised timetables or classes. The library is open for as long as it is for a reason, and there are kids who get all three of their meals a day here. Sometimes, what needs to be done to ensure a pupil is safe isn't limited to what I can help with."

Dazai didn't like where this conversation was going, and he shifted defensively, watching Fukuzawa like a hawk.

"There are things that can be done about almost everything. That being said, nothing can be done if we don't know something is wrong. Do you understand?"

Dazai nodded tensely, swallowing the bile rising in his throat.

"If there are any problems, and I mean any-" Fukuzawa said, his expression now serious. "you can tell me. Or you can tell some other teacher, or the Miss Alcott, or even one of your friends, and something can be done."

Dazai nodded again, and spoke, voice quiet.

"Thank you, Mr Fukuzawa, but there aren't any problems aside from how that kid spoke to Chuuya earlier."

Fukuzawa sighed, sounding almost defeated.

"That kid will be dealt with appropriately. I will not take anything he said lightly."

Just then, a knock came on the office door, and a brown haired lady stepped in, smiling politely.

"Mr Fukuzawa? Dazai's father is here."

And just like that, the brain fog was back, and Dazai didn't hear the rest of what Fukuzawa had said as he was herded out into the main office to go home.

---

The car ride home had been dangerously silent. The tension in the air when he was handed from Fukuzawa to Mori had been thick enough to cut with a knife.

The front door slamming meant Dazai had to suppress a flinch, but he couldn't hide it as he was pushed back against the wall of the living room, Elise, who had stayed off school because she didn't feel well, recoiling with horror as she watched Dazai be pinned against the wall.

His back and shoulders hit the wall first, the pain shooting through his body as the wind was knocked out his chest. His head hit the wall next, despite how he tried to lessen the impact, not wanting Chuuya to end up hurt as well.

However, an object in motion stays in motion, and his vision blanked for a second when he hit the wall.

Mori had a grasp on his shirt collar, lifting him off the ground slightly, so that his toes barely touched the floor, and Dazai struggled, his hands grasping and scratching at Mori's wrists.

"I don't give two shits if you're getting into fights, but when I am at work, you behave, or you don't get caught." Mori spat, his voice low. He smelled like antiseptic and the thin hospital bedsheets, and Dazai hated it.

"I wasn't thinking." Dazai gasped out, Mori's fists in his shirt meaning that it was tight around his throat, making it difficult to breathe.

"Of course you fucking weren't. You never are. You'll have been lucky to have passed your final exams." Mori hissed.

Dazai flinched away, just hitting his head again, and he swore he could feel something sticky on the back of his neck.

"I tried. I did all the work, I'm predicted for the top grades in my year!" Dazai protested desperately.

"Top grades don't mean anything if you can't apply yourself anywhere else. And I don't mean that theatre club you were interested in, or wasting time with those friends of yours, I mean open days, and online courses. High school will only get you so far."

Dazai swallowed, and he took a gasping breath as Mori's grip on his shirt tightened.

"I- I didn't do the theatre, and I'm coming to your stupid medical thing-"

Dazai stopped speaking when Mori let go of his shirt with one hand, making the motion to hit him.

"Chuuya's my soulmate!" He screamed instead, pressing against the wall.

Mori froze, and narrowed his eyes.

Dazai continued, hands shaking where he was still tightly holding onto Mori's other wrist.

"If you hit me, he'll feel it, and it'll show up on his body. He'll ask questions." Dazai said, ignoring the uncharacteristic tremble in his voice.

Mori scowled, and let go of his shirt, letting Dazai fall to his hands and knees on the ground, gasping and shaking.

"He'll never love you. Soulmates aren't definite." Mori snarled.

"I'm going back to the hospital. Feed Elise. Neither of you are allowed to leave the house, and the bathrooms both need cleaned. I want them done before I'm back."

Mori said, and he left, taking with him the spare key, and locking the door.

Dazai watched from the floor, breathing shuddery and tears in his eyes.

Elise was next to him in second, and hugging him, and he returned the hug, blinking away the tears.

"It's okay, I'm okay. I'm okay." He whispered repeatedly, unsure who he was trying to convince. It had been a while since Mori had gotten that physical, and on top of Chuuya's harsh words earlier? He couldn't cope.

"You're bleeding." Elise responded, the fear in her voice clear, and Dazai raised a hand, pressing it to the back of his head.

He pulled it away to see blood on his fingers, a product of being hit into the wall.

He looked up at the mark of blood on the white wall and winced.

Then he took a shaky breath, and stood up, ignoring the way he was still trembling and pulling Elise up with him.

"I'll be fine. You go get the cleaning things and I'll deal with my head. Once we've cleaned you can have dinner, and we'll put on a movie." He said, herding her out of the living room.

"Are you not going to eat again?" Elise asked quietly.

"I'm not hungry." Dazai said after a moment. He took a deep breath, then put his hands on either one of Elise's shoulders.

"Listen to me. What's the golden rule?" He asked, voice firm.

Elise blinked, fear in her eyes, and Dazai felt sick as he realised he was probably acting like Mori. He didn't let up though. This was important.

"Don't tell." Elise answered quickly.

Dazai nodded, and let go of her shoulders, putting on a smile.

"And what just happened?" He asked, voice softer.

"Nothing happened. Dazai got told off for starting fights." Elise answered, looking at the floor.

Dazai sighed, going to run a hand through his hair and then stopping himself as he remembered the blood.

"Good. Now, go get the cleaning things and we'll be done quickly.".

---

Taking his shoes off when he came in from work, Fukuzawa ignored his children barreling past him and throwing themselves on the couch in favour of joining his husband in the kitchen.

"Yosano, Ranpo! Take your shoes off before you come in, or you'll be cleaning the dirt out the carpet!" Fukuchi chastised from the doorway, being mostly ignored aside from a dismissive wave.

Fukuchi sighed in irritation, just returning the vegetables he was chopping.

"I don't know why I even try with those two. It goes in one ear and out the other." He said, but his voice was laced with fondness.

Fukuzawa smiled, pressing a quick kiss against his husband's cheek.

"They've both had a long day. You can tell them off for it if they do it again tomorrow."

Fukuchi shook his head, but relented easily. He was never usually the one to enforce the rules, but he was getting tired of the dirty footprints on the carpet.

"How was work today?" Fukuchi asked.

Fukuzawa frowned, washing his hands absentmindedly before going over to help prepare the vegetables, slicing a potato in half.

"There was a fight. It's a high school, so fights are common..." He started, furrowing his eyebrows as he cut the potato into squares.

"But?" Fukuchi prompted, glancing at him.

"It was Mori's kid." Fukuzawa said, cutting into the next potato with a slight bit of agression.

Fukuchi wrinkled his nose childishly.

"Fighting with that friend of his again? The Nakahara boy? I swear, from what I can tell they're always at each others throats. I have no clue how they're still friends."

Fukuzawa laughed a little, shaking his head.

"They don't fight as often as it might seem. It's usually jokes or pranks that go far enough for a teacher to call them out on it. Though, it seems to be that when they do fight, it's devastating for both of them."

He sighed again, glaring at the pile of cut potatoes like they were the cause of all his problems.

"One of the boys in the year below them called Chuuya a few... bad names." Fukuzawa said pointedly.

Fukuchi took a deep breath, pausing what he was doing to properly turn to Fukuzawa.

"Like it was last year?" Fukuchi asked, sounding annoyed.

Fukuzawa nodded, the disgust clear on his face.

He remembered the mess there had been the previous year surrounding Chuuya, between his friend group splitting up and causing trouble, and then the bullying that came just after when the boy had came out... It had been a mess, and the kid and his friend had been in his office for another fight every other day.

There had come a point where he had just let Chuuya and his friends sit in his office during their lunch for a week or so until it had died down.

So he knew the kid, and he knew his friend, and he knew how much trouble the two could cause.

Honestly, when he realised that they always seemed to be getting into fights together he considered splitting them up and putting them in separate classes, until he looked at their records.

Every class Chuuya and Dazai had together that year, Chuuya's academic success had rapidly gotten better, and Dazai's attendance (ignoring the classes that Chuuya hadn't been in, because attendance for those was below fifty) magically settled around eighty.

And then, during the week with lunches spent in his office the previous year, Dazai had been there every day, and he learned that Dazai (rather condescendingly) went over the things Chuuya didn't understand in his classes, and Chuuya (rather violently) threatened that if Dazai wasn't in school he would 'wring his mackerel ass out like a wet towel'. And that apparently worked for the two.

So, instead of separating them, when he learned they had picked all the same classes, he took special care to ensure they ended up together. It had been a pain in his ass, but it had paid off, Dazai coming into school more regularly than he ever had, and Chuuya predicted for nothing lower than a B in his exams.

So really, he was unsurprised when he found out it was Dazai who had broken the boy's nose.

He sighed, retraining his thoughts and speaking again.

"Dazai, Mori's middle son, broke the boy's nose. He has a nasty bruise as well, right across his cheek."

"As he should have."

"Genichiro." Fukuzawa reprimanded quickly. Then, he conceded the point. "While he shouldn't have done it, I would likely have done the same at his age."

Fukuchi snickered, and was rewarded with a light elbow.

"I had to call Mori to get him. Mori did not sound happy. And the boy froze when I informed him his father would be called."

Fukuchi frowned.

"...I'd understand being upset, or annoyed at a parent being called, but freezing up? That's not... That's a fear response. No kid should be scared of their parent being called."

Fukuzawa nodded in agreement.

"I know Mori. I'd... I believe I still know Mori, to a degree. I hate to admit that I find it perfectly plausible for Dazai to be genuinely scared of him. He was pleasant enough when he came to collect Dazai... I just don't trust it."

Fukuchi seemed to be thinking, his arms crossed as he leaned against the counter.

"Is there enough reason to bring social work into it? Do you think you could open a case?"

Fukuzawa shook his head, bringing his hands to his face.

"No. The only thing I have is that he seems uncomfortable when discussing his family. He hasn't said anything, or done anything to warrant a case. They'd look at it and go, 'perfectly respectable family, nothing wrong here, case closed'. The only thing that might arouse suspicion would be Dazai's clothes and hygiene, but his clothes would be fixed before anything could come from it, and his hygiene would be explained away as a typical 'teenage boy with sensory issues can't stand showing'. I know what Mori's like."

"If something is genuinely wrong, this is a situation where socialwork would just made the situation worse."

Fukuchi sighed.

"Dazai is the boy with the bandages in the photos Yosano showed us the other night, right?" He asked, and Fukuzawa already knew where that question was leading.

"The bandages are for a skin condition. He bruises really easily, and most contact with his body hurts, according to his medical files."

"Is there anything on his medical files that could warrant suspicion?"

"Aside from him being underweight, there isn't anything. I checked. Twice. Extensively." Fukuzawa said tiredly.

Fukuchi paused, and for a moment it was quiet, just the sound of the tv from the living room, and their breathing.

"Do you think Ranpo knows anything? Yosano, maybe?" Fukuchi asked quietly.

Fukuzawa shook his head.

"I don't want to bring them into this. That isn't fair, and if they did know something, and told us, it would be a fast track to losing their friendship with Dazai. Abused kids are defensive kids, and Dazai's been protective and defensive since he was young."

"Do you think Ranpo will tell us if something serious happens?"

They both know how smart Ranpo is, and they both know Ranpo and Dazai are fairly close. If anyone was going to have found a way to worm the truth out of Dazai, it would have been Ranpo or Chuuya, and Chuuya clearly hadn't.

"...No. You remember how Ranpo- and Yosano, for that matter- were when we adopted them. Neither of them would tell anyone what their parents had done or said until months into living with us. They still won't tell us everything. I think Ranpo would understand why Dazai wants to hide it. I don't think he'd break Dazai's trust."

Fukuchi looked away, his eyes drawn to the pictures stuck to the fridge door, and Fukuzawa followed his gaze to the picture of Ranpo and Yosano and their friends, and Dazai was in a few of them, smiling, usually sandwiched between Chuuya, Ranpo and Kunikida.

Dazai had a camera, according to Yosano, and would take it with him if they hung out in a group, or went somewhere special. Then he'd send the pictures and videos he took to everyone, and that was where all her pictures on her wall came from.

The one on the fridge was supposedly the most recent one of all her friends together. Usually, it'd be a positive thing, but now all he could look at and see was a group of kids who all had their luck cut out for them. They seemed to have drifted together naturally, but Fukuzawa found himself wondering if there was some underlying air of misfortune that drew the lot to each other. A silent 'I've suffered too' that keeps them together.

He hates that children are forced to carry a burden like that.

He rubbed at his wrist as he thought.

It had felt like an uncomfortable burning was eating at his skin for a few hours now, but he had pushed it aside, more focused on work than the discomfort.

Now, he looked down at his wrists and finally noticed the faint purple marks littering the sides of his wrists.

After a moment Fukuchi noticed it too, and quickly took his hand, looking at them.

Fukuzawa would normally see a purple blemish on his skin and wish he could scrub it off, nauseous at the reminder of what could have been, of what he had wanted for so long.

Now he felt sick for another reason, at the clear half moon shapes, and fainter scratches coming off them.

Like someone had been scratching at a wrist, trying desperately to hold on, or push away, or generally hurt.

Fukuchi demonstrated this by wrapping one of his hands around Fukuzawa's wrist, his fingers lining up with the most prominent of the marks.

"...what do you think caused that?" Fukuchi asked, discomfort clear in his voice.

Fukuzawa was at a loss for words as he thought of the many different ways an injury like this could be inflicted. All methods seemed to lean towards self defense.

"I don't even want to know," was his response.

Halfway across the city, Mori glared at the angry red scratches on his wrist, a product of his sons sharp nails. Then, he covered them with a pair of gloves, on his way to prepare for his next surgery.

Chapter Text

When Chuuya had woke up that morning with a pounding headache and brand new lines on his hips and thighs, he barely blinked. He was too tired to be worried.

His sleep had been fitful at best, distorted glimpses of a tall brunette boy being the only thing he could remember from his broken dreams.

All day he had been thinking about what to say when he saw Dazai again, staring out windows or at his hands as he thought.

Traipsing up the stairs to the library, he couldn't help but feel sick.

He still couldn't remember half of what he had said, but he knew none of it had been nice, and that he regretted it immensely.

Part of him hoped Dazai wouldn't forgive him, and would tell him to get out.

But they had fought like this before. He knew that likely wouldn't happen.

They had always fed off the fact that they could be as ruthless and cruel to the other as possible, and they'd still end up back together somehow.

They were too codependent for their own good. Not that he'd ever admit that aloud.

He lifted his head to see Dazai carrying a stack of books, watching as Dazai pushed the door to the library open with his hip, and noticing the wince at the contact.

He frowned. Dazai always seemed to be hurt these days. It made sense, he supposed, but he still didn't like it.

Chuuya waited a few moments before he also entered the library, collecting himself.

When he went in, the library was completely empty so it wasn't hard to spot Dazai in the far corner, putting away the copies of a book that was being used in an english class, judging by how many there were.

Sighing, Chuuya put his hands in his pockets and walked over, standing behind the kneeling Dazai.

There was an awkward silence in which Dazai didn't acknowledge him, so Chuuya took it upon himself to speak.

"You look like shit." He commented, his tone empty.

It was true. While Dazai looked neater than usual, clean clothes and hair, he looked pale and tired, and he smelled like antiseptic rather than his usual strawberry.

Dazai scoffed, not looking up.

"You sound like shit. Came here to take out your anger on me?" Dazai asked, sounding annoyingly enthusiastic.

Chuuya scowled.

"Waiting for the opportunity to break my nose if I do?" He retorted quickly.

It went quiet as Dazai stood up again, the books all put away on the shelf, surprisingly neat for the fact it had been Dazai of all people putting them away.

Dazai turned back to face Chuuya, looking at him with a level expression.

"If you decide to start talking shit about yourself, maybe." Dazai said blankly.

Chuuya looked down at his shoes, feeling a mix of resentment and guilt well in his chest.

"...I'm sorry." He said quietly, kicking the ground. He had been flitting between admitting he was in the wrong and cursing Dazai's name rapidly, but he knew he shouldn't have said anything that he had, regardless of whether Dazai should have started that fight.

And now he knows- If it had been Dazai spoken to in that way, he would have done the exact same thing.

"I'm sorry for getting so mad at you yesterday, and saying all those things. I didn't mean them, and you didn't do anything I wouldn't have also done in your situation."

It was quiet again, and Chuuya prepared for Dazai to walk away, or tell him to leave, until Dazai responded.

"Hmm? What was that? I'm not quite sure I heard you." Dazai said in an innocent tone, but Chuuya looked up again to see the shit eating grin on his face and knew he had been heard loud and clear.

Chuuya relaxed almost instantly, the tension melting from his shoulders.

"I said I'm sorry!" Chuuya said again, louder, voice exasperated.

Dazai shrugged, still grinning.

"Ah, I thought so. I was just so shocked! Chuuya, apologising? I thought the day would never come!" Dazai said dramatically, a hand on his forehead as he mimed fainting from shock.

Chuuya scowled, taking in the display.

"Yeah? You've been building a habit of apologising too recently. Maybe its infectious." He said sarcastically, taking his hands out of his pockets to cross his arms.

"Maybe I really did infect you with intelligence yesterday..." Dazai mused aloud, side eyeing Chuuya.

Chuuya huffed, rolling his eyes.

"Yeah whatever. Do you accept my apology or not?" He asked, subconsciously picking at the skin around his nails, his tone betraying his anxiety.

Dazai hummed thoughtfully, and sighed like he was making an extremely hard decision.

"I suppose I can spare some forgiveness for my dog. It's not his fault he barked. I should have gave him more pets." Dazai said, and to punctuate his sentence he roughly pushed his hands into Chuuya's hair, messing up the already tangled mess.

Chuuya squawked in indignation, batting Dazai's hands away, his cheeks going red as he stumbled.

He fell backwards as he was knocked off his balance, and he grabbed Dazai's shirt in an attempt to keep himself upright, and instead just pulled Dazai down with him.

He hit the floor with a loud thump, hitting his back off one of the bookcases. Dazai promptly fell on top of him, hands holding onto the bookshelf on either side of Chuuya's head to prevent himself from falling further.

They both froze, faces heating up, and Chuuya's mouth fell open slightly as he looked up at Dazai, who had a knee on either side of his hips, and a hand either side of his head.

Dazai's face was flushed and his eyes were wide, like his brain had short circuited, breathing quickly and heavily, the sunlight flooding through the large windows in the library light his eyes up to have an almost red tint to them.

Something in Chuuya's brain clicked into place, a realisation he couldn't put into words flooding his sensations, making his stomach twist and his mouth go dry.

He must be sick. He's sick. He must have a fever. God, let him be sick. There's no other explanation for how hot he felt, or for the sudden urge to shiver.

Chuuya had his eyes firmly trained on Dazai's but he's sick. He's sick, and delusional, because Dazai's eyes drop from his to look at the lower half of his face, and neither of them are moving yet.

And then Dazai's arms are around his shoulders, and they're hugging.

Chuuya relaxed instantly. This was familiar territory. Suddenly the box of things he didn't want to think about to do with Dazai was overflowing. He pretended it wasn't as he returned the hug.

They stayed like that for a little longer, clinging to each other in the empty library.

Then Dazai spoke, voice quiet but clear in his ear.

"Want me to fix your hair?" Dazai offered, pulling away slightly.

Chuuya let him go, clearing his throat and averting his gaze.

"Uh, yeah." He muttered as Dazai shifted, and he moved to sit in front of Dazai.

"You know, it wouldn't have needed fixed if you hadn't messed it up, so this is your fault." Chuuya continued after a moment, feeling Dazai's fingers begin to card through his hair.

"Yeah yeah!" Dazai said mockingly, working the knots out of Chuuya's hair quickly.

"It wouldn't!" Chuuya protested, smiling faintly.

Dazai scoffed.

"It was already a mess when you walked in, if anything, I made it better." Dazai said, and Chuuya could practically hear the face he was making.

Dazai tugged Chuuya's hair slightly, and spoke.

"Head up." Dazai demanded rudely, and Chuuya obliged, face heating up as he tilted his face up, used to Dazai's rudeness when doing his hair. As though they had to cancel out the... familiarity of doing something like that with insults and bickering.

Like they couldn't quite allow it to be quiet.

Chuuya didn't want to take that thought further, instead patting his pockets for a hair tie as he felt Dazai begin to braid his hair.

He had this taken away from his for less than a day and ended up distraught. He doesn't want to know how he'd end up if they were separated for longer than that.

Chapter Text

Dazai's Thursday had been like any other.

He had woken up, gotten ready, gone to school, served his current prison sentence, gone home with Chuuya, spent two hours trying to explain how to rearrange formulas to Chuuya for the fifth time, and then left to go back to Mori's house.

He had gotten back, made some soup for Elise and sat and watched my little pony with her (she keeps insisting it's not a children's show, and Dazai keeps pretending that he doesn't enjoy watching it with her), and carried her to bed when she fell asleep early.

It had been a good day. He had gone the entire day without hurting himself.

It was a good day.

Until it wasn't.

Dazai was curled up on his bed, his room lit by a lamp on the table beside his bed, and he was drawing in one of his sketchbooks, an idea that had been rattling around in his head since he and Chuuya had spent a good chunk of the time they were supposed to be going over maths talking about cats instead.

The proportions were probably a little off, but Dazai didn't spend a lot of time thinking about or drawing cats, so he figured it was good for a first try. He could always draw them more.

'Honestly', Dazai thought, tracing over a fluffy ear and smudging the pencil to create an illusion of soft fur, 'this'll probably be the new thing I draw in the margins of my jotters'.

It was peaceful for a moment long until the front door opened and then slammed shut, the sound broadcasting Mori's arrival home from work.

He tensed and looked up as he heard footsteps coming up the stairs, recognising Mori's dragging steps and listening to where they were heading.

When Mori opened his bedroom door, Dazai jumped defensively, scrambling back on his bed and stuffing the sketchbook he had been drawing in under his blankets.

Mori didn't even bat an eye however, and Dazai stared at him with wide eyes, breathing quickly, his body frozen as he waited for him to speak.

After a moment of dead silence, Mori spoke, voice cold and empty.

"Your brother's dead." 

A common metaphor used to refer to trauma and the effect it has on the brain, especially a child's brain, is a mirror. The idea is that a child is born with a perfectly intact mirror that shows the childs reflection, or, their identity. Trauma then causes cracks in the mirror, distorting the childs sense of identity, and causing trauma responses. The worse the trauma, or the bigger the reaction, the larger the crack, or break. Large traumas, such as abuse or assault, instead of causing cracks, can instead have the same result as dropping the mirror.

It shatters.

Applying this metaphor to Dazai would paint a picture of an already shattered mirror, put back together with a glue stick found on the floor of a classroom, the remaining pieces pressed together awkwardly in an attempt to pretend it was never broken.

As Mori spoke, in that cold and detached tone, Dazai could hear the mirror shatter all over again. He could feel the shards getting stuck in his skin, and entering his bloodstream. He hoped one would pierce his heart.

"What." Was all he could get out, not recognising the sound of his own voice.

He felt like he wasn't there, instead watching the scene from far away, looking through someone else's eyes.

Mori's expression was blank, and there wasn't any inflection behind his tone as he amended his sentence.

"Dying. Not dead. He will be by the end of the night."

Dazai was completely frozen, not even blinking, the pencil he had been holding falling out of his grasp.

He could clearly see the drawing he had been working on in his mind, three fully drawn cats, one in auburn red, one gray with glasses, and one black with bandages around the tail. The two bigger cats had been sketched with their tails intertwined, the smaller black one sitting beside them, with the rough sketch of what should have been a scruffy ginger tabby next to it.

He could feel the paper crumpled up against his leg in his careless haste to hide it.

"He's been on a steady decline for a few days. Took a massive drop earlier today and was hospitalised."

Dazai blinked a few more times, dumbfounded. Then suddenly Dazai was moving again, throwing himself out of his bed, furious.

"You mean he's been in hospital for hours already? And you knew that he was getting worse?" Dazai shouted accusingly, running a hand through his hair and wincing as he caught a nail on the scab on his scalp.

"Calm down Dazai." Mori said, sounding disinterested. "I was working, how did you expect me to tell you?"

"I don't know, by picking up a fucking phone maybe?!" Dazai retaliated, his breathing quick and heavy.

"Dazai. Calm down. You're acting crazy." 

"I'm acting crazy?! You have absolutely no emotion towards the fact that your oldest son is dying!" Dazai spat.

"You're behaving like your mother." Mori said, looking at Dazai with narrowed eyes.

Dazai bristled, even more angry. Anger was becoming an increasingly common emotion.

Something must have been wrong with him, because he's never felt so much before. Or felt so strongly. But all soulmate stuff had broken something in him, and instead of always feeling tired or apathetic, he was feeling angry or sad increasingly frequently . 

"You have no right to talk about my mother like that- or any right to compare me to her." He hissed, pointing a finger at Mori.

He knew he was being antagonistic, that this was a bad idea, but there was a newfound confidence bubbling under his skin. If Mori hurt him Chuuya would find out. He wouldn't need to worry about Oda finding out.

If he antagonised Mori enough, maybe he'd snap and kill him so he wouldn't need to do it himself.

Even if Mori didn't kill him, he deserved the pain. He wanted it.

Mori's expression darkened at Dazai's words and body language, taking a threatening step forward before he was interrupted.

Upon hearing the commotion, Elise had woken up, standing in the hallway a safe distance behind Mori, holding a brown teddy bear.

"...What's happening?" She asked, sounding scared. "What's wrong with Oda?" 

Dazai used the distraction to scramble in his room in search of his shoes, and his head snapped up at the question.

"Yeah Mori. What is wrong with Oda- seeing as you never actually told me?" He asked accusingly, finding his shoes and wasting no time in slipping them on.

"Lung cancer. Metastasized to his heart, he had a heart attack earlier today, hence why he's in hospital. He won't make it through the night." Mori said, still sounding bored but with a cruel smirk faint on his face.

Dazai froze again in the process of patting his sheets down for his phone.

All that coughing... 

Fuck. Why didn't he realise? Why didn't Oda get better?

Mori sighed from the doorway, and Dazai snapped back into action, pointedly silent as he found his phone and shoved it in the pocket of the worn down jeans he was wearing. Antagonising Mori into hopefully hurting him could wait. Mori would probably get angrier the longer Dazai was gone anyway.

He'd probably regret all this later.

"And where do you think your going?" Mori asked, watching Dazai closely.

"Where you should be." Dazai spat as he patted his pockets down to check he had everything, and he marched to his door, moving to push past Mori, who was blocking the doorway. 

Instead of slipping past like he had intended, he ended up being pushed backwards, stumbling and falling against his bedframe, landing with a wince, gasping and feeling a sick sense of satisfaction as pain laced through his wrist when he tried to catch himself.

Mori ran a hand through his hair as though trying to calm himself, then put both his hands behind his back.

"You know Dazai, this room is a mess. It has been for quite a long time." Mori said thoughtfully, eyes flitting around the clothes on the floor and the school work everywhere.

"I expect this room to be spotless by tomorrow. You can go to the hospital and say goodbye to Oda once you're done."

Dazai's jaw dropped, his eyes welling up with tears as he looked up at Mori from the floor, forgetting about his bid for attention from Mori.

That had not been what he was expecting. Not in a million years.

He tried to protest, the words running through his brain but dying before they could escape his mouth, as though there was an invisible force preventing him from speaking. 

Mori paid him no attention, instead leaving the room and closing the door, locking it from the outside.

As a single tear fell, tracking it way down his cheek, he heard Mori speaking to Elise outside.

"Come on downstairs Elise, we'll call Ango that way you have a chance to speak to Oda, okay?" Mori's muffled voice came through the door.

"But... Dazai-" Elise protested hesitantly, being cut off.

"Yes, it's such a shame Dazai didn't want to say goodbye, isn't it? Oh well. Shows just how much he cares about his family, I suppose."

With that Dazai could hear Mori guide Elise down the stairs, and the sound of Mori's phone dialing what he knew would be Ango's phone number.

He felt like he might throw up. Violently.

Dazai would like to say that the second he heard the footsteps hit the bottom of the stairs he was up again, scrounging his desk for his bus card and breaking his door down to leave.

But that would be a lie. 

For a while, he sat there, frozen on his floor, the tears silently falling down his cheeks as he stared in the direction of his bedroom door. His vision was blurry and his thoughts fuzzy, a distant pain in his head and wrist poking at the edges of his awareness, begging for his attention. 

He couldn't find it in himself to care.

He didn't know how long he sat there, aware but not taking in anything happening around each other, the faint sound of cars passing or the occasional group of teens sounding foreign to him.

It was a buzzing in his pocket that pulled him out of the murky swamp that had become his thoughts, blinking away the mist as he pulled his phone out to see Chuuya's typical goodnight message.

---New Messages---

 Tue 6th May

SLUG!: Goodnight

Yesterday

Wed 7th May

19:28

SLUG!: Haev you rlly stil lost yoir phone dunbass?

21:47

SLUG!: Goodnight loser

SLUG!: FIND YOUR PHONE. 

SLUG!: Thsi is gtting old I'll jst send yiu ltters insted of messages if yiu dont dinf it soon

Today

Thur 8th May

15:12

SLUG!: Meet me back gates

21:51

SLUG!: I knw yoi have yoru phpens foud again theres no esxcuse fro you not answering me

SLUG!: stupid mackrel i see yoir online

Dazai took a deep breath, bringing himself back down to earth from wherever he had floated off to.

He needed to get it together. He could start by replying to Chuuya, and then work from there.

maybe im not responding to you bcs i have better things to do :P :MCKRL

also, if you're going to call me a mackerel, at least spell it right. :MCKRL

It took too much of Dazai's energy to type out those responses. He did it anyway. 

Taking the moment to do something other than stare blankly gave him a moment to let the pain still in his wrist and head ground him for a second, to let him come to an important conclusion.

He'd be damned before he just gave up and spent the night cleaning his room while his brother suffered.

And so he picked himself off the floor, wiped the tears from his face, and went to his desk, picking through the various papers to find his bus card, slipping it in his pocket.

Then, for the first time in months, he opened the curtains to his window, looking out at the dark street.

His phone chimed with Chuuya's response, so Dazai turned the screen on again, purposely breathing slowly as he read it and responded.

SLUG!: shut the fuyck up yo anoying poece of shit 

SLUG!: i just wanted to say goodnight nit get bulied fro how i spell 

SLUG!: I hust dont pay attetion hats all

sure, sure. whatever you say. :MCKRL

anyway. you're here to say goodnight. goodnight. :MCKRL

Chuuya didn't respond immediately, even though the message was seen instantly, so Dazai turned his attention to the window, inspecting the latch, unsure if he'd be able to open it quietly.

However, hut put his phone down and carefully pressed open each latch, each one making nothing more than a soft click as they came undone. He let out a sigh of relief as they barely made any sound, hurriedly ensuring they were all clear.

When they were all unlocked and pulled away he hooked his fingers under the wood of the frame, pulling it up, struggling slightly as the window hadn't been opened since the previous summer.

When it was finally pushed up enough that he could get his hands under it, he pushed it up the rest of the way, his wrist screaming at him for every moment it was under pressure.

It didn't take long until it was as high as he could get it, and he paused, breathing heavily and shaking his wrist out, glancing down at his phone when Chuuya finally responded.

SLUG!: Are you okay

SLUG!: You dont normally message like that

SLUG!: Or just let me go to sleep, you'd normally want to talk first

Dazai looked down at the message, catching his lip between his teeth, watching the typing bubble appear as Chuuya sent another message.

SLUG!: My wrist really hurts if your looking for something to talk about

SLUG!: I don't know

SLUG!: You're seeing my messages. Are you okay

Dazai took a deep breath, and then responded again.

i'm fine. i'm just particularly tired tonight. trying to explain how algebra works to you wasn't easy you know. :MCKRL

you're like a cat. clingy, yet would never admit it. why're you so attached to me huh? paying attention to how i type... something to tell me Chuuya? :MCKRL

The affect was instant, Chuuya responding quickly.

SLUG!: FUCK YOIU IMK NOT CLING Y YOUR AN ASHELE I HATE OYU

SLUG!: GOODNIGHT.

Despite the situation, Dazai smiled.

goodnight darling, sleep well <3 :MCKRL

SLUG!: FUCK YOU!AJDHIFG 

Clearing his throat and ignoring the burning on his face, Dazai returned his phone to his pocket, focusing on the major issue at hand. 

His older brother was dying, and he was locked in his bedroom and planning on scaling the side of his house to leave.

Smiling and blushing over his text messages with Chuuya seemed like a stupid waste of time now.

However, he was calmer. A little. 

At least he had moved from his floor.

Swinging his leg over the his windowsill, he looked down at the ground, which seemed dizzyingly far away. He knew he wasn't that high up, only on the second floor, but he also knew that falling would hurt. 

More importantly, because he couldn't care less about getting hurt himself, falling would hurt Chuuya.

Unfortunately, he didn't have time to think of any alternative solutions. 

So he took a deep breath and he swung the other leg over the edge as well, gripping onto the ledge firmly with his hands, twisting his body and sliding off the ledge, dangling precariously with his face up against the wall.

The movement wasn't as smooth as he would have liked, the force of the sudden drop pulling at his joints, making him gasp in pain as his wrist flared up again, the pain feeling like flames licking up the side of his arm.

He could feel himself shaking, and his palms sweating.

All he could think was don't look down.

After a moment he firmly closed his eyes, moving agonisingly slowly as he shifted his way along the length of his window until he could kick out and reach the roof of the garage.

After a few tries he managed to get his foot on it, and quickly scrambled the rest of the way onto it, falling on his knees the second he was safe, his hands trembling violently, the pain in his wrist dialing down significantly due to the lack of pressure.

It wasn't hard from there, he knew.

He jumped down from the garage roof easily, wincing as he rolled his ankle but landing nonetheless, the damp grass soaking through the fabric of his shoes.

He didn't give himself a chance to think when he landed, instantly beginning to run, not giving Mori another second to potentially realise he was leaving then he already had. Dazai only stopped running when he was three streets away, and he could see the bus stop across the street.

By some major miracle, the bus was already pulling into the stop by the time he arrived, his bus card already in his hand.

He got a few weird looks, but he could understand why. He looked a mess, wearing dirty jeans, a tshirt that didn't belong to him, and panting like he'd just run a marathon, not even mentioning the bandages.

But he was let onto the bus anyway, collapsing in a seat near the back.

It would be at least an hour to the hospital, and he didn't bring his headphones.

Instead, he let the brain fog take over. He couldn't be here anymore.

---

When Dazai got to the hospital the first thing he could think about was how much it smelled like Mori. The second was how much he hated doctors.

Thankfully, when he showed up at the reception looking like he'd seen a ghost, the lady behind the desk had been polite enough to give a pen and a sticky note to write out what he was looking for when he couldn't get the words out.

She had been patient, letting him take his time to write what he needed, and explain the situation.

She had left to talk to another doctor, visiting hours long since ended, but when the other doctor saw him, he had smiled and waved, and he overheard parts their conversation when the doctor mentioned something about Mori and his 'prodigy son'. 

He was granted an exception, the nurse behind the desk claiming it was due to the circumstances and leading him down the hall. 

At the entrance to the ward, she stopped, and turned to Dazai, speaking carefully.

"He's just along this hall, but I must warn you, he's not got long left. We've got him on as much medication as we can to make it comfortable, and he's exhausted, with any luck he'll pass as though he was falling asleep. But there is a chance he passes while you're visiting." She said, her voice soft, as though she was talking to a child.

Dazai swallowed and nodded numbly, biting on his lip, ripping the soft skin and tasting blood on the tip of his tongue.

The nurse then smiled sorrowfully and pointed out a room in the middle of the hall, patting his shoulder in a reassuring manner before leaving to return to the desk.

When Dazai was left alone in the almost empty corridor, the walls all white aside from the blue one on his right, he couldn't help but feel impossibly small, and powerless.

He could fix most things. Or at least he could try to. He had always been able to tell what was wrong, and offer solutions, he was built to be a problem solver, to be of use in all kinds of situations.

Yet he hadn't worked it out. He was told 'he's sick' and didn't dig further. He hadn't even tried. Now, he was being confronted with another problem he couldn't solve.

Like a computer system, he was failing. An execution error, buried deep in the code. Unfixable. The kind where it was easier to start over.

Each step he took towards the room felt heavier than the last, the dread welling in his chest as though the movement was making him motion sick. Finally, he pushed open the door, peaking through the gap into the dimly lit hospital room hesitantly.

Ango was sitting next to the bed, his hands clutched together and his head lowered as though he was in prayer. Ango's suit jacket had been discarded to the side, and his sleeves rolled up. Dazai could see the reddish purple marks on Ango's hands and inner arms, where Oda must have had blood taken from.

Oda seemed to be asleep, eyes closed peacefully, his hand holding onto Ango's arm.

When he heard the door creak, Ango's head shot up in surprise, and his eyes widened when he saw Dazai.

"Dazai? What are you doing here? Your da- Mori said you didn't want to see him." Ango asked quietly, tone confused. He sounded exhausted, like he hadn't slept for days. On closer inspection, he looked it too, dark circles under his eyes and pale cheeks.

Dazai just swallowed, slipping inside the uncomfortably spacious room and looking around awkwardly.

"I uh- I didn't know Oda was here until a little while ago. I came here straight away." He said quietly, his voice sounding scratchy and foreign.

Ango frowned, looking like he might ask another question when Oda stirred, and both of them had their full attention on him instead.

"Dazai?" Oda asked tiredly, blinking repeatedly as he made to sit up, being hastily stopped by Ango.

Dazai's breath caught at the sound of his name and he nodded, stepping closer.

Oda looked horrifically pale, and thinner than Dazai had ever seen him. It was almost like somebody had drained the colour out of him. To say he looked sick was an understatement. He looked dead already.

"What are you doing here?" Oda asked, and Dazai glanced at Ango.

"I wanted to see you." Dazai responded quietly, and Ango got up, bringing over a chair for Dazai to sit on, so Dazai was on one side of the bed and Ango was on the other.

Dazai sat awkwardly, his back and neck crawling, feeling distinctly uncomfortable with the open space behind him and his inability to see the door.

Oda chuckled slightly, the laugh turning into a weak cough, his heart rate spiking on the monitor.

"I am in no shape to be accepting visitors." Oda got out after his coughs died down, shaking his head. "You shouldn't be here."

Dazai scowled.

"But I am. I wanted to be." He responded defensively.

Oda just smiled, and took his hand, squeezing it. His hands were cold, colder than Dazai's, which Dazai would have probably made a joke about if it was another scenario.

"Why didn't you tell me you weren't going to get better?" Dazai asked, his voice going quiet again.

Ango looked away guiltily, and Oda sighed.

"I shouldn't have hid it." Is what Oda settled on saying after a moment. 

"But honestly, how do you think I would have told you? Deep down, I think you already knew Dazai. You just didn't want to believe it."

Dazai wanted to break down sobbing, because he know Oda was right. It wouldn't have changed anything if he had known. And in the back of his mind, he already had known. It had been evident in his avoidance in thinking about it, or in his lack of investigation into the topic. It had been evident in the way he had been constantly reminding himself, changing his thoughts from 'if Oda gets better' to 'when Oda gets better'. 

There had never been a when.

Dazai looked down at his hand in Oda's, and took a deep breath, steadying himself. He didn't want to have Oda spent their last moments together trying to get him to stop crying.

"Can we just pretend that nothing's going to happen? Just for a little while." Dazai found himself asking, feeling rather childish. 

Thankfully, Oda just smiled and nodded, and Ango looked relieved at the idea.

"...How's school been?" Oda ended up asking, and Dazai relaxed a little in his chair.

"School's been fine. I got in a fight. I have an in school suspension for the rest of the week, and library duty." Dazai explained, shrugging his shoulders. "I won, though, so it's fine." 

Oda laughed and Ango groaned, both unsurprised.

"Well at least you won. How's Chuuya been? Does he know your soulmates yet?" Oda asked next, tilting his head. Dazai raised an eyebrow and glanced at Ango questioningly, who seemed unsurprised by the question, whether that was because Oda had told him or because it was 'obvious' they would be soulmates, Dazai didn't know.

Dazai thought about answering for a second, hesitating and glancing at Ango again. He wanted to be able to tell Oda the truth. That he had fought with Chuuya again, that Chuuya had been adamant Dazai wasn't his soulmate. That Chuuya didn't like him. But at the same time, he didn't want Oda to be disappointed. 

Maybe, when he thinks back on this moment in the future, he might realise that it was his selfishness that made him not want to tell Oda the truth. That maybe, deep down, there was still a glimmer of hope that Chuuya might change his mind. Or maybe he just wanted to play pretend for a while.

Ango looked away, and then back, nodding, as though knowing what Dazai was thinking. As though encouraging him to lie.

"Chuuya's been fine. I saw him earlier today, I went to his house." Dazai paused, and bit his lip, thinking.

"Chuuya knows we're soulmates." He lied.

Oda bought into it, which made Dazai's heart ache. He had barely tried to hide the fact he was lying. It should have been obvious. But Oda was smiling and squeezing his hand again, so Dazai decided to be grateful for it.

"That's good, isn't it? How did he react?" Oda asked, sounding genuinely happy for him.

Dazai knew Ango knew he was lying. He could tell from the wince and the look of hurt and guilt that was on his face. It hurt, knowing Ango knew. It hurt, knowing Oda didn't. It hurt, knowing he was still going to lie anyway.

He hates lying. He does it anyway.

So, Dazai plastered a big smile on his face, and kept going.

"Honestly, he didn't take it well at first. He was very surprised, and didn't believe me. Then, in natural us fashion, he punched me a little too hard and suddenly we had matching bruises. Like you said would happen."

Oda nodded along, looking proud.

"But after he got over the shock, we sat down and talked it out, and well..." Dazai tactfully looked away, still smiling.

He's always been a good actor.

"Does that mean your dating him now?" Oda asked, and Dazai shrugged, not confirming or denying it. He wouldn't lie about that. At least, not outright.

Oda laughed, the sound strained and difficult, and he spoke again.

"It was about time you two got over yourselves. I'm happy for you, Dazai." Oda said earnestly, and Dazai just nodded, his throat closing up.

Oda smiled, reaching up to ruffle his hair, and Dazai didn't complain, leaning down slightly to make it easier and just letting it happen.

"I need you to promise me something." Oda stage whispered with a wide smile, beckoning Dazai closer.

Dazai leaned in closer, devastated when instead of the clean and slightly smoky smell he associated with Oda was instead replaced with the smell of everything else in this godforsaken place. 

Antiseptic and medicine.

He shook the thought away, listening to Oda speak instead.

"I'm going to need you to keep an eye on Ango for me. Make sure he doesn't do something stupid like buy a motorbike or drop out of school once I'm gone."

Dazai smiled despite himself, snickering slightly at Ango's offended sniff.

"I'm not going to drop out of school or buy a motorbike, don't you worry." Ango said haughtily, but Dazai could see the tears in his eyes. "You should be more worried about Dazai or his boyfriend doing that."

Oda laughed again, shaking his head.

"It might do Chuuya or Dazai some good. You have things you want to do. They have plenty more time." Oda said, looking at Ango pointedly, and Dazai felt sick at how they looked at each other. 

They both knew this was the last time they'd see each other.

Oda's words had sounded pretty final. 

"Oh, and Dazai." Oda said, as though he was forgetting something.

Dazai sat bolt upright, listening attentively as Oda turned to look at him again.

"I know Mori wants you to pursue medicine. Don't. Not unless you want too."

Dazai felt dumbstruck by the words, not expecting that. Oda had never shown much interest in his future career aside from a simple 'you'd be good at that' if he mentioned something. Why would Oda bring this up now?

"If you want to be a doctor, or a surgeon, or whatever, you would be amazing at it. But if you want to be a scientist, or a detective, or an artist, or a pirate for gods sake, then just do it. You could be anything you want to be. If you are going to do anything to try and honor me after I've gone, do what you want. Not what anyone else wants. What you want."

Dazai just stared at Oda with wide eyes, his mouth not cooperating with him, not allowing him to say what he wanted to say.

He wanted to agree, and he wanted to protest. He wanted to cry and tell Oda that he'd do whatever Oda wanted as long as he was there to see it.

He didn't want to have to do anything to honor Oda once he died. He wanted Oda to be alive. He didn't want him to die. It wasn't fair. None of this was. He wanted his big brother.

But he couldn't have his brother. Not forever. 

So he nodded numbly.

"Okay. I understand." He whispered.

The words had felt like sandpaper in his throat.

After a glance at Ango, and the look of distraught on his face, he let go of Oda's hand, stepping out into the empty hallway for a moment to let Oda speak to Ango alone. 

He wasn't sure what happened to people who's soulmates die. Do they just keep living? How could anyone just keep living after having their person taken away from them?

How do they want to keep living?

Do they just fall in love with someone else?

Maybe a part of their soul dies as well. So they have matching wounds, like the entire point of the marks in the first place.

His first thought was that there is something poetic about that. Then he reconsidered it. People are what make it poetic. Nothing about the idea itself is poetic. It's just sad.

He tore himself out of his thoughts to return to the room, peeking through the door he saw as Ango gently kiss Oda's forehead, their hands intertwined. 

He looked like he was falling asleep again. 

Dazai cautiously stepped into the room again, hesitant to disturb the peace. 

Ango didn't look up from where he was studying Oda's face. Dazai looked away as the warning from the nurse earlier flashed in his head. He didn't want to watch as Oda's breathing slowed.

Dazai instead looked out the window at the lights from the city, the defined shadows of buildings fading until they were black smudges on the horizon. 

There was an irregularity in the beeping of the heart monitor, which Dazai's practiced ear picked out a few seconds before Ango did, and within another few seconds it had started beeping more rapidly.

It only took a few seconds for there to be multiple nurses and the doctor from earlier in the room, and while Dazai would normally be able to pick out what they were doing, all he was looking at was the empty space beside the bed where the nurses were avoiding by force of habit, where there was a noticeable lack of a crash cart.

It only took a few more seconds for the repetitive beeping from the heart monitor to be replaced with a single steady tone, and Dazai barely had time to register what was happening before he was being ushered out the room by a nurse. 

Ango was out in the hallway seconds later, looking sick and on the verge of a breakdown.

Dazai just stared at the now closed door, where he had been standing a few seconds ago, his older brother still alive and just sleeping.

The tears that had been welling up and threatening to fall all evening had suddenly vanished, taking with them all capability of feeling anything other than tired and sick.

His head was pounding furiously, his vision swimming.

They say the brain remains active until seven minutes after the heart stops beating.

As far as Dazai is aware- that's not entirely accurate. While, yes, as a general rule, people die after seven minutes without oxygen to the brain, it can vary between person. And people can still be resuscitated until they're completely dead. As long as there is an adequate amount of brain function left, a manual restart of the heart and cpr will return oxygenated blood flow long enough for the body to start (hopefully) working on it's own again. 

Otherwise, should it be required for some reason, an oxygen machine and a pacemaker should be effective.

However the level of 'activity'... That's more limited. 

Permanent brain damage can come within a few minutes of a lack of oxygen, and neuron death can happen in as little as five. It depends from person to person, with different factors such as activity level, weight and cardiovascular health affecting the timescales. At any point after five minutes, brain damage can result in 'brain death', a term used to refer to when a persons brain functions so little that they can't do anything. They're comatose, with barely any function aside from breathing.

Dazai is unsure of the exact truth behind that statement, he frequently fills gaps in his knowledge with the answers he deems would make the most sense through patterns he recognises in information, but the last thing he wanted to do was look it up. 

However, he was able to watch as approximately six minutes after Oda's heart had stopped beating, the marks on Ango's hands and arms began to fade away.

He doesn't think he's ever seen someone cry so much.

Funnily enough, having poor cardiovascular health is actually a benefit in the eventuality that a persons heart stops beating, as the brain will likely survive for longer, more used to a lack of oxygen due to build up in the veins preventing fast blood flow. His brain unhelpfully supplied him with the knowledge that Oda likely hadn't stopped smoking after his cancer diagnosis, comparing the various bundles of his knowledge with the current situation.

The extra few months of smoking had probably prolonged his life by a minute.

He was stuck viewing the scene as though he was detached from it, taking in the events the way he always did- like information, clues for another puzzle to solve, for another problem that needs to be fixed.

Another learning experience.

After a while of waiting in the hallway, sitting on the uncomfortable metal chairs as Dazai desperately willed the brain fog to come back, for a different way to detch himself, a nurse came out to inform them they could go in and say their final goodbyes.

Dazai stayed firmly planted on the chair as Ango went in.

He wanted his last image of Oda in his mind to be the one of him peacefully falling asleep. He didn't want to see him now, knowing he'll never see him alive again.

Knowing that the entire time Oda was dying he was just thinking about how it was happening. That he didn't feel anything. That he couldn't.

Waiting for Ango, he briefly recognised a few nurses passing by and offering short condolences, one or two keeping half an eye on him as they went about their duties.

Dazai just stared at the floor, forcing his eyes to unfocus, allowing the brain fog back in, barely thinking as he just stared absently.

He didn't remember how much time passed, his brain fuzzier than it ever had been, but eventually Ango came back out, talking seriously with another person. Dazai didn't look up.

He vaguely registered being guided up and out of the hospital, and being handed a blanket when he curled up in the front passenger seat of Ango's car. 

The blanket smelled like Oda does. 

...Did.

Ango gave him a lift home, mentioning something about not wanting Dazai to get the bus alone right now, and they ended up stopping to buy hot chocolate on the way back to Mori's house.

The car ride was mostly silent, neither in the mood to talk, the only sound was Ango's occasional sharp inhale as he was trying not to cry any more.

Dazai thought he would have felt grateful if he could feel anything other than empty.

He didn't bother sneaking back inside the house when he was dropped off, leaving the blanket behind in the car, despite Ango's offer for him to keep ahold of it. He wouldn't get to keep it for long if he brought it in with him.

Dazai walked in through the front door without care for how loud or quiet he was, hating it when his habits forced him to be near silent, and unsurprised to see Mori sitting and waiting for him in the living room.

"I distinctly remember locking your door." Mori said with muted interest as Dazai stopped just inside the room.

Dazai nodded, staring at Mori tiredly, not blinking.

"You did." He muttered.

Mori tilted his head, smiling. It looked genuine. So genuine that Dazai didn't even consider it was real.

"Did you get to say goodbye?" Mori asked, standing up and walking over.

Dazai nodded again, unable to say anything.

Mori sighed, shaking his head as he stopped just in front of Dazai.

"Such a pity. Oda had great potential too. If he had just channeled his passion for writing elsewhere... Ah. Not that it matters now. Still."

Dazai felt sick listening to Mori talk about Oda like he had just been some experiment. A toy to play with. But he couldn't do anything about it. Nobody could.

"Now Dazai, we need to think of a consequence for you leaving so late and directly disobeying me." Mori said importantly, beginning to walk again, patting Dazai's shoulder as he walked behind him.

Dazai stayed extremely still, suppressing the flinch at the touch and resisting the urge to run the second Mori was out of his line of sight.

Mori thought for a moment, humming considerately, the silence suffocating Dazai. 

Then, with a wicked smirk screaming that this had been planned from the beginning, Mori spoke again, finishing his circle around Dazai and returning to the space in front of him.

"I suppose though, disobeying me like that is quite a bold thing to do. Such initiative, it should be rewarded, correct?"

Dazai shivered, uncomfortable and sick, the pit of emptiness in his stomach being replaced by dread.

Mori looked him up and down thoughtfully. 

"Is there anywhere on your body you can think of that won't bruise?" Mori asked, and Dazai didn't answer, assuming the question was a rhetorical one. 

Mori sighed in disappointment at the lack of response, instead reaching into his pocket. He was still wearing the suit he had been when Dazai left.

"Well then. A reward, for being brave enough to go against what I told you to do." Mori said after a moment, stepping forward and taking Dazai's hand.

Dazai opened his palm on instinct, and seconds later a shiny metal scalpel wrapped in a white handkerchief was placed in his hand.

Dazai stared down at it, his sense of shock being dulled by some hidden force, but he felt eyes widen and mouth go dry regardless.

"Pretty, isn't it?" Mori asked, smirking and tilting his head. "Sharp too." 

Mori walked behind him again, putting his hands firmly on his shoulders, and leaning to whisper in his ear.

"Wouldn't you like the chance to join your dearest older brother?" Mori continued, voice taunting.

Then Mori removed his hands from Dazai's shoulders.

Dazai was still staring at the scalpel, his grip on it tightening slightly. Like earlier, he didn't feel like he was in his body, that instead he was watching through another persons eyes.

Mori walked away, voice carrying through the house, the disinterest clear. 

"Try not to make a mess." 

Dazai turned the scalpel over in his hands. The sharp edge reflected in the light.

He wanted his older brother. 

Chapter Text

Chuuya stared unblinkingly at the message on his screen and his hurried response. 

MCKRL: goodnight darling, sleep well <3

His face burned as he sat in his bed, reading over the message again and again. 

goodnight darling, sleep well <3

...

fuck.

He's fucked. 

He has his first crush in months. 

He has a crush, and it's on his insufferable asshole of a best friend. 

His insufferable best friend- who isn't his soulmate.

Who doesn't like him. Who is helping him find his actual soulmate. 

His best friend- who is just teasing him. 

It took Chuuya longer than usual to fall asleep.

---

The first thing Chuuya felt when he woke up was pain. 

By now he was used to waking up with tingling arms and legs, and he had quickly stopped trying to keep track of the forest of injuries on his body, only taking note of the particularly severe ones. 

But this was different. 

It felt like the insides of his forearms were burning, or like there was air trapped under his skin. 

The long, deep blue lines up the inside of his arms were the most alarming things he'd seen in his life. 

He could feel the back of his head mildly throbbing, and the pain in his wrist from where he assumed his soulmate had sprained it was also there, but drowned out by the pain and irritation from the gashes along his forearm.

Usually there would be a little struggle for him to force himself out of the comfort of his bed, but it was like he had been woken up to a bucket of freezing water poured over his head. 

Only it was boiling water. And poured over his forearms. 

He sat bolt upright quickly, grabbing onto his own arms in an attempt to stop the pain, but he only had time to let out a strangled gasp of pain before it was dying down. 

It faded rapidly, the burning sensation ebbing into a itchy one, prickling up the entirety of his inner arms. 

Still, the memory of the pain lingered. A dull throbbing in the back of his skull. 

He didn't let himself think about it, throwing himself out of his bed and into his uniform, throwing on his hoodie like he had been every other day- still hiding the marks from his parents and siblings.

He didn't bother brushing his teeth, or grabbing anything to eat. He had (thankfully) prepared his lunch the night before, so he shoved it in his bag haphazardly as he rushed out the door, apologizing loudly when he barreled into Kouyou in the hallway. 

"Slow down jackass!" She shouted indignantly, but Chuuya was already out the front door. 

He stopped short as his eyes fell on the spot where Dazai normally waited for him.

It was empty.

He frowned and slowed down, slinging his bag over his shoulder as he walked the rest of the way, staring at the lamp post Dazai normally stood at as though it had personally offended him. 

After a moment, he pulled his phone out, checking the time. 

8:39

If anything, Chuuya was late. They normally got to school early to go and bother the library staff, or visit the few teachers that could stand them, or just hang out with their friends. 

School started at nine, so they'd get there at least ten minutes early, and they normally left at half past eight.

So he was late, and Dazai was even later apparently.

Behind him, his front door opened and Kyouka came out, her hair in a half up style, a ribbon tied in her hair. She stopped when she got to him, and looked puzzled.

"Dazai isn't here?" She asked, and Chuuya nodded. 

"Yeah... he didn't message me to say he was gonna be late either."

Kyouka hummed, then blinked, seeming to spot something over Chuuya's shoulder.

"That sucks." She said, and she promptly turned around to start walking to school herself.

Chuuya looked after her, slightly bewildered, taken aback.

Then he sensed a presence behind him, and he turned around, taking in the sight of an exhausted Dazai.

He looked like shit- paler than usual, dark eyebags and messy hair, like he had forced himself to even get out his bed that morning.

Still, Dazai put on the biggest smile possible and greeted him easily.

"Chuuya! Short as ever I see. I almost missed you standing there!" Dazai said teasingly. 

Chuuya frowned, to caught up with the sight of Dazai, who looked... off.

"I'm only 16. I'm still growing." He said absently, defaulting to his usual response, more focused on trying to figure out what was wrong.

Dazai didn't say anything about Chuuya's lack of enthusiasm, just beginning to walk and letting him fall into step beside him. 

Chuuya looked at the ground, kicking a rock as he walked. The sky was grey and overcast, a threat of rain on the horizon. 

He was caught up in his thoughts, raising a hand to his mouth to bite at his thumbnail while he thought.

Something was clearly wrong with Dazai. There was also something wrong with his soulmate. He honestly felt pretty shit himself, with his new realisation from the previous night...

one that he had forgotten about, and he felt his cheeks heat up as he promptly remembered about his unfortunate crush on the loser walking next to him.

seriously, of all people to like? he could have had a crush on Ranpo, or Kunikida, or generally anybody else and it just had to be Dazai???

His best friend since primary, the know-it-all who had taught him how to tie his shoelaces, the weirdo who hadn't had any clue who taylor swift was, the asshole who stole his t-shirts all the time, the kid who had calmly announced to Chuuya and his parents that he had a fractured elbow after being pushed off a slide.

Why. 

That was the only thing he could ask himself. Why. 

It was so stupid. And after everything he had always said about never wanting to have anything romantic with the mackerel bastard...

Fuck.

He was interrupted by Dazai taking his wrist and pulling his hand away from his mouth, having noticed Chuuya biting his nail. 

Dazai's hand then slid from his wrist to intertwine with his own, Chuuya's right hand in Dazai's left.

Chuuya's face went bright red at the contact. 

He groaned internally, furious with himself.

'You do this like every other day! Why the fuck are you making a big deal of it now?!'

He stole a quick glance at Dazai, who seemed unbothered.

Actually, Dazai didn't seem to be paying any attention to anything going on.

He was just looking at the ground with a far off look in his eyes, like he wasn't fully present. 

Again. 

This was getting far too common for Chuuya's liking. 

So, to try and bring Dazai back, he cleared his throat and squeezed Dazai's hand, feeling relieved when Dazai blinked and look over at him.

"Yeah?" Dazai asked, tilting his head like he hadn't just been practically in another universe. 

Chuuya swallowed, scraping his brain for a topic.

"There's new marks from my soulmate," was what he blurted out, internally cursing himself. 

That was not the topic he had wanted to talk about.

Dazai tensed up a little, and nodded.

"Describe them." Dazai said, sounding tired.

Chuuya felt guilty for bringing it up. Dazai clearly not in the mood to be talking about anything, nevermind something like this.

Chuuya took a deep breath anyway, squashing his guilt and thinking back to what he had seen that morning. 

"Long. Deep, I think. The most noticeable were two, right up the middle of my inner arm. I didn't check anywhere else. It had really hurt when I woke up. It doesn't hurt anymore, thankfully." 

That was a lie. His arms still hurt, a dull throbbing present. Though, it wasn't quite painful, if he thought about it. Just uncomfortable. He didn't know how else to describe it however.

Dazai looked away, seemingly interested in the displays in the windows of the shops they passed.

"Attempted suicide." Dazai said, tone carefully blank.

Instantly Chuuya felt sick. Like he might throw up at any second.

"...Attempted?" He asked quietly. 

Dazai just nodded, returning to look at the ground. 

Chuuya wanted to prod, to ask how he knew, how he was certain it didn't work, what he should do now. 

Maybe now was the point where he should tell more adults. 

This was bad.

Suicide?

... how was he supposed to deal with that?

Though... if telling an adult would do anything, Mr Fukuzawa would have fixed it.

Telling an adult would just worry them.

"Oh." Was all Chuuya said after that, and they continued the rest of the walk to school in silence.

---

Throughout the day, Chuuya could have sworn Dazai was getting increasingly agitated and distant, even small accidents that Dazai normally wouldn't care about getting to him. 

Of course, Chuuya was also fairly pissed off. His arms hurt, he was worried for his soulmate, he was tired, and on top of everything Dazai was acting weird.

But Dazai was worse, and Dazai continued to get worse.

The first time he noticed something was wrong was when Dazai's favourite spot in the corner of the library was occupied when they got there in the morning. 

Dazai hadn't said anything, only turning away and dragging Chuuya outside over to their usual lunch spot.

The next time he had noticed it was at the end of their second period class, when after spacing out for the entirety of the first two lessons, they had been packing up their stuff and someone threw a piece of paper across the classroom. 

It had not been intended to hit Dazai, but it did anyway, and Dazai seemed unreasonably upset, and threw it back twice as hard.

Obviously it was paper, so it barely hurt the kid he threw it at, but that teacher already had a grudge against Dazai for some reason, and only Dazai got told off. Chuuya had stood waiting outside the classroom while Dazai got told off once the class had ended, and Dazai hadn't even looked at him before storming off.

They had spent break in a music room, and Dazai had pressed himself firmly into Chuuya's side with his eyes closed and headphones on, while Chuuya tried not to die or overheat from embarrassment. 

After break, during third period Dazai had accidentally knocked over a water pot on one of the smaller sketches for his art portfolio. He had hit the table in frustration, and Chuuya had been able to see the tears in his eyes from the opposite side of the table.

Hitting the table had only made it worse, the spilt water dripping off the edge of the table onto the legs of Dazai's trousers, and Dazai had looked about two seconds away from throwing himself off of a roof.

A few minutes into fourth period and Dazai's headphones died, and he had just dropped them on the table with a loud bang, covered his ears and put his head on his knees, ignoring the entire class.

Their P.E class had gotten switched last minute to be fifth period that day, and Dazai, who had been looking forward to the opportunity to lock himself in an empty practice room and charge his headphones during music, seemed genuinely distraught.

As a result of the class being changed last minute, nobody had their change of clothes so everyone was in their uniform, and Dazai had been told off for not removing his hoodie, been forced too, and despite his (by this point, rather desperate) pleas to be exempt and sit at the side, if not leave, he was forced to participate. 

While participating in dodgeball, a game Dazai was generally really good at, he got hit with multiple balls, refused to lift his arms to even attempt to catch any, and seemed to be in extreme pain any time someone bumped into the side or his arms. 

Eventually, when Dazai had made it beyond clear he wasn't going to participate, and he had sent his hundredth dirty look at the P.E teacher, he had been allowed to leave for lunch early, and Chuuya had got to go with him.

What was truly confusing though, was the total 360 switch Dazai had made the second that their friends had started trickling in to the library, taking their seats on the floor in the corner that they were quite comfortably inhabiting. 

Dazai's headphones had been given to Kunikida, who had a charger and a battery pack, and while Dazai had spent the extra few minutes before lunch properly started practically hiding behind Chuuya, he was now talking animatedly, waving his hands around.

Chuuya was half asleep, but still watching with amusement, listening to Dazai boast about his 'athletic capabilities'.

"And while I was in P.E today... you should have seen it! Dodging left and right, not getting hit once! Apart from when I wanted too, of course. Have to make it fair somehow." Dazai said proudly, eliciting a few 'oooohs' from Atsushi and Akutagawa, who were listening eagerly.

Chuuya raised an eyebrow, squinting at Dazai. That was very obviously not what had happened, quite the opposite actually, but he didn't speak up, letting Dazai lie until his heart was content.

Chuuya had already eaten his lunch, the box empty aside from the food he had packed for Dazai, which had been turned down quickly. 

With the current state Dazai was in, the last thing Chuuya was going to do was pressure him to eat if he said he didn't want too.

His lunchbox was still open and in front of him however, and as Dazai continued his exaggerated boasts and storytelling, Kunikida looked up from where he was talking with Yosano, their conversation hushed and rather giggly. 

When Kunikida noticed the untouched sandwich in the box, it barely took his any time to realise who the sandwich was supposed to belong too.

"Dazai? Have you eaten?" Kunikida asked, and Chuuya sat up slightly straighter, prepared to explain to Kunikida, to say it was okay, that he'd try and convince Dazai to eat later, that it had been a bad day and pushing Dazai to eat might not help.

Dazai answered instead, waving his hand dismissively, but there was a tension to his shoulders that he had dropped temporarily.

"I'm not hungry." 

Dazai stood up quickly after that, talking loudly.

"You'll never guess what one of the members of the theatre department taught me to do! Juggle!" He said, and instantly two apples and an orange were being shoved into his hands, the apples from Ranpo and Akutagawa, and the orange from Atsushi.

Chuuya groaned and rolled his eyes, but he looked up at Dazai standing in the centre of the circle they were all sat in as Dazai accepted the fruits gratefully.

"Thank you, kind sirs. Thank you." Dazai said with an exaggerated bow, straightening up again and clearing his throat.

"To my dearest Nikolai from the drama department, you're a real one. I hope you can sense this message, from wherever you are now," Dazai continued, closing his eyes and putting on a sorrowful expression.

Chuuya scoffed and rolled his eyes. He had suspected it was Nikolai, the kid who dressed like a clown half the time and hung around the smart russian kid who fainted at least once every summer. Knowing Nikolai, he was probably making out with said russian kid in the back of the auditorium somewhere. And he probably could sense every time someone started juggling in the nearby vicinity. 

What was Dazai doing calling Nikolai 'dearest' anyway? Surely they weren't that good friends. Nikolai has a boyfriend.

Unimpeded by the unintentional glare Chuuya was sending in his direction, Dazai threw the first apple into the air, and quickly followed it up with the orange, and then the other apple, actually managing to juggle the fruit, even if he was a little shaky.

Ranpo was laughing his ass off and recording, while Atsushi and Akutagawa were watching with wide eyes. 

The way those two idolised Dazai was actually kind of depressing. 

Chuuya, though he wouldn't admit it, was actually kind of impressed. That must have taken a while to learn. It took a lot of concentration, probably. Lots of practice, and patience. 

Dazai was really talented. And pretty. Even though it was pouring down with rain outside, the grey light coming through the window was making him look stunning. His eyes were wide as he focused on the makeshift balls he was throwing, and his mouth was slightly open, his lips red from being bitten all day-

When he felt his cheeks redden slightly as the thought, he made the split second decision to create a distraction, and he suddenly pushed himself forward, slapping Dazai as hard as he could on the ass, causing him to yelp in surprise and jump about a foot in the air.

Instantly, Chuuya started cackling, and Ranpo, who had been laughing already and managed to catch it on camera, started to laugh even harder.

Dazai panicked and scrambled to catch the fruits, falling to the floor clumsily, somehow managing to catch the dropped fruits, but ending up laying on his back on the floor and panting.

How the hell did Chuuya ever think he had a crush on this dumbass?

Jesus christ, he needs to get his brain checked, because this is just embarrassing. 

After a moment, Dazai sat bolt upright, his face bright red.

"Chuuya!" He shouted accusingly, his eyes trained on Chuuya, who was laughing so hard he couldn't breathe properly.

"That- That was incredible! You should have seen your face!" Chuuya wheezed out, wiping tears from his eyes. 

At the sight of Chuuya laughing so hard, Dazai was fighting back his own smile, trying to look pissed off. 

Anger or irritation was not an expression Chuuya was used to seeing on Dazai's face, and that just made it even funnier, but he forced himself to take a deep breath, his cheeks hurting from smiling.

"Did that scare you?" Chuuya asked, trying to stifle his laughs.

Dazai, who was giving the fruit back to their rightful owners, wrinkled his nose.

"No. I just wasn't expecting to have my ass assaulted while I was in school- while juggling, no less." Dazai said haughtily, moving back to where he had been sitting next to Chuuya.

While they had just been laughing and joking, it was like a switch had flipped and suddenly Dazai looked exhausted again, trying to joke and hide it while leaning on Chuuya's shoulder.

Chuuya sighed and shook his head, calming himself down, trying to remind himself that Dazai was clearly not doing great. It had been funny, but Dazai was clearly overwhelmed.

"That reaction was priceless." Chuuya just muttered quietly, and Dazai huffed, crossing his arms.

Dazai apparently then decided that the most reasonable thing to do was sprawl out across Chuuya as much as he could, laying across his legs and grabbing Chuuya's arm, waving it about.

Chuuya sighed again, just letting Dazai move his arm how he wanted, wishing not for the first time that day that he could go back home and sleep for an eternity.

Chuuya relaxed and leaned back against a bookcase, taking a moment to just breathe.

It was peaceful for a moment, but of course, nothing could stay that way.

The next few events, Chuuya could probably have predicted. What he couldn't have predicted, was the reaction they caused.

First, Kunikida tried asking Dazai about his food again. 

"Dazai, now that your talent show is over, you should really eat something." Kunikida said, looking slightly concerned.

Dazai had tensed up, and gotten defensive. 

"I'm not hungry, Kunikida. I don't want to eat." He said, not moving from his place draped over Chuuya's lap. 

Kunikida had been about to respond when someone on the other side of the bookcase Chuuya and Dazai were sitting next to got knocked into it. 

As a result, when the person tried to catch themself they knocked a bunch of books off one of the shelves above Chuuya and Dazai's heads. 

So a cascade of books fell around them, hitting the top of Chuuya's head, and the back of Dazai's. 

Chuuya had felt instant pain where one of the books had hit him, followed quickly with another pain radiating across the back of his skull where another book must have hit him somehow. 

Dazai had gasped and almost screamed, surprised and hurt by the sudden pain, his hand going straight to the back of his head to protect it. 

Chuuya's response was to get angry, forgetting Dazai- who had moved off of him by now- and standing up to yell at the people who had caused the books to fall on them. 

His shouting drew the attention of multiple people, who stood around, watching like it was a tv show. 

The next thing he knew, it wasn't him shouting anymore. 

"Shut the fuck up!" Dazai screamed from where he sat on the floor. 

Dazai, who was still holding onto the back of his head, so covering one ear with his free hand, and trying in vain to cover the other with his arm. 

Dazai, who looked two seconds away from bursting into tears like a small child.

"It's too loud!" He continued, and Ranpo, who had also covered his ears, nodded in agreement. 

Chuuya felt bad instantly, but quickly Yosano picked up the slack, and started to encourage everyone up.

"Let's go see if the art room is empty. It'll be quieter there, and nobody will get attacked by books." She said, so everyone began to grab their things as the atmosphere in the library shifted back the way it was, just slightly more tension in the air. 

Dazai hadn't moved his hand from his head, and Kunikida, who unfortunately seemed to always have the best intentions at the worst of times, had kneeled down next to him and put a hand on his shoulder to ask what was wrong. 

Dazai had slapped the hand away, snapping.

"Don't touch me." Dazai hissed, clearly upset, more than most of them had seen. 

When slapping Kunikida's hand away, Dazai had moved the hand from his head, revealing the blood on his palm, which had come from his head. 

Chuuya wasn't the only one who noticed, and Yosano moved forward quickly, mostly ignoring the slightly hurt looking Kunikida. 

"Dazai! Your head! I didn't think the books would have been enough to make you bleed! We need to go to the nurses office." Yosano decided quickly, but Dazai shook his head, blinking rapidly and wiping his eyes.

"No! I'm fine- Just-" Dazai said, reaching to grab his bag as he stood up. 

Then, the straw that broke the camels back. 

Or, the event that broke Dazai's facade.

When Dazai grabbed his bag -the same brown messenger bag he'd been using since first year, that had been his older brother's before it had been his- the strap broke, and he dropped the bag in surprise, his stuff spilling out over the floor. 

It was silent for a few seconds, everyone watching Dazai as he just stared at the bag on the floor, and at the jotters that had fallen out, pencils and random pieces of paper he had drawn on all over the floor.

It seemed to take Dazai a few seconds to process what had happened.

When he did, Chuuya could see the change in his demeanour. 

Instead of shutting down like he would normally do, instead of getting upset or crying like a normal 15 year old might do- Dazai got angry. 

"Fuck this shit!" Dazai shouted, throwing his hands in the air. 

Dazai was a lot of things. He got annoyed. He got bitter. Of course he did. 

He never got angry. 

There was stunned silence for a few seconds longer, and then, quiet enough that only Chuuya was able to pick it out, there was the first shaky breath. 

And then Dazai abandoned his bag, making a break for it and pushing past Atsushi, heading for the library exit.

Chuuya wasted no time, quickly following, trusting that someone else would gather up Dazai's stuff and keep an eye on his.

Nobody protested them leaving, or followed. 

Chuuya followed Dazai all the way from the library to, of course, the bathroom on the top floor.

It was empty as usual when Dazai flung open the door, and Chuuya watched as Dazai just started pacing the length of the room, shaking his hands out next to him.

It had been years since Chuuya had seen Dazai in a state like this, so overwhelmed and upset that he seemed to just... stop working. 

The same thing happened to him sometimes, and there was nothing he knew to help. He didn't have any use here. There was nothing he could do. He could only watch in dread as Dazai continued pacing, his breathing fast and erratic.

Dazai's shaky breath was interrupted with a sob, and Chuuya realised with horror that Dazai was crying.

One sob became two, and then it seemed uncontrollable, and Dazai stopped pacing, just bringing his hands the his face and smearing blood and tears across his face as he just stood sobbing in the middle of the mostly empty bathroom, his crying echoing off the walls. 

Chuuya stood and stared, eyes wide as he stayed rooted to the ground, terrified. 

He didn't know what to do.

Dazai was infallible.

Nothing upset Dazai. He was fine. He was perfect. He was smart and happy and funny, and he had weird moments and wouldn't eat sometimes and made awkward comments about things that made certain alarm bells ring- but nothing upsets him.

He doesn't cry. At least, not sickening, gut wrenching sobbing, like he's doing now. Sure, he cries dramatically when Chuuya's eaten the last of the strawberry flavoured sweets, or during titanic, or stupid rom coms. 

This isn't right.

What was he supposed to do? There should be a rulebook, or a guideline, because Dazai's still crying, and Dazai obviously knows Chuuya's there because he left the door to close on it's own and Chuuya hadn't been discreet in the way he was walking hurriedly behind him.

Then Dazai moved, and leaned against a wall, slumping down to sit on the floor and pulling his knees into his chest, crossing his arms and burying his face in them, his crying now muffled. 

Hesitantly, unsure that he should be doing, Chuuya walked over and sat down next to Dazai, mirroring his position, just sitting next to him quietly. 

After a few moments of the only sound being Dazai's continued crying, Dazai moved, and Chuuya opened his arms, letting Dazai move to practically be sitting on him, Dazai's face awkwardly pressed against Chuuya's chest. 

As he did so, Chuuya got a weird sense of deja vu. Like something similar had happened, only their roles had been reversed. He couldn't remember it exactly, but he was sure he could remember something similar, new years eve in a cold and snowy winter.

Chuuya just held Dazai tightly, not caring as Dazai's tears soaked through his school shirt, or about the way Dazai was shaking violently.

He sat there for a few minutes, until Dazai wasn't crying quite the way he had been before, just sniffling and taking shaky breath occasionally.

"...Do you wanna talk about it?" Chuuya asked cautiously, trying to keep his voice quiet.

Dazai shook his head instantly, but stayed pressed into Chuuya. 

Chuuya took a deep breath, closing his eyes. 

He was so confused and upset. So much was happening, all the time. He didn't know how to process any of it. 

Apparently, neither did Dazai. 

After a moment, Chuuya let go of Dazai, and Dazai sat up, leaning back against the wall again and breathing slowly, avoiding looking at Chuuya. 

Chuuya stood up and got a few paper towels, lightly wetting them, and he sat in front of Dazai. 

Carefully, he wiped Dazai's tears away with his thumbs, feeling Dazai's cold skin below his warm hands, looking at the contrast between his flushed cheeks and pale face, at his bleeding lip from being bitten too hard, at his tired and watery eyes, and the hair falling everywhere across his face. 

He then took the paper towel and wiped the dried blood Dazai had managed to smear over his right cheek when trying to wipe his own tears, being careful and mindful of not getting his face too wet. 

He wasn't used to this, trying to be so careful, purposely choosing to be soft with his movements, making an effort not to alarm or overwhelm someone. 

It was oddly nice, trying to care for someone. If it was anyone other than Dazai, in all honesty, he wouldn't be trying this hard. Maybe if it was one of his sisters.

Once the blood was gone from Dazai's cheek, he brought the paper towel to Dazai's lips, finding a clean corner and grazing it over where Dazai's lip was bleeding from. 

Without realising, the thumb from his other hand had migrated to sit just below the corner of Dazai's mouth.

He swallowed thickly, his face warm as he looked at Dazai's lips.

He had already realised his 'revelation' the night before had been a fluke. He definitely didn't like the dumbass who started juggling in the middle of a library.

But... surely... 

He'd only kissed a few guys before. Even if he didn't like Dazai, it was probably normal to think about kissing him. 

Totally normal. 

He brushed his thumb against the bottom of Dazai's lips. They felt surprisingly soft to the touch.

Dazai parted them, and Chuuya looked up to meet his gaze, realising Dazai had been watching him the entire time.

He quickly cleared his throat and looked back at the cut on Dazai's lip, wiping away the last of the blood.

Cuts on the lips healed quickly. It'd stop bleeding soon.

Chuuya then pulled away, standing up.

"Turn around." He instructed, his voice sounding oddly hoarse. "Let me see your head."

Dazai tensed up but obliged, turning so Chuuya could see the back of his head.

By now it had stopped bleeding, but there was blood clumped in the roots of Dazai's hair, and he wasn't going to let Dazai walk around for the rest if the day like that.

So Chuuya took the other paper towel, and gently began cleaning the cut, the dried blood coming away easily. 

Coincidentally, the cut seemed to be in the same place Chuuya's head had been hurting the past few days. 

As Chuuya inspected the cut, he frowned. That didn't look like it was caused by a book. 

It looked like it had already been there, and reopened.

"...Dazai?" Chuuya asked cautiously, and Dazai moved his head as a way to urge Chuuya to continue, seemingly not very keen on speaking.

"What happened to your head? There's no way this was caused by a book." Chuuya said, almost done cleaning away the blood, but lingering as he waited for an answer.

It took Dazai a moment to respond, whether because he was thinking or because he was struggling to speak, Chuuya didn't know.

"I fell off my bed. Hit it off the bottom drawer next to my bed." Dazai responded quietly, picking at his bandages poking out the sleeve of his hoodie.

Chuuya didn't respond, just looking at the wound.

He felt uncomfortable, something in his gut telling him something that he recognised, and only now could put into words.

He didn't believe Dazai.

He was lying. 

Why, Chuuya didn't know. But something was wrong, and he was sure of it. He felt goosebumps on his skin as he finished cleaning the blood. 

Maybe he was wrong. He hoped he was wrong. 

Chuuya wasn't investigative. He was curious, and he was nosy, but he didn't go digging for things unless Dazai was by his side. 

How was he supposed to figure out what was going on. More importantly, maybe he was as oblivious as Ranpo had said he was.

Dazai was quick to get up when Chuuya went to go put the paper towels in the bin. 

Chuuya watched as Dazai took a breath and messed up his hair from the way Chuuya had parted it to clean it, and he rubbed his eyes.

He looked like he had done this a thousand times.

"Right. We need to track down where the rest of your little 'detective agency' went." Dazai said, looking at himself in the mirror and washing the last of the blood from his hands. 

Chuuya raised an eyebrow at the way Dazai referred to his friends as Chuuya's. They had been Dazai's first. 

He was also slightly surprised by the sudden turn around, but he didn't comment on it, just nodding.

"Alright." He agreed, nodding. 

Dazai sighed dramatically, and they left the bathroom.

"God, I look horrifying now! I look like I was crying! That's so stupid." Dazai whined as they began walking. 

"My glasses are in my bag, I'll have to put them on that way I don't look quite as... ugly." Dazai said with a wrinkled nose.

Chuuya wanted to disagree, say that Dazai looked perfectly fine, if not extremely pretty, but he didn't. Instead, the glasses comment caught his attention.

"Your glasses? I thought you didn't need those anymore?" 

Dazai had gotten glasses a few years ago, something about 'severe vision impairment in his right eye', but Dazai rarely wore his glasses after a year. 

Chuuya never sees him in them nowadays.

"I do, but they're boring and make the colours duller." Dazai said dismissively, waving his hand. 

"They make colours dimmer?" Chuuya asked dryly. He couldn't believe that was why Dazai wouldn't wear them.

"And if I wore my glasses my main Kunikida insult would be gone! I'd be insulting myself!" Dazai wailed dramatically.

Chuuya scoffed as they entered the home economics corridor. 

"That's hardly a reason. You look good with your glasses on." 

Dazai stopped in his tracks. Chuuya kept walking, speeding up as his face burned. 

He did not think Dazai was attractive, he did not think Dazai was attractive, he did not think Dazai was attractive!

He slowed to a stop and spared a glance back at Dazai, who's cheeks were flushed and his mouth was slightly open. 

Okay, maybe Dazai was a little attractive. He can appreciate a man's objective attractiveness without being attracted to him.

"...Chuuya thinks I'm pretty?" Dazai said slowly, a grin creeping onto his face. 

"I did not say that!" Chuuya protested, his face red.

"I said I liked your glasses, not that you're pretty!" 

Dazai practically skipped along to Chuuya.

"Yeah you did! You said I look good with my glasses on!" 

"That doesn't equate to pretty!" 

"Yes it doesss!" 

"No it doesn't!" 

"You were thinking it!" 

Somehow Chuuya ended up with a fist in the front of Dazai's jumper, pulling him down to glare at him, wanting to wipe that smug expression off his face.

And maybe...

Their bickering was interrupted by Atsushi.

"I thought I heard you guys!" Atsushi said happily, though he stopped abruptly when he saw how close Chuuya and Dazai were to each other.

"...Am I interrupting something?" He asked, backing away.

Chuuya and Dazai exchanged glances.

"No." Chuuya said firmly.

"Yes." Dazai said smugly. 

Chuuya yanked Dazai again, and Dazai just grinned, hands in his pockets as he prepared to say something. 

"We're in this classroom here!" Atsushi said quickly, sounding almost scared, like he thought they might started trying to kill each other in the corridor.

Begrudgingly, Chuuya let go of Dazai, waiting for Dazai to walk ahead of him before he took a deep breath, trying to calm his racing heart. 

Last night's realisation was a fluke. 

He. does. not. like. Dazai.

Then, he followed Dazai into the room, blinking in surprise.

Dazai was standing and staring at his bag, sitting on one of the tables, the strap fixed, sewn back on where it had come off.

Yosano smiled and cleared her throat.

"Kunikida can sew, apparently. And I know how to do stitches... Kunikida sewed the side that came off, and I fixed the stitching on the other side where the same problem was going to end up happening." 

Chuuya stepped forward, so he could see the bag for himself.

It was clear which side had been done by Kunikida, neat and pretty stitches attaching the strap back in place. Next to it, where Kunikida must have finished, there was a basic, single star that he must have added.

The stitches on the other side were slightly less even and messy, but they were still practiced, and looked strong. They didn't go all the way across, just where the strap had been fraying. 

"I was the one who put all your stuff back where it was!" Ranpo called from a few seats away. 

"I found the supplies." Akutagawa said, looking for acknowledgement for his part to play in the repair. 

"I was the one who got permission to use them!" Atsushi chimed in.

Dazai was very quiet. He reached into his bag, finding his glasses and putting them on. Then he turned back to Chuuya, trying to discreetly wipe his eyes, like he had been about to cry again. 

"Thank you." Dazai said quietly, just loud enough to be heard.

Chuuya felt like his heart might shatter. 

He wondered if Dazai seemed to realise how much everyone in the room loved him. 

'Your "detective agency"' Dazai had called it, in reference to them being Chuuya's friends. As though they weren't his own.

Chuuya wished he could hammer it into Dazai's skull how appreciated he was. 

With a sudden switch of energy, Dazai turned back to the room.

"I have no idea how you wear glasses all the time Kunikida! I can actually see things, and let me tell you- I am horrified!"

Chuuya rolled his eyes, and smiled. 

---

Walking home from school was usually rather boring. 

It was headphones on, hand in hand, both trying not to fall asleep on their feet, or preparing for some daring adventure they'd planned.

Daring adventures had been less frequent recently, exams and weather making it challenging, but Chuuya didn't mind it as much as he thought he would have. 

Sharing earbuds while listening to taylor swift on the walk home, the rain coming down gently, and the hands firmly locked together, he didn't mind that they wouldn't go and do something crazy or stupid. 

He was actually in favour of getting home and having a long nap. He's sure Dazai wouldn't mind.

As they got home, Chuuya went to walk to the door, and Dazai dropped his hand.

Chuuya stopped, blinking and looking down.

Dazai handed the earbud back.

"I'm going back to Mori's house." Dazai said, a smile smile on his face.

Chuuya frowned, and felt slightly sick.

"You... always come over after school, especially on Fridays. Are you coming tomorrow?" He asked instead.

Dazai cleared his throat, and he looked away, rocking back and forth on his feet.

"No, actually. I... Mori's taking me to a medical conference thing. To prepare me for when I go to uni, and to 'make connections in the medical field', he said." Dazai explained, looking back at Chuuya.

Chuuya just nodded. He wasn't sure what to say. 

"Where is it?" He ended up asking, oblivious to his older sister standing in the doorway.

"I'm not sure, I didn't pay much attention. We have to travel for quite a while to get there, though." Dazai said, sighing.

"When will you be back?" Chuuya asked, surprised by the emotion in his own voice.

"I should be back on Monday. I'll be at school. I promise." Dazai said, nodding his head.

Chuuya just looked at Dazai, his eyebrows furrowed.

This was the first Dazai had mentioned this medical thing. Though... they did have their fall out. It might have been decided during then? Or maybe Dazai had been hoping to get out of going somehow. 

"Okay." Chuuya said, nodding back. His throat felt tight. 

It was barely three days. Friday evening, Saturday, Sunday, and he'll be back Monday morning. That's barely any time at all. 

"Chuuya! It's raining, get inside!" Kouyou called, and Chuuya's dad appeared behind her.

"You'll catch a cold! Oh hey Dazai!" Chuuya's Dad chimed in with a wave. 

Dazai waved back with a smile. 

Chuuya was going to roll his eyes and make a joke about his parents liking Dazai as much as they liked their own children, when he realised something.

"Are you walking home?" Chuuya asked, feeling it as the rain picked up again and was seeping through his hoodie. 

Dazai nodded.

"How else would I get home? Mori's working."

"And Oda lives in another city..." Chuuya added, sighing. 

Dazai winced, but Chuuya didn't notice, instead frowning.

"Do you even have a raincoat?" Chuuya asked. He didn't think he'd seen Dazai wear a waterproof jacket for... years.

Dazai shook his head, crossing his arms, looking a little uncomfortable.

Of course he'd be uncomfortable. It was wet, cold and Dazai's bandages were going to end up soaked right against his skin. 

Surely that was the last thing Dazai needed after the day he'd had. 

"Wait here." Chuuya demanded. 

He turned and ran into the house, running through the house and up the stairs without taking his shoes off.

"Oi! Shoes!" Chuuya's mum shouted from the kitchen, but Chuuya was already in his room. 

He threw his bag down and turned the light on, going to his wardrobe. 

Kneeling down to the bottom, he rifled through the pike of hoodies and jackets he had.

He found what he was looking for quickly, a black waterproof jacket that he had gotten during the winter that ended up being too big for him.

With it fell out a hoodie in a similar brown to Dazai's back, another piece of clothing too big for him. 

Making a split second decision, Chuuya grabbed the jumper as well, and he raced back down the stairs.

He found Dazai standing in the kitchen with Kouyou roughly attacking Dazai's drenched hair with a towel, because of course Dazai had been walking with his hood down for most of the walk, and by the time he put it up it was too late.

"Careful, his head is hurt." Chuuya warned, slipping his shoes off sheepishly as his mother glared at him from across the kitchen.

Kouyou's eyes narrowed instantly. 

"Excuse me?" She asked, and Dazai spoke hurriedly.

"It's nothing, it had healed fine but a book fell on my head today and it reopened, it's nothing to worry about." Dazai explained, smiling and then yelping when Kouyou sighed in annoyance and then continued her attack on Dazai's wet hair, albeit gentler than before.

Chuuya's dad frowned from where he was helping his mum cook. 

"If you got hit on the head and managed to reopen a wound with the force, you probably shouldn't be walking home. Especially not in this weather." 

Dazai shrugged, and Kouyou left the towel on Dazai's head as she seemed to decide that now Chuuya was here is was his job to fuss over Dazai. 

"I've walked in worse." Dazai said, but he gladly took the clothes from Chuuya, pulling the towel of his head and throwing it at Chuuya.

"That's not the point." Chuuya responded, catching the towel and then crossing his arms, watching as Dazai took off his wet hoodie and put the brown one on instead. 

Dazai stuck his tongue out at Chuuya childishly, and pulled on the jacket. 

"I'll be fine. I have my phone, so if there's any problems I can call." Dazai said, tilting his head and smiling. 

"I like walking. It'll be okay." 

Nobody seemed particularly happy about it, but Chuuya agreed hesitantly.

"Okay then. Just message me when you get home, yeah?" 

Dazai nodded, sticking out two thumbs up.

"Whatever you say boss!" He said, grinning. Then he lowered his voice, stage whispering.

"Did you like my impression of you? You would say something like that. Loooser!" Dazai then smiled, and picked his bag up from where he had put it down. 

"Byee!" Dazai said, waving and leaving the house before Chuuya could even argue. 

Dazai had left his damp jumper sitting over the back of a chair, and Chuuya sighed, picking it up and draping it over a radiator to dry. 

As he stood in the kitchen, looking at the towel in his hands Dazai had thrown at him, he frowned. 

Dazai had been all over the place today. 

He felt bad, standing in his happy, warm and safe kitchen, while Dazai was walking home in the cold and rain. 

As he stared at the towel, a memory flashed to the front of his mind. 

'One of my friends lives on Dazai's street. There's a little rumour that his Dad hits him. She caught it through a window apparently...his dad hates him, and his mum left him.'

...

Something uncomfortable and heavy took root in his chest.

That wasn't true. It couldn't be. It wasn't. 

But... what had happened to Dazai's mum?

Did Dazai even know?

...Why had he not been to Dazai's house in so long?

He had thousands of questions, and no answers. 

This felt so stupid. It all started with wanting to find his soulmate, wanting to know who was supposed to know him best. 

Which seems impossible. Nobody could know him better than Dazai. 

But now he had so many other problems. And he didn't know where to start. 

He thoughts were interrupted by his mum putting a hand on his shoulder.

"You worry about that boy too much. He'll be fine." She said, giving Chuuya a hug and kissing the top of his head. 

Chuuya smiled a little, extremely thankful for his mum. He doesn't know what he'd do if he didn't have his mother, or his father. He never actually considered how Dazai must feel watching him interact with his parents when his own... weren't there. 

Still, Chuuya nodded, and sighed. 

"Yeah. He'll be fine." Chuuya agreed quietly, wishing he believed it.

Chapter Text

It was stuffy, and far too bright. 

There was noise everywhere, and the solid wall against his back was the only thing convincing Dazai not to make a break for the door.

That, and the vaguely threatening hand on his shoulder. 

"And it was your son who did these?" An excited med student asked, pointing at a few different diagrams depicting various surgical procedures in basic terms.

"Indeed. He's talented, he has an eye for these things." Mori said, the praise sounding genuine to all ears but Dazai's. 

What Dazai heard was 'He should be working harder, not a scrap of this is talent. He needs to study more.'

But Mori's smile was the proudest Dazai had ever seen it, and despite knowing there was no truth behind it, he straightened up, smiling politely, resenting the surge of happiness at the look of pride.

There were murmurs of appreciation as the drawings were poured over, hygiene and stitching hand drawn with labelled instructions.

An older doctor, one who seemed to know Mori, nodded approvingly.

"Your boy is good for his age. Still has a long way to go before he gets into a med school though." He said with a laugh, and Mori nodded in agreement.

"Of course. He's working hard though, aren't you Osamu?" Mori said, and the hand on his shoulder tightened its grip slightly.

Dazai had wilted at the previous comment, but he straightened up again, nodding and smiling.

"I'm dedicated. I'd like to think I'm good at what I know, and am getting better at the stuff I don't." 

There were some laughs and the group moved on with the conversation, letting Dazai sit forgotten at Mori's side.

'Good for his age'

That one's going to stick.

---

Unsurprisingly, being at home alone all weekend when you normally had an on call entertainment service was kind of boring. 

And anxiety inducing. 

But the lack of distraction from the ever pressing issue of his soulmate, especially with the long lines up the length of his arms, was infuriating.

He tried everything.

Youtube, games, writing, hell, he went on a run. 

While he had barely spent a second not busying himself with something, he still managed to find the brain space to worry, both about his soulmate and about Dazai.

It was far too warm to be wearing trousers today, and finding shorts that covered the lines down his thighs had been agonising, but he had managed to find a pair that covered them comfortably while still being relatively short.

And now, he was sitting in the kitchen waiting for water to boil for dinner, and he had nothing in his hands.

All he can do, is think.

He can see his sisters out in the garden, sitting and reading on a blanket on the grass. His parents were out, and Kouyou couldn't cook if her life depended on it, so he was asked to make dinner.

Eager for another distraction he had leapt at the chance, but now the water was nowhere near boiling and his phone was on charge next to his bed upstairs.

He feels miserable.

Which is depressing, the sun is bright and it's warm, he's been productive and he is objectively doing alright.

But he hasn't spoken to Dazai for days. His last interactions with Dazai were uncomfortable and upsetting, which isn't either of their faults, but he's unbelievably worried. 

'One of my friends lives on Dazai's street. There's a little rumour that his Dad hits him. She caught it through a window apparently...his dad hates him, and his mum left him.'

He hears the words clear in his brain, over and over.

And Dazai is currently god knows where, and alone with his Dad. Though, aside from Shirase's words, he has no reason to believe that Dazai's dad would do something like that.

But what Shirase said, combined with that stupid flinch he had noticed on what... Tuesday? 

Dazai had flinched a second time, as well. When he had been shouting at him.

He still can't remember what he had said exactly. He just remembers going on about how they don't like each other. Interesting, given the moment he had thought he liked Dazai.

'Maybe I want to be an overprotective boyfriend.'

Why did Dazai sound so serious when he said that? 

'That's a rather harsh rejection.'

They don't like each other. 

But Dazai had said it in his stupid half serious half joking tone, the one where he wants to something, but he doesn't want to be told no, or criticised. 

He used it in class a lot when answering questions, like he's prepared to shout about how he got the answer wrong on purpose if it wasn't right. It was always right, Dazai was a genius.

Maybe he had just been uncomfortable with the situation.

As far as he knows, Dazai has never dated anyone. Kissed people, sure, but he's never had a serious relationship, and as far as Chuuya knew, he'd never kissed a guy. Only girls. Though, Dazai commonly made comments or jokes about the attractiveness of male actors or singers.

How much of that was jokes?

He sighed, pulling himself out that train of thought as the water neared a boil, and he grabbed the bag of pasta, grabbing a knife and using it to slice open the bag. 

He'd be killed if he did that in his home economics class- his teacher would probably stab him with the knife he used just to tell him not to do it again. But he wasn't in a classroom right now.

He poured the pasta into the pot, guessing the amount he'd need. He couldn't be bothered measuring, and honestly he was starving so he'd eat any leftovers.

He grabbed a fork to push the pasta around the pot- another thing he'd be killed for in home economics. 

As the pasta was all under water he put the fork down and put a clip on the bag of pasta, putting it away in the cupboard. 

When he went to take a seat again, his eyes caught on the knife on the counter again. He needed to put it away. 

He grabbed it, but hesitated as the sharp edge caught in the light.

He knew how sharp it was, it had cut through the pasta bag easily.

He was drawn back to his soulmate. The blue lines covering his body, wherever his soulmate must find easy to hide.

He swallowed, looking down at the knife. Surely it must feel somewhat good if someone could do it so much? Cathartic, maybe? 

Just a release of emotion.

He hesitated again, but with a glance around the kitchen to ensure it was still empty, he pulled up his sleeves, seeing the pretty blue staining his skin. 

It would genuinely be gorgeous, various shades of light blue scattered across his skin, if it wasn't for the knowledge of why they were there.

Putting the knife down he ran a finger along his skin. It was weird, he expected a different texture, a raised patch or just something different. But it was all the same.

Just the feeling of his skin, more sensitive than usual due to being covered so much.

With a shaky hand, he picked the knife up again, pressing it against one of the deep blue lines in the middle of his forearm. The tip of the knife barely covered half of it. The motion was probably more of a push and pull than just push. 

He wasn't sure what he had been expecting. 

When he had considered doing this, about a year ago, when someone he had trusted decided to tell everyone that he was gay, he had told Dazai. 

He hadn't meant to. It had been an accident, a simple 'do you have something sharp I can borrow' that had resulted in Dazai pressing for more information and pulling the truth out of him. 

Dazai had convinced him to tell his parents, and he never even got the chance to try it. Surprisingly, he hadn't even thought about it since the bullying stopped. 

At least, until his birthday.

Now he had a knife to his arm. But if he felt so... distraught over everything that had been happening, surely this would help take his mind off of it?

Making his mind up, he found a clear patch of skin, and pressed the knife down and took a deep breath.

one.

two.

three.

He pulled the knife with a pained gasp. 

"Chuuya!"

His sister screamed behind him.

Chuuya jumped in surprise, dropping the knife and yanking his sleeves down as he whirled around to see Kouyou standing with wide eyes in the kitchen doorway.

"It- This- It's not what it seems, I swear." Chuuya managed to get out after a few times, but Kouyou ignored him. 

She stormed into the room, snatched the knife and threw it into the sink, and when she next met Chuuya's eyes, her's were filled with tears. 

"What the fuck was that then. Show me your arm, what did you do." She said accusingly, narrowing her eyes as she stood in front of him with her arms crossed.

Chuuya's brain was swimming from the sting in his arm, and the sudden wave of sickness that had come with the single cut, and he struggled for an answer.

"It's nothing. It was stupid I won't do it again," he said, his voice breaking. He was shaking, and he felt like his legs might give out underneath him.

"Chuuya. Let me see." Kouyou snapped. 

Chuuya flinched, not intending too. He knew his sister was just scared. Of course she would be. He shouldn't have done that, not here at least. 

"It doesn't matter, I don't think it was that deep." Chuuya protested, shielding his arm protectively. 

"No! It's does matter Chuuya! No matter how deep it was, you still put a knife to your skin!" Kouyou yelled, but before Chuuya could respond he hissed in pain, a slight pain suddenly radiating through his thigh.

Of all times for his soulmate to do this. Actually, this was the first time his soulmate had hurt himself while Chuuya was awake since that time in English. 

Kouyou took a step back, and both of their eyes widened at the new blue lines appearing rapidly one after the other, lower on Chuuya's thighs than he'd even seen. 

They were silent for a second, until Kouyou spoke, her voice wavering.

"Now you really need to explain. If you don't tell me now, I'll tell mum and dad and have them ask you." She threatened needlessly, the words already beginning to spill from Chuuya's mouth.

"It's my soulmate, he's been hurting himself for god knows how long and it's everywhere and he's still doing it, and I don't know why but I felt so bad I figured if he's been doing it for so long and so much it must at least feel good but it really really doesn't and it actually really hurts." He blurted out, somehow making it through the entire explanation without bursting into tears.

Kouyou blinked rapidly, nodding as she took it in.

"Okay, okay, show me your arm. Please." She said, sounding calmer, albeit barely. 

Chuuya nodded in response, pulling his sleeve up and wincing as it brushed over the stinging cut, the blood smearing slightly.

Kouyou looked like she might be sick, but she just grabbed a clean cloth from a nearby shelf and pressed it against Chuuya's arm. 

Kouyou's hands seemed to be shaking more than his own, and Chuuya felt bad, watching the blood stain the cloth.

"I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Chuuya whispered, his voice breaking as he spoke.

Kouyou shook her head, face down, but Chuuya saw a tear fall down her cheek.

"No, don't apologise. It's not your fault. It was stupid, yes, but it's okay. Just don't do it again. Don't do again." She said, her own voice wavering. 

Chuuya nodded, sniffling, but refusing to cry.

"I won't. I promise I won't do it again. I hated it anyway." 

He paused, and went quiet for a moment until Kouyou removed the cloth.

It wasn't really that deep, but would unfortunately still probably leave a scar. Kouyou opened the cupboard under the sink to fish out the first aid kit, and Chuuya cleared his throat.

"Please don't tell mum and dad." He said quietly, his tone pleading.

Kouyou froze, in the process of finding a suitable plaster.

She took a deep and slow breath as she stood up, peeling off the backing as she came over. 

"I won't." She agreed reluctantly. "But you will tell them yourself." She compromised, angling the plaster and then smoothing it over the broken skin like it had never happened. 

Chuuya felt sick at the idea of telling them. He remembered their concern from the year before. They had been so worried and upset for him. He didn't want to do that to them again.

But if he didn't agree, Kouyou would tell anyway.

"...I will." He said after a second. 

Kouyou just nodded, stepping back and wiping her eyes.

"If you do that again, I'll find a way to make it so that pizza and video games as a combination are banned." She threatened, trying to show her concern without scaring Chuuya into not doing it again, or not telling anyone if he did.

Chuuya laughed awkwardly, and pulled his sleeve back down again.

"Then what would I do when Dazai comes over?" He responded, internally panicking for a second as he remembered the pasta, but checking to find it was still okay, and needing a few more minutes. 

"That's the point dumbass." Kouyou responded.

After a moment, Chuuya was yanked backwards, and pulled into a bone crushing hug.

"That was horrifying. Please. Don't do that again." Kouyou whispered into Chuuya's hair. 

Chuuya felt himself getting choked up, and he just nodded, hugging back just as tightly and trying not to cry. 

"I won't. I promise." He whispered, and he meant it.

---

Under the lamplight, surrounded by textbooks, Dazai grimaced as he peeled his trousers away from his thighs, the fresh wounds from mere hours before sticking to his clothes. 

He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair and he started unseeingly at another article about cancer and complications. 

It was the last thing he wanted to be reading. 

But he had jobs to do, and he didn't want to disappoint his father in another way. Maybe, if he was better than 'good for his age', Mori would be genuinely proud of him.

So he rubbed his eyes, and started adding to his notes.

'Cancer, as it metastasizes.'

Chapter Text

On Monday morning, Chuuya's body felt like lead as he pulled himself out of bed, dragging himself through his usual routine, dressing and brushing his teeth, packing his lunch, doing so silently and slowly.

He had barely blinked as he left the house and Dazai wasn't there, just walking to school, something in his gut telling him to not bother waiting. 

His brain was on autopilot as he ghosted through his classes, looking out for Dazai with every class he walked into, immense disappointment filling him every time he couldn't find the familiar mess of brown hair in the corner of each room.

By the time he was walking out to lunch, he was even more miserable than he had been before. 

The single cut hidden under the plaster on his arm was surprisingly painful, making him question how his soulmate could stand being alive with that constant pain everywhere.

Next to him, Tachihara was rambling about a video game he had been playing, having noticed Dazai's absence and decided to take his place. 

"And then, you're supposed to shoot all the guys appearing on screen, while also trying to stand on the different plates to kill the big guy. The biggest problem is getting everyone else to do what they're told, I swear half the guys I play with are useless." 

Chuuya hummed absentmindedly, walking with his hands in his pockets, not really listening. 

"The entire thing isn't even that hard, it's just trying to find competent teammates!" Tachihara continued, getting rather heated over the whole thing. 

Chuuya just looked up at the sky, at the white clouds drifting across it, peering at the grey ones on the horizon, foreshadowing rain. 

Honestly, if he was in a better mood he'd be asking questions, and probably figuring out whether it would be worth scrounging his pocket money to save for the game himself, especially with Dazai's birthday coming up. He was good with saving his money, but he was still trying to figure out how to one up Dazai after the gifts he got for his birthday.

That fountain pen now had a dedicated place on his desk.

He sighed, and Tachihara elbowed him.

"Hellooo! Earth to Chuuya? Are you even listening?" Tachihara asked accusingly, looking more concerned than annoyed. 

"You've been blanking out all day dude. Moping over your boyfriend not being here?" 

Chuuya shrugged, kicking a rock as he walked. 

"I mean, Dazai was supposed to be back today. He said he'd be in school, and he's not been here all day, and now it's lunch, and he's-" Chuuya halted in the middle of his sentence, stopping to stare at Tachihara.

"Boyfriend?!" 

Tachihara laughed as Chuuya's face went red, absolutely mortified.

"Hahaha! Oh my god, and you knew exactly who I was talking about too!" Tachihara said with a wide grin, and Chuuya's eyes widened.

"I- Fuck you! I didn't hear you properly!" He shouted, and Tachihara jumped backwards, still grinning like an idiot.

"Dazai's your boyfriend is he? Are you in looove?" Tachihara teased, and Chuuya threw his arms in the air.

"I'm not! I hate that bastard with my entire soul! I'll fucking kill you if you ever say that again!" Chuuya screamed at the retreating Tachihara.

"You like Dazai! You like Dazai!" Tachihara just taunted, like the five year old he might as well be.

Chuuya just scowled, and started walking after Tachihara, who yelped, and started running, to which Chuuya followed, the two running across the field while Tachihara screamed. 

Chuuya actually found himself smiling as he chased after Tachihara, pausing to grab a fistful of the recently cut grass, grabbing Tachihara's arm when he caught up to him and reaching up to dump it on top of his head.

"Ew! Chuuya what the fuck!" Tachihara complained, making a futile attempt at brushing off the grass.

"You even had to reach up to get that on my head did you even notice that?" He added after a moment, a cocky smile back on his face. 

Chuuya paused, and glared at Tachihara, before quickly bending down to grab another handful. 

Instantly Tachihara started sprinting the rest of the way to the area lunch was normally held at, and as soon as he got there, he ducked behind Gin, who just looked at him weirdly as he used them as a full body shield.

"That's it coward! Hide behind your partner!" Chuuya yelled, not dropping the grass as he slowed the rest of the way, smiling politely at Gin.

"Hey Gin, do you mind if I can get past you, your boyfriend needs a good punch, and I have an awfully thoughtful gift for him." He said, nodding at the fistfuls of grass he had full intention of shoving down the back of Tachihara's shirt.

Gin just shrugged and stepped aside, to which Tachihara instantly started pleading with them.

"No, Gin, Please save me, he's going to kill me!" Tachihara begged, and Chuuya stepped forward, reaching to throw the first handful of grass at him. 

Then suddenly, he heard a familiar laugh coming from his lunch spot.

He whipped his head around, instantly distracted by the sound.

"Oh thank god!" Tachihara breathed in relief, and Chuuya turned back to glare at him again. 

Gin laughed silently, and signed something to Tachihara, who smirked. Chuuya, while he had been attempting to learn sign, was not very good at it, and looked at Tachihara with confusion.

"They said to tell you that your boyfriend's here." Tachihara said smugly. 

Chuuya felt himself go red again, and although he was prepared to turn around and go straight to his lunch spot, he took an extra moment to shove both fistfuls of grass in Tachihara's face.

He just flipped his middle finger at Gin, and promptly turned to leave.

"Ginger twink!" He heard from behind him as he walked away.

"Ginger whore!" He returned, looking back over his shoulder with a glare, which he found being returned as Tachihara tried to brush the grass off his clothes.

Satisfied, Chuuya quickly walked the rest of the way to the tree he sat at for lunch, finding Dazai sitting in his usual place, smiling and speaking with Ranpo. 

"You!" Chuuya instantly said, pointing at Dazai. "What the fuck are you doing here jackass?" 

Dazai just looked back up from where he was sitting with exaggerated disgust.

Before he could say anything though, Chuuya, who hadn't stopped walking, practically threw himself into Dazai's arms, making himself comfortable leaning on Dazai like a pillow.

Dazai had made a slight 'oof' sound, and seemed surprised by the sudden onslaught of attention. 

"Hello, it's nice to see you too." Dazai said sarcastically, but he hugged Chuuya back, squeezing him tightly. 

Chuuya huffed, and he shifted, and punched Dazai's shoulder, swearing and then pulling away, glaring at him.

"Fuck you, you said you'd be back. You didn't respond to any of my messages, you weren't there this morning, and this is the first time I've seen your disgusting face for days." He said accusingly, looking at Dazai's face closely, realizing as he did so that he was checking for injuries. 

Dazai seemed fine, aside from looking a little tired and pale, but that was normal. 

"Mori took my phone away the moment we reached the hotel. He wanted me to be as focused as possible. I didn't get back until about an hour ago, and my phone was dead when I was given it back." Dazai explained, pointing to his phone, which was on the grass next to Kunikida, being charged from a battery pack. 

He looked apologetic, and he shrugged. 

"The drive home was incredibly boring without being able to listen to music." Dazai complained, his tone whiney. 

Chuuya rolled his eyes, hitting Dazai's shoulder once more, and shifting to sit next to him, leaning against him with his arms crossed.

"Quit whining, nobody cares." Chuuya said, moving his bag and rummaging around in it for his lunchbox.

He was relieved Dazai was here though, and honestly would have been content to listen to Dazai whine about whatever he wanted for a few hours.

As he found his lunchbox, and when he unclipped it he yawned, finding himself surprisingly tired all of a sudden. He hadn't slept well, especially not the previous night, tossing and turning all night long.

Dazai elbowed him to get his attention, then twisted to take Chuuya's face between his hands, looking at him closely. 

"How tired are you? Did you not sleep?" Dazai asked as Chuuya felt his face warm up. "You look exhausted."

He scowled, and pushed Dazai's hands away quickly, and just pulled out his sandwich, shoving it in his mouth, and shrugging.

"I'm tired, but it's not a big deal. I just didn't sleep well." He said around a mouthful of food, wrinkling his nose as he thought back to the night before, the nausea that had made a home in his stomach since the... incident before dinner, and the anxious restlessness that had been gnawing at him.

Dazai sighed, thinking with furrowed eyebrows. 

"You're normally out like a light the second it hits 10pm." He said as he peered at the contents of Chuuya's lunchbox, deciding none of it looked particularly worth stealing. 

Chuuya scoffed, and rolled his eyes, quickly polishing off the rest of the sandwich half he had picked out. 

"Don't say that like it's a bad thing. Normally I'd wake up at like 7 in the morning, I get nine hours of sleep. That's healthy, I've just been more tired recently, and happen to be restless at the same time." 

Dazai just hummed, crossing his arms and settling back against the tree, allowing for Chuuya to completely rest his weight against Dazai's side.

He was really tired, he thought as he eyed his lunch, not actually very hungry.

It was comfortably warm, and Dazai was breathing steadily as he talked quietly with Ranpo- well, as he made vague noises of acknowledgement while Ranpo talked about the boy he was positive was his soulmate, but apparently wasn't very forthcoming with any information about it.

Chuuya might have been more interested, but his eyes were heavy, and he was quite content to just... close them.

He tried to stifle a yawn, and failed, sighing in annoyance as he picked at the grass.

Dazai shifted next to him, and Chuuya saw his opportunity, closing his eyes fully and pretending to be asleep as he rested his head on Dazai's shoulder, effectively cuddling into him.

Dazai's first reaction seemed to be to elbow him and push him off, but Chuuya was careful in his pretense, and when he let himself fall forward slightly, Dazai was quick to move to make it even easier for Chuuya to lay against him.

"Is he asleep?" Chuuya heard Ranpo ask, amusement in his tone. 

Dazai's response was nonverbal, so Chuuya couldn't tell, but he assumed it was a nod. 

While he hadn't necessarily intended to actually fall asleep, he could feel the familiar tug at the edges of his consciousness, attempting to drag him into the murky depths of a dreamless sleep. 

He didn't resist, letting it wash over him, his breathing slowing as he finally fell asleep.

"Is he asleep?" Ranpo asked, and Dazai glanced at him from where he had awkwardly positioned himself in an attempt to prevent Chuuya from falling. 

He shook his head, and smile tugging at his lips as he felt Chuuya breathing next to him, slightly quick and shallow, but dragged out like he was pretending.

He wouldn't complain though, and he certainly wouldn't point it out. 

Ranpo rolled his eyes, miming gagging when Dazai managed to find a comfortable way to sit, Chuuya's full weight resting on him.

It didn't take long for Chuuya's breathing to even out fully, and when Chuuya moved to grab Dazai's sleeve in his sleep, mumbling something, Dazai smiled.

"Now he's asleep." He whispered to Ranpo, who looked up from his phone, eyes flicking between the sleeping Chuuya, and rosy cheeked Dazai. 

"...Could your crush be any less obvious?" Ranpo asked dryly, causing Dazai to wave his hand dismissively.

"Just because you're content just dating for the title, doesn't mean you can shit on me for being friends and also infatuated with Chuuya. If I want to pine hopelessly, I will." He said, keeping his voice low to avoid waking Chuuya, or having him stir and hear what he was saying.

Ranpo paused, thinking for a moment. His eyes flickered to Chuuya's arms, and the blue lines covering them.

"You're trying awfully hard to hide it, knowing what you do." He said. To Ranpo, the fact that Chuuya returned Dazai's feelings was painfully obvious.

It had been for a month or so by now, ever since Dazai had started to make fun of Chuuya about the prospect of his soulmate, as what had been an obvious attempt to deflect from the way Dazai had clearly been dreading the day he had believed it would be confirmed that he and Chuuya weren't meant to be. 

Chuuya had been extremely agitated over it, snapping at Dazai, changing his responses from other people teasing him to Dazai teasing him. 

The snappy responses, the defensiveness, it had all screamed unrecognised feelings and denial.

For someone who didn't seem to experience romantic attraction, he sure could notice it on anyone else. 

Speaking of, he glanced at Yosano and Kunikida, who had taken to sitting together during lunch recently.

Maybe he needed to orchestrate a way to get Kunikida hurt. He was annoyingly durable apparently. Just a little bruise somewhere. Maybe pushing him down a flight of stairs...?

Dazai cleared his throat, trying to pull Ranpo's attention back on him, slightly disturbed by the thoughtful look that had taken over Ranpo's face as he looked at their other friends sitting just out of earshot. 

"You know why I can't tell Chuuya. He'd hate me, for one." Dazai said, and he got cut off by an annoyed tone from Ranpo.

"You know that isn't true. You two could make an attempt on each other's lives and you'd still end up sitting together at lunch."

Dazai coughed a little in surprise, casting a pointed glance at the fading lines up the inside of Chuuya's arms. 

Ranpo grimaced. 

"Poor choice of words." He said tightly.

Dazai nodded, and cleared his throat, his cheeks slightly red, and feeling distinctly uncomfortable.

"Yeah. Regardless, I'm going to pretend I believe you, that way you give up trying to get me to believe it. And, as we just reminded ourselves, there is another reason I can't tell Chuuya." He said firmly. 

Ranpo frowned. Then, he just sighed, and rubbed his face tiredly.

"You're making me be serious! This drags, why couldn't you be silly?" Ranpo complained, not giving Dazai a chance to respond before speaking again, taking on a solemn tone. 

"You need to speak to someone. This is getting dangerous." Ranpo said firmly, and Dazai cringed away, attempting to duck behind Chuuya.

"I won't tell. You know I won't. I don't work like that. It was already bad, and it was already dangerous, but you're not passively suicidal anymore Dazai." 

"You have made an attempt on your life. Listen to me. You have tried to kill yourself. That's different. On top of that, you haven't told me why, and for all I know you still have what you used, because I know shitty pencil sharpener blades can't do whatever the fuck you did to your arms." 

"You are suicidal. I'm not blind." 

Ranpo took a deep breath while Dazai carefully removed Chuuya's hand from his sleeve, intertwining it with his own instead.

"I won't tell anyone what you did, but if it comes to it, I will tell Fukuzawa that I'm worried about you." 

Dazai just stayed quiet, playing with Chuuya's hand, tracing pattens on the back, running his fingers over the faint blue lines of his veins.

Ranpo sighed. After a moment of hesitation, he got up, moving to sit on the other side of Dazai, pressing against his side, crossing his arms like he wasn't happy about it. 

Dazai blinked in surprise. It was well known Ranpo wasn't big on physical touch except under very specific circumstances. 

"I know. I wouldn't..." Dazai hesitated, groaning internally. Everything in him was screaming at him that he should push Ranpo away. It wasn't safe to be honest with him anymore. Their entire agreement was that Ranpo would find out anyway, so it was either Ranpo found out on his own and told, or was told by Dazai, and kept it a secret.

Still, he squashed that part of him down, and took a deep breath.

"I wouldn't hold a grudge against you for it. I understand it's serious in your eyes." Dazai said begrudgingly, sighing. 

Ranpo didn't look pleased with the insinuation that it wasn't actually a big deal, but relented, just relaxing slightly next to Dazai. 

"Just... be careful." Ranpo said after a moment.

Dazai swallowed, and nodded. He looked down at Chuuya's sleeping form, and at his peaceful expression. 

Chuuya shifted in his sleep, his grip in Dazai's hand tightening slightly. 

Dazai felt the bile rise in his throat. If Chuuya found out, he'd never get this again. Not in the same way. 

--- 

Dazai's house was gloomier than Chuuya remembered. 

It was like an air of misery had settled over it, grey and dull, the same as every other house on the street. 

All the curtains seemed to be closed, no lights on, and no plants, unlike some of the other houses. 

It likely wasn't helped by the clouds, which had gotten steadily darker throughout the day, but Chuuya could swear it hadn't always been like this. At some point, it had been a happy place.

Clinically clean, and unsettling at times, but he only had good memories here. 

Maybe he'd just grown up.

He didn't miss the slight hesitance in Dazai's demeanour as he went to open the door, but he didn't get the chance to comment on it before Dazai swung the door open, walking in confidently.

He followed Dazai inside, slightly confused by the sudden switch, and Dazai tossed his bag down on the floor, as if it didn't matter where it landed. 

"Welcome back to the hell house!" Dazai said with a dramatic sigh, turning and grinning at Chuuya. 

"Just wait here while I grab Elise, my rooms a bombsite right now." Dazai said, pointing in the direction of the living room, and then quickly going to the stairs, casting a single anxious glance at his bag on the floor before he disappeared.

Chuuya furrowed his eyebrows as a sense of unease settled in his stomach, goosebumps crawling up the backs of his arms as he cautiously stepped into the living room, looking around. 

Not much had changed, a new rug and tv, a untouched candle on a shelf. 

It looked like a display room in a furniture. He was almost surprised to not see product names and priced on everything. 

It didn't look like anyone actually lived here. The only evidence of life were two blankets laying next to the arm of the couch, a matching blue and pink with stars, like traditional baby blankets but a little bigger. 

Surely, Dazai and Elise's. Chuuya smiled slightly, something warming his heart about the idea of Dazai and Elise sitting together and watching tv. 

It was a shockingly endearing image. Dazai was rather good with kids, surprisingly, which he wouldn't have ever expected. 

He could easily imagine Dazai as a father, or generally, as a member of a family, maybe married to someone, maybe pretty, with long hair. Blue eyes, maybe.

The thought of a domestic Dazai, one that he could be around all the time, was something he couldn't help but wish he could be a part of.

He has longish hair. Blue eyes, too. 

But... he has a soulmate. And doesn't like Dazai. 

He's had to purposely remind himself of that fact too many times for his liking recently.

He swallowed, and turned away from the blankets, shaking the thought out of his head. Stuff like that wasn't suited for him, and Dazai wouldn't want him like that anyway.

Maybe he was feminine enough that Dazai would look past the gender thing. Not that he wanted him too. 

Before he could take that thought further, his gaze drifted to an imperfection in the white walls, which were a consistent shade, aside from the single mark near the door.

He walked closer, squinting at the brownish stain, a red tint to it. It wasn't small either. Like it had been a liquid, it was a spatter. 

He felt slightly nauseous, looking up at it, reaching out to touch it. 

As he did so, the door opened, and he practically jumped out of his skin, and Mori entered the house, in the process of running his hand through his hair as he spotted the bag on the floor of the hallway. 

His gaze landed on Chuuya next, and Chuuya straightened up instinctively, feeling nervous under Mori's assessing stare. 

"Chuuya." Mori said as an observation, his eyes flitting back to the bag. 

"Dazai brought you here I assume?" 

Chuuya nodded, and spoke, trying to explain quickly. Something told him he wasn't meant to be here.

"We're taking Elise to meet Kyouka, since they're only a little bit different in age, so they'll probably get along nicely, and it looks like it'll rain any second so Dazai just let me in." He said quickly, and Mori hummed.

"I'm sure he did." 

Chuuya shifted uncomfortably, and Dazai came down barely a moment later, darting into the space in front of Chuuya, almost protectively.

"We're just leaving." Dazai said, darting forward to grab his bag then returning to his spot in front of Chuuya. 

Elise was stood in the hallway, in a pretty blue frock, a matching jacket unzipped over it. 

Chuuya just wanted to leave, uncomfortable with the sudden tension. 

His eyes darted from his view of the back of Dazai's head to the mark on the wall. It was just about the height of the top of Dazai's head. 

If Dazai stood on his toes, or was slightly raised somehow... It would be roughly the same height as the cut on the back of his head. 

Then Dazai's hand was in his and he was being dragged out the house, Elise quick behind, and Chuuya looked back over his shoulder to see Mori standing in the doorway, watching them leave impassively.  

"What was that?" Chuuya asked sharply the second they were out of view, and Dazai shook his head. 

"I'll explain later." 

He never did.

Chuuya only remembered the weird encounter as he was getting ready to shower that night.

He cursed himself internally, turning to glance over himself in the mirror. 

As he did, he noticed, a blue mark on his left shoulder, faint but definitely there.

He frowned, looking at it closely.

Where did that come from?

Back at Mori's house, Dazai rubbed his shoulder with a sigh. Chuuya needed to learn to punch a little lighter if he was upset. 

He'd mention it another day.

Chapter Text

Forcing himself out of bed the next morning was agonising. 

Chuuya woke with a pounding headache, instantly shoving his face into his pillow and groaning, covering his ears as though it would solve the issue, laying there for multiple minutes contemplating just going back to sleep. 

But eventually he picked himself up, exhausted and in pain. He eyed his uniform, then shook his head, giving up and just sighing, deciding to go and eat before he even considered the idea of getting dressed again.

He grabbed his hoodie from the chair next to his desk, pulling it over his head as he walked out his door, his steps heavy as he traipsed down the stairs, rubbing his eyes and wincing in the light, but his headache was slowly beginning to ebb away, allowing him to actually think in order to consider what he wanted for breakfast. 

He opened the cupboard to stare unblinkingly at the various cereals, the idea of eating something extremely unappealing. 

He just sighed and closed the cupboard instead, grabbing an apple from the bowl of fruit on the counter, opening a drawer to grab a knife, not bothering with a plate as he cut the apple into slices on the counter, eating a piece as he finished. 

He paused to pick another bit to eat, and his eyes flicked to the knife again, trying to ignore the way his chest constricted, looking away pointedly. 

He was quick as took the knife and wiped it clean over the kitchen sink, putting it away before he ate another piece, ignoring the shake of his hand. 

It took him a few more minutes to finish the slices of apple, and he wiped the juice from the counter and put the core in the bin, feeling a little better now he'd eaten and woken up properly.

He was still tired, but he should be able to make it through school. 

As he went to go back to his room, he paused, spotting his parents in the living room, sitting on the couch, talking quietly, their tones hushed and worried.

He cautiously stepped into the room, and they looked at him expectantly, as though waiting for him to say something.

When he didn't, and just loitered in the doorway uncomfortably, the weight of all the secrets he had been keeping heavy on his shoulders, his mother smiled gently, and held out a hand to coax him into the room. 

"Good morning sweetheart, did you sleep well?" She asked as Chuuya stepped forward, standing in the room in his pyjamas and hoodie, feeling uncomfortable in a way he never had before. 

He had never been uncomfortable or scared around his parents. It wasn't something he could understand, for the longest time, how a child could feel unsafe with their parents. 

He couldn't imagine the feeling of something crawling up his spine, the way his palms were sweating, the nausea in the pit of his stomach at he sight of his parents sitting together on the couch. 

The feeling was unpleasant and horrifying, something he wished he still had the luxury of not having experienced. 

He's been thrown off or upset over something his parents have done, but above all else, he has never been scared of them. 

He wouldn't call this fear, necessarily, he was just...

he didn't want to disappoint them. 

And realistically he knows they won't be disappointed, but he doesn't want to scare them either. He doesn't want them to have to worry.

But they're his parents. That's their job. 

He took a deep breath, a movement in the doorway catching his eyes. 

He made eye contact with Kouyou, who looked at him with an expression of veiled concern, pointedly glancing at their parents before she closed the door, and turned to leave.

"...Chuuya." His father started, sounding worried. 

"You can tell us anything. You know that, right? We're here when you need us. When you want us. And when you don't want us too." 

Chuuya turned back to them, eyes searching their worried and open expressions as he hesitated, not sure what to do. 

They were his parents. If anyone was going to love him unconditionally, it would be them. They are supposed to be willing to help him with anything, to put him and his siblings first where possible. 

Moreover, they were adults. He turned 16 less than a month ago. 

They could handle the truth. 

"I know that." He said after a moment, playing with the cuff of his jumper sleeve, not meeting their eyes. 

He heard his mother hum, and then she spoke. 

"You've been sleeping a lot recently. I don't think I've seen you without a hoodie on since your birthday. Is there something going on?" She prodded gently.

Chuuya sighed, and then he nodded, trying to organise his thoughts into words, and then he spoke quietly.

"Yeah. There's a lot going on." He said, taking a deep breath, figuring out where to start. 

"On my birthday... I got my soulmate mark." He continued, refusing to look at his parents, staring at the floor. 

"But my soulmate... he isn't... he isn't okay. He's really not okay." He said, and his mother reached out, taking one of his hands, and she pulled him to sit on the couch, between his parents. 

He could have melted from his relief, instantly comforted as he was pressed tightly into the space between his parents, like he was child again, staying up past his bedtime, watching a movie he probably shouldn't be because he pleaded enough to be allowed to watch it. 

"Take your time. We've got all day." His mother said softly, brushing his hair behind his ear.

He nodded, pausing for a moment.

The contrast to how he acted with his siblings and friends to his parents was drastic, he was frequently loud and boisterous and he enjoyed causing trouble, but like this, with his parents, he was content to just sit quietly, ready to curl up and sleep.

He didn't know what he'd do without them. 

"My soulmate is injured, all the time. There hasn't been a single day since my birthday where I haven't had marks. He does it to himself. He's been hurting himself, repeatedly, and I don't know how long for." He said slowly, explaining as best as he could, drawing his knees into his chest.

He saw his parents exchange worried glances, but they didn't say anything, waiting for him to continue.

"He tried to kill himself." 

His parents didn't react the way he expected them to. There was no surprised gasps, no exclamations of concern or anger, just a hand on his shoulder from his father, and a sigh from his mother. 

"That's not your fault. There's nothing you can do about it. Not right now. Right now, our concern is you. How are you feeling about it?" His father said, squeezing his shoulder slightly. 

Chuuya shrugged, and swallowed. 

"I don't know. I mean. I try not to think about it. I just... I get really worried about it sometimes. I get sad and upset, and honestly I'm angry about it, and I don't know why." He said, trying to figure it out as he went. He hadn't actually really thought about it. He didn't try and figure out what exactly he was feeling, just that he was, and that he wasn't liking it much. 

"I got really upset over it. To the point where I just... almost felt numb. And my soulmate- he's been hurting himself, and a lot, and I got to a point where I just thought, 'Hey, he's doing this a lot, it must help a little, right?', so I just... It made sense that it would help." 

His mother tensed up next to him, and took his hand, looking at him carefully, meeting his gaze. 

"Chuuya, it made sense that what would help?" She asked gently. 

Chuuya felt his throat go dry, and he struggled to find the words for a moment. 

"...Cutting myself." He said, like he was ashamed of it.

His mothers grip on his hand tightened, but her expression and tone stayed as calm as possible, keeping it soft. 

"Oh honey..." She whispered, cupping his face with her hand and brushing her thumb over his cheek.

"Are you alright, do we need to see a doctor? Have you done it more than once?" She asked, and Chuuya shook his head.

"No, I only tried it once. It was really bad, I hated it. It made me feel sick, and it really hurt, and actually still kinda does, and I never want to do that again." He said quickly, his voice breaking a little.

"Okay, okay, that's good. Please, if you ever feel like that again, come and talk to us." His mother said, a little desperation slipping into her tone.

"We would never want you to have to struggle on your own. You shouldn't have to feel like you can't talk to us about this stuff." 

Chuuya nodded, and he took a shuddery breath, unsure how to continue. 

"I have a question," Chuuya's father said cautiously, drawing the attention. 

"Your soulmate... Dazai?" He asked, looking like he truly expected a nod of confirmation.

Chuuya blinked. And then again. He sat in dumbfounded silence, staring at his father. 

It was one thing for his friends to joke about it, but his father? 

"No. I hate that mackerel bastard, why the fuck would he be my soulmate." He said, lacking his normal bite, sounding rather miserable about it instead.

His mother sighed, shaking her head. 

"You two make that rather hard to believe when you're sitting cuddled on your bed watching movies or something similar." She said, smiling slightly, just trying to wind him up now. 

Chuuya huffed, sitting back and crossing his arms with a scowl. 

"Not my fault he's the clingy type. He's not my soulmate." He paused, and went quieter.

"Whether I wanted him to be or not." 

Saying it out loud made the nausea in his gut double. He hadn't wanted Dazai to be his soulmate. But he's come to a horrifying reason that maybe he wouldn't have minded it if he was. 

To his horror, he sniffed, and wiped his cheek, his hand coming away wet, staring at the glistening streak on his hand where the light reflected off the smudged tear. 

He didn't know what to do with that. Why was he feeling like this? He wasn't supposed to. He doesn't like Dazai. He doesn't like Dazai. He doesn't like Dazai.

But there was another tear making its way down his face. 

His father was the first to move, taking his shoulders and pulling him into a hug, holding him tightly like he was a child, or like he was fragile, and holding him this tightly would prevent him from shattering.

His mother joined in a few moments later, so he was comfortably enveloped by both his parents, clinging to them tightly, refusing to let his crying become audible, just breathing shakily and staring at the shirt his dad was wearing, trying to think. 

"I think Dazai's dad is hurting him." He said suddenly, unsure where exactly it came from, just spouting it out like fact. 

His mother sighed, stroking his hair. 

"I can't say I'd be surprised." She muttered. "I don't trust Mori. There's a reason I suggested you introduce Kyouka to Elise properly. I'd rather she was here than at her home." 

"But without any physical evidence, there is very little we can do aside from encourage him and his sister to spend as much time here as they can." 

Chuuya's father spoke next, sounding tired.

"The fact that Dazai has at least been neglected should be obvious to any adult who interacts with him. He still gets surprised by simple things that you've experienced your whole life, that seem normal, or as a given. Do you remember when he cried for hours after he did that drawing when you two were little, and it was put on the fridge? Mori is not a good parent, even if he hasn't actually been hurting Dazai physically." 

Chuuya couldn't say he remembered that clearly, but he's sure he could remember sitting on the floor with a puzzle while Dazai had sat on the couch with Chuuya's dad and cried.

He hadn't remembered what caused it, but that made sense.

He felt horrible for not noticing it himself.

"Why could I not tell?" He asked, voice scratchy from trying to stay quiet while crying. 

"You're still a child. It's not your job to notice those things. You're supposed to make friends with who you want, and sometimes those kids are going to have something horrible happening, and sometimes there's nothing you can do. And Dazai is good at pretending." His mother said soothingly. 

"It's not your fault for Dazai's dad mistreating his children. And it's not your fault because you couldn't tell, or because Dazai didn't tell you. And it's not Dazai's fault for wanting to hide it, or not telling anyone." 

Chuuya nodded, just unbelievably tired. This was exhausting, and he was already tired. He just wanted to sleep for hours.

This was so upsetting.

And his parents hadn't even been surprised that he thought Dazai was being hurt. It might be news to them, but they weren't surprised. Like they had been expecting it. That was almost worse.

His parents didn't move, just talking quietly, so Chuuya stayed still, taking advantage of the warm and comfortable hug he was still trapped in, his exhaustion creeping up on him, dragging him back down into sleep, the same way it had with Dazai the day before.

He probably slept for a little while before he was stirred by movement, being scooped into his father's arms, and carried up the stairs, pretending to still be fast asleep as he was brought back to his bed, and he tucked into his unmade bed, and the curtains were drawn closed, a kiss placed on his forehead before the door closed, letting him open his eyes slightly and shift to be more comfortable, feeling warm and safe.

His head hurt again, but he reached to grab his phone, shooting a message to Dazai before he fell back asleep, not seeing the reply before he was back asleep.

Tue 13th Apr

9:23

I'm tiref, wont beuat school :SLUG!

MCKRL: your sister came out and told me. sounds like you need a day off. i hope you sleep well, dream of me please :p

---

Dazai would like to consider himself rather intelligent. 

Which is not the impression Ranpo had seemed to get when he explained his plan at lunch, but Ranpo knows nothing, and appeared to be too busy scheming over something for his advice on the matter to be deemed useful. 

You see, Dazai has a problem. 

And that is, he's been in love with his best friend for at least three years by now.

He is well aware of, and has come to terms with, the fact that he will never get over this infuriating crush.

However, there is a traitorous part of his brain that still makes him spend his day dreaming about how nice it would be to go to college with Chuuya, and maybe university, and then move somewhere together and settle down in a cottage somewhere quiet, where Chuuya can write and he can draw, and they can breathe. 

For multiple reasons, this will never happen, reasons including his current plan to not be alive by the end of the year, Mori's plan to throw him into the medical field, and the fact that whatever plan Chuuya has likely doesn't involve little domestic fantasies where they can have their own family and a cat and a strawberry plant sitting outside the windowsill. 

Yet as he has gathered, he needs to do something about this crush before he can move on with his life.

Ideally, even if he can't be with Chuuya, he might manage to find some redheaded girl with blue eyes who is competitive and loud enough to catch his attention, and he can move on with his life when Chuuya inevitably decides to move in with whichever boyfriend he gets.

But first- he needs to get rejected. 

Or, he needs to find a way to ensure that Chuuya tears down these stupid starry daydreams, before they ruin his life.

So, enter his plan. 

He's going to flirt with Chuuya. Not majorly. Just enough to push Chuuya to tell him to fuck off, until Chuuya gets a boyfriend, or until Chuuya pointedly starts asking about when Dazai's going to get a girlfriend. 

When that happens Dazai can then cry a little, eat shit tons of ice cream and watch 10 things I hate about you for the 50th time, and then move on and pretend he doesn't still want Chuuya with every part of his soul.

He wanted to say that the text message had been carefully planned- but it hadn't. He had simply typed his first thoughts, cringed, added a little face to make it less serious, and sent it. 

Chuuya hadn't responded. 

But when he showed up at Chuuya's door after school he was let in by Chuuya's parents, who offered him something to eat (which he politely refused) and then let him go up to Chuuya's room. 

When he opened Chuuya's door, his bag in hand, Chuuya was sitting up on his bed, his laptop open with something playing. He was still in his pyjamas, but he didn't have his hoodie in like he always had when he was here. 

Dazai decided not to ask, and just came in, putting him bag down and stretching, making himself comfortable on the bed next to Chuuya, not even asking first. 

Chuuya raised an eyebrow, but shifted, and he moved the blanket to allow Dazai to slip under it as well. 

"I wasn't sure if you were going to come over." Chuuya said, pausing the show he was watching. 

Dazai scoffed. 

"I'll always come over. I'd rather be here then anywhere else." He said, shifting to make himself comfortable, leaning against Chuuya. 

Chuuya looked at him, tilting his head a little, smiling. 

"Well, I doubt there's anything I could do to keep you out. So I don't think there's much point trying." 

Dazai laughed a little, meeting Chuuya's gaze. 

"There isn't, you're right. I'll be everywhere, forever. You'll never be able to see a boy with brown hair without thinking of me ever again. Have I ruined strawberry for you?" Dazai asked teasingly, grinning. 

Chuuya just rolled his eyes, and shoved Dazai away. 

"No. You haven't ruined strawberry because I don't mind thinking of you whenever I smell it." 

Dazai blinked for a moment, his cheeks warming, before quickly changing the subject. 

"Did you get my message earlier?" He asked curiously. "You never responded." 

"I didn't think it warranted a response. You were wishing nightmares on me." 

"By telling you to dream of me?" 

"What else? Any dream with you woud be a nightmare." Chuuya said, turning his face away to avoid letting Dazai see the pink on his cheeks. 

Dazai sighed melodramatically, and whined. 

"No it wouldn't! It would be paradise! I'm amazing!" He said, and Chuuya just sighed, moving to change what he was watching. 

"Spiderman?" He asked, not waiting for the answer, which he knew would be a yes, before pressing play. 

Dazai practically squealed in excitement, shifting to be more comfortable in the bed, attention shifting to the movie immediately. 

Chuuya, for all he tried to pay attention, had his attention constantly drawn back to Dazai. 

The room was dark, so Dazai face was lit only by the flashing lights from the screen, but he looked pretty, and kind of tired. 

After a moment of subtle staring, Dazai ended up glancing at him, smiling widely. 

"Staring problem?" He asked teasingly, and Chuuya shook his head, but still didn't look away. 

Dazai ended up looking back at Chuuya closely as well, at the redness under his eyes which made it look like he had been crying, and at the hair falling across his face. 

His breath caught, and hesitantly, despite his usual internal alarm telling him not to do stuff like this, he reached out, brushed Chuuya's hair back, hand loitering a little longer than was necessary. 

Chuuya looked back at him with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, his mouth slightly open. 

Suddenly, Dazai pulled away, moving so he was just laying next to Chuuya, holding onto his arm. 

Chuuya cleared his throat, looking away, the movie suddenly managing to catch his attention.

Dazai was cursing himself internally, furious at getting flustered by his own attempts at shitty flirting, while Chuuya's brain exploded repeatedly, screaming at him. Neither knew what to make of what had just happened. 

Until Dazai frowned, his fingers on Chuuya's arm brushing against something he hadn't noticed. 

He sat up, and turned Chuuya's arm, looking at the single red line on his inner arm with confusion, his eyebrows furrowed and dread pooling in his stomach. 

"Chuuya? What happened here?" Dazai asked, glancing at his face, and Chuuya paled, pulling his arm back. 

"Shit, I took the plaster off to shower last night. Sorry." He apologized, instead of actually answering.

"Don't apologize, what happened?" Dazai asked, frowning and looking at him worriedly. He recognised that kind of injury. 

"It doesn't matter, I'm not going to do it again." Chuuya said defensively, angling his arm away from Dazai. 

"No, it doesn't matter- did you do that to yourself?!" Dazai asked, sounding panicked, and above all, guilty. 

"Yeah, I did, but I'm not going to do it again! It was stupid! I was just upset!" Chuuya said back, raising his voice. He didn't understand why Dazai was so upset over it, no less guilty. 

Daza felt sick, the guilt churning in his stomach like it was trying to crawl up his throat. 

"Was it because of m- your soulmate? Did he give you the idea to do that?!" Dazai asked, his eyes wide. 

Chuuya shook his head adamantly.

"It's not his fault! It's my own responsibility not to do stupid shit because other people are doing it!" 

"But you wouldn't have done it if your soulmate wasn't a problem?" Dazai argued.

Chuuya hesitated, and scowled. 

"Yeah. Fine, I wouldn't have done it if my soulmate hadn't been doing it, because I wouldn't have thought of it." He snapped, sounding hurt.

"Happy now? It was one cut, it's not the end of the world." 

Dazai faltered, and fumbled. 

"One cut usually doesn't stay one cut! 'One cut' will be how your soulmate ended up like that!" Dazai said, pointing at the blue lines on Chuuya's arms. 

"One turns into two, which turns into two more, until it's ruined your life and body." Dazai continued, getting increasingly upset.

"I'm not going to do it again!" Chuuya yelled in frustration. 

"I'm not a child, and I'm not my soulmate. Sure my soulmate can't break the habit, but I'm not going to make it a habit in the first place." 

Dazai blinked a few times, looking hurt and worried, and still looking guilty. Then he took a deep breath, and looked back at the movie, which they hadn't stopped.

"Yeah. Sorry. I was just worried." 

Chuuya sighed, and crossed his arms, looking away, slightly uncomfortable and confused about why Dazai reacted like that. 

"It's fine. Sorry, I had meant to cover it." He muttered. 

"It's fine." Dazai said back just as quietly.

Chuuya took a moment, and then shifted to lay back down again, just focusing on the movie. 

Dazai lay with him again, so they were pressed together, not hugging or anything, just in contact. 

Neither made it to the end of the movie, passing out to sleep, both upset and tired. 

Chuuya only woke up after Dazai had left, his laptop moved to his desk, closed and charging. 

He sat up, realizing how hungry he was and rubbing his eyes. He'd be awake for a while now after sleeping most of the day.

Then his eyes landed on his chair. 

On it, the hoodie Dazai had been wearing. And then, on top of the hoodie, a little card drawing, a bouquet of flowers, roses and tulips. 

He got up and went over, picking up the card and admiring it. He sighed, and ran his hand through his hair, his cheeks warming as he looked back at the hoodie.

He's fucked.

Chapter Text

'I'd probably kiss a boy too.' 

Chuuya launched himself up, papers scattering as he breathed heavily, eyes wide.

Chuuya doesn't dream, necessarily. He's never had a proper dream with a story or full images, sometimes he'll have glimpses of people or memories, but he doesn't dream. 

So what. the fuck. was that? 

Breathing heavily, swallowing and finding his throat completely dry, he checked the time on his phone, staring at the blinking 4:36AM on his lock screen, which happened to be a picture of him and Dazai, a selfie at the arcade.

He looked at the pieces of paper scattered about, some schoolwork Dazai had left when he had been here earlier. 

After sleeping all day, he had stayed up to do some of the work, not wanting to waste time sleeping, but he must have been extremely exhausted given that he had fallen asleep again after being awake for like five hours.

He stood up, leaving his room abruptly. 

He headed straight for the kitchen, grabbing a glass from the cupboard, filling it with cold water and downing it quickly, refilling it, and repeating the process 

When his throat wasn't dryer than a desert, and he could think properly, he rinsed the cup out and put it to dry, running a hand through his hair as he returned to his room quietly. 

Instead of sitting again, he started pacing in his room, biting his thumbnail as his thoughts raced. 

It had been so obviously and clearly Dazai's voice. 

So why does he not remember him saying it? Surely something like that- essentially a coming out- Chuuya would remember. 

Did he make it up? Was he dreaming? How could he know? 

Did Dazai actually like boys?

... 

He stopped his pacing, running his fingers through his hair, tugging at the tangles that were forming at the nape of his neck. 

He grabbed a hair tie from his desk, pulling his hair into a hopefully decent ponytail, and then collapsing into his chair again. 

He took a deep breath, closing his eyes to try and sort through the thoughts in his brain. 

'I'd probably kiss a boy too.'

When had he heard that? 

Opening his eyes again, his gaze landing on the pretty fountain pen sitting on his desk, he sighed, biting his nail again.

Dazai had a habit of commenting on actors, or characters from shows. 

Who could he remember him commenting on? 

Come to think of it, Dazai spoke about a lot of celebrity men affectionately. Well, not affectionately, thirstily is more accurate. 

Chuuya shuddered, thinking back to some of the comments he had seen under edits of fictional characters, courtesy of Dazai. 

He was creative- at least? 

But Chuuya (embarrassingly) had a tiny secret he kept. 

Even, for a while, kept from Dazai. 

A popular K-pop group, 'The flags' were literally Chuuya's favourite group of idols of all time. All the members were handsome, and talented, and they made good music. 

Their lead singer, a person named Lippmann, was genuinely considered to be the prettiest man in Japan. And not only by Chuuya!

But Chuuya had been determined to keep the embarrassing obsession he had held about a year ago, a firmly guarded secret. 

When Dazai inevitably found the magazine cut outs of the various members and their interviews, he had thought he'd never hear the end of it. 

However, when Chuuya had came back into his room to see Dazai with the shoebox of cut outs open- Dazai hadn't made fun of him, hadn't even looked up, somehow never having had seen any of the idols before.

Interestingly, 14 year old Dazai hadn't been as interested in Lippmann as Chuuya had been- though rather obviously still crushing on him now Chuuya had the perspective of hindsight- he had instead been more curious and interested in Albatross, cheeks suspiciously pink as he had picked through the pictures.

After the initial shock and embarrassment had worn off, Chuuya explained who they were, and made Dazai sit through some of their most popular songs. 

All the questions Dazai had seemed to ask centered around Albatross.

'What does he do, what does he play, why does he dress like that, he looks a bit like you, don't you think?'

Chuuya had let Dazai take one of the fan magazines with him, and told him 'Read it fully, you need some lessons on pop culture, it's like you've been shut out from the world or some shit'.

As far as he's aware, Dazai did read the whole thing, and was asking him about the fancy outfits and music videos the next day. 

Dazai was a big Albatross fan for a long while. 

Generally, Chuuya- now that he's older and has got a little more experience in the world- was fairly sure he could put a name to that expression Dazai had been wearing. 

The 'holy fucking shit this one dude i had a crush on was NOT a fluke why is there more than one guy i like fuck fuck fuck' expression had been clearly there, now he thinks about it.

While he doesn't know if that first guy Dazai probably brushed off (if Dazai's realisation had been similar to his own) was another guy, or just going through the various members of The flags and realising there wasn't a single that wasn't attractive to him, he was fairly sure now, that Dazai had at he very least liked male celebrities. 

More than jokingly. 

He didn't want to guess the specifics. That was for Dazai to say. Hell, Dazai might not have come to terms with it himself. 

But... 

Maybe... 

He had a chance. 

The thought made him feel sick, nausea crawling up his throat, and he shook his head, rubbing his face with his hands. 

He stared at his arms, at the blue lines covering them, and all he felt was guilt. 

But there was nothing saying he couldn't have a crush on other people while he has a soulmate.

There was nothing to say he couldn't potentially date somebody while his soulmate is somebody else. 

His room was so quiet he could hear the electricity buzzing, and he took a shaky breath. 

He has a crush on Dazai. 

Surprisingly, after all the days of denying and denying it, the truth was easy to admit. 

After years of knowing Dazai the best out of anyone, and envisioning his future with Dazai, the feelings had developed. That was probably very normal. 

Dazai's birthday was in six days. He would find out his soulmate then. Or at least, he'd get a mark. 

Maybe, once Dazai's birthday has passed, Dazai would decide he didn't want to date his actual soulmate. Maybe then he could have a chance. 

Even if he couldn't be with Dazai romantically, being around would be enough, he believes. 

Maybe a house and a family was realistic, even if it wasn't quite how he thought. 

He'd settle. 

He just needs to hide it until after Dazai's birthday. It can't be that hard, since he's been doing it for days anyway. 

Still, the anxiety and pent up feelings were swirling in his chest and making him feel nervous, like he was unable to sit still. 

With a moment of hesitation, he turned to the paper on his desk. 

Positioning a blank piece of paper and grabbing his pen, Chuuya scratched down the first few words. 

---

Oda had more friends than Dazai thought he would have had. 

He had known Oda to be fairly reserved, to prefer listening over speaking, to like having a small group of people. 

He had thought that his usual group of seven- including himself, would be a bit much for Oda. 

But Oda had so many friends here. 

Dazai didn't know any. 

The only faces he recognised were the ones of Mori, Elise, and Ango.

Chuuya and his parents weren't invited to the funeral. Kouyou and Oda had been good friends for a while. She probably would have wanted to be here. 

But the funeral was to be done quickly and quietly. More of a formality than a memorial. 

Various people had came to him to offer their condolences, to pat his shoulder or ruffle his hair infuriatingly similar to the way Oda used to do it, but not the same, and it never will be the in the same way again. 

Because Oda is dead. 

No amount of wishing, and no amount of crying, is going to change that. So there's no point in crying. There's no point in wishing. 

Instead, he sat through the service in silence, eyes on the floor as he floated elsewhere, the only thing tethering him to earth being Elise's bone crushing grip on his hand as she also tried not to cry. 

He was expected to speak.

Mori said that he wouldn't, making a claim of being to 'grief-stricken' to attempt it, and had thrown Dazai the knowledge he'd be going to speak in his place that morning.

He had no time to prepare, and no clue what to say.

He didn't register the walk to the podium when he was prompted to go and speak, it was like he blinked and suddenly he was standing in front of the crowd of people.

There were quite a few people, at least, compared to the amount of people Dazai expected, probably a little less than fifty people in the room. Mostly Ango's invitations, surely.

His throat felt dry, and he was lightheaded, like he might faint at any second. It was an open casket funeral, and he had to keep his eyes firmly trained forward to avoid his gaze trailing to where he knew he'd see Oda, eyes closed and body carefully prepared to make it look at though he was sleeping. 

He remembers talking to Oda about it- when he had his weird phase fixating on mortuaries, and embalming. Now, he would be able to explain exactly what had been done to Oda's body to prepare it for the burial. 

His breath caught in his throat, but he had barely been up for a few seconds, and it already felt like hours. The time was stretching out, like the entire world had slowed, except for the bubble he was standing in. 

He cleared his throat and the world started turning again, as he dispelled as much emotion as he could. 

"Hey. I've never been to a funeral before, and I've never heard a funeral speech before, so I don't know how these things go." He started, his voice wavering slightly. 

"I don't know most of the people in this room. To be honest, I wasn't expecting many. I thought Oda was much more reserved than he apparently was. He didn't talk to me much about how he was doing in school. He always seemed to prefer letting me speak. I think I just assumed he was a listener."

There was a little laugh from somewhere, confirming that maybe Dazai really hadn't known Oda as well as he thought he had. 

"He listened to anything and everything, and for that I am incredibly grateful. I wish I had listened more. Oda had so many stories, and I wish I remembered more. Wishing won't change anything though. Instead, we should just be thankful for what we did listen to, and for the stories we do remember." 

He had no clue where he was pulling this from. All he wanted was to scream and cry and shout and yet here he was, pretending everything was okay, and that he could just be thankful for what he had, and not devastated over what he couldn't. 

This wasn't fair, he wasn't supposed to be up here. 

Guilt made him feel sick, like this was his fault. Like he was taking time away from the people who actually knew Oda. That actually loved him, and that had been loved back. 

"He wasn't always the best brother, but he was always there. He took care of me and Elise when there wasn't someone else to do it, and I wish there had been an opportunity to repay that to him." He was getting choked up, and he had to resist sending a glare at Mori, the wound of the night Oda died still fresh in his memory. 

He wasn't going to ruin this moment by making it spiteful. 

"I remember how empty the house had felt after he moved out. I remember the excitement of going to see him the first time after that. He had already dedicated a spot for me to sit. A space on the windowsill in the kitchen looking out to the train tracks."

He took a deep breath, wiping away a stray tear. 

"Odasaku-"

He stopped abruptly, blinking.

Then, despite himself, he sniffled, and laughed. 

"I haven't called Oda 'Odasaku' for years." He said as an explanation for the sudden pause, wiping his face as suddenly there were more tears, despite how he promised he wouldn't cry. 

Elise was crying now, and so was Ango, but Ango was sitting with the weird and pained smile like he was happy, but grieved at the same time.

"Odasaku was the one who encouraged me to continue doing art when I lost the passion for it when our mother left. Odasaku mended so many petty arguments between me and my best friend. Odasaku was the best person I knew, and he deserved so much more time than he had. If I could have taken his place, I'd do it in a heartbeat." 

Dazai somehow made it through the last of his little speech without sobbing, and wiped his face in another futile attempt to dry it as he returned to his seat, refusing to glance at the casket, and training his gaze on the ground, letting the tears drip onto his trousers as he ignored the rest of the funeral. 

Eventually he became somewhat aware of people leaving, and Mori's disappointed sigh telling Dazai he could get the bus back if he wanted to stay for the wake. 

He didn't want to, but he didn't say that, just letting Mori and Elise leave, staying sitting on the pew, until he was the last person left. 

But then, he lifted his head, and Ango sat next to him, sighing. 

"That was a very lovely speech. Thank you." Ango said, his voice a little hoarse. 

He looked unbelievably wrecked, like half his soul had died with Oda. But he didn't look sick the way he did last time Dazai saw him.

He didn't look particularly sleep deprived, or like he might faint. He looked like he was learning to live again, and doing a decent job at it. 

"It's fine." Dazai responded quietly. 

Ango looked up at the stained glass windows of the church, and the sunlight streaming in. 

Dazai followed his gaze, looking at the panes with little emotion, the carefully crafted angels not sparking to curiosity or intrigue they might normally have. 

"One of Oda's friends had started the same course as Oda and met him after his husband had committed suicide before his cancer was to take him out. His name is Mushitaro." Ango said, unprompted. 

"He's very nice. We've become friends now." Ango looked down again, fiddling with a silver ring around his ring finger, running his finger over the band. 

Dazai's eyes fell to the ring, and he felt his stomach drop. 

"...What's that." He asked emptily. He didn't want to know. He already did. 

"Engagement ring." Ango answered, his voice heavy with grief. 

"I never got to actually ask. I assume he would have said yes." 

Dazai felt sick again. Of course Oda would have said yes.

They could have gotten married.

He looked back at the floor, wanting to disappear. He wondered if he'd ever feel happy again. 

"I forgot you used to call Oda that. I know he'd be proud of you, seeing you up there speaking so nicely even though everything." 

Dazai nodded. The words were stuck in his throat, he didn't think he'd be able to speak if he tried. Not that he wanted too. 

"Come to the wake and have something to eat. You can sit with me." Ango offered. 

Dazai wasn't in the position to argue, so he just nodded numbly, following Ango. 

He managed to get to know some of Oda's friends while he ate. He didn't have much, before he ended up silently crying himself to sleep against Ango's shoulder, but he wasn't woken, left to sleep peacefully. 

Ango had carried him to the car, and driven him home, waiting and let him wake up on his own accord, sitting a little way down the street from his house. 

The grief weighed on his shoulders as he get home late in the afternoon, crashing into his bed as soon as he could. 

He was done crying. He just wanted to sleep.

---

Chuuya sat in his bed with his laptop open, a movie running as he watched, unimpressed, as the main character got scared over a rustle from the trees. 

Horror movies were stupid. 

What was actually horrifying, was the scrunched up paper balls scattered across his floor from the early hours of the morning, and the abandoned attempt at trying to mold his feelings into words cohesive enough to count as poetry. 

And the fact he hadn't heard from Dazai all day.

Which was probably more concerning than the impact his paper consumption rates would have on the environment. 

With the thousandth reminder he hadn't heard anything from Dazai all day, he sighed heavily, pausing the movie and picking up his phone, wasting no time as he went to Dazai's contact and hit the dial button.

Dazai blinked blearily in the dark of his room as he was pulled out of his troubled sleep by a random taylor swift song playing from his phone. He picked it up, squinting in the light of his screen as he recognised Chuuya's caller ID. 

"...Hello?" He mumbled groggily as he sat up and answered the call. 

Chuuya could have melted in relief, tension melting from him as he heard Dazai's hoarse and tired voice. 

His next thought was internal panic, as his face went bright red at the sound of Dazai hoarse and tired voice. 

"Dazai. I haven't heard from you all day, you didn't come over." He said quickly, clearing his throat to hide his fluster. 

Dazai let out a long breath as he heard Chuuya speak, rubbing his eyes and yawning. 

"Yeah, sorry I was busy. I wasn't at school either. I was..." Dazai hesitated. He couldn't just admit where he was. That would mean telling Chuuya Oda died. He wasn't ready. 

He wasn't sure which part of him had decided he wasn't ready, or that he could hide it. But he wasn't going to admit it easily. 

"I was looking after Elise. She wasn't feeling well, and Mori was working. I stayed home to make sure nothing happened cause her fever was bordering dangerous this morning. She's fine now." 

Chuuya blinked, feeling a pang of concern shoot through him. 

"Oh, that must have sucked. I'm glad she's okay. It's good you stayed with her if Mori was gone. Honestly, Mori should have have stayed in my opinion." Chuuya remarked, irritation seeping into his tone on the last sentence. 

Mori was irresponsible when it came to his kids, from what Chuuya could gather. If he could get Dazai and Elise to live with him, he would. He'd even share his room with Dazai.

He'd have to get used to it if he wanted to marry Dazai anyway 

Dazai hummed tiredly. He just wanted to go back to sleep honestly. His eyes still hurt from crying so much. His arms burned with a need for pain, but he was too lazy to get up. 

...

Lazy maybe wasn't the best word. Even he could admit that at this point. 

He wasn't lazy. Just depressed. So, unbelievably, depressed. 

"Mori probably should have stayed, but he has more important things to do. I was super tired and have just slept most of the time since about three pm anyway." He explained a little, getting up to change into something more comfortable to sleep in. 

He could at least do that. 

Chuuya nodded, despite the fact that Dazai couldn't see him, able to hear Dazai moving about. He wasn't sure what to say, and instead he just closed down his laptop, getting up himself to put it on his desk. 

He turned his light off as he settled into his bed, listening to Dazai move on the other side. 

Dazai settled back into bed now he was slightly more comfortable, curling up in the mess of pillows and blankets, pulling one tightly around himself. 

"I'm bored. Chuuya, tell me a story." He said, intending to sound whiny and annoying, and instead, he cursed the way he sounded tired and childish. 

Chuuya was slightly surprised by the raw emotion he heard bleeding into Dazai's tone, and his brain went blank for a second, before he stopped, sighing and trying to think. 

"Uhm... once upon a time, there was a prince. And that prince was the most prettiest and handsomest in the land." He started slowly, thinking. 

Dazai scoffed, feeling tiredness creeping up on him again as he listened. 

"Chuuya is getting awfully self obsessed. 'Prettiest and handsomest'?" He asked, smiling a little. 

"Do you think I'm not pretty and handsome?" Chuuya asked accusingly. 

Dazai giggled. "No, that's not what I said. You're a rather pretty slug." 

Chuuya went quiet. Then, he shook his head, and continued his story. 

"The prince's name was Dazai." 

It was Dazai's turn to be quiet, his cheeks going pink as he buried himself under his blankets, voice muffled as he spoke demandingly. 

"Continue."

"Rude." Chuuya muttered under his breath, but he continued, tilting his head as he thought. 

"While on a trip with his family, the prince met a pretty mermaid. They had long hair that the prince loved to sit and braid, and they had eyes the prince would compare to the ocean, or the sky." 

Dazai hummed, nodding along as he listened, liking this story. Clearly, in his mind, he could envision a pretty mermaid with blue eyes and long ginger hair, very obviously Chuuya. 

He could imagine, him, a prince, standing on the pier, offering forks or hairbrushes in return for seaglass and trinkets from shipwrecks. 

He let his eyes fall closed, listening as Chuuya continued to speak softly. 

"The mermaid really liked the prince. And the prince really liked the mermaid. But the prince was hesitant, not wanting to disappoint the king and queen." Chuuya continued his story, enjoying it more than he thought he would have. 

"After the queen disappeared one day, the prince decided to follow the mermaid into the water, being granted a temporary metamorphosis to be able to survive. As it turned out, the mermaid was a member of the mermaid royalty, who was able to grant the prince a tail forever, if he were to wish." 

"When the prince got to the castle, he found his mother there, safe and happy, living in a luxurious room in the palace. He decided on the spot to change into a mermaid himself." 

Chuuya paused in his story, realizing Dazai hadn't said anything for a while. He went quiet, listening. 

And as he listened as closely as possible, he heard Dazai's quiet and steady breathing, a faint snoring to be heard. 

Of course. He'd fallen back asleep. 

Well, the rest of his story was rather useless. But he smiled, shifting to go on his phone and open social media. 

He didn't hang up, letting the call continue as he scrolled through his Instagram feed. 

They could just both sleep like this. Like they were together, the regular sound of Dazai's soft snores luring Chuuya closer and closer to unconsciousness as well. 

He smiled softly, struggling to stay awake. He glanced over to where he knew his desk was in the dark, guilt shooting through him for a second. 

He shook it away. This was what he wanted. Regardless of anything he wanted this. Sleeping on a call with Dazai, because there's no way to sleep better.

Chapter Text

Chuuya groaned and sighed, stretching his arms as he walked across the grass to his lunch spot, following Dazai, who was a few steps ahead of him, kicking a rock. 

He ran a second to catch up, reaching Dazai's side as Atsushi greeted them with a smile, him and Akutagawa the only others there. 

“Hey guys,” Dazai said with a yawn, sitting down. 

Chuuya joined him, not wasting any time before pulling out his lunchbox and handing half a sandwich to Dazai. 

“You seem exhausted.” Atsushi commented jokingly, sitting with his own food. 

Dazai sighed dramatically, crossing his arms and speaking with a mouthful of Chuuya's sandwich. 

“I am. I got woken up at four am because certain breeds of dog don't bark, and actually snore. Loudly.” He said dryly, pointedly glancing at Chuuya. 

Chuuya scowled, cheeks slightly pink. 

“You could have hung up.” He pointed out, glaring at Dazai.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Dazai responded, waving him away dismissively. 

“I do what I want.” 

Chuuya rolled his eyes, choosing to focus on his lunch, and not Dazai's stupidity. 

It was funny. Even after fully admitting he likes Dazai, nothing much had changed. He's still annoyed at him, insulting him, and just secretly admiring him.

Speaking of, Dazai was wearing his glasses today, the black frames complimenting his dark hair and pale skin. 

Why did he always look so pretty? 

As Chuuya stared, Ranpo, Yosano and Kunikida came over, Ranpo talking to them both animatedly. 

With that Chuuya snapped out of his temporary stupor, instead blurting out the first thing that came to his mind.

“So Dazai- your birthday is on Monday.” 

Dazai grimaced, and sighed dramatically. 

“Indeed it is. Regretfully. You know, forever 15 is a nice line for a gravestone. It's a bit unoriginal though, I'd prefer ‘never 16’.” He said in a contemplative tone, instantly getting six glares trained on him. 

“Don't joke like that.” Kunikida said, a hint of worry in his tone, masked by annoyance. 

Dazai stuck his tongue out, pushing the sandwich half he had barely eaten into Chuuya's hands. 

“...Not hungry?” Chuuya asked, frowning. 

Dazai shrugged, playing with the string of the hoodie he was wearing. 

“Not anymore.”

Chuuya paused, looking at the sandwich, then quickly turned back to his lunchbox and pulled out a cereal bar, looking at Dazai with a hint of smugness. 

“You said you'd eat cereal bars if I had them, if you weren't very hungry. Well. Now I have one.” He said proudly. 

Dazai blinked in surprise. 

“When did I say that?” He asked sceptically, not moving to take the offered food.

“Ages ago. I can't remember exactly, it was during prelims I think.” Chuuya answered, throwing it at Dazai's chest, watching him pick it up and examine the back.

“Please eat that. At least.” He added, slightly more apologetically. He knew sometimes Dazai just wasn't hungry. But there had been one too many lunches with barely anything eaten for his liking recently. 

Dazai smiled and elbowed Chuuya, ripping open the packet. 

“I suppose, since my dog will keep whining if I don't. He's being dramatic, one lunch skipped is no big deal.” 

Dazai must have been blind if he missed the multiple looks of concern being worn by his various friends. 

Dazai must have also been stupid if he thought anyone believed that this was the first time he had skipped lunch. Or that lunch was the only meal he'd skipped. 

It was like Dazai had taken a sharp decline recently. 

Or like he'd gotten worse at hiding it. 

Starting with the meltdown last week, and now noticeably not eating.

What happened. 

Who happened. 

As Dazai slowly picked at the bar, Chuuya tilted his head. 

“Dazai.” He said, grabbing his attention. 

Then, he grabbed Dazai's wrist, lifting his hand up. His fingers closed around his wrist, and Chuuya was careful to angle his hand to allow for the older few of the rest of their friends to see. 

Then, he twisted his hand, smiling and pressing their palms together, carefully inspecting the size difference. 

“My hands are still bigger than yours.” He remarked, his face slightly warm. 

Dazai had stopped, sitting still, his mouth slightly open and his face red. 

“Your fingers are longer then mine though.” Chuuya continued, shifting so their fingers lined up, and indeed, while Chuuya's were thicker, Dazai's were thin and long. 

Chuuya already knew this. 

But he wasn't passing up the opportunity to sit and compare hand sizes with his not quite newfound crush, even if the original motivator was grim. 

“You'd think that yours would be bigger because-” Chuuya died internally for second, “you're taller than me, but no… I think you'd play an instrument, like violin or piano, very well.” 

Chuuya felt like he might throw up, his face red and his stomach turning, butterflies having a nervous breakdown in his intestines.

What was he saying? Why was he saying this? He'd never say this??? What was wrong with him???

Dazai looked like he had stopped working, breath stolen and face red, unable to process anything that was going on, other than a simple ‘holy shit holy shit holy shit’. 

They were both still for a second, until Chuuya had enough, slapping Dazai's hand away and crossing his arms, wishing he could sink into the ground. 

“...Chuuya is giving me mixed signals, if he's in love with me he should just say that.” Dazai said after a second, voice mostly normal, aside from a slight tremor. 

Chuuya's face flared red, and he huffed, rolling his eyes. 

“Of course I'm not. Why would I be in love with a mackerel bastard like you.” He said, lying through his teeth. 

“Aww, Chuuya's so mean!” Dazai whined, throwing an arms around Chuuya's shoulders and leaning against him, speaking next to his ear. 

“I wouldn't even make fun of him! You clearly love me if you're so intent on forcing me to do silly things like eat cereal bars and go to school.” 

Chuuya groaned, making a show of attempting to push Dazai off of him, not really trying. 

He could easily get Dazai off him if he wanted too, and the not fully there weight of Dazai's body told him Dazai was aware of this as well. 

“Get off me prick, I don't need to be in love with you to want you to be alive tomorrow.” He refuted, scowling, his cheeks pink. 

Dazai pushed Chuuya slightly, and Chuuya looked to glare at him, his breath catching and eyes widening as he realised that their faces were centimeters apart. 

“Come on Chuuya… Admit it, you love me. You want to marry me and be my dog for life!” 

Chuuya swallowed thickly, the only thing holding him up being his own arm from how far back he was leaning. 

“I do not want to be your ‘dog for life’.” He said firmly. 

“You didn't say you don't want to marry me though.” Dazai pointed out, that stupid grin on his face, that stupid look in his eyes like he knew exactly what he was doing, the stupid look that proved he was anything but stupid.

“You wanna kiss me so bad right now.” Dazai teased with a smile, cheeks flushed and hair falling in his face, his glasses slipped slightly down his nose. 

God Chuuya wanted to kiss him.

“...And what if I did?” Chuuya snapped back, his eyes narrowed with flustered irritation. 

Dazai's eyes opened wide, like he wasn't expecting that response, his mouth falling open, his eyes dropping to Chuuya's lips in a way that made Chuuya's stomach twist in apprehension.

“I doubt I'd stop you.” Dazai responded, trying desperately and still failing to sound teasing. 

Chuuya hesitated, and then took a sharp breath, struggling to get his response out in any kind of coherent manner. 

“Your soulmate might want to stop me. They'd probably have a problem with it.” 

Chuuya instantly cursed himself internally. 

Of all things he could have said. 

Dazai backed up quickly, clearing his throat. 

“Yeah. Chuuya's such a slimy slug anyway. Kissing him would be horrible.” He said, looking away. 

“My soulmate might have a problem with me kissing you as well.” Chuuya added shortly. 

Dazai hummed absently. 

“Maybe.” 

They fell into an awkward silence, both well aware of the slight distance between their bodies, the pointed lack of contact in contrast with their usual near full body touch.

Chuuya picked at his trousers, playing with the trouser seams, the quiet between him and Dazai suffocating. 

His eyes fell to the bandages Dazai was playing with, and a realization struck him, making him pause. 

“How are you going to see your soulmate mark if you're wearing bandages all the time anyway?” Chuuya asked, curiosity overwhelming his embarrassment. 

Dazai tensed up and froze, staring at the bit of bandage at his wrist he had been messing around with. 

“Would you just take them off? Or would you check when you're going to bed?” Chuuya pressed, tilting his head. 

Dazai cleared his throat, and then shrugged awkwardly. 

“I haven't thought about it. I guess I'll figure it out when it happens.” Dazai responded emptily. 

“Oh.” Chuuya said, a little disappointed. Honestly, he had hoped Dazai would take the bandages off for a little while after his birthday. 

After all, they weren't really there for a specific reason, other than his skin sensitivity. If Chuuya was in his shoes, he'd probably want to be able to see the second that his soulmate mark appeared. 

Dazai stood up suddenly, and grabbed his bag. 

“I don't feel great, I'm going to go to the nurse’s office and see if I can get sent home.” He said quickly. 

Chuuya blinked up at him, and then went to pack his lunch away.

“I'll come with you.” He offered, but he was shot down quickly. 

“No thanks. I'll be fine, just stay here.” Dazai said, and before Chuuya could object, Dazai was hurrying away.

Chuuya watched him leave with furrowed eyebrows and a look of concern, seeing him disappear into the doors of the school without looking back. 

Then, he turned back to his friends, the older of which, Yosano, Kunikida, and Ranpo, moved closer, like they knew what was coming. 

“Did you see that?” Chuuya asked, a hint of disbelief in his tone. 

“My hand went right around his wrist. No problem.”

“This issue clearly isn't a new one. Were we blind, or was he just good at hiding it? You don't get to that point after skipping lunch a few times a week.” Kunikida said, frowning deeply.

“He doesn't eat breakfast, either.” Ranpo added. 

“Does that mean the only meal he eats consistently is dinner?” Yosano asked in disbelief. 

“Which he probably only does at my house.” Chuuya responded, sighing and running a hand through his hair. 

They went quiet for a few moments, thinking.

“...How do we fix it?” Kunikida asked quietly. 

“I don't think we can.” Chuuya said with a sigh. 

“There's clearly something bigger going on. But currently, Dazai is skin and bones, and we don't know whether he's actively deciding to starve himself, or whether it's just happening thanks to some kind of aversion or something like that.” 

Yosano nodded slowly, and hummed. 

“We just need to try and… encourage him, I suppose.”

“Carry around snacks or something.” Ranpo suggested.

Chuuya nodded, wincing slightly as a slight burning sensation started on his arm, but ignoring it. 

“Yeah. Like the cereal bar. He ate that, albeit hesitantly.” Chuuya said, glancing at his lunchbox, most of the contents untouched. 

“I normally have something for him to eat. It makes sense if the rest of you start carrying something simple too. Just offer him something if you notice he hasn't eaten for a while.” 

He sighed, biting his nail anxiously. 

“I don't want him to get sick just because he can't eat for some reason.” He added quietly. 

Kunikida sighed, pushing his glasses up his nose bridge. 

“None of us do.” He said softly. 

“But you, of all people, know Dazai won't take help easily. He certainly won't ask for it. This is probably the best we can do.” 

Chuuya nodded, going to rub his arm, grimacing at the burning feeling but not looking, more distracted by looking in the direction of where Dazai had left.

Yosano took his arm sharply a second later, and Chuuya yelped, and then looked, watching a few of the fading lines suddenly change shades, going to a deeper blue. 

Like the wounds were being torn open again. 

There was a collective intake of breath.

Suddenly Ranpo was on his feet, face pale, he was already pulling out his phone, and he grabbed his bag as he ran in the direction of the school, tripping and almost falling in his haste.

Just as Ranpo disappeared and Chuuya was about to start asking questions, the school bell rang, signaling the end of lunch, and there was no more time to ask questions.

—

Chuuya sat at the table, picking at the pasta in front of him halfheartedly.

He had long given up on the sleeves. 

The only person who hadn't been told was Kyouka, and she was at her friend's house.

It was quiet at the table, his parents already finished eating and sitting in the living room, and Kouyou had her headphones on, watching something she needed for her course apparently. 

The pasta was really good, but he just wasn't hungry, pushing it about on his plate, not really thinking about anything, yet somehow managing to be overwhelmed with thought at the same time. 

He felt slightly sick, just tired and worried about Dazai. He hadn't heard from him since he went home, despite messaging him multiple times. 

His gut was telling him that there was something wrong.

He wasn't sure how, he just knew something bad was going to happen- he had a sense of impending dread, he supposed. 

He sighed, and shifted, leaning against the back of his chair and dropping his cutlery, staring up at the ceiling for a few minutes, breathing slowly and carefully. 

Then, there was a sudden sharp pain in the side of his neck. 

Unable to help himself, he screamed, curling in on himself instinctively, holding his hand over the side of his neck where it hurt.

Kouyou jumped, looking up, and Chuuya just whined, closing his eyes tightly as the pain didn't stop, different to anything he'd experienced before.

Quickly Kouyou was at his side, worry painted across her features as she held onto Chuuya's wrist, the other hand on the side of his face. 

"What?! What's wrong?!" She borderline screamed, panicked, eyes wide and fearful as Chuuya shied away from the touch, wincing and biting into his lip in an attempt to distract from the pain. 

Chuuya's parents were the next over, and Kouyou stepped away to let them in, watching in horror as Chuuya's parents tried to speak to him

"Hey, what's wrong, what's wrong?" 

He wasn't sure which of his parents asked it, he just fell into the open arms of his mother, hand still tightly closed over his neck, chest heaving and eyes closed tightly as he tried to figure out what was going on. 

"My neck! It hurts- I don't- I don't know!" He managed to get out after a few tries, breathing quickly and heavily. 

"Let me see, let me see it." His mother said, attempting to be soothing, but her own panic clear in her tone. 

Chuuya didn't want to, but he pulled his hand off his neck, instead holding onto his mother's t-shirt, his eyes tightly closed as he heard the gasp his sister let out. 

"Chuuya, don't panic. There's nothing wrong with you. It hurts, but you're okay." His father said, his hand landing on his back. 

"Chuuya- where's your soulmate? Do you know?" his mother asked, voice quiet and fearful. 

Chuuya felt the dread pool in his stomach. 

"No, I don't." He muttered, pulling away, and he scrambled to his feet, running to the bathroom as the pain began to fade. 

His parents were close behind, and he could see their pale and worried expressions behind him in the mirror. 

But that wasn't what he was focused on. 

Instead, he was focused on the wide blue lines across the left side of his neck, deep, and reaching to the front of his throat. 

Instantly, he felt the nausea creeping up on him, making his eyes water and the back of his throat burn.

His eyes stayed glued to the blue lines until he couldn't focus them anymore, and instead he turned to the toilet, dropping to his knees quickly and leaning over it as he gagged, throat burning as he threw up, eyes watering and hands gripping onto his trousers like his life depended on it. 

His mother came in and pulled his hair out of the way, rubbing his back, and Chuuya didn't even notice but he was crying, having a full blown panic attack as he sat shaking, crying and throwing up in the bathroom floor.

"Is he dead? Is he dead? That's what this is- he's tried to kill himself again?" Chuuya asked pleadingly when he stopped gagging, wiping his mouth with his sleeve, knowing he'd regret it the second he was thinking clearly, but he didn't care right now. 

"I don't know honey, I don't know, I'm sorry." His mother said, her voice breaking as she pulled him into a hug, holding him tightly, like he might shatter. 

"I don't want him to be dead- he can't be dead- I- He can't-" Chuuya gasped out, voice hoarse and scratchy, tears soaking his cheeks. 

"He's not dead- I don't think he's dead." Kouyou says quietly from the doorway, coming further into the room and sitting in the floor next him. 

Making a spilt second decision, Chuuya moved from his mother's arms to Kouyou's, and she held him even tighter than his mother had, unafraid of hurting him. 

"A man in my class, his soulmate died a week ago, from cancer. For as long as I knew him, he always had marks on his hands out arms from his soulmate having blood drawn. I haven't seen any of those marks since his soulmate died. If he was dead, I think they would fade." Kouyou explained shakily, somehow the calmest in the room.

"But how long does it take to fade? He could be dead and it's just not fading yet!" Chuuya countered, and Kouyou shook her head. 

"I don't know." She said quietly. 

Chuuya cried harder, and she took a deep breath.

"Listen. We can go put on a movie, and just see. If they fade, then we'll know. Otherwise, we can assume he alive." Kouyou reasoned. 

Chuuya paused. Then, he nodded. With a shaky voice, he said one last sentence. 

"Please. Let him be alive." 

---

Dazai had put Elise to bed early. 

She wasn't happy about it, but Mori got in from work just as Dazai had been patting down her bed for her, so she hadn't complained, and just did as she was told. 

But it must have been quiet for hours now. 

Well. Maybe not. Half an hour, probably. 

But still. She was cold, and wanted the bathroom. 

Quietly, she moved out from under her covers, her baby pink princess nightdress falling around her knees as she softly opened the door. 

She walked across the hall to the bathroom, wrinkling her nose at the sudden smell that hit her. 

Like iron, and something unpleasant, and tangy. 

She stuck her tongue out and shook her head in exaggerated disgust, before she heard a sound from her father's room, and she froze, staying still for a few seconds until she as confident it was safe. 

Maybe she wouldn't flush the toilet when she was done just to be safe. She didn't want the noise.

Then Dazai would get blamed though.

...But Dazai got in trouble a lot anyway. And he always handled the hits a lot better than she did. He would tell her to blame it on him maybe. 

Shaking her head and getting back to her original mission, she approached the bathroom again, the smell getting stronger and overwhelming, making her feel a little sick. 

The door didn't have a lock anymore, but it was late and quiet, she was confident there wouldn't be anybody in. 

She pushed open the door, and she got hit by a wave of the sharp iron smell, her eyes widening as she caught sight of the scene before her, the cause apparent. 

Oh right. 

Blood smells like iron. 

As she processed the sight before her, Dazai in the bathtub with a shiny silver scalpel in his hand and blood down his front, still weakly pulsing from his neck, she was silent, hand holding tightly onto the door handle. 

Then, she took a deep breath, and screamed.

Chapter Text

“Dazai!” Ranpo called out, banging the bathroom door open. 

Dazai cursed under his breath, pulling his feet up onto the lid of the toilet he was sitting on, his bandages loose around his arms, toilet paper pressed against his inner arms to attempt to staunch the bleeding. 

"I'm not stupid. I know you're in here." Ranpo said, and Dazai could see his shadow move across the floor, approaching the stall he was hiding in. 

"You and Chuuya- and honestly most people we know- always seem to end up here when something goes wrong. And there's only one other person in here with me, Dazai." Ranpo continued, stopping outside the door.

Dazai debated saying something for a second, then sighed quietly, watching the blood soak through the tissues pressed on his arm. 

"Go away Ranpo. I'm fine." He said, and Ranpo huffed dramatically. 

"No you're not. Open the door." 

"I'm bleeding." Dazai protested, more as a warning than a complaint. 

"I know that. I watched the marks on Chuuya's arms get deeper as you scratched them open, I assume?" Ranpo asked, and Dazai grimaced, looking at the blood drying under his fingernails.

"It was an accident. I ripped them through the bandages." He muttered quietly.

"Do I need to get Yosano?" Ranpo asked. "Or a first aid kit?"

Dazai shook his head before remembering Ranpo couldn't see him, and then he breathed out shakily.

"No. It's okay. I didn't get the bad ones, just some of the more superficial ones. They just bleed a lot." 

Ranpo was quiet for a moment, and Dazai watched him rock back and forth on his feet, before Ranpo stopped, and walked away. 

A tap ran for a second, and Dazai sighed. 

He leaned forward, slipping the lock on the door open. A few moments later and Ranpo pushed through it, locking it behind him and holding out damp paper towels. 

Dazai took them begrudgingly, dropping the bloodied ones in his lap, and pressing the wet ones against his arm, the cold water relieving the itchy and burning sensation on his arm.

"We were talking about you, you know." Ranpo said, tone distant. 

"You have people worried." 

Dazai scoffed, and rolled his eyes. He knew that. He didn't need to be told. But concern wasn't going to stop him. 

"Worrying isn't going to do anything. I'll be fine." 

"No you won't be." Ranpo countered easily. 

"Dazai, has your Dad hurt you recently? Physically. Don't lie to me." 

Dazai blinked, taken aback. He had alluded to things like that... but he didn't expect to be questioned outright.

"Does it really matter?" He asked dismissively, cleaning the blood from his arm now most of it had stopped. 

"Yeah. It does." Ranpo responded, crossing his arms, and tilting his head thoughtfully. 

"I said I'm not gonna tell, and I'm sticking to it. But tell me. You'll be sixteen in literal days. You can move out. If you move out, and can gather evidence of abuse, you can get Elise and take her with you." Ranpo said, his tone slipping into something more pleading. 

"I know you. You antagonise him. You can't be doing that if he's physically hurting you Dazai. It's not safe. You're going to get hurt." 

Dazai frowned, and he just rewrapped his arm, staring at it instead of Ranpo, refusing to look at him. 

"I don't care." He said quietly, keeping his tone carefully blank and level. 

"Attention is attention." 

Ranpo didn't have a response for that, just standing with his mouth fallen slightly open, a hurt expression on his face. 

"Dazai-" 

Ranpo cut himself off. 

With Dazai like this, refusing to look at him, blood stained bandages around his arm, and a look akin to shame on his face, there was no point pushing. 

Instead, his clenched his fists and took a deep breath, trying to stay as calm as he could. 

"Dazai. Please. If something happens, tell me. I'm your friend." Ranpo said quietly. 

Dazai stayed quiet, looking at the floor. 

Ranpo hesitated, but then he stepped forward, and before he could change his mind, his arms were around Dazai's shoulders, clinging onto him tightly. 

He was scared. So unbelievably scared. He knew that there was a chance he could wake up in the morning and one of his best friends could be dead. 

But he couldn't tell. He wouldn't. Don't ask why. He just couldn't. Every sight of a tired and hurt Dazai, who complains about his father, or his misfortune, or his grades, reminds him of a smaller, green eyed version of the same person. 

One who got saved.

And the hurt fourteen year old still in him screamed for secrecy. 

He was sure Dazai was clinging onto every trace of the same. 

So he wasn't going to break that. Not yet. 

Dazai had frozen, surprised, and he politely refrained from touching him back, just letting Ranpo cling to him like he was scared Dazai would disappear if he blinked.

After a few seconds, Ranpo stepped away, clearing his throat. 

"Go home, Dazai. Have something to eat, and a nap or something." Ranpo said, standing up straight and looking down on Dazai, trying to regain his usual arrogant and uncaring air. 

Dazai smiled a little, just a small quirk of the lips, but he nodded, and stood up, collecting the bloody tissues and stuffing them in a bin. 

"Okay, okay." He agreed. 

Ranpo nodded back, and paused for a moment, before quickly turning away, pretending to not need to wipe his face as he unlocked the door again, and leaving quickly. 

Dazai sighed, his shoulders slumping as the door closed. 

He pulled his hoodie on to cover his arms, and picked up his bag, leaving himself. 

He glanced at his reflection in the mirror as he passed, hardly recognising the pale and tired face that stared back at him. 

He looked at the blood under his nails, and he swallowed, his mind wandering, returning to the pocket behind the drawers of his desk. 

Maybe death was like sleeping.

---

The wind cut across Dazai's face as he stared out at the sea, hair blowing into his face with every gust, dangerously close to the edge of the cliff given the strength of the wind up here. 

The drop to the rocks below was dizzying, and he absently wondered what would hurt if he jumped. 

What he might hit on the way down, if he'd die before he hit the water. If the tide was lower, would he land on the beach? Would he be found before shock killed him if he managed to survive the fall? 

A seagull cawed somewhere overhead, while Dazai's gaze stayed transfixed over the edge of the cliff. 

He could frame it as having slipped. 

Then, a voice called out his name, and the warmth of the sun on his face flooded back in, the bright and clear sky appearing blue again, and he could hear the chatter rising from the beach a few metres further along. 

A child screamed, and he spotted a set of siblings splashing in the water, one being soaked relentlessly. 

He looked up, and turned, to see Chuuya standing back on the path, a wide smile on his face, the wind blowing his hair around his face despite the clips Dazai had watched Chuuya struggle with earlier from his spot on Chuuya's bed, Chuuya sitting in front of the mirror with a face of determination.

“Dazai!” Chuuya shouted again, before jumping out of the way of a man on a bike. 

Thinking it was better to get out the middle of the path, Chuuya quickly walked closer to Dazai, staying a little further away from the edge.

Carefully, Chuuya stood on his toes, peering over the edge and grimacing. 

“...That’s a drop and a half.” He muttered, steadying himself again and grabbing Dazai's arm, pulling him back from the edge. 

Dazai didn't resist, letting Chuuya pull him, but smiling teasingly. 

“What, did you think I was gonna jump?”

Chuuya looked at him oddly for a second, tilting his head. 

“Jump? Why would you jump? That would hurt, and it'd probably kill you. You might fall though.” 

Dazai blinked a few times, considering the bluntness of Chuuya's question, and looked back at the edge. 

…It was a good point. Why would he jump? Did he even have a reason?

Shaking the thought away, he made a lurching motion towards the edge, despite being far enough away that if he fell there would be no danger of falling off the cliff. 

“Stop!” Chuuya yelled anyway, yanking Dazai even further back and glaring at him.

Dazai laughed, and then pulled his arm from Chuuya's grasp, and made a pushing motion, and Chuuya screamed, hitting him away. 

“Dazai- stop!” He shouted, glaring, and running back to the path. 

“Fuck you!” He yelled, crossing his arms. 

“I guess I won't show you the thing I found then!” 

Dazai blinked, glancing back at the cliff edge for a second, before following Chuuya. 

“No, no! Show me!” He demanded, and Chuuya, who had no genuine intention of not showing Dazai, grabbed his hand, pulling him and running along the path.

Dazai started laughing as they ran, passing Chuuya's parents and little sister, Kouyou still down at the beach with their things. 

Chuuya was laughing too, pulling Dazai along faster, until Dazai stumbled, falling and hitting the concrete path roughly, causing Chuuya to fall as well. 

Dazai groaned, sitting up and grimacing at the familiar burn of scraped knees and elbows. 

Instantly a nearby adult was rushing over, but Dazai looked to Chuuya first, who was sitting and staring in surprise at his bleeding knee, and when Chuuya looked up, meeting his eyes, they both just burst out laughing.

A stranger quickly kneeled down, her daughter standing next to her and clinging to her. 

“Are you two okay?” She asked, looking between both Dazai's grazed knees and Chuuya's one. 

“Where are your parents?” She asked quickly, barely letting them answer the first question before she opened her bag for some tissues, pressing them against Chuuya's leg first, as it was bleeding more. 

Chuuya just pointed down the path to where his parents were coming around the corner. 

“There's our parents, we're okay, really.” Chuuya said, still smiling, and Dazai raised an eyebrow at the use of ‘our’ but he was perfectly happy to not correct it. 

The lady smiled at that, glancing over at Chuuya's parents.

“Okay, that's good.” She said with a sigh of relief, guiding Chuuya to hold the tissues over his knee. 

Then, she took another one, wiping the blood from Dazai's right elbow, because of course the time he doesn't have bandages covering his entire arm is when he falls. 

Her daughter was young, four or so, and she reached to pat Dazai's head as though to comfort him, and Dazai giggled, high on adrenaline and giddy from the sudden pain. 

Chuuya's dad came over, kneeling down and sighing fondly. 

“You two are idiots,” he said, ruffling up Chuuya's hair. 

“What have we said about running while holding hands? You're going to fall. You'd think with the amount of times you've done this you'd learn.” He chastised gently. 

Prepared for this eventuality, Chuuya's dad pulled out a box of plasters, helping Chuuya wipe up the last of the blood, and smoothing a plaster over the area that was bleeding the most. 

He then turned to Dazai's knees, and the other woman handed him another tissue, and Dazai just sat and watched as his knees were wiped, and deemed not deep or bleeding enough to require plasters. His elbow, however, got a blue plaster with a butterfly on it, to match Chuuya's orange one with a giraffe. 

When they were all patched up, Chuuya's dad stood up, and sighed again. 

“Right troublemakers, you're good to go. Don't fall again please, I'd prefer no hospital trips.” 

Neither Dazai or Chuuya needed to be told twice, jumping up and joining hands again. 

Dazai was able to catch a snippet of the conversation Chuuya's dad and the lady with her daughter were having. 

“So, are those your kids huh?” 

“Yeah. Trouble, the both of them. Keep me and my wife on our toes, hahaha. Love them to bits though.”

“Ah yeah, I have two sons as well-” 

Dazai had stopped, looking back as he heard Chuuya's dad so casually refer to him as his kid as well. 

It made a part of him ache, like he knew he was missing something, and he was longing for it so desperately. 

But then Chuuya yanked on his arm, and they were running again. 

“Hey! What did your father just say?! No running!” Chuuya's mother shouted after them in a futile attempt to control them, but Chuuya just ran faster, and this time Dazai kept up. 

The path split into two different ways a little further down, and while Dazai had been expecting to continue on the right, going along the cliff edge, Chuuya pulled him to the left and onto the dirt path, towards the wooded area near the park. 

However, instead of following along it, Chuuya stopped, looking for a gap in the fence. 

When he found it, he pushed through it, and Dazai followed without question. 

Here it was quieter, and the wind wasn't as strong, and occasional breeze brushed past them instead, the sun still shining down on them. 

Chuuya guided Dazai down into a small ditch, and Dazai spotted it, a small burn, and a spot Chuuya had clearly already been, dead bramble pushed to the side to create a clear patch of dirt near the water for them to sit. 

Most importantly, there was a strawberry bush, growing wild down the side of the hill, early strawberries ripe despite it still being the middle of summer.

Chuuya led him to the bush, and grinned proudly, picking a berry and handing it to Dazai. 

“I found this all by myself.” He boasted, picking another for himself.

“...Wow.” Dazai said with awe, looking around and biting into the strawberry, humming as the juice filled his mouth. 

Chuuya smiled brightly, the sun falling across his face, dappled by the leaves of the bush. Dazai's gaze was torn from the sun on the water to Chuuya's face, the shadows falling on his face like they were placed by an artist.

“Do you have your camera?” Chuuya asked suddenly, tilting his head. 

“Did you really just ask that?” Dazai responded with disbelief after a moment, pulling out a small digital camera from the pocket of his shorts. 

“We left our phones with Kouyou, I was just wondering whether you left your camera too.” Chuuya said with irritation, but he quickly dropped it, smiling again.

“Take a picture!” He ordered, and Dazai turned the camera on quickly, shifting to angle the camera so Chuuya was portrait in the frame, smiling widely, with his eyes squinted shut slightly from the light.

Dazai's breath caught, and he snapped the picture, lowering the camera again with red cheeks. 

Chuuya reached out to take the camera, and turned it on Dazai.

“Smile!” 

Dazai was too distracted, and the first picture Chuuya took, Dazai was looking at Chuuya, not the lens, eyes slightly wide and face still flushed. 

The second one, he did actually smile, but he didn't take his eyes off Chuuya, or the way his eyebrows were furrowed and his nose was scrunched up as he focused on angling the camera right. 

A few moments later Chuuya handed the camera back, and Dazai looked down at the picture of himself, eyes glittering and cheeks flushed as he smiled at something- someone- just past the camera. 

When he looked back up, Chuuya was fiddling with his hair, and he sighed dramatically as he pulled the last clip out. 

“Dazai, do my hair.” Chuuya said before turning around and tilting his head back. 

Dazai blinked in surprise, and then groaned with fake annoyance, carding his fingers through Chuuya's messy hair. 

“There's hardly anything to do, it's still too short.” He complained.

“Do those two braids, the french braids on either side.” 

“I thought those were too ‘feminine’ for you.” Dazai asked, a little teasing. 

“Shut it. They're pretty.” Chuuya snapped back shortly. 

“Okay, okay! I'll do them.” Dazai agreed, parting Chuuya's hair.

He sighed softly, feeling the sun on his skin, the still present sting of his knees from falling over, and the smell of the sea on his clothes. 

He felt comfortable, he felt home. 

Chuuya jerked forward, his carefully parted hair falling from Dazai's hands as he moved. 

“Is that a blackberry bush?!” Chuuya asked loudly, jumping up and attempting to jump over the river, failing and slipping in. 

“Chuuya!” Dazai yelled, both in exasperation and concern, and Chuuya whined from the water, sitting in the running stream. 

“It's cold, it's cold, it's cold!!!” He yelled, scrambling to get up and shake off the water.

Dazai smiled at Chuuya, trying his hardest not to laugh too hard, lest he slip down the slope himself. 

He loved the summer like this.

—

At the edges of Dazai's consciousness, he heard an ear splitting scream, breaking into uncontrolled sobbing.

And then he woke up, squinting under bright fluorescent lighting, an infuriating beeping in her ear, his mouth dry, and neck hurting like he'd snapped it. 

It was bandaged, thick and tight, he realised as he tried to move, while his arms weren't, and he felt the panic well on his chest. 

He tried to sit up, trying to move and finding his wrists bound somewhere at his sides, and an attempt at a kick found his ankles fastened too. 

Naturally, he pulled, kicking and fighting, tears welling in his eyes as he couldn't say anything, thrashing and fighting as he struggled to breathe, the beeping increasing in tempo as he struggled. 

Then, he was slapped, and he froze, eyes focusing, and he realised he was looking up at the ceiling, recognising medical equipment in the corners of his eyes, a heart monitor and an IV drip. 

The monitor slowed for a second, until a familiar figure with dark hair stepped into view, skyrocketing again. 

"You're going to end up even worse if you don't calm down." Mori said, stepping out of Dazai's sight again, the fear shooting through him like ice cold water in his veins. 

He wanted to say something, but he wasn't going to try moving again, he'd freak himself out again, and he couldn't even open his mouth to attempt speaking. 

"This little stunt of yours really scared your sister." Mori said casually, coming back into view again, a vial and syringe in hand. 

"You should have heard her screaming. She's staying with Ango right now. Poor thing had to be pried off you. She got herself covered in your blood." 

Dazai watched with wide eyes as Mori inserted the needle into the vial, measuring out whatever was inside. 

At the mention of Elise he felt his stomach turn, guilt making him nauseous as he remembered the scream, and the crying.

"Ango knows of this little trick now too, unfortunately. He was distraught. First your brother, now you? How would he have coped, I wonder. Though, not much would have been lost if you had succeeded." Mori continued, holding the syringe up to the light and flicking it, pushing out any air bubbles. 

Mori walked to stand beside the bed, leaning over him. He held out his hand with a smile, and Dazai's breathing picked up, shaky and erratic. 

"Arm, please?" Mori asked, and then he stopped himself. 

"Ah right. The restraints. You're a rather volatile patient to work with. I had a nurse fetch them while you were still out." 

Mori grabbed onto Dazai's upper arm, and Dazai tried to pull away, kicking and thrashing as he tried to get away from Mori and his needle, but Mori had a firm hold on his arm. 

However, Mori did let go, sighing in irritation as Dazai squirmed. 

"Idiot, this is intravenous, I can't inject it if you're not holding still." Mori spat out with annoyance. 

Dazai pointedly looked at the IV stand, and Mori sighed. 

"It's not been inserted yet, it's for after I've done the stitches for your neck. Because you're volatile and likely to find a way to rip it out, even if you are bound." 

Dazai glared at Mori, he hated that. He's not angry. He is not a volatile person. He doesn't lash out for no reason. He doesn't know why, but he doesn't just do it for fun.

Mori just went for Dazai's arm again, and Dazai, again didn't let him. He wanted to know what it was. He wouldn't just let Mori inject him with no explanation. 

This time, however, Mori just sighed again, and pressed a call button. 

Dazai felt his heart leapt into his throat. 

Fighting and pulling at the straps holding his wrists and ankles down, he struggled, tears pooling in his eyes. 

He attempted to shake his head, and instead let out a silent scream of pain as he felt whatever wound he had inflicted on himself start bleeding again. 

The door of the room he was in burst open, and seconds later there were multiple sets of heavy hands holding him down, looking up to see multiple men, holding his shoulders, arms and legs. 

Any panic he was feeling before tripled, and he struggled against them, unable to do anything more than squirm slightly under the painful pressure, chest heaving with silent sobs as tears spilled down his face. 

There was a pinch of pain as Mori pricked the needle into Dazai's skin, and Dazai just closed his eyes tightly, tense and still as he gave up fighting, the nurses not letting up their holds.

Only when Mori pulled away, and signalled to the nurses they could leave did any of them let go, and Dazai just stared at the ceiling with tears in his eyes, the imprints of the hands that had been holding him down lingering on his skin, making him want to puke. 

Mori moved to his left side, and Dazai felt more than saw as the bandages around his neck were pulled away, relaxing a little despite himself now the pressure was off his neck. 

"You're lucky I hold so much sway in this place, or the word of your attempt would be far and wide." Mori said, his voice cold and clinical as Dazai felt him press gauze against the side of his neck. 

"If it wasn't for me, you'd be spending your birthday in a psychiatric ward." Mori continued, and Dazai didn't look at him, just curling his fingers into a fist. 

Mori hummed for a second, reaching for some things. 

"You lost a lot of blood. You'll likely need a transfusion once you've been stitched up. You've only been here for twenty minutes at most." 

"You were nowhere near deep enough for a successful suicide. Barely deep enough to cause muscle damage, nevermind slice your jugular, which is what I assume you were aiming for." 

"Though, judging by your arms, trying to slice your arteries there didn't work either. Change your mind halfway through?"

Dazai clenched his jaw, wincing as the movement sent pain lacing through his neck. 

"Deep enough for stitches, and a few lovely scars though. I suppose if Elise hadn't found you, you might have bled to death..." Mori said, a thoughtful tone to his voice.

"Which reminds me-" He added, smiling at Dazai sickeningly. 

"I thought I told you not to make a mess? I hope you'll enjoy cleaning that when we get home. You're not getting that scalpel back if this is the consequences, I really didn't want to be in the hospital tonight. And Elise is going to struggle to recover from this, of course." 

Dazai wanted to say something, anything, just to get Mori to stop talking, but he still couldn't speak, a complete roadblock in place, and his limbs felt heavy, like there was a weight settling in his bones. 

He felt ridiculously tired, his brain slowing as whatever sedative Mori must have given him kicked in. 

"This game of yours is getting boring, Dazai. It's rinse and repeat. I thought when you threw yourself in the river and discovered drowning wasn't as painless as you thought it would be, you'd get bored quickly.

If you keep going like this, I might have to believe you're actually suicidal. Self harm is one thing, but an intent to die? I'd need to medicate you. After all the work we've put into your future, it'd be wasteful to have you die." 

Dazai turned his head slightly to glare at Mori through blurry and unfocused eyes, black creeping at the corners of his vision. 

"I wonder how Chuuya would feel knowing all the things you've hid from him." Mori mused aloud. "Would he be sad? Angry? I wonder if he'd still talk to you." 

Dazai shook his head weakly, but he was so tired, and his eyelids felt weighted with lead as he struggled against the sedative. 

Mori sighed, checking his watch, clearly just waiting for Dazai to fall asleep. 

"We have a name for a patient like you, in psychiatry. Or anywhere, really." 

He tilted his head, studying Dazai with a calculating expression. 

"You're a 'revolving door patient'. The kind that doesn't get better. You leave out the door, and come back in a few moments later as you never step out from the doorway." 

"I doubt you'll live for long on your own. No amount of help can fix some issues. Normal is something you'll probably never know." 

Dazai felt his bottom lip tremble. Of course he know what a revolving door patient was. But to hear it.

Of course he'd never get normal. Misery is attracted to him like a magnet. Normal wasn't something people like him were allowed. 

Dazai might have been going insane, but for a second, Mori's expression softened, as though for a second he was seeing someone other than Dazai.

Because why would Mori ever look at him like that? Like he was soft. 

Mori moved to brush Dazai's hair out his face, and Dazai flinched, but Mori persisted, smoothing his hair with a slight hint of remorse behind the dead look in his eyes. 

"...Go to sleep Dazai. If we get this done quickly you can go to school tomorrow." Mori said, voice soft in a way that made Dazai hate him even more, and his eyes well with tears, and most horrifically, made him want to reach out and bury himself in his dad's arms like he belonged there.

But of course he didn't. 

Still, as Mori tucked his hair away once more, he let his eyes fall closed, being pulled into unwilling unconsciousness as he heard a few last words. 

"You can sleep, Osamu." 

Chapter Text

Chuuya fell asleep some time after three am. 

The bruises that appeared over his skin, and the sudden pains through his neck over the night didn't do anything to quell the increasing and sickening anxiety he was riddled with.

But through all of it, he got up. 

He got off the couch, detangling from his place squashed between his mother and Kouyou, and he brushed his teeth, then his hair, and got dressed, finding use for the choker Dazai had bought him for his birthday, carefully positioned over his neck to hide the blue lines.

He just got ready as normal.

Quietly, slowly, numbly, but he was alive. 

And he wasn't sure if he could say the same for his soulmate.

He left earlier than usual, breathing in deeply in the slightly chilly air, the breeze a relief, and instead of walking to school, he turned the opposite way, walking in the direction of Dazai's house. 

He stopped as he came to a small bridge over a river, a footpath, no cars nearby. 

It was quiet, the world seemingly asleep aside from him, the birds and the river the only things audible for once. 

He stood at the railing, and crossed his arms, leaning his cheek on them, watching the water trickle over the rocks, down with the curve of the earth, out to the sea, eventually. 

The quiet was refreshing, a moment to himself with the morning sun warming his back through his shirt, his hair blowing in the breeze. 

He blinked lethargically, the sound of quiet footsteps making him raise his head, and Dazai stopped next to him, leaning his elbows on the railing as well, his hands dangling over the edge.

They didn't say anything for a few seconds, and Chuuya instead just looked at Dazai, who looked dead on his feet. 

He was pale, dark circles and red under eyes, his lips bitten so hard that there were red marks where his teeth had sunk in. 

Chuuya was sure he didn't look much better. 

But Dazai managed to pull it off with a kind of grace you wouldn't expect from him, and Chuuya was almost jealous of how effortlessly good he seemed to look, even while appearing half dead.

"You look tired." Chuuya said quietly, and Dazai turned to look at him, the sun catching his face, lighting his eyes to look almost red. 

"I feel it." Dazai responded, voice hoarse and scratchy, but he smiled slightly, looking at Chuuya in the same light, the way his hair was messy despite his attempts to tame it, the way he rested his face on his arms, and the way his eyes were squinted slightly in the sun. 

Chuuya paused, going quiet, debating his next words, looking at Dazai carefully, hair falling in his face. 

“My soulmate tried to kill himself again. I don't know if he's alive this time.” He admitted quietly, the words like lead on his tongue, forcing him to choke around them. 

“He's alive.” Dazai said, voice devoid of emotion, and he turned to look down at the water, eyes tracing a leaf from upstream as it floated along idly. 

“How do you know? What if he isn't?” Chuuya asked, lifting his head, looking at Dazai with a hint of hope. 

“You wouldn't have the marks anymore. They would have disappeared within a few minutes.” Dazai said, expression softening as he kept looking away, eyes distant, like he wasn't quite there, watching something else. 

Chuuya felt some of the tension drop from his shoulders, but the look on Dazai's face didn't give him the reassurance he might have gotten if he looked more reassuring. 

Instead, Dazai just looked tired. 

“...Something up?” Chuuya asked cautiously, careful to not come off as pushy. 

Turns out he didn't need to as Dazai just hummed, and shrugged, then his breath hitched, and he winced at the movement. 

Quickly, before Chuuya could ask, he spoke, avoiding any other questions by answering Chuuya's first one. 

“I'm just tired. Really tired. I just want to sleep until the summer.” 

Chuuya sighed. 

“Dazai… You said the same thing in February. It's May. It's pretty much the summer already.” 

Dazai swallowed, looking down at his hands, chewing on his lips. 

“I know. Maybe until june. The holidays, you know? We can have week long sleepovers, and go do stupid shit again.” Dazai said quietly, not meeting Chuuya's eyes. 

Despite the relatively clear sky, it started to rain, thin and light, but catching the sun and causing ripples in the water.

“...We can't sleep for a month.” Chuuya said, shifting his tone to something more firm. 

He pushed himself away from the railing, turning and facing the sun, shaking his head and tilting his face to the sun. 

He sighed in the warmth, and closed his eyes for a moment. 

He heard a faint ‘click’, and when he turned around, Dazai was standing with his little digital camera, pointed at Chuuya. 

Dazai lowered it, checking the picture and Chuuya smiled, his cheeks going pink as he looked at the expression of concentration as Dazai analyzed the picture. 

“Hey,” he started, and Dazai looked up again, still looking distinctly tired, and Chuuya frowned a little. 

“On your birthday, we'll go get slushies or ice cream or something. Go sit outside the pretty library.” He said, running through things they could do outside their usual. 

“We can find something worth being awake for.” 

Dazai stared at Chuuya, eyes glittering from something other than the light, and he cleared his throat. 

“That sounds alright.”

Suddenly Dazai stepped forward, and Chuuya was pulled into his arms. Chuuya didn't hesitate in hugging him back, squeezing him tightly. 

Dazai was shaking slightly, and Chuuya just rested his cheek on Dazai's shoulder, face turned into his neck, nose wrinkled at the strong smell of antiseptic. 

Then, Dazai pulled him down, and they were sitting on the little bridge, tucked in at the side and holding each other tightly in their arms. 

Chuuya held onto fistfuls of Dazai's shirt, and he closed his eyes tightly, and he whispered something against his neck.

“We'll stay awake together. At least a little longer.” 

Chuuya felt the motion of Dazai nodding and taking a shaky breath, his chest shuddering with the force of it. 

If they ended up being late to school, neither of them particularly cared. 

—

Ranpo appeared out of nowhere, startling Chuuya, who hid his surprised jump by rolling his eyes. 

“You need to stop sneaking up to people like that. You're gonna give someone a heart attack.” Chuuya said, sitting down in his usual lunch spot. 

“I don't think I will.” Ranpo responded distractedly, looking around.

“Where's Dazai?” He asked, and Chuuya raised an eyebrow, pointing in the direction of the school. 

“Speaking to our art teacher. His final isn't finished yet, and they're supposed to be submitted soon.” 

Ranpo hummed, furrowing his eyebrows, looking serious. 

“Somethings wrong with him, what is it.” Ranpo demanded to know, and Chuuya looked at him, frowning. 

“What do you mean? Aside from his eating, all I can think of is he seems depressed as shit. But that's normal, I suppose.” Chuuya said, sitting up straight. 

“Why?” He asked, tone taking on a slightly more concerned hint.

“How's Oda doing?” Ranpo asked instead, sounding extremely worried. 

Chuuya sighed, and shrugged. 

“I don't know. I didn't know I was supposed to be worrying about Dazai's brother.” 

“Yeah, well look at this.” Ranpo said, kneeling next to Chuuya.

He turned his phone around, opened on Facebook, and on a recommended post, in bold letters there was an obituary. 

For Oda Sakunosuke. 

Chuuya felt sick, leaning forward and taking Ranpo's phone from his hand. 

His eyes narrowed in on the date of the funeral, clear on the post. 

May 14th. 

“...Dazai was off school that day. He said Elise got sick.” Chuuya said quietly, handing Ranpo his phone back. 

“Why didn't he tell me?” 

“Why didn't he tell anyone.” Ranpo corrected, frowning down at his phone. “Nobody knew. Aside from you and I, still nobody knows.” 

“He probably didn't want anyone to worry.” 

Chuuya struggled for words for a second, feeling hurt and a little betrayed.

“But- That's bullshit!” He exclaimed. 

“His brother, who I know, and my sister used to be good friends with, died, and he didn't think to tell me?! Maybe invite us to the funeral?”

“Chuuya, I don't think it's particularly fair to-” 

“No! I think I have a right to be upset about that! He's not just no told me, he's lied to me.” Chuuya said, scowling. 

“He's lied to all of us. That's what Dazai is. A liar.” Ranpo said blankly. 

Chuuya scowled.

“Don't talk about him like that.” 

Ranpo scoffed, and rolled his eyes. 

“I'm not being malicious, I'm being factual. Dazai is a liar. Not because he wants to be, but because of self preservation.” Ranpo explained, plainly and blankly, as he properly sat down in front of Chuuya.

Chuuya glowered, because deep down he knew Ranpo was right.

Dazai was a liar, Dazai got defensive, Dazai got avoidant. 

Still, Chuuya couldn't help but feel betrayed, weirdly hurt over the realisation Dazai hadn't told him.

He had known Oda, viewed him as family for years when he and Kouyou had been friends. He felt so unbelievably crushed by the knowledge he had died. 

“The point stands. Something is seriously wrong with Dazai this time. I don't know what, and it's driving me insane. Figure it out.” Ranpo asked, voice slightly pleading.

“Between us, we can work it out. Find something to solve it. He needs help. You're not stupid Chuuya. His Dad has done something, I'm sure of it.” 

Chuuya felt guilty and sick as Ranpo accused him of his suspicions towards Dazai's dad, but the fact Ranpo shared them was even worse. He bit on his thumbnail, then shook his head. 

“Hold on, what even brought this on? What's thrown you into such a fuss now of all times?” 

Ranpo blinked a few times, looking confused. 

“Have you not noticed?” He asked, tilting his head. 

“Obviously not if I'm asking.” Chuuya responded with irritation. 

Ranpo rolled his eyes at Chuuya's tone, but explained anyway. 

“He's not let a single person touch him all day. To the point he was noticeably jumping out of the way of people. The only time he did, was Kunikida, who held his arm to pull him out of the way of those new transfer students coming down the hall- one of them is blind, and Dazai was right in the way of his cane- and Dazai looked like he might have thrown up.” 

Chuuya frowned. 

“He had no problem with me touching him earlier. In fact, he hugged me first. And we were holding hands when we walked to school too. I didn't realise that could have been an issue.” 

Ranpo blinked a few times, then sighed, not annoyed, but not amused either. 

“Of course he was letting you touch him, you're not the same as me, or Kunikida.” 

“What's that supposed to mean?” Chuuya asked quickly, getting defensive. 

“It's supposed to mean that you're obviously-” Ranpo cut himself off, then cleared his throat. “You're friends in a way that's slightly different to everyone else. Kind of like how Kunikida and Yosano are friends.” 

Chuuya raised his eyebrow, but let it drop, and sighed. 

“Okay. The point being, he's more jumpy and skittish than usual, and you think his Dad has done something.” He asked for confirmation. 

Ranpo nodded. 

“I need you to keep an eye on things. Because I have a really bad feeling. Just- if something happens, tell me.” Ranpo said, standing up again.

Chuuya didn't like this, the responsibility of having to look out for Dazai, when he wasn't sure what he was looking for, or how to know, but he wasn't going to not.

How could he? 

That's his best friend, above all else. 

“Okay.” He agreed, and Ranpo sighed. 

Then, Ranpo produced two lollipops out of nowhere, threw one at Chuuya, and walked away. 

Chuuya sat with the lollipop, slightly bewildered, but he sighed, and just put it with his lunch, and ran a hand through his hair. 

This was so complicated, so upsetting, and he was so lost. There was nothing to be done, yet everything could be done, and he didn't know anything. 

But he was supposed to know everything, apparently. 

He put his head in his hands. 

This was already a long day. 

—

Dazai had went straight home after school. 

Reluctantly, Chuuya had informed Kouyou and his parents of the news about Oda. 

Kouyou had retreated to her room. She hadn't left for a few hours. His parents had lit a candle, and set it next to a picture of a smiling young Kouyou and Oda, being left to burn out. 

Chuuya stood in his room, thumb hovering over the dial button for Dazai's number. 

With a shaky out breath, he pressed the button and placed it to his ear. 

Within two rings it was picked up, Dazai's voice hoarse and quiet on the other end. 

“Chuuya? What's up?” Dazai asked, sounding a little tired. 

*Why didn't you tell me?” Chuuya asked right away, knowing he'd never bring it up if he didn't get straight into it. 

“...Tell you what?” Dazai asked, suddenly sounding a lot clearer. 

“About Oda.” Chuuya responded, clearing his throat. 

“You didn't tell me he died.”

There was a sharp inhale of breath from the other side, and Dazai scrambled for an explanation. 

“I- It was sudden, and I just didn't know how to say it, and you're so busy with your soulmate-” 

“Dazai, shut up.” Chuuya snapped, voice hurt and angry. 

“I'm sorry.” Dazai said, voice panicked. 

“No- God Dazai.” Chuuya groaned, rubbing his face. 

“Stop. I don't care. Just- I'm sorry about your brother. I'm so sorry. I know how much he meant to you.” Chuuya said, trying to keep his voice as comforting as possible. 

This was not the time to be upset at Dazai. It was Dazai's brother. But that didn't stop the feeling of betrayal at not being told- at being lied too. 

Dazai was quiet for a moment, before he spoke. 

“I can hear it in your voice. You do care. Because I didn't tell you.” Dazai accused. 

Chuuya sighed, but decided to be honest. 

“Yeah, you know what? I do care. I mentioned Oda a few times, and you never thought to mention the fact he passed. I asked if you were alright, and you said you were, despite the fact your older brother died.” 

“You didn't invite me, or more importantly, my sister, who used to be one of his best friends, to the funeral. I'm pretty upset. Not to mention the fact that suddenly I'm being made aware of the fact that someone that I once upon a time looked up to has died.” 

“I do care. Because you seem not to. I'm sorry your brother died. I really am. You should have told someone, instead of hiding it from everyone you know as though it wouldn't be found out eventually.” 

When Chuuya finished, he was breathing heavily and tears were pricking in his eyes, but he stood his ground, until Dazai spoke softly. 

“...I’m sorry.” He said quietly. 

Chuuya took a shaky breath, and shook his head, despite the fact Dazai couldn't see it. 

“Don't be. It's too late now. He was your brother. I'm sorry he died. I'm sorry if I made you feel like you couldn't tell me.” 

It was quiet for a few seconds, until Dazai spoke again. 

“Was that all you wanted?” 

“...Yeah.” Chuuya admitted, standing awkwardly in the centre of his room, in his pyjamas, with toothpaste still on his tongue. He had been getting ready for bed before he called. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, voice quiet. “Please be honest.” 

Dazai sighed, long and slow, and then answered. 

“I mean. Not really. But I'm getting over it.” Dazai said with a resigned tone to his voice. 

Chuuya swallowed, and nodded. 

“Okay. That's good I guess.”

…

“Should I go now?” Dazai asked tiredly. 

“No.” Chuuya decided, turning off his light amd climbing into bed. 

“You're sleeping on call with me.” He decided. 

Dazai scoffed as Chuuya put his phone on his bedside table, plugging it in to charge. 

“Such a demanding doggie…” Dazai grumbled, and Chuuya ignored him. 

“It's your turn to tell a story.” Chuuya said, settling under his covers and stretching a little. 

Dazai groaned, but after a seconds pause, he started speaking. 

“In a distance universe, jumping through timelines, there was a man, with hair like fire, and eyes like sapphire, and he was powerful.” 

“Is this supposed to be me?” Chuuya interrupted with a yawn, feeling tired after the horrid night prior. 

“Just listen!” Dazai whined, and Chuuya scoffed at his tone, but was quiet. 

“The man had a superpower, a special ability like no other, the ability to control gravity. He could fly, he could make other people fly, and change the weight of the objects near to him.” 

Chuuya hummed. He quite liked the sound of that. He'd never be scared of heights like that. 

“This story sounds awfully familiar.” He commented, fighting off tired eyes. 

“Shhh,” was all Dazai responded with.

“He had a superpower so powerful he was one of the most successful criminals in the world. He was a leader in a mafia, with a detective rival. He and the detective rival had been partners, years before, but they split after a series of unfortunate events.” 

Chuuya raised an eyebrow at the criminal bit, but he was so tired. He just let his eyes fall closed, listening to Dazai speak. 

“They worked together closely for years until the split, and when they reunited, it was like nothing had changed. They worked together as before, only this time, an understanding had been reached. That regardless of anything, they could trust the other. That things would always work out in the end.” 

Dazai paused in his storytelling, curling up tighter on himself, listening closely, and then a faint snore came from the other side of the line, and he smiled a little, listening to the small sounds.

“Sleep well Chuuya,” he whispered, pressing the button to hang up. 

Then he sat up, grabbing his first aid kit and going to his mirror, pulling off the blanket covering the glass.

He had wounds to keep clean.

—

Saturday afternoon, and Chuuya was pouring over a poem, wanting to tear his hair out.

Next to him were two carefully wrapped presents, using the same constellation wrapping paper Dazai had gone insane over the past two years. 

Little details Chuuya held onto that should have made him realise he loved Dazai long before he did. 

On top of the two presents was an envelope, a slight bulk in the paper he smiled at knowingly. 

Then he looked back at the poem, and wanted to bash his head down on the table. 

Moving his head to his hands, Chuuya took a deep breath, before picking up his phone, pinging a message to a very specific groupchat. 

FishViewers

You all bought your tickets right :SLUG!

RAN<3: Who do you think we are? 

KUNIK: I ensured that everyone did that a few days ago, all tickets have been bought and transportation has been arranged. 

You lot are lifesavers :SLUG!

That said if Dazai finds out I arranged this y'all are gonna be blocked :SLUG!

This is a surprise and y'all know he will be asking about it shut the fuck up nobody spill unless you like having your lives ruined :SLUG!

MISSY: wow, he's even spelling everything correctly

Ihdate you yoanso :SLUG! 

RAN<3: spoke too soon lol 

Now.

Chuuya is a lot of things. 

But one thing he refuses to be, at least when it came to Dazai, was a loser. 

Therefore, this specific bit of Dazai's birthday? 

This has been planned for weeks. 

So Chuuya backed out the chat, and opened his messages with Dazai, grinning as he typed it out. 

09:23

Oi whh the fuck didnyou habg up? :SLUG!

MCKRL: you snore :P

15:37

Bus station, tomorrow, 10am. Bring your camera, and a jacket. Look nice :SLUG!

Chuuya smiled proudly, as Dazai's typing bubble popped up almost instantly. 

MCKRL: what? what's happening?

MCKRL: why?

just be there :SLUG!

MCKRL: okay

MCKRL: WHY 

:) :SLUG!

Chuuya smiled, and turned, looking at the outfit he had picked for the next day, then glancing back at Dazai's presents. 

Despite everything, he was determined to make tomorrow a good day.

He turned back to the poem, groaning loudly again. 

This was agonising, however. 

Still he picked up his pen, reworking the words for the hundredth time.

Chapter Text

"He's going to be late... you should have told him to be here five minutes ago that way when he showed up now he wouldn't have missed the bus." Kunikida said, his arms crossed, but an anxious crease in his forehead Chuuya had learned to pick out. 

"Kunikida, the bus isn't even here yet. We have time, and I doubt he's going to be late for this." Chuuya said, trying to be reassuring. 

"There's another bus in another hour anyway, if we do miss it, it's not the end of the world," Yosano added, stepping up beside Kunikida and taking his hand. 

Chuuya furrowed his eyebrows in confusion at the interaction, and the small exchanged smiles between the two, not having a chance to ponder what that meant before he was interrupted.

"So, maybe you could explain where we're going?" Dazai asked, finally arriving, and Chuuya turned around with a wide smile, faltering as he actually looked at Dazai. 

Dazai had clearly taken the time to put effort into his appearance, his hair was fluffy and pinned behind one of his ears, he had his glasses on, and he was wearing a pair of tan trousers, with a dark brown jumper on, a collared shirt visible beneath.

Chuuya stared, Dazai's browns and tan an obvious contrast to his own grey jeans and radiohead t-shirt. He looked so nice, put together and clean, ditching the usual scruffiness. 

"Where's all your emo gone?" Yosano asked as she came up beside Chuuya, scrutinizing Dazai's appearance. 

Dazai smiled, and shrugged. 

"I was told to look nice. Most of the clothes I had were Chuuya's, so I decided to find something that actually belongs to me for once. Aside from the jumper, that's Chuuya's." He explained, glancing at Chuuya, but then directing his attention back to Yosano. 

"Why, does it look bad?" 

Yosano shook her head, looking slightly impressed. 

"No, it suits you. Not that the dark colours don't, but this is very nice on you." She said, and Chuuya yelped as she elbowed his ribs, and he startled, blurting out his words. 

"You look good. Really good." 

He cleared his throat, and then he glared at Dazai. 

"Amazing how much of a change your appearance takes the second you start wearing your own clothes, huh?" He asked, and Dazai grinned, having the decency to look somewhat guilty. 

"I like your clothes better than mine, what can I say?" 

Chuuya was floored again, and internally cursing himself over and over, so he rolled his eyes, stepping forward to grab Dazai's hand, and just drag him to the rest of their friends. 

"Most people are here, Kunikida, Yosano, Ranpo, Atsushi, Akutagawa... The lot." Chuuya said, pulling Dazai over to the bus stance. 

"You have your bus card, don't you?" 

Dazai nodded, and pulled his wallet out of a bag Chuuya didn't notice, slung over his shoulder mindlessly. Dazai's eyes shifted to their friends in their group, and he smiled a little. 

"You never said they were gonna be here. You know, you could have warned me it was going to be a seven person outing." He said, but he was smiling slightly. 

Chuuya shrugged. 

"I could have, but then you probably wouldn't have put in so much effort." He pointed out. 

Dazai opened his mouth to protest, before thinking it over and conceding the point. 

"I suppose. I'm not particularly bothered about impressing any of them." He said, slipping his wallet into his pocket, his bus card in his hand. 

Chuuya raised an eyebrow, smiling slightly. 

"But you are bothered about impressing me?" He asked, tone a mixture of disbelief and teasing. 

"You're the one most likely to ruthlessly make fun of me if I'm not dressed to your standards. Alas! I got a compliment a few minutes ago!" Dazai said, a wide teasing smile on his face, cheeks slightly pink. 

"You said I looked good, do you know how revolutionary this is?! Me, getting anything other than a vague threat or backhanded insult? From you?" 

"Okay! Okay! I get it!" Chuuya grumbled, pushing Dazai. 

Just then, the bus pulled into the stance, the driver quickly switching with another, and Chuuya caught the sight of Kunikida scowling at his watch. 

Chuuya then took Dazai's hand and grabbed his own bus card.

Quickly, Chuuya got them their tickets, and they practically ran to the top of the bus, going right to the front, claiming the two front seats with the big window. 

"So... Where are we going?" Dazai asked again, as their friends chatted happily behind them, getting their own seats. 

Chuuya shook his head. 

"You don't get to know." He responded, grabbing his own bag and opening it, fishing around for his headphones. 

"Does everyone else know?" Dazai asked, and when Chuuya nodded, still fighting for his headphones, he let out a betrayed gasp. 

"What?! You've wounded me! You went behind my back!?" He whined in mock betrayal, before turning around. 

"Akutagawa! Where are we going!" Dazai demanded to know, and Atsushi audibly slapped his hand over Akutagawa's mouth. 

"Sorry Dazai, but we're more scared of Chuuya than inclined to tell you." Atsushi apologized while Akutagawa fought with his hand. 

"Ew!" Atsushi yelled as Akutagawa gave up on dignity and licked Atsushi's palm, glaring at him as Atsushi fought to wipe his hand on Akutagawa's coat. 

"Don't touch me so brazenly jinko." Akutagawa said with a wrinkled nose. 

"Besides. I wasn't going to share. I believe it would be better if Dazai found out for himself."

How much of that was Akutagawa's own decision, or a result of the glare Chuuya was sending over the seat, Chuuya couldn't care less. 

Dazai however, had moved onto the bizarre nickname. 

"Jinko?" Dazai asked curiously. 

"And weretiger." Atsushi added sullenly, crossing his arms.

Akutagawa took on a suddenly somewhat prideful expression, smiling slightly. 

"He likes tigers, and said if he could be like a werewolf, but only a tiger, he would be quite happy to live somewhere rural to be able to move freely." 

Atsushi groaned, covering his face with his hands as he turned bright red in embarrassment, curling in on himself. 

"Stop! That makes it sound weird!" Atsushi pleaded, the shame clear in his voice. 

"Now now Atsushi." Dazai said in a firm and parental tone that made Chuuya pause, until it morphed into something more teasing, and all Chuuya felt was sorrow for the kid. 

"Being a furry is nothing to be ashamed about. We're you're friends, and we love and support you regardless-" Dazai said with a grin so wide his face hurt, before he got interrupted. 

"I'm not a furry!" Atsushi yelled, making Kunikida and Yosano, who were sitting behind him, burst out laughing. 

"It's okay, Atsushi... we'll be here when you're ready to tell us." Dazai continued solemnly, reaching to ruffle Atsushi's hair. 

Then the bus started, and Dazai yelped, almost falling, and Chuuya quickly grabbed Dazai's arm and pulled him down to sit in the seat. 

Dazai jumped and pulled himself from Chuuya's grasp quickly, eyes wide and breathing quick already, like he had been suddenly dropped in the middle of a panic attack. 

Chuuya panicked himself for a second, and spoke, returning his hand to Dazai's arm, but not holding it, just touching him slightly. 

"You're going to fall if you're not careful. And stop terrorising Atsushi. He's going to wake up in cold sweats dreaming of this moment for the rest of his life." Chuuya said, speaking clearly and deliberately as Dazai relaxed again quickly. 

"But that's my job, to mortify Atsushi. He's not experienced enough gut wrenching embarrassment in my opinion." Dazai said, sighing and leaning against Chuuya. 

"I think the fact I'm an orphan should give me a pass from incessant bullying from my own friends." Atsushi chimed in from behind them. 

"What're you gonna do? Tell your parents?" Dazai asked, and there was silence from their little group as the joke sunk in. 

"...Dazai." Atsushi said quietly, voice slightly strained. 

"...Yes?" Dazai asked tentatively. 

"...That was kind of funny." Atsushi said, and Chuuya watched the relief on Dazai's face. 

"God Atsushi you nearly gave me a heart attack I thought you were upset!" Dazai complained.

Instead of answering, Atsushi just laughed behind them, and Dazai shook his head. 

"You see that? The disrespect. He shouldn't treat his elders that way." Dazai grumbled overdramatically, and Chuuya rolled his eyes. 

"You're barely older than him. You're only old enough to be his brother." Chuuya pointed out, his headphones in his hands with his phone.

Dazai hummed, his eyes going to Chuuya's hair. 

"Do you plan on leaving your hair down today?" Dazai asked, and Chuuya blinked. 

He had been. But if Dazai was looking for something to do with his hands, which he likely was, given the slight shake to them, then he could hardly refuse the opportunity. 

"I think a ponytail would be nice. something simple." 

"A ponytail with a little braid at the side to go into it?" Dazai asked to compromise. 

Chuuya sighed, pulling a hair tie off his wrist and nodding.

"Okay, you can do a braid." He agreed. 

Dazai smiled softly, moving away from Chuuya, and they adjusted themselves in the familiar way, so Dazai could reach Chuuya's hair.

Wordlessly, Chuuya put an earbud of his headphones in, passing the other to Dazai, and let his music play as Dazai messed around with his hair to pull it up. 

It proved a challenge with the movement of the bus, but after a few tries, Chuuya felt the final tug of his hair through the tie, and a few moments later, Dazai had his arms around his shoulders from behind. 

"Thank you." He said quietly. 

"What for?" Chuuya asked, sitting back against the seat again. 

Dazai pulled away and shifted to just lean against him, looking out of the window. 

"Don't make me say it." 

Chuuya smiled a little, then took Dazai's hand, squeezing it slightly. 

"I won't." 

---

The bus ride took longer than Chuuya thought it would have, only getting to the stop as it neared twelve. 

Dazai groaned, whining. 

"That was so long! Why did we have to travel for so long, I'm sure whatever you were looking for could have been found in Yokohama." 

Chuuya sighed in irritation, pulling Dazai along. 

"The train would have taken half an hour, but the train is expensive. The bus might be long, but none of us can drive, or have the money for two train journeys." He responded, and Dazai went quiet, seeing the point. 

"I guess. Though, why are we here? I don't recognise this city." Dazai asked, looking around a little hopelessly. 

Chuuya had actually been careful with this. Dazai was a freak at memorizing directions, so he was careful to pick a place that he was positive Dazai had never been.

...That had meant studying google maps to know where he was going, but it was worth it, as he pulled Dazai into a sharp right. 

Then, he covered Dazai's eyes, to which Dazai tensed up, holding onto Chuuya's hands tightly, but he didn't complain. 

He led Dazai into the middle of the parking lot, letting their friends wait and he took a deep breath, smiling, and he uncovered Dazai's eyes, watching as they opened wide. 

"Happy birthday!" was cheered from Chuuya and the small group of people behind him, as Dazai stared, dumbfounded, at his friends. 

"...what?" Dazai asked helplessly. 

"Welcome to your surprise birthday party." Chuuya said proudly. 

"You've never had one before, and I decided that needed to change." 

Dazai hesitated, glancing up at the sign, 'aquarium' written in bold letters.

"You didn't stop chirping on about wanting to go to one of these for a fee months, so we figured that it was a safe place to go." Chuuya said with a wide smile. 

Dazai quickly pulled his camera from his pocket, fiddling with it with shaky hands, and he took a picture of his friends all lined up in front of the aquarium, large smiles and a look of pride on most of their faces.

Dazai looked at the picture, then up again, looking a little lost.

"Why though?" He asked, still confused.

“What do you mean ‘why’?” Chuuya asked, rolling his eyes, and grabbing Dazai's hand, pulling him the rest of the way to their group of friends. 

“Because you're our friend, and we wanted to do something nice for you. It's not that hard to understand.” He said, leading Dazai to the doors of the aquarium, pushing them open, and smiling at him. 

“It's not some mega elaborate plan to make you indebted to anyone. We just thought it'd be cool to throw you a proper birthday party, with everyone.” 

Dazai still seemed surprised, but he smiled, and tilted his head. 

“I suppose that explains the super long bus ride. And everyone knowing other than me. And the instructions to look nice…” He trailed off, and groaned.

“How did I not guess!” 

Chuuya grinned proudly. 

“There was a lot of planning done to ensure you wouldn't be able to figure it out ahead of time. Everyone was pitching in with ideas to make it less obvious.” 

Dazai scowled, but he was practically radiating excitement. 

“Ah, so everyone was just teaming up on me then? No concern for how I would feel about being so blatantly betrayed?” He said, faking hurt, while Kunikida was over at the desk organising their tickets with the receptionist. 

“Well, you can feel betrayed from the ground outside if it's that big of a deal. Or, you can come and visit your family with us.” 

“My… family?” Dazai asked, confused, before he realized. 

“Says you- I'll drop you off at the vet on the way back. You need to be put down.” 

Chuuya scowled, and elbowed Dazai in the ribs.

“I'd like to see you try it, prick.” 

Dazai laughed a little, smiling with flushed cheeks. 

“Maybe I will.” 

Then, Dazai paused, and Kunikida came around with wristbands, handing them out, and Dazai took one for both of them. 

As Chuuya took one, and peeled the back off to stick it around Dazai's wrist, Dazai spoke again. 

“I'm usually at your house for my birthday anyway. Why are we here as well? I'm obviously not complaining but…” 

Chuuya sighed, and held out his own wrist for Dazai to put the wristband on. 

“Can you think of some of the places we've bee for my birthday? We've been to the zoo, the beach, a museum… the list goes on. Regardless of anything, my parents have always made an effort to make my birthday fun.” 

He paused, thinking about his words. 

“Where have you been for your birthday?” 

Dazai frowned, avoiding Chuuya's eyes by playing with the wristband. 

“Your house.” 

“Exactly. That's why we're here.” Chuuya said, and he pulled his hands away, while Kunikida, who had appointed himself as event coordinator, checked his watch.

“It's almost lunch, I'd suggest we go around as a group once, then go get something to eat before splitting up. The aquarium closes at four, and our bus is at quarter past, so we have until just before closing.” Kunikida said, addressing the group. 

Chuuya was extremely glad for Kunikida being a stickler for time keeping, because while he had been the one to arrange most of the stuff, Kunikida had figured out bus times, and there had been a collective relief when Kunikida appeared with a general schedule for their day.

Chuuya ended up next to Yosano and Dazai ended up bothering Kunikida, but Chuuya had no problem with that, smiling and chatting with Yosano as they began their first round of the Aquarium.

---

By the time they had finished their first tour of the aquarium, it had taken much longer than intended. 

It was nearly two pm as they were led to one of the party tables in the lunch hall, and Chuuya could have sworn there were claws in his stomach because of how hungry he was. 

It took a few minutes for them to all settle, and Dazai was sat right at the middle of the table, Chuuya on one side, Ranpo on the other, and Kunikida across from them, with Yosano next to him across from Ranpo, Atsushi and Akutagawa on Kunikida's other side.

After extensive (10 minutes) of research it had turned out paying for one of the big tables where they give you sandwiches, juice and some cupcakes for a birthday party was cheaper than everyone buying individual meals, so the table they were sitting at was designed to sit a lot more people than there were, but the sandwiches and juice were already there, so Chuuya couldn't care. 

Dazai had a big smile, that hadn't fallen for the past hour or so, and Chuuya was captivated, had been captivated, by the rosy hint to his cheeks, the ways his eyes creased as he smiled, every little detail of his face he hadn't noticed before. 

Then Dazai turned to him, wrinkling his nose. 

"Chuuya, do you know what's in these?" He asked, pointing at the sandwiches. 

Chuuya hummed, looking at the sandwiches, and Yosano took a look as well, before listing them off. 

"I think these ones are cheese, these ones are ham, and these ones are tuna." Yosano listed off, pointing at the plates. 

Dazai still looked vaguely unimpressed, chewing on his lip anxiously, and Chuuya tilted his head, and took one half of both the ham and the cheese. 

"Put one of the ham slices on the cheese, and some of the cheese on the ham one." Chuuya said, as he took one of the halves of a tuna sandwich for himself. 

Dazai huffed, and just picked up the cheese one. 

"I'm not a child Chuuya, I can handle my cheese and my ham being on separate sandwich halves." He said, before hesitating, staring down the food in his hands. 

Chuuya smiled slightly, and raised an eyebrow. 

"Yeah. Of course you can." He said sceptically, and Dazai scowled, took a bite, and then scrunched his face up.

Chuuya watched as Dazai slowly put the sandwich down and swallowed, looking mildly nauseated. 

"It doesn't taste the same." He said, almost guiltily as he took his sandwiches apart and started doing what Chuuya had said. 

"That's why I told you to mix them up." Chuuya said with a sigh and fond smile, and Dazai pouted. 

"I can do what I want. If I wanted to have my sandwiches separate, I would have." 

"Mhm." Chuuya responded, more focused on eating his own food before it all disappeared. 

The sandwiches were all devoured quickly, between jokes and stories and stupid comments, and Chuuya noted quite happily that Dazai had eaten quite a bit, a decent amount at least. 

When they finished, and someone had cleared their plates away, Kunikida got up, and suddenly the lights of the room they were in were dimmed. 

Dazai looked up from his camera in alarm, having been going through the photos he had taken, glancing around. 

"What's going on-" He started to ask, before he was cut off by Kunikida walking back in, followed by one of the workers, Kunikida recording as they started singing. 

"Happy birthday to you-"

Dazai was stuck, staring, his face flaring bright red in embarrassment as he stared at the tray of cupcakes, number candles saying '16' stuck in two different cupcakes, placed together and lighting the slightly dimmed room. 

"Happy birthday to you-"

Dazai glanced around helplessly, unsure where he was supposed to be looking, the cupcakes, the candles, the camera, his various friends smiling and singing, or if he should just bolt it.

"Happy birthday dear Dazai-"

His eyes widened as the cupcakes were placed on the table in front of him, staring at them as he tried to process everything. It was different, when it was Chuuya's family, to when it was his friends. 

When there was nobody there who could potentially ruin it for him, and he couldn't be trespassing, or intruding. 

"Happy birthday to you!" 

With a wide smile, Dazai took a deep breath, and blew the candles out, wincing at the sound of clapping, but feeling the best he had in years. 

There were tears in his eyes, and he sniffled, then leaned to Chuuya, throwing his arms around Chuuya's shoulders and hugging him tightly, fighting back his tears as Chuuya hugged him back. 

When he pulled away again, he flung himself at Ranpo, who surprisingly accepted the hug for a few seconds, before awkwardly patting Dazai's shoulder to let him know it was over. 

Kunikida got pulled over the table, and he seemed surprised by his inclusion in Dazai's hug attacks, but relented. 

When Dazai sat back down, he cleared his throat, shaking his head. 

"You guys are jerks, why would you do this to me." Dazai said, sighing dramatically. 

"Because it's a little funny." Yosano responded with a smile, and Kunikida laughed. 

"You would trip over and fall flat on your face if given the opportunity to do something like this to one of us." Ranpo pointed out, staring at the cupcakes longingly. 

"Yeah, but that's different. You aren't supposed to do this stuff to me, I'm supposed to do it to you." Dazai whined, and he sat forward, carefully taking the candles out the icing of the cupcakes, putting them to the side. 

"Quit complaining." Kunikida chastised, and Dazai rolled his eyes. 

"Yeah whatever mum." Dazai said, before hesitating. 

"I am allowed a cupcake, right?" He asked, and Chuuya rolled his eyes. 

"Dude, take one. We're all waiting on you." He said, and Dazai grinned, reaching for one of the chocolate ones, instantly licking the icing off the top.

The second Dazai had picked one, six other hands reached for the other, and there wasn't any left on the tray. 

It was quiet for a moment as people were too busy with their cakes, until Akutagawa finished his seconds before Dazai was about to, and of course, as the resident chaos bringer, Dazai spoke.

"Akutagawa, you know that the paper on these kinds of cupcakes is usually edible?" Dazai suggested innocently. 

There was a collective groan, but Akutagawa, who had a tendancy to believe whatever Dazai said, frowned. 

"Really?" He asked, and Dazai nodded enthusiastically, leaning forward. 

"It really is! Try some, just rip a bit off." Dazai insisted, and hesitantly, Akutagawa tore a bit off the colourful paper, and put it in his mouth. 

Almost instantly, his expression changed to disgust, and he coughed, spitting it out and going straight for his juice. 

"You lied to me!" Akutagawa gasped, betrayed, once he had drank half his cup. 

Atsushi laughed next to Akutagawa, and Chuuya was laughing too, and Dazai smiled widely. 

"Sorry!" Dazai said happily, and Akutagawa huffed in indignation, crossing his arms. 

"I want to go back around the tanks now!" Dazai said, standing up so fast he knocked his chair over. 

"Oops." 

---

Following Dazai as he drags him through the aquarium was less frustrating than Chuuya thought it would have been. 

The sight of Dazai point out fish and taking pictures, looking around in constant awe and excitement was enough to make any sense of annoyance from walking into Dazai every time he stopped abruptly to look at something else, evaporate.

He had no problem following Dazai around, and just smiling and watching every time Dazai was looking elsewhere.

The weather had been dull all day, and now the rain could be heard battering the tin roof above them as Dazai dragged him through the slowly emptying halls back to the overhead tanks. 

The noise quieted drastically as they entered one of the circular overhead tanks, the room empty and still as a stingray passed overhead. The lights were dimmed, the gray light from outside filtering through the water, a few phosphorescent fish glowing as they swam through the tank. 

Dazai's hand tightened it's grasp on his own, and Chuuya felt his cheeks flush, and he cleared his throat, looking down at the floor, at his boots next to Dazai's converse. 

He waited for Dazai to make a comment, or a joke, or for him to move away to get close to the glass. It turned out he didn't need to, looking up again, looking to Dazai. 

Dazai's head was tilted up, his eyes wide with wonder and mouth slightly open as he watched the fish, eyes darting to a shark as it neared. 

Chuuya thought he might never breathe again. 

And he was okay with that. 

As Dazai stared up, Chuuya couldn't take his eyes off him, tracing the shape of his face, the straight line of his nose and the sharpening curve of his jaw. His lips, pink and permanently swollen from being chewed on. His hair, getting long and curling around his ears and the nape of his neck. The black glasses Dazai rarely ever wore. The few freckles spotted across his cheeks like constellations. 

Chuuya looked at Dazai like he looked at the stars. Like Dazai had mapped them out, and had based their shapes on his thoughts and dreams. 

He was distinctly reminded of a similar scenario earlier that same year, of standing in a planetarium with his hand trapped in Dazai's, catching Dazai staring at him- and he wonders if Dazai had been looking at him like this. 

Had Dazai been tracing constellations in his freckles, and planets in his moles? Had he been resisting the urge to tuck away the stray piece of hair falling across his face? Had he been dreaming of them both floating between galaxies, of letting the dust settle in their hair and of doing nothing to resist the pull of a black hole?

He wonders if Dazai had ever loved him too. He wonders if Dazai loves him too. 

His throat felt dry and scratchy and for some reason he felt like he might cry. God, for how long has he been in love with Dazai? How could he have been so blind? 

Dazai turned to look at him, his lips curling into a smile. 

"Something to say, slug?" He asked, the happiness shining through his voice. 

'I LOVE YOU,' his thoughts screamed at him. 'I LOVE YOU, I love you, I love you. More than anything.' 

His throat closed up, and he smiled instead. Something sweet and soft, genuine and kind. No jagged edge, no hidden resentment, no pretend hatred.

"You're ugly." He lied. 

Dazai grinned, squeezing his hand tighter. 

"You're uglier." 

Chuuya's delusional, because he hears something entirely different in the soft creases at the edges of Dazai's eyes, and in the thumb rubbing the back of his hand, and the way Dazai moves closer to nudge him with his shoulder. 

It sounds like a love confession as it falls from Dazai's lips, like it was the most natural intonation to place behind the words. Like he was quoting the bible, or his favourite piece of poetry. 

Which, his brain unhelpfully supplies as he's trying to remind himself Dazai does not like him back, if he knows anything about Dazai, his favourite piece of poetry would be something that Chuuya himself had written. The thought places something warm in his chest, which he has grown to realise is not fever, but fondness. 

Still, he scowls and snaps back. 

"Compared to you, I'm... amazing." He said, struggling to think of a comparison. 

His thoughts had went; 

'Compared to you, I must be the ugliest thing in existence. That's okay.' 

"Yeah, I suppose you are." 

Chuuya falters, his cheeks going bright red as he looks up at Dazai with wide eyes. 

That sounded like a confession. 

But it wasn't, he had to firmly remind himself. 

Dazai tilted his head as he waited for a response. 

"Are you trying to flirt with me?" Chuuya asked, feigning indifference. "Because it's not working. Do you try that trick with everyone who falls your way?" 

Dazai laughed and shrugged, his own cheeks slightly flushed. 

"No. Chuuya is just a good person. Chuuya is amazing, that's all." 

Chuuya went quiet, and Dazai glanced down at their intertwined hands, squeezing slightly. 

Chuuya cleared his throat again, feeling like he might explode. 

"...You really believe that?" 

Dazai smiled slightly, and nodded. 

"With my whole being." 

Chuuya just nodded back, dumbstruck. He swallowed, and couldn't help but feel slightly claustrophobic, hyper aware of how close he was to Dazai, of their hands held together and his sweaty palms. 

He felt slightly sick for it, but he couldn't help the way his eyes darted to Dazai's lips, and he couldn't help but wish he could touch them, feel them, kiss them. 

Dazai's lips were always red and often bleeding from being torn at by sharp teeth, and he wondered how they would feel against his own, which were well looked after, despite the faint scar on the right of his bottom lip, from falling as a kid. 

A split lip which a kid Dazai had helped patch up. A kid Dazai, who, not understanding the implications behind kisses, had offered to kiss it better, before being gently warned off by Chuuya's laughing parents.

Chuuya wondered if Dazai would kiss him better.

He didn't notice he had lifted his hand until it was pressed against Dazai's cheek, thumb pressed just next to the corner of his lip. 

He felt the way Dazai's skin heated up, and felt him swallow, and most importantly he felt as Dazai's free hand moved to his side. 

His eyes were trained on Dazai's lips. On the faint red marks where teeth had bitten deeper than intended. 

He glanced up at Dazai's eyes, and Dazai was looking right back at him, eyes wide and clear, his lips parting as though to ask a question. 

Chuuya got on his toes, leaning in closer, breathing slowly, as though scared to shatter the quiet peace, as though he might scare Dazai away if he moved too quickly. 

Dazai's question never came, so Chuuya's eyes went back to his lips as he was so close to Dazai's face he could almost touch their noses together.

"Can I..." He hesitated, and he felt Dazai's hand on his side pull him slightly closer. 

With that, he regained some of his confidence, swallowing, and he pressed closer, so close their lips were barely apart. 

"...Can I ki-"

"Guys, the aquarium is closing in like five minutes, and we're going to end up missing the bus!" 

Chuuya jumped away from Dazai, letting go of his hand and face, blushing violently as Kunikida froze upon the sight of them.

"...Were you two in the middle of something... or..." Kunikida asked, trailing off, his eyes clearly taking in every detail, of both Chuuya's and Dazai's flushed faces, and the purposeful space between their bodies.

"Uh- No. It's nothing." Chuuya said as Dazai just stood next to him, face so red he looked like he might die on the spot. 

"...Well in that case, we're going to be late if we don't leave now." Kunikida said, quickly turning and leaving. 

It was silent for a few moments as neither of them spoke, until Dazai cleared his throat, and stepped forward, not looking at Chuuya. 

"We should probably go." 

"Yeah," Chuuya muttered in agreement, following Dazai, feeling slightly ill as they began their trek to the exit.

---

They did end up missing the bus, and Dazai groaned, shaking the water from his coat- the one Chuuya had let him borrow the previous week, and slid down the wall of the bus station to sit on the ground. 

Chuuya ran a hand through his hair, and the wet strands that had fallen from his ponytail making him grimace. 

"There's another bus in fifteen minutes, it'll just take a little longer to get back." Kunikida said, the relief clear in his tone, as he stood with Yosano. 

Chuuya moved to sit next to Dazai, and eventually they all ended up just sitting on the floor, and Dazai whined, tilting his head back against the wall. 

"I'm hungry!" He complained, and Chuuya blinked in surprise, but instantly there were four different people rummaging in bags, and Dazai had a cereal bar, a packet of yoghurt raisins, some chocolate, and apple slices thrown at him. 

He blinked in surprise, staring down at the food, looking a little confused, but he shut up, and picked up the cereal bar first, happily eating it while looking out at the rain. 

Chuuya sighed, crossing his arms, his mood dampened significantly since the incident in the overhead tank. 

How could he have been so stupid. 

Most people were exhausted by now after the long day, so Chuuya wasn't surprised when Dazai ended up leaning on him, given up on his quest for food. 

It was short lived as the next bus arrived shortly after, and they gathered their things, getting their tickets, and Chuuya sat at the window, leaning against it and sighing again, his headphones already in. 

Wordlessly he handed one to Dazai, the bus starting, and Dazai leaned against him again, falling asleep quickly. 

Chuuya shifted in his seat to sit with his back against the window, allowing Dazai to lay on him easier, and he brushed his fingers through Dazai's hair, absently listening to his music. 

He would kill to have this for the rest of his life. 

---

It was just after seven pm by the time Chuuya was walking home, Dazai right beside him, still sharing the headphones, their knuckles brushing from the proximity.

Chuuya was exhausted himself by now as well, the bus ride spent writing until he had gave up, and just resigned himself to listening to the music and daydreaming. 

So, when Dazai's hand slipped into his, despite the mess of emotions he was still feeling from earlier, he just intertwined their fingers, and yawned.

The rain was still on, falling around them lightly and Chuuya looked up at the sky, the sun still setting, but still dark enough for the street lights to be on. 

As they neared his house, Dazai hesitated, and started to speak. 

"Chuuya, about in the aquari-" He started, and Chuuya thanked whatever god he didn't believe in as the song changed, bursting into the opening chords of an upbeat taylor swift song. 

"Oh! Fearless!" Chuuya said, interrupting Dazai and laughing. 

"This is perfect, cause it's raining, and we're dressed nicely," Chuuya said, pulling Dazai along the street. 

"Chuuya-" Dazai protested for a moment, looking slightly concerned, but Chuuya turned back, singing the lyrics, loud and bad. 

"There's something about the way the street looks when it's just rained!" He yelled more than sang, and Dazai couldn't help but laugh, cheeks red and flushed. 

"Chuuya stop you can't sing!" Dazai whined, following him to stop the earbud being pulled out, and Chuuya just shrugged. 

"That sounds like your problem, not mine." 

"You're going to get us yelled at for the noise!" Dazai responded, but he was smiling widely. 

"And you know I wanna ask you to dance right there- in the middle of the parking lot!" Chuuya continued anyway, undeterred, and Dazai laughed. 

"I bet you can't dance either, balance and grace is not your thing." 

"I could dance perfectly fine!" Chuuya retorted, glaring at Dazai. 

"Yeah? Prove it then idiot." Dazai taunted, and Chuuya didn't hesitate, pulling Dazai with him into the middle of the empty street. 

As the chorus kicked off, Chuuya fought to remember the basic steps of any dance he had ever been taught in school, until Dazai stepped forward, and Chuuya remembered the basics of a waltz, staring at his feet as he stood in a puddle. 

Dazai was also staring down at his feet, for all his taunting of Chuuya, he couldn't dance either, and so they both ended up just giggling stupidly as they tripped over each other in the middle of the road. 

"You're even worse at this than I am!" Chuuya accused as he almost fell over, Dazai stepping on one of his boot laces. 

"I never claimed to be good at this!" Dazai retorted as they gave up, parting and breathing heavily, cheeks flushed as they reached Chuuya's door. 

"You had no right to be accusing me of being bad though." Chuuya said, crossing his arms and scowling at Dazai. 

"Whatever." Dazai said dismissively, and a second later, he hugged Chuuya tightly, whispering next his ear. 

"Thank you for everything today." He said quietly, and Chuuya cleared his throat, shrugging in the hug. 

"It was nothing." He responded, and Dazai sighed. 

"Still. Thanks." 

Chuuya smiled a little. 

"Are you feeling alright? You're thanking me, repeatedly. This is strange. New territory." He joked, and Dazai huffed, still not pulling away. 

"Shut up." Dazai muttered, quiet, sounding embarrassed, or hesitant. 

Despite himself, Chuuya went quiet, suddenly a little unsure. 

Dazai didn't act like this normally, what was going on? 

Dazai pulled away a second later, face pink. 

He cleared his throat, took out the headphone and handed it back to Chuuya. 

When Chuuya took it back, Dazai suddenly took Chuuya's face between his hands, and kissed his forehead, having to lean up slightly to do so, their height difference not yet exaggerated enough for the opposite. 

Then, Dazai let go and turned away abruptly, cheeks bright red as he walked away quickly, leaving Chuuya to stand staring after him, face burning and mouth slightly open, the bridge for fearless playing somewhere at the edge of his awareness, the song having somehow looped itself. 

He could feel the lingering sensation of Dazai's lips on his forehead, his chest tight, and butterflies in his stomach attempting to exit through his mouth. 

He stared down at his shaking hands, any dregs of tiredness he might have still been there, gone with Dazai. 

He sat down on his front step, running a hand through his hair. 

Wow. 

What does that mean?

--- 

Dazai's thoughts, all the way home, inside his house, into his room, and into his bed, were just an amalgamation of;

"WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK"

and 

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA" 

Mori wasn't in, so he just sat in his bed, staring at his camera, flicking through the photos of that day. 

He almost kissed Chuuya. 

Well. He did kiss Chuuya. 

He almost kissed Chuuya. 

Correction, Chuuya almost kissed him. 

What the fuck does that mean??? 

The front door slammed as Mori got in, but Dazai didn't pay it any attention, his vision unfocused as he just thought of that moment, over and over. 

Chuuya's eyes, the way they had been focused on his lips, the hair falling in his face, the way they had been so close. 

"Dazai! You're straight here after school tomorrow to collect Elise from Ango with me, understand?!" Mori's voice called through, the house. 

"Yeah!" Dazai responded absently, thinking instead about Chuuya's surprised expression, his flushed face, the way that he had woken up on the bus earlier to his head on Chuuya's shoulder, and Chuuya's hand in his hair, and the way he had pretended to sleep for longer to stay like that. 

Chuuya's constant soft smiles and gentle motions the second he thought Dazai wasn't paying attention. 

Maybe...

Maybe there was actually something behind that.

Maybe they could work this out.

Chapter Text

Chuuya stood up straighter as he saw Dazai walking towards him, and he smiled widely, cheeks pink. 

"Happy birthday!" Chuuya said before Dazai could say anything, and Dazai grinned, bowing exaggeratedly before he reached Chuuya.

"Thank you, thank you, I'll be taking autographs at the end of the day." Dazai said cockily, and Chuuya rolled his eyes, elbowing him once he got near enough. 

"Nobody would ever want your autograph loser. Maybe only if you become a famous artist." 

Dazai pouted, and whined, feigning hurt. 

"You're so mean Chuuya!" 

"Whatever," Chuuya responded with a grin, taking Dazai's hand and pulling him along to begin their walk to school. 

The day was warm and bright, the sun shining on the damp ground after the rain through the night, and Chuuya felt weirdly relaxed in the slightly humid air, his hand in Dazai's, still riding the giddy high from the night before that had meant he struggled to sleep. 

Dazai seemed as best as he could be, like he had slept well, hair done the same way it had been yesterday, just without the clips tucking it behind his ear.

He was smiling, looking up at the sky and birds as they passed, before he suddenly turned his attention on Chuuya, hesitating before speaking. 

"I don't have any marks from my soulmate." He said thoughtfully, tentatively, like he knew something Chuuya didn't, that made Chuuya's thoughts recalibrate to be slightly more defensive, watching Dazai closely. 

"I think that's really funny, that I don't have anything from my soulmate, given how clumsy I can be. I injure myself really easily, my soulmate probably somehow manages the opposite." Dazai said carefully, and Chuuya frowned. 

He was sure he heard something similar before. 

There must have been a hint dropped in Dazai's words, given the way he was looking at him, but Chuuya couldn't find it, and he groaned internally, but otherwise just shrugged. 

"I'm sure you'll get something eventually. Besides, you have all the time in the world to find your soulmate. That doesn't stop you from doing other things." Chuuya said, also picking his words cautiously. 

If he went about this carefully, there was a chance he might get to be with Dazai. 

At least for a while, until he found his soulmate. 

That was his plan, wasn't it? Wait until after Dazai's birthday to find out who Dazai's soulmate is, then if they don't know, or Dazai doesn't like them, he can ask Dazai out. 

If Dazai likes him. 

And well. Dazai kissed him. His forehead, sure, but still kissed him.

So Dazai might be willing to do it again. Only on the lips. 

And hopefully, again after that. And again and again until they got sick of it or died or whichever came first.

If he could just get one taste of Dazai, one press of their lips, long or short, soft or hurried, he wouldn't want anything else again. 

His face flushed, as he let himself properly daydream about it, a cinematic moment where they get to confess, the sun setting behind them while they sit at the bridge over the river, able to have that perfect moment in all coming of age movies where the main character finally kisses the love interest, the way they just know what to do. 

He hasn't ever properly thought of himself in that moment, but he could imagine it now, how perfect it would be.

Lost in his day dreaming, he didn't realise as they got to the school gates, passing through them. 

He brought himself back to the present, blinking away his thoughts as they were stopped almost instantly as they walked into the building. 

It was by a student in the next year up and her group of friends, and she addressed Dazai, not even bothering to hide her curiosity as she spoke. 

“Have you gotten a soulmate mark?” She asked, glancing between him and Chuuya. 

“Happy birthday, by the way.” She added as an afterthought. 

Dazai looked a little confused, but he shook his head, answering hesitantly. 

“...No? and thanks, I guess.” He responded. 

The girl looked thoughtful, if a little crestfallen, looking between Dazai and Chuuya as though considering them. 

“Oh, I see.” She said, tilting her head, her loose red hair falling from where she had placed it over her shoulders. 

“Was there a reason for the question?” Chuuya asked snippily, glaring at her, and she glared back at him. 

“No. I'm just curious about whether your boyfriend has his soulmate or not yet.” She said haughtily. 

Chuuya spluttered, and then she looked almost smug at his reaction, once again glancing between the two of them like she was looking for something. 

When she couldn't find it, she turned away, her friends leaving with her, and Chuuya dropped Dazai's hand, realising how tightly he had been holding it. 

“That was odd.” He muttered, clearing his throat. 

“Yeah…” Dazai said, chewing on his lip, looking conflicted. 

“I wonder why she was asking.” Chuuya added, looking at the girl and her friends' retreating backs. 

Dazai just frowned. 

— 

That wasn't the last time the question was asked. 

All day, between their classes they had people coming up to them, asking Dazai about his soulmate mark with a kind of interest Chuuya couldn't explain. 

All of them seemed to be only more interested when they noticed Chuuya glaring at them from wherever he was near Dazai. 

It was all Chuuya could think about, glaring at the boiling pot of water while he was in home economics. 

Dazai was making the sauce- well. ‘Making’ was probably not the best term to be used. 

Dazai was staring at the tomatoes he was supposed to be chopping with a wrinkled nose when he no doubt contemplated just leaving the classroom. 

Chuuya watched Dazai begrudgingly start chopping the tomatoes, and he sighed, looking out the window, at the dull sky.

It had changed abruptly, going from bright and sunny to dark and grey, and he could see the first few spots of rain beginning already, pattering on the glass panes.

Their teacher was a substitute today, and the class was loud and rowdy, and he could see Tachihara and Higuchi bickering near the back of the classroom, and Kunikida was paired with Yosano behind him and Dazai. 

He was so thankful it was just a simple pasta dish today. He didn't have the patience for anything else. 

He just wanted to go home and give Dazai his birthday presents. 

His mind wandered to the envelope sitting on his desk, one he was still torn on whether he was going to actually give to Dazai or not.

The contents were… delicate. He had agonised over it, perfecting every word, every sentence and hidden meaning or reference, until the poem turned into prose, a letter length of careful wishing and desperate yearning. 

The thought of giving his heart on a platter like that, served with a flourish of the fancy fountain pen, made a nervous kind of excitement rise in his gut and make him feel like he might throw up. 

The water was boiling now, and Chuuya sighed heavily, glancing at Dazai as he went to wash his hands of the tomato, looking vaguely nauseous. 

Chuuya hummed absently as he looked for the scissors, and he scowled as he opened the drawer and couldn't find them, and he glanced over at the dishes left by the last class who hadn't cleaned up properly, spotting the scissors with them. 

He rolled his eyes, and just grabbed the knife Dazai had been using to cut the vegetables at the same time as he reached for the pasta bag.

Dazai raised an eyebrow and returned to his spot, drying his hands with a paper towel. 

“Careful Slug you're gonna hurt yourself.” Dazai said airily, but with an undertone of anxiety. 

Chuuya huffed, stabbing the knife into the bag as he usually would. 

“I've done this plenty of times, it's fine.” He said dismissively, and adjusted his grip on the knife, and made the sharp movement to cut through the bag. 

At the exact time as he moved, there was a crash from the back of the room, and his head snapped up to see Higuchi and Tachihara covering their ears as their pot crashed to the floor. 

With the sudden movement, his grip slipped, and the knife cut into the palm of his left hand. 

“Fuck!” He yelled, dropping the knife and the bag, pasta spilling onto the table as he did so, grabbing his wrist and hissing as blood quickly started pouring from the wound on his palm. 

“Chuuya!” Dazai yelled back, and there was a sudden silence across the room as Dazai jumped forward, grabbing another paper towel and pressing it into Chuuya's hand, attempting to stop the bleeding. 

Chuuya winced, and Dazai quickly replaced the paper towel as the first one soaked through, and conveniently the substitute teacher had disappeared, leaving a room of shocked, and in some cases, curious, teenagers to just witness the spectacle. 

“Ow ow ow!” Chuuya hissed as Dazai pressed harder. 

“I need it to stop bleeding as much!” Dazai responded back, his voice panicked. 

“Just hold still.” Dazai demanded, and he peeled back the bloody paper towel with shaky hands, inspecting the cut. 

Chuuya watched, his breathing shaky as he tried to stay still, until Dazai moved, and a flash of red on the inside of Dazai's left hand caught Chuuya's attention. 

“Dazai.” Chuuya started, staring at Dazai's hand as he moved again. 

“It's not that deep, I don't think you'll have damaged anything.” Dazai said in response, ignoring Chuuya's tone. 

“No- Dazai,” Chuuya tried again, and Dazai just continued speaking, voice slightly shaky but audibly relieved. 

“It'll be fine, we just need to clean and dress it, and I can do that-” 

“Dazai!” Chuuya snapped for the third time, and this time, with his uninjured hand, he grabbed Dazai's left, turning his palm up to the sky. 

He felt violently sick, staring at the matching red line across Dazai's palm, his fingers stained with Chuuya's blood.

It was so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Like the world had stopped spinning, just for this moment.

Dazai was extremely pale, staring at the mark with wide eyes, frozen like he was stuck between fight or flight. 

Chuuya curled his left hand into a fist, breath hitching at the pain as he dug his fingers into the fresh wound. 

Dazai hissed and winced at the phantom pain in his own hand, and Chuuya felt his chest well with so many different indiscernible feelings. 

Of course. The only person whose favourite colour was blue he never considered was Dazai. 

And with that thought, his eyes flicked to the blue lines on his arms, and his brain froze. 

A realisation seemed to hit him, at the same time as it hit most others watching this go down. 

The pretty aquamarine lines covering Chuuya's arms weren't always that colour. 

And they didn't originate on Chuuya's body. 

Suddenly, Dazai's surety in what was causing the marks, his absence every time they were added too, the reactions of pain every time he was touched- It all made sense. 

And he was drawn to four nights ago. 

The deep blue marks across the side of his neck he was still hiding with the choker. His eyes flicked to the bandages around Dazai's neck. 

His chest constricted as all the pieces began to fit together in his head, every hesitant movement, every unexplained absence, everything being explained as he came to the most important realisation of his life. 

Dazai was his soulmate. 

Dazai was the one carrying all these original wounds. 

And then, Dazai tore himself from Chuuya's grasp, his eyes wide and his expression one of pure fear and panic, his breathing quick and heavy, eyes glittering with tears. 

He quickly pulled his apron off, dumping it on the floor, and nobody moved to stop him as Dazai ran from the classroom, leaving everything behind, Chuuya barely glimpsing the sight of Dazai wiping his eyes as he turned away.

Chuuya stared after him, his mouth slightly open until he took a deep breath. 

Chuuya, known for his irrationality, impulsivity, and emotional reactions, seemed perfectly calm as he took his own apron off, turned the cooker off. 

And then, he took off running after Dazai. 

By the time he got into the main hall he had no clue where Dazai had went, his only option to guess, and he raced towards the stairs, racing up them, to the first place he could think of to go. 

He ran to the bathroom, bursting through the door to find it completely empty. 

He froze, chest heaving as he looked around, dread filling him as he walked right to the end cubicle, pushing the door open and faltering as there was still no Dazai. 

He wasn't there. He couldn't find him. Where the hell else could he be? 

He turned around as he heard one of the doors bang closed, and there Dazai was- He had run to hide here. He'd just realised this would be the first place Chuuya checked. 

"Dazai wait, we need to talk!" Chuuya yelled, but Dazai just ran again, leaving the bathroom. 

This time, Chuuya didn't wait before running after Dazai, following him down the stairs and through the halls until Dazai ran through one of the side door outside into the rain, the fight with the lock slowing him down enough for Chuuya to catch up. 

Chuuya reached out and grabbed Dazai's arm, pulling him back. 

"Wait! Fucking talk to me jackass!" Chuuya shouted, upset and hurt. 

"Don't- touch me!" Dazai retaliated, pulling his arm away from Chuuya, stepping back and breathing in and out sharply, like he was struggling to breathe. 

"Then stop running!" Chuuya snapped. 

"I'm trying figure out what the fuck is going on, and you running is just making you look guilty- like you caused this fucking mess!" 

"Take a look Chuuya- It's pretty obvious I did cause this mess!" Dazai practically screamed. 

"Yeah, cause you fucking lied to me! Again!" Chuuya shouted, shoving all his hurt and concern aside, letting himself get angry instead. 

"You didn't think to tell me you were my soulmate, you didn't think to tell me when Oda died- You didn't think to tell me you tried to fucking kill yourself!" 

He threw his hands in the air, exasperated and hurt.

"Do you not trust me? Do you hate me? Is that it? Do you just not want me to know, think I can't handle it? You have watched me agonize over all this for weeks, and knew the whole time?" He asked, confused, stepping towards Dazai again. 

Dazai was just frozen, breathing quickly and heavily, staring at Chuuya with wide eyes, as Chuuya kept going. 

"You could have died! And I wouldn't have known! You almost died! Dazai! You. Almost. Died!" Chuuya screamed, tears in his eyes, threatening to fall, the rain drowning out his screaming. 

"You almost died, twice, by your own hand, and came into school the next day like it was nothing. There was no way you didn't know. You just lied to me about it." 

Dazai just gaped at Chuuya, struggling for words, and he shook his head, his own tears falling, mixing with the raindrops on his face. 

"No- I couldn't, you don't get it! You don't get it I couldn't just tell you like that! 'Hey Chuuya, you're my soulmate because I recognise the cuts covering your arms as my own'?! Was that what I was supposed to say?" 

Chuuya was struggling to think, unsure how to process everything going on, and he just shrugged, and looked around hopelessly. 

"I- I don't know! I just. This is so stupid! You didn't need to hide this from me. I could have helped. There are so many people worried as all hell about you, and now this- God! I'm just so fucking worried!" 

He stopped, taking a deep breath, and when he breathed out again it turned into a sob, and he spoke quietly.

"Why didn't you tell me?" He asked. 

Dazai stared at Chuuya, tears falling down his face, and he shrugged, his voice trembling as he spoke. 

"Because I love you. I couldn't risk ruining it." 

Chuuya broke down, the tears falling freely and he just stepped towards Dazai, and he pulled him into a hug, and just held onto him tightly. 

Despite everything, this was still his shitty best friend. His shitty best friend, who clearly needed help. Of course he was hurt. But Dazai was too.

"You're so fucking stupid for a genius." Chuuya muttered, and Dazai relaxed a little, his chest shuddering with the force of his tears. 

"You were a bit of an ass about the entire 'we would never be soulmates' thing." Dazai said, hugging Chuuya back tightly, his voice shaky in Chuuya's ear.

"I didn't have much reason to believe anything good would come out of telling you."

"...I'm sorry." Chuuya apologized after a moment, feeling guilt flash through him as he thought back to all the times he dismissed anything Dazai said about the potential of them being soulmates. 

"I didn't mean it. Most of the time. I very quickly realised I wouldn't have minded as much as I said I did. And well..." 

He trailed off, and buried his face into Dazai's shoulder, mumbling his words. 

"I realised I really do love you too. Like a lot." He whispered. 

Dazai's breath hitched, and then Dazai started crying properly, shaking and coughing as they held on tightly to each other, the rain beginning to let up as they just stood together crying. 

"I'm sorry I lied to you. I wish I could have told you. I just couldn't. I didn't want you to find out like this." 

"How did you want me to find out then? Cause one way or another I would have realised what you had done." Chuuya said, and he pulled away, looking at Dazai carefully. 

"You couldn't have hid it forever. I would have found out somehow… But I would have helped. Tried to, at least. You should know that.”

Dazai cleared his throat, and looked away. 

“Maybe I don't want to be helped.” He whispered quietly.

Chuuya felt his throat constrict, and there was nothing he could think of to say, hopelessness welling in his chest.

"...Don't say that. You deserve it, regardless of whether you want it. You do not deserve to suffer. In any way." 

Dazai looked like he wanted to argue for a second, forming a hundred rebuttals in his head, a thousand reasons he didn't believe it, why in his mind it was the least he deserved, that he was fine the way he was.

But there was a kind of determination in the way Chuuya was looking at Dazai that made him pause, and then Dazai took Chuuya's right hand in his own, and just pulled him back into the school. 

They were a little damp from the rain, and Dazai just quietly pulled Chuuya to the office, and they managed to slip into the empty nurses office unnoticed. 

Dazai had probably done this before, judging by how quickly he located the box of first aid supplies, and Chuuya sat on the metal bed, looking down at the floor as Dazai came over and took his hand, cleaning the drying blood away with an alcohol wipe. 

Chuuya winced at the stinging pain, but didn't say anything, still reeling a little from the conversation they had just had, along with the revelation that Dazai was his soulmate.

All his concern about how either of their soulmates would react to them liking each other seemed kind of stupid now. 

The time he had been literal inches away from getting to kiss Dazai and said his soulmate probably have an issue with them kissing? The irony. 

If not for anything else, at least it would be a funny story to tell.

There was so much he needed to unpack. 

"Dazai?" He asked, glancing at Dazai's eyes, which were carefully trained on the cut on Chuuya's palm. 

"Yeah?" Dazai responded, searching the first aid box for some bandages, and the bell went off, signalling the beginning of lunch. 

"Can I ask why?" Chuuya asked cautiously, and Dazai glanced at him, meeting his gaze for a second before looking away again. 

"Why what." 

"You know what I mean," Chuuya said, looking at the blue lines over his arms. 

"Why were you hurting yourself so badly? Is there a reason?" 

Dazai took a sharp breath, and shook his head. 

"I'm not talking about it." He said firmly, tone almost sharp, until he paused, and thought through it. 

"I'm not ready." He amended, finding the bandages he was looking for, and beginning to wrap Chuuya's hand. 

"I'm not going to stop just because you know, either." He added, his tone defensive, like he was expecting Chuuya to fight him on it. 

But Chuuya just nodded, watching the bandages being wrapped around his hand, and he swallowed thickly. 

"I understand. I don't expect you too. I imagine it isn't an easy thing to stop just like that." 

Dazai faltered for a second, surprised at the acceptance. No anger, no excessive remorse, just understanding. He cleared his throat and shook his head.

"Yeah. It isn't." He agreed quietly.

With that, Dazai secured the bandages and began to clean up, putting the first aid box away again, and the bloody wipes in the bin. 

Chuuya stood up, and took a deep breath. 

"When you're ready-" he started, watching as Dazai turned to look at him again– "I'll be here. I'll help. Or not. I'll just listen, if that's what you need." 

Dazai looked at him carefully, considering his words, until he cracked a small smile, and just brushed past Chuuya to leave the nurses office. 

"I'll keep it in mind." 

Chuuya sighed in relief and followed Dazai, pushing through the crowds of people in the hallways after lunch getting out, feeling horrendously claustrophobic, until they managed to get out, stepping out the school into the grounds, and his eyes landed on their friends at their lunch spot, and their bags, sitting leaning against the tree. 

When they went over it was quiet, and Chuuya sat down, Dazai following suit as they sat in awkward silence. 

Not a movement was made, nobody sure what to say, until Kunikida spoke quietly, a small smile on his face. 

"So... Yesterday was nothing then?" He asked, and Chuuya groaned, his face going red, and the tension melted like ice.

"It was! It might not have been if you hadn't interrupted us though!" Chuuya responded, and Dazai grinned. 

"It really wasn't anything special Kunikida, it was simply..." Dazai paused, thinking over what words to use. 

"Overdue. How else would we have come to the conclusion that Chuuya is definitely the biggest loser in the world?" 

"Biggest loser?!" Chuuya asked accusingly, glaring at Dazai. 

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?!" 

Dazai shrugged, and spoke dramatically. 

"Chuuya couldn't even ask me a single question! He's a loser, because he just stood there staring until we got interrupted. If he had just asked the first time-" 

"You were the one standing and staring and doing nothing! At least I actually said something! You just stood there gaping like a fish out of water! Which I suppose you were, so I guess I can't be too surprised, can I?" Chuuya interrupted heatedly.

"What's going on?" Atsushi asked in confusion, and Ranpo answered from where he was watching Yosano open her wallet with glee in his eyes.

"Dazai and Chuuya are soulmates, and almost kissed yesterday." Ranpo said as he was handed a handful of money by Yosano. 

Atsushi looked shocked, and Akutagawa seemed unsurprised, while Kunikida narrowed in on the exchange of money. 

"Were you two betting on whether they would be soulmates?!" Kunikida asked in disbelief, and Yosano sighed dejectedly. 

"Yeah. Ranpo bet they were soulmates, and I bet that they weren't but would date anyway." 

"Hold on, Ranpo knew already, he figured it out, I don't think this was a fair bet." Dazai chimed in, before Ranpo laughed proudly, shaking his head. 

"Nope! We betted the week before Chuuya's birthday when you started teasing him about it. It was a perfectly fair bet." Ranpo said, and Yosano's glare revealed the truth in the statement.

Kunikida seemed unimpressed, but he just addressed Dazai and Chuuya again. 

"You guys had quite the scene there. I won't be surprised if half the school knows about this already." He said, smiling a little. 

Yosano burst forward, and spoke excitedly. 

"No but even the weather was on your guy's side! It was raining, and now it's sunny again- I'm jealous, it's like fate is trying to make you guys have the most successful and dramatic love story of all time.

"Well fate could have done with intervening for more than the weather being appropriate and adding to the atmosphere." Chuuya said with irritation, and he sighed. 

Dazai nodded in agreement, and he elbowed Chuuya. 

"I wanna go home early." He whined, leaning against Chuuya.

"I think my parents might object to me skipping more school after my three day holiday last week." Chuuya muttered, but he was already grabbing his bag and getting up. 

"I think you both are well excused in going home right now." Kunikida said, and Dazai's eyes opened comically wide. 

"Kunikida??? Excusing skipping school???" Dazai asked in disbelief as he got up.

Kunikida frowned, and crossed his arms. 

"Don't get used to it. You have both just been through emotional turmoil and I believe your continued presence here will not have any positive impact on either of you." 

With a sigh, Kunikida shifted, and dug in his bag for something, and then he pulled out a thousand yen note and handed it to Dazai. 

"Go away and get slushies on the way home or something." Kunikida said, crossing his arms and looking away. 

Dazai looked like he was going to refuse the money for a second, before he sighed, smiled, and then just kneeled to hug Kunikida. 

Kunikida was taken aback, and Dazai pulled away quickly. 

"You guys are weird and I'm glad you're my friends." Dazai said, and Chuuya laughed, and his hand was grabbed, and quickly he was being pulled to the back gates.

They were open, but as they neared, they heard a shout from behind, and Chuuya looked around to see one of the PE teachers enlisted in supervising lunch following them, and he sped up. 

"Hey!" The teachers yelled, and Chuuya took Dazai's hand, and started running. 

"Run Dazai!" He yelled, and Dazai instantly started grinning, and they both ran out the gates, Chuuya looking behind to see them being chased, the teacher speaking into his walkie talkie, no doubt informing the office they'd left. 

This bit would be fun.

---

Sipping on ice cold slushies, and kicking the puddles they walk by, Chuuya and Dazai walked hand in hand back home.

The run from the school staff hadn't lasted long, and they had made sure to stop by the store on the way home to but slushies, wandering into the library to browse the shelves for a few minutes when they passed. 

The school would still not be out for another hour at least, which Chuuya was well aware of as he let go of Dazai's hand to open the door of his house, stepping inside and slipping his shoes off. 

Dazai followed suit, and Chuuya tried to close the door as quietly as possible, only making a soft click, but as he tried to sneak past the kitchen doorway to go upstairs, his plans were foiled. 

"Chuuya Nakahara, just what do you think you are doing home from school this early?" His mother said, and Chuuya and Dazai both froze, turning to face her. 

She was standing at the table holding some fabric and a spool of thread, while Chuuya's Dad didn't look up from where he was carefully sewing a piece of clothing.

"We're... We got let out early?" He suggested, and Dazai nodded solemnly, to confirm his story. 

"That's really funny because we got a call from the school saying that you two ran out the school gates at lunchtime after causing a scene in your home economics class." She said, looking at them both with a firm expression. 

Then, she sighed, and shook her head. 

"You two are trouble. Why did you leave school so early?" She asked, again. 

Chuuya subconsciously moved his hand behind his back, but then Dazai stepped into the kitchen, holding out his left palm to show the bright red mark across his palm, too bright to be a real injury. 

Chuuya got the hint, and stepped forward as well, showing the bandage around his left hand. 

Chuuya's mother quickly put everything together, and she sighed softly, putting down the things she was holding, and then pulling Dazai in for a hug. 

Dazai stiffened up, glancing at Chuuya in minor panic, until Chuuya's mother spoke. 

"Oh honey... Are you okay?" She asked, amd Dazai seemed to freeze, and he swallowed, before nodding. 

"Yeah... I'm fine." He whispered, and Chuuya's Dad looked up. 

"What's going on?" He asked, and Dazai pulled himself out of Chuuya's mum's arms, clearing his throat. 

"Chuuya and I are soulmates." He explained shortly, and Chuuya's Dad nodded slowly. 

"Oh. I see." 

Chuuya's mum cleared her throat. 

"Okay. Chuuya, is your hand okay?" She asked, and Chuuya nodded, confirming it was fine. It didn't really hurt anymore. 

"Dazai, I think there's some things we need to have a proper conversation about. But that can happen on a day that isn't your birthday. For now, you two can just go upstairs. Go have some fun." She said next, and they both just agreed hurriedly, quite happy to run up the stairs and lock themselves in Chuuya's room.

Dazai got in and made himself comfortable on Chuuya's bed quickly, and Chuuya moved to his desk, and hesitated, grabbing Dazai's presents, and the letter sitting on top of them. 

He turned to join Dazai on his bed, and he handed Dazai the wrapped present, taking a deep breath. 

"Happy birthday." He said, and Dazai took the present cautiously, looking at him carefully, and then he smiled, ripping open the paper. 

Dazai's eyes widened as he looked down at the paints and sketchbook he had been given, catching his lip and biting it as he processed them. 

"I've wanted these ones for ages." He said stupidly, stating what Chuuya already knew. 

"Yeah, why do you think I got you them?" Chuuya said, nudging Dazai with his shoulder. 

"Thank you." Dazai said with a smile, and Chuuya looked down at the envelope in his hands. 

He felt a little nauseous as he did it, but he dropped the letter in Dazai's lap, and moved away, going back to his chair and watching from a slight distance. 

Dazai raised an eyebrow, but he just opened the envelope, looking surprised when two bracelets fell out. 

Carefully hand braided blue, red and yellow strands weaving in and out in a pattern, matching with sun and moon charms. 

Dazai picked them up carefully, staring at them with wide eyes, cheeks pink as he admired them. 

"...You made these?" He asked, and Chuuya nodded, his face burning bright red. 

"And they're supposed to be matching, right?" Dazai asked excitedly, and Chuuya nodded again.

Dazai grinned, and he quickly came over to Chuuya, holding them. 

"Which ones mine?!" He asked, and Chuuya smiled, taking the one with the moon, and slipping it onto Dazai's wrist. 

"This one." He said, and Dazai put the other one on Chuuya's wrist for him, admiring the way they looked together.

"They're so pretty..." Dazai muttered in awe, and Chuuya cleared his throat. 

"There's a letter too. Go read it." He said, and Dazai glanced at him before going back to the bed, sitting on the floor this time with his back against it. 

Chuuya moved to the floor as well, sitting with him, watching anxiously for his reaction. 

He watched as Dazai began to read, feeling sick anf apprehensive. 

Sick, angry and jealous. 

That's how I feel. 

Hot and bothered like you're under my skin, teasing and taunting like nothing has happened. 

Like nothing had changed. 

You have upended my world, changed it and claimed it as your own, and worst? 

I can't complain. 

I'm sick and nauseous and the reason why is you, but it's adrenaline at the same time, you're like a drug I can't get enough of, killing me while I admire the colour it changes my vision to see.

To call you a muse would be an understatement, to call you pretty would be demeaning, to say I love you could never encompass the extent to which I care for you.

I want to be with you, forever.

Forever isn't enough. I could know you for my life and five more and I'd never have enough, there has been a part of me that has known you since before I could know anything else.

If the world doesn't want us, and heaven won't house us, I will keep us here. The sky will rain fire and the ground will grow molten, and we will be here, safe and warm, and alive, this room a haven, safe from the horrors.

We could float between constellations and carve our names into the stars, we could m old fate to our own design, I could force us together, damn all that tries to block our way. 

If nothing will have us, I will still have you.

We can be together, as one, over and over, again and again, universe after universe, you and I, Dazai and Chuuya, the moon and the stars, the planets and the asteroids. 

Religion is what I find in you, someone worth being devoted to, I find you in the perfect things, the sun, the rain, music, and art, and nature,

every thing worth living for I can trace back to you, a memory, a daydream, a wish, another sickening urge to keep you here, to preach my love and teach you how to pick out what I see. 

In my favourite dreams you are there, in our kitchen with the sun coming through the windows, in our garden teaching our kid to pick out plants, every time we are together, we are one.

If I have to settle as a friend, if I have to watch from afar, I will. But I love you. 

Since we were kids hiding behind trees, to the day I stop breathing. 

I love you. 

Forever.

-Chuuya.

By the time Dazai finished reading, Chuuya was refusing to look at him.

"...Chuuya-" Dazai started, then his voice broke, and he took a shaky breath. 

"I spent a lot of time on that." Chuuya muttered, and Dazai nodded. 

"I uhm... I guessed that." He said, wiping a tear from his face. 

"Well then? What did you think." Chuuya asked, trying to keep his voice level as he still refused to look at Dazai. 

Dazai was quiet, and then he moved, shifting closer to Chuuya, and he whispered next to him, pulling him into a tight hug. 

"I said it already, but I love you too. For forever. In everything." 

Chuuya felt his face go red, and he felt a little overwhelmed, unsure how to react. 

"Uhm... Thank you?" 

Dazai laughed a little, and pulled away slightly. 

Chuuya actually looked at Dazai now, his flushed cheeks and teary eyes, his messy hair and bitten lips. 

He swallowed, glancing down at Dazai's lips, and Dazai's hands moved to the sides of his face, his thumbs brushing against Chuuya's cheeks, cold against his warm skin. 

"You know. There's a few times we've almost done something I really want to... It'd be pretty cool if we could do that now." Dazai suggested vaguely. 

Chuuya scoffed, shifting and moving one of his hands to the side of Dazai's neck, able to feel Dazai's racing pulse. 

"You sure you really want to?" He asked, sounding teasing, but actually a little nervous, his heart hammering in his chest. 

"I've wanted to for years, Chuuya." Dazai breathed out, and he met Chuuya's eyes, looking the most sincere that Chuuya had ever seen him. 

"I've done it before. I've wanted to do it again since then. I want to do it again, forever." 

"We've kissed before?" Chuuya asked, slightly confused. 

"New years, two or three years ago." Dazai responded, bringing forward a memory Chuuya had forgotten, of him and Dazai under the tree while the fireworks. 

Chuuya swallowed, and nodded, looking down at Dazai's lips.

"Oh. Well, I don't think we did it right. There's no harm in trying again, is there?" 

"Not at all." Dazai answered. 

And then Chuuya leaned forward, and he was met halfway, and finally, he was kissing Dazai, their lips pressed together in a hesitant manner, sparks flying and setting fire to the butterflies in his stomach, and then it was over, and he looked at Dazai with wide eyes. 

"Again." He demanded, and Dazai grinned, happily leaning in for another, pausing to whisper against his lips first. 

"I love you, I really do." 

Chuuya just smiled, before kissing him again.

---

After dinner, and cake, an evening celebrated in Chuuya's kitchen, and then living room, they both crashed in Chuuya's bed, absolutely exhausted.

Chuuya was laying on his back, Dazai resting his head on his chest while Chuuya played with his hair. 

"Was today okay?" Chuuya asked quietly, and Dazai nodded, yawning. 

"I had fun. It was worth it." He muttered, half asleep on top of Chuuya. 

"Good, I'm glad." Chuuya responded, content to just let Dazai fall asleep, and then maybe sleep himself. 

But then his door was knocked on, and opened, and Kouyou stepped into the room. 

"Mori's here for you Dazai. Said he's picking you up." She said, smiling at him a little, and the change in Dazai was instant. 

He was wide awake in seconds, sat bolt upright with wide eyes and a panicked expression.

"Shit." He cursed, throwing himself up and grabbing his phone, not bothering with anything else. 

"What?" Chuuya asked in alarm, and Dazai shook his head. 

"Doesn't matter, just forgot I was supposed to be home like an hour ago." Dazai said, before pushing past Kouyou and downstairs. 

"Bye! Thank you for having me I'll be back- That's a threat!" He yelled, before Chuuya heard the front door slam.

Chuuya was standing in his doorway with Kouyou, and then he trudged down the stairs, confusion evident on his face. 

"What the hell was that?" He asked, and Kouyou, who had followed him, shrugged. 

"I don't know. His dad is pretty strict, right?" She suggested. 

"Maybe he is just late." 

Chuuya hummed, a bad feeling stirring in his gut.

He walked into the living room to ask his parents about it, but before he could say anything, there was a sharp pain across his face, and he swore. 

"Fuck!" he yelled, reaching up to his face, wincing at the force. 

His mother looked up to tell him to watch his language, until she saw his face. 

"What the fuck just happened to Dazai?" She asked. 

Chuuya's eyes widened as he rubbed his cheek, and he pulled out his phone and opened the camera to see a blue tint across his face. 

"His Dad just hit him." Chuuya realised. 

He stared at the mark, feeling incredibly sick. 

now what?

Chapter Text

Chuuya was still reeling, staring at the blue mark on his face.

"His Dad just what?" Kouyou asked from behind him, her voice sharp.

Chuuya couldn't respond before Kouyou was headed for the door, and she ran out it, closely followed by Chuuya, both in time to see Mori's car turn out the end of the street.

"Shit!" Kouyou swore, and Chuuya stared at her with wide eyes. He had never seen Kouyou this angry before.

She pushed past him back into the house, and Chuuya followed, his face stinging.

"Stand there," Kouyou ordered out, pointing at a spot in front of the hallway wall, pulling her phone out, and Chuuya obeyed instantly, hesitating once he was standing where he was told.

"What are you doing?" He asked, as Kouyou took a picture of the blue mark on his face.

"Gathering evidence. That mark isn't gonna stick around for long, and like fuck am I not doing anything." She muttered, turning away, and Chuuya looked after her with a sense of awe.

Then, his phone buzzed, and he pulled it out, seeing clearly on his lock screen, a two word message from Dazai.

'call ranpo'

Chuuya stood confused for a second, until he remembered his conversation with Ranpo a few days prior.

"If something happens, tell me.” Ranpo had said. 

Because Ranpo had suspicions that Dazai's father was hurting him. Dazai probably knew that, and Ranpo probably had a plan. 

So Chuuya pulled his phone out, and quickly left back to his room, glancing at Dazai's schoolbag still on his floor and feeling a tug at his heart, before dialing Ranpo. 

Ring...

Ring...

Ring... 

Ring...

The phone was picked up with an audible sigh from the other end. 

"Chuuya? What is it?" Ranpo asked, pausing the tv show he was watching, glancing out his window at the dark sky, unease creeping up on him as to why Chuuya was calling him at such an hour. 

"Ranpo." Chuuya said, the relief clear in his voice. "Something happened." He said, pacing back and forth in his room, chewing the skin around his nail.

Ranpo sat up, putting the packet of sweets he had been nibbling at to the side, feeling a little nauseous at the undertone of fear in Chuuya's voice. 

"What happened?" he asked, cautious and apprehensive. 

Chuuya glanced at his mirror, and the rapidly fading blue tint on his face. 

"Dazai's dad hit him when he left. Dazai's on his way back to his house now, just him and Mori I assume. Maybe Elise." 

Ranpo swore, and got up, grabbing a t-shirt that wasn't the tattered animal crossing one he had been planning to sleep in, and looking around for a zip up hoodie. 

"I knew it. Get your shoes on. We may be committing a crime." Ranpo said suddenly, and hung up the phone.

Chuuya blinked a few times as the line went dead, but he didn't question it, just grabbing a jumper and heading downstairs for his shoes. 

When Kouyou saw him pulling them on, she joined him, and Chuuya looked at her questioningly, before she responded with a huff. 

"I can guess where you're going. I'm coming with you. You're not going alone and mum and dad need to stay here with Kyouka." She said, lacing up her boots at the same time as Chuuya laced up his. 

"I think Ranpo's getting his Dad." Chuuya said, and he stood up, internally thanking the stars for the fact his sister could get so viciously protective. 

"We'll wait outside then." She decided for him, and they didn't say anything to their parents before leaving.

---

Fukuzawa sat in his kitchen, rubbing his forehead as he stared at his laptop, another night of trying to find a solution to the nagging problem at the back of his mind- Dazai. 

Another evening trying to figure out coincidences between his absences and his grades and every little thing he could find that might give him just enough reason to call social work and launch an investigation.

He looked up from his laptop as he heard quiet footsteps coming towards him, and Ranpo appeared in the doorway, looking vaguely hesitant and holding his phone. 

"Is something wrong, Ranpo?" Fukuzawa asked, holding his arm out and gesturing for Ranpo to come further into the room. 

Ranpo instead opted to stay where he was, and he just nodded. 

"...I have something I need to tell you." He said quietly, almost guiltily.

Fukuzawa frowned, concerned, and he shifted in his seat to face Ranpo. 

"What is it?" He asked cautiously, noticing that Ranpo had changed his clothes, and looked like he planned to leave.

Ranpo took a deep breath, before speaking hurriedly. 

"Dazai's in trouble." Ranpo blurted out, looking like he might throw up. 

Fukuzawa's first reaction was minor panic, but judging by Ranpo's expression, he was feeling more than enough panic for both of them, so he took a careful breath, and spoke calmly. 

"What do you mean, is it something I need to help fix?" He asked, and Ranpo nodded, gripping his phone tightly enough Fukuzawa was surprised it wasn't breaking. 

"We need to get him, we can't leave him there." Ranpo said, his voice wavering slightly. 

"Leave him where? At his house?" Fukuzawa asked, already getting up and sorting through the things on the table to find his car keys.

"Yeah." Ranpo said, nodding. He took a deep and shaky breath, following Fukuzawa as they went to the door, slipping their shoes on. 

"We need to get Chuuya. He knows where Dazai lives, and how his house is laid out, and Dazai can stay with him, and-" Ranpo rambled, until Fukuzawa gently cut him off. 

"Okay. We'll get Chuuya, does Dazai have any other family you can contact?" He asked, leaving the house and getting into the car as Ranpo got into the passenger seat. 

Ranpo shook his head, taking another shaky breath. 

"His older brother died, and I don't have contact with his brother's fiancé. Dazai might have messaged him though." Ranpo explained, and Fukuzawa just began to drive, deciding to gloss over the sudden information that Oda had died for now, and revisit that later.

"Okay, do you know if his sister is there? Is she safe?" Fukuzawa asked, trying to remember the directions to Chuuya's house from the last time Yosano or Ranpo went over. 

"Chuuya thinks Elise is with them. I don't think she should be there alone if we're taking Dazai away." Ranpo said, anxiously pulling at his hair. 

Fukuzawa sighed, and nodded. 

"Alright." 

He paused, glancing at Ranpo out of the corner of his eye, the way he was pulling on the hair at the nape of his neck so tightly that he was wincing. 

"Ranpo, you're going to pull your hair out." He said, trying to keep his tone level and calm. 

"I know, but otherwise I'm going to scratch, and last time it bled, and I don't want that. I'm just- This is overwhelming." Ranpo said, fighting to get the words out, to articulate his thoughts in a way that would make sense.

Fukuzawa hummed, and nodded, glancing at Ranpo again in concern.

"There might be one of those cooling packs in the glovebox if that'll help." 

"Yeah, but will it actually be cold..." Ranpo muttered, but he leaned forward to open the glove box, his expression visibly relieved as he found it. 

Ranpo then curled up in the seat with the, clearly at least somewhat cold, cool pack pressed awkwardly between his lifted t-shirt and inner arms. 

Normally Fukuzawa would tell him off for not sitting properly in the seat, but he just kept his eyes on the road, regretting his choice of route as he was stopped at some roadworks he had been unaware of. 

Ranpo was quiet in his seat, just breathing slowly, so Fukuzawa looked at him properly, frowning a little. 

"Are you alright, Ranpo?" He asked. He was concerned that maybe it was a little more than just overwhelming. 

"I don't wanna talk." Ranpo muttered, hiding his face in his knees, voice quiet and forced. 

Fukuzawa looked at the road again, leaning back in his seat, taking his hands off the wheel for a second to roll down a window and let in some fresh air. 

"Bad memories?" He asked, and Ranpo grumbled unhappily. 

He sighed, looking out at the passing cars, the streetlights shining down on the road. 

"You and Dazai are scarily similar, I admit. There's a degree of guilt I hold towards myself for the situation Dazai is in currently." 

He was interrupted by a sharp and shaky inhale from Ranpo, who just curled in on himself tighter.

Fukuzawa sighed again, heavier this time. 

"I have never been in the situation you were in. I have never been in the one Yosano was in. I have never been in the one Dazai is in. I don't know how it feels to watch someone so similar to me go through something so similar to what I've experienced." 

"I should have said something." Ranpo interrupted him with, his voice choked and audibly upset.

"You shouldn't feel guilty for not saying anything. It wasn't your responsibility. It is not a failing on your part, or Dazai's. It is the fault of the adults around Dazai, including me, who let it get this bad." 

"But- I knew. I knew what he was doing, what his Dad was saying, I had my suspicions he was being hurt, I knew he tried to kill himself, and that he'd try again, and I didn't do anything, because all I thought was that I wouldn't have wanted someone to! It was selfish. It's my fault. If I had-" Ranpo rambled, his voice breaking as he spoke, words muffled but painfully clear at the same time.

"No, Ranpo," Fukuzawa responded, cutting him off. 

"It's not your fault. You did what you thought was best. It wasn't your job to fix it." 

Ranpo just shook his head in his knees, taking a deep and shuddery breath.

"But it wasn't what was best. And I know that. I'm just stupid. I got blinded by my own experience." 

"You are the furthest thing from stupid Ranpo. You are, however, still a child. Therefore it was never your responsibility to solve Dazai's abuse on your own." 

Ranpo shook his head even more adamantly, before he just sobbed, his shoulders shaking. 

"I'm sorry. I don't know why I'm like this. I just wanted to keep him safe." He choked out through tears.

Fukuzawa sighed, and he rolled the window back up as the light finally began to change. 

"I just want him to be okay." Ranpo whispered. 

Fukuzawa took a deep breath, and the light turned to green. 

"We all do. It'll be okay." 

---

Dazai looked up from his phone, the silence in the car deadly. 

He shook his leg anxiously, bouncing it up and down as he saw his message to Chuuya get marked as read. 

The one he had just sent to Ango hadn't been seen yet. That was fine. Even if nobody came, he had always been capable of saving himself on his own. 

Elise was on the other side of the car, alternating between staring at his like she wasn't sure he was alive, and refusing to look in his direction. 

He swallowed thickly as the car pulled into the driveway, taking a shaky breath, and getting out once it had stopped. 

He got out the opposite side to where he was sitting so he was close behind Elise, and he whispered as quietly as he could. 

"Go to your room, and pretend you've gone to sleep. Do not, and I mean do not, come out until you hear something hit your window." He said as they quickly entered the house, and Elise looked like she might protest for a second, until the door slammed, and she just quickly ran up the stairs. 

Dazai winced at the sound, and he went into the kitchen, eyes instantly flitting to anything that could be used to hurt him, or protect himself.

"This is a really interesting interpretation of 'be home straight after school'." Mori said behind him, voice dangerously calm. 

Dazai nodded, his back crawling as he turned to face Mori with a smile. 

"I suppose so. I've always been a little flexible with deadlines though. If you ask my teachers, a few hours late is honestly a record for how punctual-" 

He was cut off by a hand swinging in his direction, and he scrambled backwards, ending up pressed against the fridge. 

"Okay- yeah, sorry." He muttered as an apology, shivering at the cold metal pressed against his back. 

Mori glared at him, stepping forward and getting uncomfortably close for the fact that Dazai had nowhere to run. 

"Ango is extremely concerned for your wellbeing, even more so after you wouldn't show up while I was getting Elise. Who must have said something, given how he was trying to encourage me to let her stay a little longer." 

Dazai tried his best to look as defiant as possible, staring back at Mori. 

"Ango knows I'm always at Chuuya's on my birthday. And it's not my job to monitor what Elise is or isn't saying to anyone." He said, lifting his chin slightly, pretending his hands weren't shaking, and he wasn't secretly trying to devise a plan to run out.

Mori didn't look anywhere near impressed with Dazai's response, and instead just scowled.

"I specifically requested you would be there. You agreed. You directly disobeyed what I told you to do. What do you think the consequence for that should be?" 

Dazai hummed, pretending to think it over. 

"Ice cream? That stuff really makes my stomach hurt you know. Maybe a permanent ban on strawberry scented things?" He suggested, and Mori drew his arm back, preparing to hit Dazai again. 

Dazai's breath hitched, and his eyes darted to the new opening to push past Mori. 

So he ducked, pushing against the wall and scrambling forward to duck out of the way and behind Mori, nearly falling as he did so, but coming out he other side unscathed, turning back to face Mori with wide eyes.

Mori turned back on him quickly, and Dazai flinched when Mori spoke. 

"To your room. Now." 

Dazai hesitated, his thoughts jumping to his instructions for Elise. 

He didn't know if she would have had enough time to have gotten ready and be in bed yet. He didn't know if it was safe yet. 

"It's kind of boring in there, I'd really rather just have a family movie night or something." He said, trying to be antagonistic, smiling. 

At that, Mori paused, and crossed his arms. 

"Actually, I was in your room today. I think it's quite interesting there." Mori said, and Dazai felt his blood run cold.

"...Really?" He asked, voice coming out more strained than he would have liked. 

"Would you like to know what I found?" Mori asked, not giving Dazai a chance to answer before walking over and grabbing his upper arm to pull him along. 

Dazai panicked, breathing growing short instantly, the hand gripping him tightly launching him straight back into the hospital room he had been pinned down in. 

But he was dragged out into the back garden, and let go of while Mori disappeared. 

He just stood, shocked and waiting for Mori to come back outside, holding his own arm where Mori had held him, trying to get his breathing under control again. 

Then Mori came back outside, and Dazai instantly recognised what he was holding. 

His sketchbook. 

Dazai's eyes widened. 

He swore he had hidden that.

He could feel his heart in his throat, and all words were torn from him as he stared at the way Mori was holding it, the spine pinched between his thumb and forefinger like it he was holding a rag. 

"Interesting, don't you think?" Mori said, looking at Dazai with a calculating gaze. 

"I found it down the back of the drawers in your bedside table. Along with a collection of broken sharpeners, but that was to be expected." 

Dazai just kept staring, and work he had put towards leveling out his breathing proven futile as he had to fight for each breath. 

"Among the things I found, such as tests graded less than an A, clothes that certainly do not belong to you, eyeliner, even- this was the most interesting." Mori said, and then he pulled out something else that instantly made Dazai feel sick. 

"Have you ever smoked, Dazai? There were a few lighters hidden behind your drawers as well." 

Dazai cleared his throat, and shook his head. 

Mori tutted. 

"Don't lie to me. Took that habit after your brother, I'd assume. Either way, this has presented me with a unique opportunity." Mori said, and in one swift movement, he sparked the lighter and moved it under the pages of Dazai's sketchbook. 

"Wait stop!" Dazai screamed, and Mori dropped the smouldering book on the stone path, the flames licking up the covers and eating at the pages. 

Dazai broke out of whatever trance he was in, and he jumped forward, falling to his knees and not even flinching at the sharp pain, chest heaving and eyes filling with tears. 

He looked around desperately for something to put it out with, but he couldn't find anything that wouldn't be a greater fire hazard. 

Instead, he just pulled up the sleeves of his hoodie, not hesitating before pressing his bare hands against the burning pages. 

He didn't even register the pain of his hands burning, too busy sobbing and attempting to put it out before any more damage could be done. 

He didn't notice his bandages caught either, until Mori swore behind him and dragged him away to run his arm under the outside tap. 

"No! No! No!" Dazai yelled, pulling away again and just scrambling back to the book, squashing out the last of the flames. 

He stared, chest heaving at the remnants of his sketchbook, smoke making his eyes burn as he looked at the charred covers, and the few completely burnt away pages, others only half burned, but none without at least a corner burnt away.

Mori sighed, coming up behind him. 

"You really need to learn to be more careful with your belongings Dazai." He said, and Dazai felt dazed, the feeling of his burning palms finally becoming noticeable, along with the pain on his arm where the bandages had burned away.

"...But I didn't do anything wrong." Dazai whispered helplessly.

Mori hummed. 

"That's where you're wrong. You've done a lot of things. And all those papers I found, with the low grades? You haven't made up for those." 

Mori kneeled down on the ground next to him, and unwrapped his bandages on his left arm, the one that hadn't burned, and pressed some familiar into Dazai's hand, small and metal. 

"I can't hurt you properly. But Chuuya knows you've been hurting yourself. Therefore, you're going to need to do this, instead of me doing it." Mori said, and Dazai stared blankly at the razor blade he was holding in his red and blistering hand. 

Dazai couldn't even think, his head hurting so badly it felt like there was air in his skull, building up pressure until he might just explode. 

He took a shaky breath, and after a moment spent staring, he shook his head. 

"No." He said, fighting through the infuriating haze over his thoughts, and dropping the razor. 

"I won't, I'm not doing it. Not like this." He said, voice weak and wrecked, but firm nonetheless. 

Mori scowled, but stood up. 

"Go to your room. Now." He said instead of pushing Dazai into it, much to Dazai's surprise. 

He didn't hesitate in scrambling up, running up the stairs as fast as he could and slamming his door behind him, unsurprised at the mess he found his room in, one clearly not made by him.

A few moments later, and he heard a key in his door, and the lock click, and he swore, but then just sunk down to the floor, staring at his hands, and the burns clear and ugly compared to the rest of his skin. 

He took a deep breath, poking at the swelling skin and thanking god that it didn't appear to be anything more than a handful of second degree burns. 

He patted down his pockets for his phone, and groaned, realising he must have dropped it outside or in the kitchen. 

He chewed on his lip for a second, struggling to think, until his eyes landed on a broken pencil, and an idea struck him.

---

"What the fuck!" 

Chuuya was practically in hysterics, Ranpo holding onto his arm with wide eyes as they processed the sudden blue shades across the palms of Chuuya's hands and up Chuuya's right arm.

"What the hell..." He muttered, trying to calm down as he remembered they were driving, his heart still racing. 

Thank god this one hadn't hurt. 

Ranpo was holding onto him so tightly Chuuya was surprised he hasn't bruised, and there was only a few moments of quiet before Ranpo frowned. 

It took Chuuya a second to notice it too, but then he noticed the faint blue lines on the back of his left hand, spelling out 'leg'. 

"...what?" Chuuya asked in confusion, until there was a slightly painful scratching on his lower leg, an his eyes widened. 

Quickly, he shifted, and pulled up his trousers to see more blue lines in his skin. 

'coming?' the lines spelled out. 

"It's Dazai." Ranpo said, surprised, and then scrambled around, before finding an empty can he had left in the footwell of the back of the car, and snapping off the tab. 

"Here, respond with this." He instructed, and Chuuya took it, only slightly confused. 

He hesitated, but then, he used it to scratch out a response, a raised red line appearing wherever he dragged the can tab. 

Dazai sighed in relief as faint red lines spelling 'yes' came up next to the pinkish marks left from the broken pencil. 

Ranpo and Chuuya watched apprehensively as Dazai responded, taking a while to scratch out the sentence. 

'throw a rock at Elise's window for the signal'

Chuuya frowned, confused. 

"He must have a plan, and Elise is probably a part of it." Ranpo muttered, and at that moment they pulled up just down the street from Dazai's house. 

Quickly, Ranpo and Chuuya ran out the car, and Fukuzawa and Kouyou followed. 

As they neared, another car pulled up, and Ango stepped out, looking harried and like he'd already had three panic attacks. 

Kouyou froze in her tracks, as did Ango. 

"Kouyou?" 

"Ango?" 

They asked at the same time in disbelief. 

Chuuya rolled his eyes, uninterested in how Kouyou knew Oda's fiancé, and instead, he and Ranpo just quickly ran to Dazai's front garden, thankful for the dark sky. 

"I'll throw the rock." Chuuya muttered, searching the ground for one, quickly pinpointing which room was Elise's by the princess themed curtains that had been left slightly open. 

Ranpo just murmured his agreement, and passed Chuuya a rock to use, to which Chuuya didn't hesitate in tossing. 

The small rock didn't make a huge sound, just hitting the window then dropping into the grass. 

Seconds later, Elise was looking out the window, but Chuuya didn't get the chance to wave before she disappeared. 

---

Dazai picked through his clothes, shoving some he recognised into a bag. 

Anything he could think of he might need was shoved in there. 

There was no way he was coming back here. 

He was interrupted by a small knock on his door, and he dropped the bag, instead going to the door and kneeling down, whispering. 

"Elise?" He asked, and a quiet response could be hear. 

"Yeah..." She muttered on the othe side, and Dazai melted in relief, pressing his head against the door. 

"Oh, okay, good. Hey Elise? You know those black hair pins that I put in your hair sometimes?" He asked, not wasting any time. 

"Uhm, yeah?" She responded quietly. 

"Do you have any? Can you push them under the door?" He asked urgently, and Elise must have heard the slight panic in his tone, because while she didn't respond right away, she left, and second later was back, pushing a few pins under the door. 

Dazai was quick, picking them up and using his teeth to bend them, muttering instructions at the same time. 

"Alright Elise, I'll be out in a second, right now can you go to your room and find a bag, and put some of your clothes in it for me?" He asked, and he heard as Elise hesitated. 

"Why?" She asked quietly, and Dazai tried not to get frustrated at the question, because to him it was pretty obvious why, and instead just pushing two of the bent pins into the lock on his door. 

"Because we're not going to come back here for a while." He said, gritting his teeth as he fiddled with the pins in the lock, hearing the first click, the anchor pin giving way slightly. 

"Dad has been mean too much, and there's going to be someone who helps us so we don't have to come back." He said, wincing as one of the pins pressed into a blister on his hand. 

"Like Ango?" Elise asked, and Dazai sent out a silent prayer that Ango had read his message and was outside with Chuuya and hopefully Ranpo. 

"Yeah, like Ango. Ango should be waiting for you outside now." He said, not wanting to make an empty promise but doing so anyway.

With another click, the anchor twisted even more, a sense of pride not befitting the moment filling Dazai. He was surprisingly good at this.

"If we go will you not try and die again?" Elise asked, sounding impossibly small on the other side of the door. 

Dazai faltered, almost breaking the pins. 

He hesitated, thinking back to the scream. Her scream. 

And he took a deep breath. 

"Yeah. If we go, I won't try and die again." He promised, meaning it, and there was a third click.

Elise seemed to be satisfied, because instead of asking any more questions, she left, and Dazai just focused on the lock, managing to get the next to clicks in quick succession, twisting all the way and undoing the lock keeping his door shut. 

He could have cried in relief, his whole body trembling as he slumped against the door for a second, but then his attention was drawn back to his half packed bag. 

The rest of his stuff was thrown in haphazardly, the bag being stuffed full and closed quickly. 

His bedroom door was opened quietly, and he turned to see Elise, standing with a bag and a jumper on over her pyjamas. 

He kneeled down, and came forward to hug him tightly, clinging onto his for a second. 

Dazai wanted to just let her cling to him for a while, but he couldn't, and instantly started telling her what to do next. 

"Leave your bag here, I'll throw it to whoever's outside. Go downstairs, and check the kitchen for my phone. Grab your shoes, don't worry about putting them on, but grab them, and if my phone wasn't in the kitchen, it'll be outside."

"Go outside, and go to the side fence, Ango should be there, and he'll get you, okay?" He instructed, pulling away and fixing her jumper for her. 

Elise nodded, shaking a little, and Dazai smiled. 

"If Dad asks what you're doing, just say you were thirsty and getting a drink, or had a headache, okay?" 

Elise nodded again.

"Okay." She agreed shakily, only looking at Dazai for a moment more before leaving, closing the door behind her. 

Dazai ran a hand though his hair, shaking, but he stood up, and darted to his window, opening the blinds, and quickly pushing it open. 

Out in the street, he quickly noticed Chuuya and Ranpo, then Ango and Kouyou, and finally Fukuzawa.

Ango was the first to notice him, and directed the others attention in his direction. 

Dazai put a finger to his lips, then pointed at Ango, directing him to the side gate for Elise. 

He didn't actually wait for anyone before going and grabbing his and Elise's bag, dropping them from his window onto the grass, but Ranpo got the message and went to grab them, pulling them out of the way. 

Dazai took a deep breath, and paused, staring down at the ground. 

That drop was a lot higher than he remembered. 

But he had done this before. 

So, with an audience this time, he sat on his windowsill, and swung a leg over the edge. 

If Elise got caught downstairs, she could play it off. If he did... 

He'd rather risk falling. 

Dazai stopped for a moment, a realisation hitting his as he stared down at his hands. 

He wasn't wearing bandages. 

One half had burned, subsequently falling, and the other had been unwrapped by Mori.

He also had burns covering both his palms. 

He knew it he looked out to the various people watching this, he'd probably see various degrees of worry and anxiety, so he didn't, instead swinging the other leg over and dropping suddenly. 

He hissed, shoulders and elbows complaining at the sudden exertion, but his hands were the main issue, burning pain making them feel like he was attempting to douse his sketchbook again. 

But despite this, he was holding on tightly, and he held his breath, shifting along his window, trying to get the the garage roof, the same way he did the night Oda died.

Moving from one side of the windowsill to the other wasn't difficult. He knew from experience. 

It was the transition from the windowsill to the roof. 

Despite himself, as Dazai got the point he couldn't go any further, he looked down. 

The grass didn't seem like a soft landing anymore. He could see the faint shadows cast by someone standing nearby, clearly freaking out but to nervous about causing a ruckus to say anything. 

Quickly, Dazai looked back up again, clinging to the windowsill for dear life.

Then, taking a deep breath, he reached out, kicking over to the roof, and barely getting a foot on it before his hands slipped. 

He went tumbling, foot slipping from the roof as he attempted to jump to it, causing him to hit it awkwardly, hearing more than feeling the impact with his ribcage as he scrambled for purchase before he could fall. 

He managed to find it, barely, holding on by his fingertips, wincing at the pain pretty much everywhere, seeing black spots at the edge of his vision. 

If there's one thing Dazai is clear about with his own mental health, it's that he does not have an eating disorder. 

At least, not a typical one. He doesn't restrict himself on purpose. He doesn't throw up. He doesn't each too much. But eating makes him feel sick. It's difficult. Too many factors come into it. 

There are thousands of reasons why his relationship with food is ruined. One of them, he is in the process of running away from. 

But the same logic can be applied. He doesn't eat enough. He is underweight, and lacks energy. 

One thing drilled into him is that if he stops eating, his metabolism will slow. However, that wasn't quite the case. No, for Dazai, the moment he was eating a somewhat healthy amount of food, his metabolism was straight back to the way it was. 

Only now his body had realised what it was missing. 

So when Dazai's body realised it needed to replenish energy and fast the moment he ate three meals, the next day, when all he ate was a slushie and his dinner, it got a bit of a shock. 

And so, Dazai's vision went black, his muscles went weak, and he crashed to the ground.

Chuuya has to slap a hand over his mouth to prevent himself from screaming. 

One second, Dazai was hanging a few feet off the ground, and the next, he was a heap on the grass.

He ran forward, and hesitated before touching Dazai, who groaned in response to Chuuya shaking his shoulder. 

"Five more minutes..." Dazai muttered, before giggling slightly, and Chuuya felt a wave of relief. 

"God, Dazai..." He muttered, pulling him up. 

Dazai gasped in pain, legs buckling underneath him as he was lifted up, but he just leaned on Chuuya for support, limping. 

Chuuya hated every gasp of pain from Dazai as they hurried to Ango's car, which Elise and Ranpo were already in. 

Fukuzawa and Kouyou both went to Fukuzawa's car, and Dazai was sat in the middle seat while Chuuya climbed in on the right, closing the door sharply. 

"Go, quick, Dazai falling was not quiet." He hissed, and Ango was quick, pulling away, being followed by Fukuzawa. 

Dazai winced next to him, clutching his ribs, his breathing slightly laboured.

Chuuya glanced at him worriedly. 

"I think you need to go to a hospital."

Dazai tensed up instantly, holding himself tighter. 

"Absolutely not, I'm not going, I'm fine." He snapped quickly, and Chuuya recoiled, bit expecting that. 

"You can hardly walk-"

"I'll be fine." Dazai cut him off, but leaned into Chuuya, cradling his arm carefully. 

Chuuya felt nauseous, his eyes drawn to the uncovered skin, the fresh and old injuries, the scars of varying severity. 

But Ango glanced at his through the rearview mirror, and Chuuya just fell quiet, letting Dazai rest against him without another word. 

---

Somehow they all ended up in Ango's apartment.

Dazai was standing and leaning against a wall, while Fukuzawa helped Elise sort out the things she had put in her bag. She was going to stay with Ango again. 

He had to fight the urge to wince every time he breathed, most people had something else they were doing- Ranpo was sitting quietly with his headphones on, Chuuya and Kouyou were standing together in another room, debriefing their parents on what had happened. 

Ango reappeared, holding a bag of frozen peas and a tea towel. 

"Sit down." Ango directed him, and Dazai did as he was told. 

He sat in the chair he was directed to, and Ango kneeled, taking his shoe off for him, pulling down his sock to see his left ankle, which was already swelling and bruising.

"You're going to need to get this seen." Ango said, pulling over a stool, and wrapping the peas in the towel before putting it over Dazai's ankle.

"I don't want too." Dazai responded childishly, cringing at the whine in his tone.

"I'll get Fukuzawa to take you. Or Chuuya's parents." Ango said, his tone firm, he clearly wasn't going to compromise on it. 

Dazai squirmed uncomfortable, tearing up despite himself. 

"I don't want too. Last time-" He cut himself off, shaking his head, not finishing his sentence. 

Ango shook his head, and he just moved to sit next to Dazai, slowly lifting his shirt, inspecting the purple and blue bruises already forming across his lower ribs, from either where the roof had hurt him, or his elbows had when he fell. 

"That'll need checked too." 

"It's not dangerous. Just bruising. I'd know if I was bleeding internally, or had broken something." Dazai interjected, and Ango sighed. 

"It'll get checked anyway." He said firmly. 

Ango's eyes flicked to the burns on Dazai's hands, and up the side of his right arm. 

"It's too late to do anything about the burns." Dazai said in a whisper. "They can wait." 

Ango seemed willing to let that go, and just got up again. 

"I don't have bandages." He said, crossing his arms uncomfortably. 

"I don't either." Dazai muttered. "They were in the bathroom." 

Ango raised his eyebrow. 

"So you couldn't grab any?" He asked in confusion. 

Dazai scowled. 

"Mori locked the bedroom door. If I was seen out of the room, I would have been done for."

Ango felt sick. 

"Oh Dazai... Why didn't you tell me? Or Oda? I never thought you'd ever..." He asked quietly, swallowing. 

Dazai shrugged, wincing at the movement. 

"I just didn't. I guess." He muttered guiltily. 

After a second, Ango sat back down next to Dazai, and carefully pulled him in for a hug, holding him like he was scared Dazai would break. 

"Please, never do anything like this again."

Dazai shifted, slightly uncomfortable, but he smiled awkwardly, and joked about it.

"Are you referring to suicide, getting hit, or falling off roofs?" He asked. 

Ango definitely didn't find it as funny as he did, flicking him gently. 

"Any of those things, preferably." 

Dazai swallowed, and pulled away, looking down at his busted ankle, and his burned hands. 

"I'll try. They were a little overrated to be honest. A lot more painful than they look in movies." He whispered.

Ango actually scoffed at that, and then Fukuzawa came in, and took a seat on the other side of Dazai, sighing heavily. 

Ango glanced between him and Fukuzawa, before quickly grabbing something, and showing it to Dazai. 

It was his sketchbook, still clearly burnt and smelling of smoke, but still his sketchbook. 

"Elise found it, along with your phone. They were outside." Ango said softly. 

Then, he got up, going to the other side of the room to grab a gift bag, bringing it over. 

"Happy birthday, by the way." 

Dazai glanced around the room, and then down at himself. 

Right. It was his birthday.

"Thank you." He said, taking the bag and opening it, eyes widening at the contents, a sketchbook almost exactly the same, just bound in brown rather than grey.

"Oh." He breathed out, running his fingers over the cover.

Funny, both Chuuya and Ango had gotten him sketchbooks.

"You mentioned the other one was almost full at some point." Ango said, nudging Dazai gently.

"Perfect timing." Dazai mumbled, unsure how to thank Ango properly. He hadn't been expecting a gift from him. 

Ango just smiled sadly as Dazai put both sketchbooks back in the bag, and Ango took it from him to put out of the way. 

"I'm sorry your birthday had to be like this." Ango said, and Dazai nodded. 

"Yeah. Me too, I guess." 

After that, Ango got up, leaving to check on Elise, despite that being where Fukuzawa assumedly just came from. 

Dazai didn't want to be the first to say anything, and instead, they sat in silence until Fukuzawa sighed. 

"Mori was my soulmate, you know?" Fukuzawa said, thinking. 

Dazai blinked. No. He hadn't known that. He stated as such. 

"No? I thought my mother was his soulmate." He said, his mood shifting as he turned to look at Fukuzawa curiously. 

"That explains why you and him were so close though." 

Fukuzawa nodded. 

"He married your mother after she fell pregnant with Oda. He used to be quite a nice person. When your mother was pregnant with you, it was quite different though. She changed, it wasn't as easy for them, and by the time both you and Elise were born, I think their relationship had been quite ruined." 

Dazai was quiet, thinking for a moment. 

"I don't remember my mum very well." He whispered. "Why didn't you and Mori just marry?" 

He expected Fukuzawa to tire of the questions quickly, but Fukuzawa just answered patiently. 

"There were a few reasons. We never dated because of out career paths. We didn't have time. He was trying to become a surgeon, and I was studying whatever caught my interest any given year. Even if we had, at the time it would have been illegal to marry. It wasn't legalised until shortly after Elise was born." 

Dazai hummed, and he pulled the leg that wasn't resting on the stool into his chest, resting his cheek on it. 

"Why did Mori change, then?" He asked, not meaning to sound accusing, but he did. "Why did my mum leave me? Why did you leave me?"

Fukuzawa, again, didn't get mad or exasperated by his questions, making Dazai almost wish he would. 

"Your mother didn't leave, Dazai." He said softly. 

"She committed suicide." 

Dazai, for a moment, felt what was left of his world shatter, and crumble around him. 

"...She what?" He asked, voice breaking. 

Fukuzawa sighed. 

"She took her own life. I won't tell you how. But Mori was the one on duty when they brought her in. He couldn't save her. I think something broke that day." 

Dazai was struggling to breathe, and to think, and he shook his head adamantly. 

"No! Mori was an ass before she left- died, that can't have been it." He insisted. 

Fukuzawa looked at him sympathetically, and just continued speaking. 

"I didn't know what he was doing. I don't know what caused- causes, him to treat you this way. But he wouldn't let me help. After a while, I realised Mori wasn't going to change. So I left as well. I'm sorry for that." 

Dazai shook his head again. 

"No- I don't- I don't care!" He suddenly snapped. 

"I don't care why. I don't. He can have his own, fucked up reasons, and I can hate him for them all."

Fukuzawa tilted his head, considering Dazai, and Dazai just looked back at him defiantly, his bottom lip trembling. 

"...Good." Fukuzawa said after a moment. 

"Hate him. Hate him for it, and feel angry. Know that no matter why he did it, he was wrong for it. For now, that's all you can do. In a few days, or maybe in a few years, you might run out of anger. You'll sit with your anger long enough you'll learn to recognise it as grief. Until then, if anger is what is going to get you out of bed in the morning, and if anger is what is going to help you keep going, utilise it."

Dazai blinked in shock, absorbing Fukuzawa's words like each one was a punch to his gut. 

"Feeling angry is better than feeling nothing, and I have a suspicion you've been feeling that a little bit too much recently." 

That was the final blow for Dazai, and he just broke, shifting and burying his face in his arms to hold back his tears.

There was a hand gently rubbing his back a second later, and it took all Dazai had to not start wailing like he was some five year old who lost his parents. He felt like one.

Then Fukuzawa took a deep breath and started speaking again.

"I believe you're staying with Chuuya tonight, while I clear a room for you to come stay with me. Elise seems pretty comfortable here, so we're not going to move her." 

He explained, voice low and soothing.

"I'm going to speak with Ango and Kouyou, and we're going to figure out legalities together. But we're not letting you go back there. Under any circumstances. Is that okay?" 

Dazai nodded into his arms, sniffling and wincing as he brushed against the burn up his arm. 

Fukuzawa seemed to notice, and a second later he was being guided up. 

"We'll clean the burns together, and then I'll take you, Chuuya and Kouyou back home, alright?" 

Dazai blinked numbly, and swallowed and nodded, surprised by the complete lack of reaction as Fukuzawa's fingers brushed over the various exposed scars and scabs on his arms.

"Tomorrow, we'll ask Miss Alcott to look at your injuries, you know her quite well by now, don't you?" Dazai nodded. He didn't mind that as much. He just didn't want to go to a hospital.

"That's good then. Come on, there should probably be something to clean these with in the bathroom."

---

The drive back to Chuuya's house felt long. 

Actually, he's pretty sure Fukuzawa took the longest route on purpose. 

He understands why, sandwiched between Chuuya and Ranpo, who were both clinging to him like he'd disappear any second. 

Which once again. He understands why.

Ranpo even hugged him first, when they arrived. 

Fukuzawa told him if he came into school the next day, he wouldn't be expected to attend classes. He could just sit in his office and read, or watch a movie. Chuuya was welcome too.

Dazai didn't acknowledge him verbally. He just wanted to sleep. For a really long time, if possible. 

Kouyou held the door open as Chuuya helped him limp inside.

Chuuya's parents had waited up. 

The concern had been palpable as they saw the state Dazai was in, maybe smelled the smoke, maybe finally caught sight of what had been under Dazai's bandages for months.

They had just hugged, gently and tightly all at once. He would have cried. He really would have. He was just so tired. 

So Dazai sat numbly on the couch between Chuuya and Chuuya's mum while Kouyou and Chuuya explained everything they knew. 

For all Fukuzawa had said about anger, and that feeling angry was better than feeling nothing, right now he wasn't sure he could feel anything other than tired.

Until he was half asleep against Chuuya, and suddenly he was being scooped up and carried, tensing and then relaxing almost instantly when he realised it was Chuuya's Dad.

He distantly registered Chuuya complaining it wasn't fair Dazai was being carried and he wasn't, as though he wasn't sixteen years old, and couldn't walk for himself, but Dazai supposed he could understand, the warmth and comfortability being something he hadn't really got before. 

He could understand wanting this forever. 

He's going to need to convince Chuuya to become really strong so he can have this forever.

Chuuya came out the bathroom, wiping toothpaste from his mouth and sighing, standing in the doorway of his room, staring at the almost pitiful sight of Dazai curled up in Chuuya's bed.

He closed his bedroom door, the only light now coming from the lamp on the bedside table. 

Carefully, he climbed over Dazai to the side of the bed against the wall, shimmying under the covers and trying not to disturb him.

Until Dazai spoke quietly. 

"I'm sorry if I ruined your day." 

Chuuya sighed, and lay on his side to face Dazai, meeting his eyes. 

"You definitely didn't." He responded just as quietly.

After a second, Dazai hummed. 

"We never actually decided something." Dazai said, like he had just realised it. 

"What's that?" Chuuya asked, yawning tiredly. 

"Whether we're boyfriends not or not." Dazai said, looking at Chuuya curiously.

Chuuya raised an eyebrow. 

"Are we not?" He asked. He thought that had been pretty obvious when they were kissing repeatedly. 

Dazai shrugged, then winced. 

"I don't know, are we?" 

Chuuya hummed, then he shifted closer to Dazai, carefully pressing his hand against his face. 

"I think so." He said, feeling his cheeks heat up. He still wasn't used to the entire 'not being mean to compensate and hide his feelings' thing yet. 

Dazai smiled stupidly. 

"Good, cause let me tell you, my day has been hell I think if I had gotten a different answer, I would have killed myself on the spot." 

Chuuya's jaw dropped, and he scoffed in shock. 

"Dazai! You of all people, cannot make suicide jokes anymore." 

Dazai pouted and whined. 

"But they're funny!" He complained, and Chuuya scowled. 

"Shut the fuck up," he muttered, and Dazai could barely get out the first syllable of a 'make me' before Chuuya kissed him softly.

Dazai melted, and when they pulled away, Chuuya wrapped his arms around Dazai's shoulders, pulling his into his chest. 

"Go to sleep." He whispered, and Dazai huffed in protest, but was already beyond exhausted, and scraping up the energy for the conversation he had just had, sapped the last of it from him. 

"Fine." Dazai whispered back, carefully hugging Chuuya back.

"I love you." Chuuya murmured softly. "A lot." 

Dazai hummed. 

"I think I love you more. At least longer." 

Chuuya had to fight back a giggle, and instead just reached to turn the lamp off.

"Shh. It's not a competition." He retorted, struggling to keep the amusement out of his tone, and mask it with annoyance. 

"Please leave the lamp on." Dazai whispered, so quietly Chuuya almost didn't catch it. 

Chuuya paused, thinking. 

And then, he didn't respond, just returning back to the way he had been, holding Dazai closely. 

"Go to sleep." he whispered, closing his eyes. 

Judging by how quickly Dazai's breathing evened, he already was.

Chapter Text

Chuuya still wasn't used to walking to school alone yet. 

Not that he did. He walked five minutes to a park between Dazai's new house and Chuuya's, sat on a swing and waited for Dazai to show up.

Dazai did have the option to get a lift with Yosano and Ranpo, but had apparently protested and claimed Chuuya would never manage without him. 

Which was a lie, but he appreciated the sentiment.

Dazai, with his badly sprained ankle he had insisted was nothing, and still healing hands, was still not expected to return to classes.

For a reason he wouldn't disclose to anyone, but both Ranpo and Yosano seemed to attribute it to still adjusting to the new environment, he didn't want to be left alone in Fukuzawa's house. 

Fukuzawa had said something similar. That Dazai was likely so used to having strict rules to follow in his house, that living somewhere without them would be jarring.

He didn't quite get it, but he equated it to a major change in routine. Which, ignoring all the other factors, that was what it was. 

The only thing about that which confused Chuuya was that he's pretty sure Dazai wouldn't be alone, because Fukuzawa's husband didn't work anymore. Though, again, strange adult with new rules.

Due to Dazai still being at school, even if not in classes, that meant that every lunch, he wasn't exempt from Dazai's constant pestering.

“Chuuya!” Dazai yelled, running up behind him and yanking him back. 

Chuuya groaned, and scowled, turning to face him. 

“What do you want, bastard?” He asked accusingly, and Dazai grinned, and dragged him away. 

Chuuya waved goodbye to his friends, already knowing it was futile to attempt to avoid this. Besides, he was kind of curious. 

“You need to stop running, it'll make your ankle take longer to heal,” Chuuya said futilely, being completely ignored.

“I finished my art final.” Dazai said instead, and Chuuya realised where they were going, being dragged along to the art department. 

“Oh!” Chuuya exclaimed in surprise. 

“The one you were refusing to let me see?” He asked with slight annoyance. 

“Exactly!” Dazai cheered, pulling Chuuya into the art room, and depositing him next to their table. 

Chuuya could see the canvas on the drying rack, and Dazai kept talking as he carefully pulled it out, facing away from Chuuya. 

"I already had an extension of a few days, but only for when I was timetabled to be here. Thanks to... circumstances—" Dazai said, like the word left a bad taste in his mouth— "I was given an extra out of class extension and I've just been here all day."

Chuuya hummed, glancing just past Dazai to the window outside, the sun on the sports field. 

"Wouldn't holding the brushes and stuff hurt though?" Chuuya asked, shifting his gaze to Dazai again. 

"Yeah, but I have a rather high pain tolerance." Dazai said dismissively, and Chuuya felt a pang of guilt.

The statement prompted him to look at his arms, where he has gotten used to the marks covering them. 

The blue lines had faded from them almost completely, aside from where there were a few newer ones near his elbow. 

Dazai did seem to be doing much better now, since he had moved in with Fukuzawa, though Chuuya still had to make a point of not looking at his thighs when getting dressed. 

Dazai did warn him he wouldn't just stop like that. Given everything, Chuuya was incredibly impressed he had even stopped as much as he had.

And the change in Dazai was visible, he wasn't as hesitant with his movements, he was stronger already, and he didn't look like he hadn't slept for weeks.

"I got bored of reading after a while, then I got bored of movies even quicker." Dazai continued, pulling Chuuya out of his thoughts. 

"Close your eyes!" He demanded, and Chuuya sighed in exasperation, but did as he was told, closing them tightly and listening to Dazai move round.

"Open." Dazai said, the excitement audible in his voice, and Chuuya opened his eyes cautiously, before widening them in shock. 

Dazai's final piece, unsurprisingly, was a painting. 

And Chuuya finally had to answer to an issue that had been plaguing him for weeks before his birthday. Why Dazai had insisted on sitting across from him. Why Dazai had hidden his coursework from him.

Because Dazai's painting was of him, sitting on the other side of the table, working on his own piece.

Chuuya spluttered, his face burning bright red, completely taken off guard. 

"What?" He asked, blinking in surprise, breath stolen. 

Dazai was talented, he knew that, but this was another level. 

"So? What do you think?" Dazai asked, smiling like Chuuya had just handed him the world on a silver platter. 

"You're incredible." Was all Chuuya could think to say. "It's so good. Like. It belongs in an art gallery. It's so pretty." 

Dazai's cheeks were flushed and pink, and he looked incredibly proud of himself. 

"It's pretty because you're in it." He said casually, turning to put it back in the drying rack. 

Chuuya shook his head, and just waited for Dazai to put it back. 

"It's pretty because you made it." He said back, crossing his arms. 

Dazai just turned back to him, walking over again and humming. 

"Uhm, no, it's definitely because you're in it. Stupid Chuuya is always gorgeous when the sun hits his face." 

Chuuya glared at Dazai, his face burning. 

"Can you not accept the compliment! I like your art!" He huffed in exasperation, and Dazai shrugged teasingly. 

"I don't believe you. You never have anything genuinely nice to say to me." He said in mock hurt, and Chuuya scowled. 

"I always have nice things to say, prick! You're just too annoying to deserve them!" 

"Yeah, yeah, maybe Chuuya just hates me huh?" Dazai teased, leaning into him. 

"You hate me, and never want to see me again. You want to destroy our friendship forever." 

Chuuya raised an eyebrow. 

"Friendship, is that what we're calling it now?" He asked dryly. 

"After all that, you're content with friendship huh?" 

Dazai sighed dramatically, moving away again.

"I guess if that's what Chuuya wants, I'll settle for being his friend. Just don't forget me, dearest, and find me in the next life..." 

Chuuya stared at Dazai in disbelief, before grabbing his sleeve and yanking him back, pulling him down by the front of his hoodie.

"Like you'd let me forget you, asshole." He snarked, before pressing his lips against Dazai firmly. 

He pulled away and turned around to hide his bright red face. 

"Your painting is really good. You're an amazing artist." 

There was a surprised silence from behind him, and Chuuya felt a sense of satisfaction at shutting the bastard up, until said bastard spoke in a whiny tone. 

"Why are you so violent with it! I'm injured I deserve to be treated nicely!" 

Chuuya sighed, rolling his eyes. 

"Yeah, you do. Not from me though."

He glanced at Dazai, who was looking at him with a pout, and sighed again, holding out his hand. 

"Let's go get lunch." 

"Okay!" 

—

Kouyou's explanation of what was happening with Mori had only confused Chuuya more. 

Dazai seemed to get it, but Dazai also said he didn't care and didn't want to know. Which, for Dazai, was insane. Dazai, not wanting to know about something? Revolutionary.

Soulmate marks do not hold up as substantial evidence in court, as they can be faked. The basics of what Kouyou said was that Mori didn't know that. Or maybe he did, but they had two victims and a few witnesses. 

They could have gone to the police, and to court, and got Mori put away for child abuse. 

Instead, Ango, Dazai and Elise together had come to the conclusion that the last thing they wanted was to go to court.

So Kouyou and Ango worked together to create an under the table deal, where Mori signed away all legal guardianship of Dazai and Elise to Fukuzawa and Ango respectively, and he'd get to keep his medical licence. 

Because unsurprisingly, a child abuse case can get that taken away. Especially if that case would put you under suspicion of medical malpractice and excessive use of force on a patient.

So legally, everything went smoothly. 

Chuuya hoped that rumours would get out anyway and that even if Mori didn't lose his medical licence, his reputation would be ruined.

Especially as he stood outside Mori's house with a silent Dazai, the careful mask he hadn't seen for over a week back with startling ease.

Chuuya squeezed Dazai's hand, and Dazai smiled at him slightly, just pulling him into the house, and sighing dramatically. 

Chuuya bit back a sigh, knowing where this was going. 

“Jeez, it's been so long since I was here! So long since I was last physically abused!” Dazai proclaimed, feigning excitement. 

“Oh the memories!” 

Chuuya groaned slightly. 

“Dazai…” He said, and Dazai continued, undeterred. 

“Look!” He said, pointing at a wall in the living room. 

“Here's where I got pinned against the wall and cracked my head open!” 

“And through here-” He called, letting go of Chuuya's hand and going to the kitchen. 

“-is where my daring escape began!” 

“Then he burnt my sketchbook, and I caught fire, and then he tried to get me to cut myself-”

“He fucking what?” Chuuya snapped, cutting Dazai off. 

Dazai paused, catching his lip between his teeth and shrugging. 

“I didn't.” 

Chuuya scowled. 

“That isn't the point.” 

Dazai opened his mouth to respond, before Ango cut in from behind them. 

"Come on guys, we're just here to get Dazai's things. You two go work on Dazai's room while I get Elise's stuff." He said, and Chuuya just glanced at Dazai, then followed as Dazai went upstairs. 

Last time he had been here, he was just standing in the living room. He hasn't been in Dazai's room in forever. 

And for some reason he wasn't surprised at the state he found Dazai's room in, looking like a tornado had torn through it. 

"What is it we're getting?" Chuuya asked, gingerly picking his way through the mess. 

"Any art supplies you can find, mostly. My camera, I left that here. Just. Anything still intact." Dazai said, voice detached.

Chuuya swallowed thickly. 

If it was art supplies Dazai wanted... Most of the pencils he could see were snapped in half. He had an idea what happened, but he really didn't want to know. He was just confused as to why. 

But he had a feeling Dazai didn't know why either. 

Ango left some boxes just inside the doorway, and Chuuya took a deep breath, grabbing one and clearing a space on the floor for it. 

"Put some music on." He said, pulling his hair out of his face. 

"This is a little too depressing." 

Dazai smiled at him a little, and pulled out his phone.

"Taylor swift?" He asked, and Chuuya looked up from where he was assessing a pile of clothes on the floor. 

"Go ahead, just make sure it's something happier. 1989, maybe." 

Dazai grinned, and he just pressed play on his phone, the album already open. 

"I guessed you'd say that." 

Chuuya huffed, his cheeks warming, and he glared at him. 

"Just let some air in then come help me jackass." 

---

With two boxes filled with salvaged items belonging to Dazai, they had moved to filling his backpack with more precious things, his camera, and a few more things carefully stuffed between socks and t-shirts. 

Chuuya kneeled next to Dazai, holding the bag open as he went through the drawers of his bedside table. 

"Is that makeup?" Chuuya asked in disbelief as Dazai dropped a few more things into the bag. 

"Yep," Dazai answered, pointedly not looking at Chuuya. 

"Yosano's idea, not mine." 

Chuuya hummed, not questioning it any further. 

"You any good?" He asked as Dazai packed up the spilled contents of a pencil case. 

Dazai frowned. 

"It's not like I got much practice. I don't know." Dazai muttered. 

Chuuya felt a little bad, another reminder at the freedom he had always had, that Dazai didn't. If he had taken an interest in something like that, he would have been encouraged.

"I suppose, it's just like painting isn't it?" Chuuya asked, to which Dazai shrugged.

"I think you'd be able to practice as much as you like now. And, I guess, you could probably bribe someone into being a model." 

Dazai laughed a little, smiling and about to respond, before he faltered, pulling the drawer out, and they both quickly fell quiet. 

There were a few more pens, more expensive fine liners, and a few lighters. And of course, a collection of broken sharpeners, a few of the blades still there, just separated. 

Dazai hesitated, and Chuuya didn't know what to say or do as Dazai just stared them down.

After a moment Dazai picked the pens and lighters out the mess, tossing them in the bag, and Chuuya raised an eyebrow at the lighters, but didn't say anything, more focused on the blades. 

He wasn't sure if he should move away, what does he do? 

He was about to call Ango through, unsure whether Dazai would try and keep them, but then Dazai took a sharp breath in, and in one swift movement brushed the broken plastic and metal into his hand, getting up and dumping it in the bin. 

Chuuya looked up at him, noticing the slight shaking in his hands, and the stutter to his breathing, the slight tremble in his bottom lip. 

Then Dazai sat beside him again, his hands in fists, and Chuuya moved the bag to the side, just hugging him tightly. 

"What's this for?" Dazai asked, voice slightly shaky. 

"Just shut up." Chuuya muttered, turning his face to Dazai's neck, where he could still faintly smell antiseptic, but also the vanilla scented oil Dazai had told him Fukuzawa had put on his bandages to overpower the smell when he had said it made him uneasy. And of course, most importantly, the strawberry shampoo Dazai still doused himself in.

Dazai relaxed into the hug a little, and sighed a little. 

"I'm not going to need them. I don't need them where I'm going. I don't." He whispered, like he was convincing himself more than Chuuya. 

"You don't." Chuuya whispered in agreement, and Dazai shuddered. 

"Maybe I should have kept an extra one, just in case-" 

"No, come on Dazai. You don't need it where we're going." He whispered, voice almost pleading. 

Besides, he wasn't stupid. He knew Dazai already had an extra one. But he didn't need so many. Not anymore, not ever again. 

Even just throwing out those ones was such a massive thing, in Dazai's eyes, he's sure. So Chuuya would let it be like this for now.

"...We don't need it." Dazai said, louder, pulling away and clearing his throat, like changing 'I' to 'we' made it slightly more bearable.

That's fine.

The pink scar on the inside of Chuuya's left arm was enough to more than convince Chuuya that 'we' was easier than 'I'. 

So he agreed, nodding and sitting up straight again. 

"We don't." 

Then Dazai started putting the drawers back in the table, and Chuuya stood up, staring at the stars on Dazai's wall. 

After a moment, Dazai stood next to him, then climbed onto his stripped bed, and began taking them down. 

"These are definitely coming though." He said, and Chuuya smiled, holding the bag open for Dazai to drop them in. 

"Of course they are." 

--- 

Dazai's new room was across the hall from Ranpo's, and next to Yosano's.

This was Chuuya's first time in their house, but he was happy with that, sticking the stars back up with Dazai. 

After a whole afternoon of work, Dazai's bedroom was... Dazai's. 

And Chuuya turned away from sticking up the last star (Dazai had said since he had been the one to put all the ones in Chuuya's room up, Chuuya could do the honours in his new room), to see Dazai looking around like he was in a degree of awe. 

Chuuya huffed, sitting down on Dazai's bed, and Dazai turned to look at him. 

"It's weird." Dazai said without context. 

"What is?" Chuuya asked, crossing his arms and tilting his head. 

"I'm alive." Dazai said, and Chuuya expected to find a hint of a joke in his tone, but Dazai seemed genuinely serious, before he suddenly just dropped to the floor. 

"Dazai!" Chuuya yelped, jumping forward to make sure Dazai was okay only to see him stretched out on the floor, rocking from side to side. 

"I can lie on the floor!!! There's space!!!" He cheered, and Chuuya scowled. 

"Fucking asshole, you scared me." He muttered, unheard by Dazai, who seemed happy to just roll about on the floor. 

He watched with amusement for a second, until Dazai accidentally kicked a chair and squeaked in pain, and he sighed in irritation. 

"Can you stop that? There's not that much space." He pointed out, and Dazai just rolled onto his stomach before pushing himself up.

"But there is! It's clean, Chuuya! Clean!!!" Dazai said, getting up and joining Chuuya on the bed. 

"There's so much I can do now, it's crazy. Fukuchi has even been asking me what food I like, when he cooks he doesn't make me eat it if I don't like it, he'll help me make something different I do like." 

Chuuya hummed and nodded along as Dazai spoke. 

"The other night, I felt really sick, and Fukuzawa sat and watched a movie with me until I felt better. I thought only your parents were like that." 

Dazai sighed, and flopped across Chuuya's legs, resting his head on his thigh. 

"He wouldn't let me take the medicine on my own though. I think the lock on the medicine cabinet is a new addition." 

Chuuya raised an eyebrow, moving a hand to brush through Dazai's hair, moving it away from his face.

“Seems like a reasonable precaution to me." He commented, and Dazai pouted. 

"I'm like barely suicidal anymore, I have fun now, I just go to Ranpo's room and play chess with him if I'm like that. Or I paint. Or do one of the many things I get to do whenever I want now." He said, listing them off. 

Chuuya sighed, relenting and just looking down at Dazai, hiding his fondness with exasperation. 

"Of course. If you're 'barely' suicidal, there's no concern." He said sarcastically. 

Dazai huffed and crossed his arms, looking away. 

Chuuya took one of Dazai's hands in his own, comparing the healing burns with the fading blue on his own hands.

"Hey." He whispered, and Dazai shifted, looking back at him and sitting up again. 

"Hey?" Dazai murmured back, nudging him with a small smile. 

"Are you happier now? Like properly. You know, content. Obviously, there's still shit and that but, it's better, right?" Chuuya asked, and Dazai paused, looking at him thoughtfully. 

Chuuya was concerned the answer might not be what he was looking for, a proclamation of how actually in Dazai's mind, nothing was better at all, until Dazai leaned in and kissed him gently, genuinely smiling. 

"It is. I'm a lot better now. I'm quite happy, if I'm allowed to be that." He said, moving away to look at Chuuya curiously. 

"Are you?" 

Chuuya was caught off guard for a second, but he scoffed, and intertwined his fingers with Dazai's. 

"Yeah." He said, and Dazai smiled widely, squeezing his hand.

"I'm very happy."