Dazai is a disaster. He walks Chuuya back to his dorm just fine. He acts civil and kind towards Shirase when he opens the door, smiles as wide as he can.
He's exhausted. The party had taken a lot out of him. Emiko… He feels bad for her. He'd been clear with her from the moment they'd met that he wasn't in it for the romance. Turns out he can't be in it for the sex anymore, either. Shit, he can't even kiss her, and he doesn't think it has anything to do with being in love with Chuuya.
Being in love. Fuck. It's been, what, two weeks? Two weeks and he's already head over heels. To be fair, he'd known from the moment he'd seen Chuuya that he'd be bad for him. Chuuya is bad for his heart, too sweet, like sugary sweet cotton candy at a carnival. And Dazai is bad for Chuuya, too, he knows it. He's not sweet like Chuuya is. He's a cavity ready to rot every relationship he's ever had. He leeches away at everyone he knows, until they've had enough.
He doesn't want it to be that way with Chuuya. Dazai wants, so, so desperately, to be good for him, to him, to treat him well and keep him by his side forever. Because Dazai is selfish, greedy, and possessive. He can't stand the thought of Chuuya with anyone else. He can't stand the thought that he's so self-absorbed.
Chuuya is his own person. He isn't Dazai's. He never will be. It hurts to admit it, but it's the truth. It had hurt to push Chuuya away when he'd gotten so close, their faces inches away from each other. But Chuuya was drunk, and he definitely didn't mean to do it. He'd regret it, if Dazai had let it happen.
Still, because Dazai is gross and creepy and perverted and inhuman, he imagines what it would have been like. What it would have been like to kiss Chuuya at the party. He hates himself for it.
When he'd gotten home, he'd gone straight to the shower, standing under the scalding spray of water and itching just to feel something. His hand had reached for a blade that isn't there anymore, coming up empty. So he scratches, instead. Claws at his arms and chest and yanks at his hair, but nothing can take his mind off of Chuuya. He's sick. He must be.
He must have some kind of disease, something eating away at his insides, some sort of black hole sucking away at his heart and lungs and stomach. He sinks to the tiled floor of the shower with his head in his hands, his skin scrubbed raw, and closes his eyes.
He really hadn't meant to poke Chuuya in the eye. He'd played it off that way, because he didn't want Chuuya to know. Really he had just wanted to tuck a strand of hair behind Chuuya's ear. But he'd miscalculated. Dazai presses a hand into his right eye, still closed. The stupid goddamn thing messes everything up. He'd almost slipped up, too, after all his hard work. Almost let Chuuya know that his vision isn't all that perfect. In fact, it's horrendous.
It's never really been an issue before. No one knows except for Fyodor, and Ranpo, probably, but that's because they're geniuses that even Dazai's sharp mind and fake smiles can't fool. It makes him clumsy. He hadn't lied when he'd told Chuuya that he bumps into things all of the time. But now that he's started lying, he doesn't know how to stop.
It's all he's good at. Lying, manipulating, playing mental chess, and everyone is a pawn in his mind games. He's fake, faker than a silver filling in a rotted tooth, a clone of someone he never really got to know. How can he even begin to change, to recover? How can he begin to become someone else, someone he can be proud of?
He'll fit whatever mold he makes of himself, but it'll never be genuine. He can't feel anything, except for Chuuya. For Chuuya, he feels… He just feels. There's not much more to it. There's the awful, sickening, grotesque fact that this will all end horribly, that everyone will leave him, that Dazai will end up alone. Alone again. Alone, with no one but himself and his intrusive thoughts to keep him company.
The water starts to turn cold, so he gets to his feet, ignoring the slight dizzy sensation he gets from standing too fast in a room full of steam. He turns the shower handle until the water comes to a stop, and stands there silently. Dazai is quiet, but his head is so loud.
If there ever was a god, Dazai thinks, he must have hated me.
Why else would something so powerful make Dazai this way? Falling apart, ripping at the seams, barely pulling himself together to make it through one goddamn day.
His parents dying hadn't been so bad. They were never around anyway, always busy, always working. Dazai had never gotten the chance to know either of them. There were no bedtime stories, no lullabies, and that was fine. That was okay. Dazai had servants to keep him company. He'd never realized how much he took all that for granted until the day he was taken and put into foster care.
Not all of it was bad. There were some loving families, people who cared for him, but who wants someone who doesn't want to exist? Dazai can admit he'd messed up far too many times for anyone to want to keep him around. It's all he does, all he can ever do. Hurt, and break, and destroy. Rip relationships apart before they can even be made, burn bridges down before they can be built.
Maybe it's to protect himself. Dazai doesn't believe that. He knows, deep down, that it's because he's bad, evil, something horrific, some kind of animal in a human skin, some sort of impostor. He's fucked in the head. He can't possibly begin to understand what it is to be a real person, to be human. He doesn't know how or where to start.
When he looks into the mirror, something wretched stares back. Something too pale, with bruises under its sunken, dead eyes, lips chewed til they're torn and bleeding. It's not him. It can't be. It has to be some kind of monster.
Dazai struggles to bandage himself up, but he has to. Has to hide the marks he's made, the scars he has. He covers his eye, too. He used to do it more, even though it had never been injured in the first place.
Psychosomatic.
Hysterical blindness is the outdated term. Why it only affected one eye, Dazai doesn't know. He only knows what they've told him: it comes from trauma. It makes Dazai curl his lip. He doesn't need to cover it, but he does it anyway. He doesn't want to look at it, doesn't want to be reminded of what he's lost. His vision, his parents, his virtue, his humanity.
He finishes getting dressed and steps out of the bathroom, towards his bed. Towards Fyodor, waiting for some kind of explanation for wasted water. It's all Dazai does. Waste. Waste the things he's given, waste away. Fyodor gives him one glance and raises an eyebrow.
"I thought you didn't want me to know." He says. Dazai shrugs.
"You already knew regardless."
Fyodor watches him carefully.
"Why the bandage?" He asks. "Does it hurt? It never seems like it."
Dazai clambers onto his bed and closes his eyes.
"It doesn't hurt." He mumbles. "I don't want to talk about it."
Is it a horrible, horrible thought to wish he'd been blinded in both eyes? Probably. Still being able to see is a gift that Dazai was lucky to receive. But if it had happened, Dazai wouldn't have to look at himself anymore. He wouldn't have to look in the mirror and hate what he sees.
"Goodnight, Dazai." Fyodor says, and turns out the light. Dazai can't find it in himself to respond.
Sleep doesn't take him for a long while. When it does, it's anything but peaceful.
The next time Dazai sees Chuuya, they aren't studying. Chuuya shows up at his dorm. Dazai opens the door sluggishly, and his eyes go wide when he sees Chuuya there, with his arms crossed.
"What are you doing here?" Dazai asks, a bit breathless. Chuuya looks amazing. He's a breath of fresh air after days of stuffy clouds and gloom. Chuuya glares at him.
"You weren't answering your phone." He says. "I was starting to get worried you were gonna bail on me before the semester ended."
Dazai exhales shakily and prepares to mask up.
"Chuuya is worried about me!" He chimes, grinning. "You didn't have to come all this way! I'm doing well!"
Chuuya's eyes narrow at him. Dazai's heart beats rapidly in his chest. He doesn't want Chuuya to know. He doesn't want Chuuya to see that he's weak.
"Have you been attending your classes?" Chuuya asks, slowly. Ah. That, Dazai can answer. He nods, a cheery smile plastered on his face. He doesn't have to lie about it. He has been going. Half the reason he hasn't checked his phone is because he's so drained after class that he just lays in bed, hoping for sleep that won't come.
"Of course!" Dazai says. He can feel his mask start to crack, so he forces it back together with glue and paper mache. "I said I wanted to pass, right?"
A look of frustration crosses Chuuya's face.
"Maybe I wouldn't have to ask if you stopped ignoring me."
Dazai barely catches his smile from faltering.
"Ah, Chuuya," He coos. "I'm a busy guy, you know? I've got things to do."
"Yeah, well…" Chuuya grumbles, still looking upset. "Get your books. We're studying today."
Dazai blinks at him, taken aback.
"Right now?" He asks. His brain is sluggish, struggling to catch up.
"Yes, right now." Chuuya snaps, and Dazai tries not to flinch.
"Okay." He says. "Let me get changed, though, alright? I don't want to go out looking like this."
This means sweatpants and a Sanrio hoodie. Chuuya looks him up and down and sighs.
"We can just do it here, if you're not up for going anywhere." Dazai hesitates. He has to act normal, cheerful. He has to act like he's put together, style himself to appear how he's expected to. "Really, Dazai, it's fine."
Chuuya's voice has softened just a bit. A flare of irritation burns in Dazai's stomach before he's able to stomp it out. He doesn't want Chuuya's pity. He knows that's the only reason Chuuya is ever friendly with him, in the first place. Pity. It's okay, though. If that's what keeps him around… then it's alright. Dazai sighs and opens the door wider to let Chuuya in.
"It's a little bit messy," He warns. "Just so you know."
Chuuya steps inside and surveys the scene, turning to face Dazai with a raised eyebrow.
"You call this messy?" He asks. "Shirase's side of our dorm is a literal pigsty."
Okay, so maybe Dazai had exaggerated. There's a hoodie on the ground, and the shirt he'd worn to the party a few days ago is hanging off the back of a chair. His desk is covered in notebooks and sticky notes, but there's no trash or junk food around, so maybe that's what Chuuya is talking about.
"Do I even want to know what it looks like?" Dazai teases, forcing a smile and walking towards his desk. He closes his notebook calmly, but his pulse is racing. He purposely slows it, unwilling to give himself away, and covers the notebook with a stack of textbooks.
"Were you actually studying all this time?" Chuuya asks. When Dazai turns around, he's frowning thoughtfully. Dazai shrugs.
"Why not?" He rubs at the back of his neck sheepishly. "It can't hurt, right? I have a test soon."
He hadn't actually been studying. He'd been up nightly writing entry after entry into that goddamn notebook. Most, if not all, about the anguish he feels over loving Chuuya, when he's not even human. But he lets Chuuya believe what he wants to, because he looks impressed.
"We could have studied together, though." Chuuya says, his brow furrowing. "If you had read your texts, you would have seen that I offered."
"My phone has been dead for three days." Dazai admits, feeling a bit guilty. He can't even say he didn't mean to ignore Chuuya, because he did. It was all too much, too fast. Plus, he wasn't sure he'd be able to keep up his act around him while he'd been stuck so deep in his head. But his phone being dead isn't a lie. "I haven't gotten around to charging it. Sorry."
Chuuya huffs, his frown deepening. Dazai forces his face to brighten, letting a sly grin creep onto his lips.
"Chuuya…" He sing-songs. "You didn't miss me, did you?"
When Chuuya sputters, his face turning bright red, Dazai feels the effort of acting lessen just a bit. It's hard to be sad around Chuuya.
"Don't say stupid things like that." Chuuya scoffs, punching Dazai in the shoulder. "Of course I didn't miss you, you absolute loser. I'm just concerned about how you studied. You don't really know how to apply yourself properly."
Dazai frowns, but it's all fake, all light-hearted.
"Chuuya is mean." He says, and Chuuya scoffs again. "I think I've got it figured out, though. I wrote down everything you told me on sticky notes so I could reread them when I forgot."
He had written them down, but only because he missed Chuuya, and it made Dazai feel closer to him while he'd been shutting himself away. Chuuya leans over his desk to read the notes, and raises his eyebrows, seeming impressed.
"You remembered my explanations word for word?" He asks, bewildered. Shit. Dazai hadn't thought about that. He has a good memory. Excellent, even. But he's not supposed to, not if he's going to fool Chuuya into sticking around. He has to think of an excuse, and fast, too.
"How could I forget anything you say with that pipsqueak voice of yours?" Dazai laughs, and Chuuya bristles.
"Say that again, I dare you." He hisses. Dazai leans forward into his personal space, grinning, and pats Chuuya's head.
"Pipsqueak." He says. Chuuya kicks him in the fucking gut. Dazai hadn't known he was so flexible. He hunches in on himself, out of breath, and starts to laugh hysterically.
"What is wrong with you?" Chuuya asks, as Dazai heaves for air.
"You're just so fun to tease." Dazai replies, wiping a tear from the corner of his good eye. "I can't help it."
He finally calms down and yanks the shirt he'd worn to the party off of the chair, throwing it onto his bed. Then he pulls the chair over to his desk, beside the usual one.
"Have a seat," He says, gesturing to the extra chair. Chuuya glares at him, but listens. "Wow! Chuuya really does follow orders like a dog!"
"You–!!" Chuuya starts, before cutting himself off and taking a deep breath. "Just sit down so we can get to work already."
Dazai, like the good person he is, acquiesces. He sits down on his desk chair and wheels it closer to Chuuya. He's so near, so close. Dazai's hand itches to reach out and touch him. He holds back, because that's creepy and weird and wrong. And he'd like– Dazai would like to be a person. A good one. So he doesn't touch Chuuya, doesn't reach out and hold his hand, even if he wants to.
Instead, he reaches for his textbook and opens it, flipping to the necessary page. His breath comes out shaky when Chuuya's hand brushes his. He hides it with a light cough, smiling apologetically.
He's no good. He's horrible, a waste of space. The thoughts fill up his brain like a thundercloud, making him hazy and unfocused while he works. Chuuya must notice, because he sighs frustratedly, slamming his pencil down on the desk. Dazai can't even try to hide his flinch.
"That's it." Chuuya declares, a bit snappish. "We're going out. Get dressed, or whatever. Clearly you need some fresh air, or something."
Dazai hesitates.
"I'm sorry," He offers, a bit half-heartedly. "I promise I'm trying."
Chuuya looks at him, his eyes searching Dazai's face for something, anything, any trace of a lie. Dazai knows he won't find one. Because he's not lying. He's being honest, in a way. He's really trying his best to act the part.
"I'm not mad at you." Chuuya tells him. Dazai is almost surprised by the overwhelming force of the relief that hits him at those words. "I just think you need to think about something else for a while."
Dazai blinks, surprised.
"Oh." He says. "You're sure?"
Chuuya nods.
"So go on and get dressed. I'll wait out here."
"Okay." Dazai is completely and utterly blown away. Dumbfounded, if you will. He shuffles towards his closet and pulls out a few things he thinks will work well together before heading towards the bathroom to change.
He ends up putting on a black graphic tee over a white button up, and black pants that cinch around his waist easily with the help of a belt. The belt is black, too. He walks out of the room in his socks, and heads to the door to get his boots. As he's pulling them on, he feels Chuuya's eyes on him, and when he looks up, Chuuya is staring. Dazai frowns.
"What?" He asks. Chuuya shakes his head.
"I forgot to bring your coat, sorry." Chuuya says. Oh. Dazai tilts his head.
"Don't worry about it." He finishes lacing up his boots and stands. "You can give it back another time. It kept you warm, right?"
He must be imagining the way Chuuya's cheeks turn slightly pink.
"Yeah." Chuuya says, tugging at his own shirt. "Thanks."
Dazai's lips part in shock. He hadn't been expecting that. He snaps himself out of it quickly, rubbing at the back of his neck.
"It's whatever." He mumbles. "Let's go, if you're ready."
Chuuya nods, and they head out together. They've only taken a few steps when Dazai feels himself reaching out to grab Chuuya's hand. He stops halfway, cursing himself and shoving his hands in his pockets to avoid any future mishaps.
"Where are we headed?" He chirps, instead, forcing his voice to sound bright and carefree. If Chuuya notices it's fake, he doesn't say anything. For that, Dazai is grateful.
"There's an arcade just off campus." Chuuya tells him. "I was thinking we could stop by there and play around."
Dazai's grin widens.
"Chuuya," He drawls. "Is this a date?"
Chuuya punches him in the arm, and Dazai laughs. It isn't quite genuine, but it's getting there. That scares him, a little bit. No one has ever knocked his walls down like Chuuya has.
"Don't be stupid," Chuuya sputters. "As if I'd ever go on a date with you."
Right.
"Because you hate me, right?" Dazai asks, trying not to sound as subdued as he feels. It comes out sounding curious, teasing. Good. Dazai's a good actor.
"Yeah, dipshit." Chuuya says, elbowing him. "If you want me to not hate you, you have to win me something from one of those scam claw machines."
Dazai smiles slyly. He can do that.
"Are you betting that I can't?" He asks. "What's in it for me if I win?"
Chuuya glances at him. He looks frustrated.
"I just told you, didn't I?" Chuuya huffs. "I won't hate you, or whatever."
Dazai rolls his eyes, still grinning.
"As if you could manage that." He says. "How about… If I win you something, you have to give me a kiss on the cheek."
Chuuya stops walking and tackles him, not to the ground, but just shakes him harshly. Dazai laughs through it. It's easier like this. He'd been worried that he might be too drained to keep up the act, but Chuuya makes it so easy. Maybe it's because Dazai doesn't have to fake most of his reactions around him.
"Why would you even want that?" Chuuya scoffs, looking disgusted.
"It's what people do on dates, right?" Dazai asks, grinning. "Come on, Chuuya. It probably won't even happen, right? Since claw machines are all scams?"
Chuuya hesitates for a moment, narrowing his eyes.
"For the last time, this isn't a date." He hisses. "And fine. Only because there's no way you'll actually win."
They start walking again, Dazai significantly slowing his pace to match Chuuya's.
"Your legs are so short." Dazai teases. "Make sure you can keep up!"
He breaks into a jog, hands still stuffed into his pockets. He probably looks ridiculous, wrapped in bandages up to his neck, and he's not exactly in the best of shape, so Chuuya catches up to him quickly.
"Fuck you." Chuuya growls. "What was that about not keeping up?"
Dazai shivers a bit at the tone of his voice and covers it up with a breathless laugh.
"Okay, fine." He gasps. "I concede. What do you want as your prize?"
"I want you to shut up, forever." Chuuya tells him, and Dazai grins.
"No can do," He says. "I love to hear myself talk."
Chuuya scoffs.
"That's not surprising at all."
Dazai tilts his head, suddenly curious.
"Hey, Chuuya," He says, and Chuuya hums in response. "Do you work out, or something?"
"Yeah," Chuuya answers. "I'm a black belt in taekwondo. What about it?"
Dazai's mouth is suddenly as dry as a desert.
"Is that why you're so good at punching?" He forces himself to ask.
"Probably." Chuuya says, and then stops walking. Dazai stops, too. "Here. Let's go in."
The arcade is kind of dingy, a bit beat up, but Dazai follows Chuuya inside with no complaints. Chuuya instantly drags him towards a claw machine, and Dazai chuckles quietly.
"Do you like Cinnamoroll very much?" He teases. Chuuya glares at him.
"Shut up," He says, and then, after a short pause, "It's cute. And it's not like you'll be able to get one, anyways."
Dazai grins, cracking his knuckles. If only Chuuya knew. Dazai is smart. He also knows how to extort loopholes and cheat at arcade games. There's really nothing to it.
"I assume you have some yen ready for me?" He asks, and Chuuya grumbles, sticking his hands in his pockets and pulling out a handful of coins.
"Perfect," Dazai says, holding one up to the light. "Hey, Chuuya. Can I get a good luck kiss?"
Chuuya punches him in the shoulder, and he laughs. God. He's so pathetically in love. It's almost embarrassing.
"Shut up and get started already!" Chuuya hisses. "You're just stalling at this point."
Dazai winks, sticking his tongue between his teeth. He slides the coins into the slot of the machine and lets his hands rest on top of the toggles. It doesn't take long, because Dazai is good at these kinds of things. A couple minutes and two tries later, a Cinnamoroll plushie is captured in the claws of the machine, and drops down into the right space.
When Dazai turns, Chuuya is staring at him with wide eyes and an open mouth. His lips look incredibly kissable. Dazai swallows roughly, trying to keep himself together, trying not to do anything stupid and ruin the one good thing he's ever had.
"I win!" He exclaims, plastering a smile on his face. He holds the plushie up for Chuuya to see.
"How did you do that?" Chuuya asks him, sounding bewildered. "I've never won at this game."
Dazai shrugs.
"I guess I'm just better than you," He teases, and Chuuya kicks him in the shin. "Come on, Chuuya, pay up, huh? Give me a kiss."
"I hate you so much." Chuuya grumbles under his breath. He snatches the plushie and stands still, clearly hesitating. Then he grabs Dazai's face in one hand, roughly, and turns it to the side. The touch makes Dazai's head spin, and then Chuuya is leaning up on his tiptoes, and pressing a chaste kiss to his cheek.
He releases Dazai's face and steps back, wiping his lips with his sleeve. Dazai is so fucking far gone. His hand comes up to touch the spot where Chuuya had kissed him, awed. His skin is buzzing.. That's what it feels like to be kissed by someone like Chuuya.
"I can't believe you made me do that," Chuuya groans, scrubbing at his lips. "This is what I get for thinking you're fucking normal."
Dazai shrugs, finally able to grin again, as if his head isn't still turning in circles, like he's just gotten off of a carousel.
"I've never pretended to be normal," He says. "You're the one who held me to that standard. Don't be so surprised, I fail to meet everyone's expectations."
Chuuya glares at him, and Dazai realizes that he's still touching his cheek like a lovesick fool. He drops his hand to his side.
"Chuuya?" A feminine voice calls, and Dazai curses his bad luck. He turns around to see Yuan and Shirase walking towards them. Yuan is frowning. She flounces up to Chuuya and clings onto his arm. "What are you doing here?"
Chuuya looks a bit uncomfortable, but Dazai isn't about to say anything. He just smiles, even though he feels like his day has been ruined. He really doesn't have the energy to pretend around multiple people right now. Dazai shoves his hands in his pockets and gives Yuan an award-winning smile.
"We're on a date!" He exclaims, and Chuuya jostles Yuan a bit when he punches Dazai with his free arm.
"We are not on a date." Chuuya clarifies, and Dazai pouts.
"Dude," Shirase says, staring at Chuuya with wide eyes. "You just kissed him. Are you sure?"
Chuuya bristles, and Dazai grins.
"Of course I'm sure!" Chuuya shouts. "The slimy bastard made me do it!"
"Chuuyaaa," Dazai whines. "Come on. You lost our bet fair and square. I got you the plushie you wanted."
He can feel Yuan glaring at him and gives her an impassive stare. Dazai had thought maybe she would have moved past her hatred of him by now, given that she'd apologized already. Guess not. He really is despicable, huh?
"I swear you cheated." Chuuya says. "I only made that bet because I was sure you couldn't win! How did you even do it, you bastard?"
Dazai grins, wiggling his fingers elusively at him.
"I have my ways." He teases. Yuan's glare sharpens, and Dazai can barely hold back a sigh.
"Hey, Dazai," Yuan starts, her voice sly. She probably thinks she's cunning. "You're actually pretty smart, aren't you?"
Dazai blinks, playing dumb.
"Of course I am." He says, and she looks shocked for just a second before she schools her face into something nonchalant. "Chuuya! Have you been telling your friends that I'm dumb?"
Chuuya tsks at him.
"Of course not." He scoffs. "You're not dumb, you just don't know how to apply yourself."
Dazai hums.
"Hey Yuan, if it makes you feel better, I'm street-smart, not book-smart." That's a half-truth. He is book-smart, but he has to pretend, for his sake, that he's not. He maintains a steady heartbeat the whole time that he's lying. Yuan scoffs at him.
"What would you know about the streets?" She asks. She sounds pissed. Dazai frowns. It seems like he just can't stop fucking up. He wants Chuuya to like him. He wants Chuuya's friends to like him, too. It's just hard. He doesn't know how to act around people.
"He knows how to pick locks." Chuuya says, absent-mindedly. Dazai's heart skips a beat, screwing up the rhythm he'd built. Even without meaning to, Chuuya really is his knight in shining armor.
"Chuuya," Dazai whines, rocking back and forth on his feet. "That was supposed to be our secret."
"So he's a criminal," Yuan says. "That doesn't mean he knows anything about the streets."
Dazai closes his eyes and takes a deep breath.
"Yeah, you're probably right." He forces himself to sound casual and calm, despite how badly he wants to sink into the floor of the arcade. "I was homeless for four years, but even then I went to school like normal, so what could I know, right?"
Chuuya blinks at him.
"You were homeless?" Shirase asks, frowning. "I thought you were rich. And you still went to school? How did you manage?"
Dazai grins cheekily at him.
"I lived in a shipping container." He says. Shirase looks like he's going to be sick. "I'd sneak into school early to shower in the locker room. I told you, right? My parents' money wasn't mine until I turned eighteen."
"How did you afford to eat?" Shirase asks. It sounds nearly strangled. "And what were you even doing alone like that?"
Dazai frowns briefly.
"I ran away from my foster home." He says. "And… I had some help."
His throat closes up around those words. He wishes he hadn't said anything. He really, really doesn't want to think about that period in his life. Yuan scoffs again.
"You had help, and you still pretend you were homeless?" She asks. "How does that even make sense?"
Chuuya glares at her, trying to squirm out of her grip. She doesn't let go. Dazai watches on, curious. He can feel himself shutting down.
"Who helped you?" Shirase asks curiously. Dazai clenches his hands into fists.
"You might know him, actually." He says, his voice breathy. "He's actually a professor at our school. Mori Ougai."
That name in his mouth makes him feel sick.
"So you got into this school because of him?" Yuan asks. "What a freeloader."
Dazai tilts his head and stares at her with burning eyes.
"Having another bad day, Yuan?" He questions, and Yuan flinches. "That's okay, you can take it out on me. I won't be able to feel it anyways, right? Since I'm not human. Go on and say whatever you want, if it makes you feel better."
"You're a freak." Yuan says, stumbling over her words.
"Yuan, that's enough." Chuuya commands, finally tugging himself out of her hold on his arm. Yuan flinches again.
"It's okay, Chuuya, really." Dazai says. He feels a smile creep across his face. Shirase is shifting uncomfortably, and Yuan looks unsettled. Good. "I want to hear what she has to say. She'll apologize after, right? Even if she doesn't mean it."
"So, what, he found you at your lowest, or something?" Yuan asks. "You expect me to believe that?"
"He found me on a bridge, if you really wanted to know." Dazai stares at her, eyes boring holes into her soul. "So I was actually pretty high up."
"Is everything a joke to you?" Yuan spits. "Do you really think you're that funny?"
Dazai grins.
"I think I'm hilarious." He says. "So what's your story, Yuan? Why do you hate me so much?" Yuan goes silent and doesn't answer.
"You don't want to say? That's okay. Let me guess. You grew up poor. Your parents couldn't even afford to pay the electric bill, right? So you didn't have very many friends, because who wants to hang around a kid who doesn't keep up with all the latest technology and fashion? No one. You barely got through high school with passing grades." Yuan looks furious, near tears. "Somehow, you managed to follow Chuuya and Shirase here, which you're happy about, because they're the only two friends you've ever had. They don't judge you for not having the best upbringing. Good for you! You finally made it to your dream school, aren't you happy? But something changed, right?"
"Shut up." Yuan snaps, but Dazai continues.
"You got so used to Chuuya only focusing on you and Shirase that when someone new came along, you couldn't stand it." Dazai rocks back on his heels, still staring directly into Yuan's eyes. "Even if the attention I was getting was Chuuya's hatred, you couldn't stand that he was thinking about someone else. He probably talked about me a lot at first, huh? Yuan! Can you believe this guy? I punched him in the nose and he laughed! He called me short! What an asshole!"
"You're wrong." Yuan grits out, but Dazai knows better. His grin widens.
"I bet you hated when you saw us holding hands." He says, slyly. "That look you gave me really gave you away, you know? So when you got the chance to drive me away, you took it, right? Gave me a verbal beatdown in a bar in front of everyone. But you weren't expecting Chuuya to slap you, were you? I can't begin to imagine how that must have felt. What a betrayal. You were only trying to protect him from me, right, Yuan?"
She slaps him then, hard. Dazai's head snaps to the side from the force of it, but he's still grinning.
"That's as good as a yes, then, isn't it?" He asks. "Good to know. I won't take it to heart then, that you think I'm a freak, since you only have Chuuya's best interest in mind. What do you think, Chuuya?"
Yuan freezes, her eyes welling up with tears, and then she turns around, running out of the arcade. Shirase follows her helplessly, calling her name. Chuuya stares at him with wide eyes and parted lips. Dazai lets his smile drop.
"Well?" He asks, his voice carefully blank. "What do you think, Chuuya? Did I get it all right?"
"Yeah, you did." Chuuya says, sounding stunned. "How did you do that?"
Dazai shrugs. He puts on a calm persona, but his thoughts are racing a mile a minute. I fucked up, I said too much, I'm not acting well enough, he hates me, I want to go home, I want to die, I want to–
"I told you, right?" He forces himself to sound casual. "I'm good at reading people."
"You didn't have to go that far, though." Chuuya says, and Dazai can barely hold back his flinch. "I'm sorry."
What?
"What?" Dazai asks, bewildered. "What do you mean?"
Chuuya shakes his head.
"This was…" He starts. "I was trying to make today good for you."
Dazai can only blink at him, dumbfounded.
"Why?" He asks. "Why would you want to do that?"
"Because I can tell, okay?" Chuuya says, sounding uncomfortable. "You're not okay. And I can tell. I was trying to… I don't know. Make you feel better, or something."
Dazai stares at him for a moment longer before he starts laughing. It starts out as a chuckle and escalates to hysterical cackling.
"Make–" He wheezes. "Make me feel better? Chuuya," Chuuya watches him with wide eyes. "You can't fix this. You can't fix me. So don't even try, got it?"
Chuuya bristles, looking increasingly irritated.
"I was only trying to help you." He defends himself, and Dazai curls in on himself, his stomach hurting from how hard he's laughing. He knows what to do now. He knows how to push all the right buttons to get Chuuya to leave him the hell alone, because it's what he's good at. Upsetting people, making them miserable, making them cry.
"Some good that did." He says, and he's expecting it, but God, does the punch to his nose smart. He doesn't stop laughing. He can't. People are staring at them, and Dazai is bleeding, and his laughs are starting to sound more like sobs.
"I don't know why I even try with you!" Chuuya shouts. "It's always the same thing! You start to open up, and then you shut me out again! Can't you just let yourself be vulnerable for once?"
"No." Dazai says, all his laughter cutting off in a strangled noise. "You think that was me opening up? Oh, Chuuya," He grins at Chuuya with bloody teeth. "All that sad, soppy shit doesn't mean anything to me. It wasn't hard for me to talk about it, because I don't care. I wasn't opening up. I wasn't being vulnerable, even if you thought I was. I let you know those things because they don't have any kind of value."
"You're sick in the head." Chuuya tells him, his eyes wide with horror. Dazai tilts his head and looks him in the eye.
"Don't I know it. You want me to open up?" He asks, and grins wider. "Tough. You'll never know anything about me that I don't want you to."
"Why?" Chuuya asks him, sounding about as helpless as Dazai feels. "Why, Dazai?"
Dazai straightens and wipes his nose with his sleeve. It stains the white fabric a deep red.
"I'm not human, Chuuya." He says, feeling detached and not at all real. "The sooner you get that into your head, the better."
"But you are." Chuuya says. His voice is trembling, and his eyes look glossy and wet. Dazai falters. "You are human. You're living and breathing, and you have a beating heart. You're human, just like me."
Dazai stares at him blankly.
"How can you possibly believe that?" He asks, his voice quiet, dulled down. He's not laughing anymore. "There's so much evidence that proves otherwise. I didn't take you for the kind of person who disregards facts because of pitiful emotions."
"You're mean." Chuuya says shakily. "You say the meanest things, because you know they hurt. Don't you think, in order to understand another human brain so well, you'd have to be human yourself?"
Dazai's brain stops its whirring and racing and just stills, for a moment.
"What?" He asks. He tries to keep it casual, but it comes out hoarse.
"You're human." Chuuya tells him firmly. Then he grabs Dazai's arm by his sleeve, tugging him forward. "And you're bleeding. We should clean that up."
Dazai lets himself be pulled along to the public restroom outside the arcade, the cold air hitting his skin and biting at his cheeks. His breath leaves a cloud in the air. Chuuya pushes him inside the restroom and follows him in, grabbing a few paper towels and wetting them under the faucet.
"What is it with you and ruining your white shirts?" Chuuya asks him, disdainfully.
"You're the one that keeps giving me nosebleeds." Dazai says, and winces when Chuuya shoves the paper towels into his hands. He wipes at his face to clean it. The bleeding has stopped now, which is good, but there's still blood drying on his face and his sleeve, as well as some drops on the collar of his shirt. "Why are you still here, anyways? You said it yourself, right? I'm mean. You shouldn't stick around me."
He doesn't mean it. He desperately wants Chuuya to stay, wants to keep him by his side forever. He wants Chuuya to be his person. The one he can go to for everything and anything. But he doesn't know where to even begin. There's no one he's ever been able to do that with.
Dazai has always hated romance movies. They're sappy and saccharine, too sweet on his tongue, and they don't make much sense. But it would be nice, maybe, to have a person like that. Someone he could lean on whenever he needs to. It's a shame, he thinks, that things like that don't exist in the real world. They can't possibly.
"Don't be stupid." Chuuya tells him, and Dazai is suddenly reminded why he fell for Chuuya in the first place. "You're an asshole. But even assholes need a friend."
Friends. Yeah. Dazai would like that.
"You hate me." He deadpans, still wiping at his face, and Chuuya glares at him.
"That'll have to change eventually," He grumbles. "Since I lost our bet, and everything."
That brings a smile to Dazai's lips, as hesitant as it is. He can feel his eyes crinkle at the edges.
"I forgot about that." He laughs lightly. "I guess I was too busy psychoanalyzing Yuan to really care."
Chuuya huffs, getting up on his tiptoes to wipe away some blood that Dazai had missed, and Dazai freezes. Chuuya is so close. The tips of his fingers brush the edge of Dazai's upper lip as he wipes a spot just under his nose. His touch is electric. Without thinking, he kisses Chuuya's fingers softly.
Chuuya yanks his hand away, and Dazai tenses. He's ruined it. Whatever moment they may have been having, he's stomped all over it because he can't control himself.
"What was that for?!" Chuuya demands. "Don't make me punch you again!"
His cover doesn't seem to have been blown, so Dazai laughs it off.
"You're just so fun to tease." He repeats his words from earlier, grinning.
"That's not funny." Chuuya mumbles, and Dazai tilts his head, searching his face for any sincerity.
"No?" He asks. "If you really don't like it, I'll stop."
Chuuya turns slightly red in the face and pushes him away.
"It's not a big deal." He says. "Come on, I'll walk you home."
Dazai rocks back on his heels and stuffs his hands back into his pockets.
"Am I a damsel in distress?" He asks, as Chuuya holds the door open for him. "Will you be my Prince Charming, Chuuya?"
Chuuya glares at him and Dazai smiles cheekily, his tongue poking out between his teeth.
"Will you stop that?" Chuuya huffs. "What's with you and all these references to fairytales, anyways? Calling yourself Snow White and all that."
Dazai shrugs.
"I like fairytales." He says. "They're unrealistic, but that's the whole point, right? They're not like those romance movies that masquerade as an everyday event."
"Romance movies are nice!" Chuuya protests, shoving him as they walk. Dazai shakes his head.
"They're unattainable." His voice comes out more hollow than he'd meant it to. "I don't like them. They pretend to be realistic, but it's all fake. There's no way love can actually be like that."
Chuuya scoffs at him.
"Have you ever even been in love?" He asks, kicking a pebble out of their way with the toe of his boot. Dazai stops in his tracks. Chuuya stops, too, watching him curiously. "...have you, Dazai?"
Dazai hesitates. Then he nods.
"Yeah," He says. "I think so."
Chuuya raises an eyebrow.
"You think so?" He asks. "Did anything ever come of it?"
Dazai swallows around the quickly growing lump in his throat.
"No." He says. "I'm not sure anything ever will."
"Oh." Chuuya stares at him. "Is this the person you told Emiko you're interested in?"
Dazai freezes. He'd forgotten Chuuya had seen all that.
"Yeah." He croaks out. Chuuya watches him carefully for a moment longer. Dazai feels like he's about to jump out of his own skin. But as if sensing that he doesn't want to talk about it, Chuuya moves on. He moves on to a topic Dazai also doesn't want to think about.
"Hey, who is that Mori Ougai guy?" He asks, and Dazai stiffens. He forces himself to begin walking again. "I kind of want to meet him."
Dazai whips around, his eyes blazing as he glares at Chuuya.
"No," He grinds out. "You don't."
Chuuya blinks at him in obvious confusion.
"Why not?" He asks. "He helped you, right? I'd like to thank him."
Dazai feels cold, like he's been dunked underwater in the middle of winter.
"You don't want to meet him." He says, again. "Don't even try."
"That's not an answer." Chuuya sounds frustrated. Dazai is frustrated, too, because he can't even begin to explain why. "Why not, Dazai?"
"You–" Dazai starts, but cuts himself off, pressing his lips together in a firm line. "Just don't, okay? He's dangerous."
Chuuya's eyebrows scrunch together.
"How can he be dangerous?" He asks. "He saved you."
Saved him. Dazai chokes out a disbelieving laugh.
"He helped me with my expenses, Chuuya." He says. "Don't you wonder what I had to offer in return?"
Chuuya frowns.
"I don't get it." He says.
"Just–" Dazai shudders. "Look, if you ever decide that you have to meet him, just don't go alone. Text me. I'll come with you."
He never wants to see Mori again. Not until the day he dies. Scratch that, not even then. But he doesn't want Mori to get his hands on Chuuya. So if that means Dazai has to see him again… then so be it.
"Something really bad happened to you, didn't it?" Chuuya asks him. Dazai blinks at him dumbly. "Your life sounds like it's been really rough. I'm sorry, Dazai."
Dazai laughs again, but it's so fake that it grates on his own ears.
"Don't be sorry," He says, kicking at Chuuya's feet. "It's all in the past, anyways. I don't care about it anymore."
"I don't think that's true." Chuuya says, and it's like Dazai has been shot. Leave it to Chuuya to throw him off his rhythm. He always seems to manage to do so. "I think you care about it."
"I didn't ask you to tell me what you think." Dazai can barely get through that sentence without his throat closing up around the words.
"Yes you did." Chuuya protests. He starts walking again. Dazai trails after him. "That night at the bar. You told me you wanted to hear what I had to say."
"That was then." Dazai says, his heart racing. "This is now."
"So what changed?" Chuuya asks.
Dazai struggles to find the right words.
"Well, I'm not on the verge of a panic attack, for one." That might just be a lie. Today has not been the greatest day of his life. "And two, I said so."
Chuuya scoffs at him.
"You're so petty." He says. "Grow up a little, won't you?"
Dazai feels a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. He lets it happen. It feels good to really smile after the shitstorm that today has been.
"I want to be a child forever," He whines. "I grew up too fast, Chuuya. Take me to the arcade more often, so I can pretend to be a kid again!"
Maybe there's more than a kernel of truth in those words. Chuuya elbows him.
"If you promise you'll study extra hard, then we can go to the arcade more often." He says, like he's a parent at his wit's end and Dazai is a leash kid. It makes Dazai laugh a little bit. "But I'm not kissing you again."
Dazai pouts.
"Aww, come on!" He knows he's whining, but it's funny. "You're no fun, Chuuya. Kissing at the arcade is part of the experience!"
"Who says that?!" Chuuya sputters.
"I do." Dazai answers, grinning. "And my word is basically equal to the Bible, so, you know."
Chuuya turns and jabs him in the chest with his pointer finger.
"You are so fucking full of yourself." He says. "Don't you ever get tired of acting like you're a god?"
Dazai's grin widens.
"Never." He responds. "It's the most fun I've ever had in my entire life."
Save for those few moments, when it was just him and Chuuya at the arcade, Chuuya's lips against his cheek. Dazai shivers at the memory.
"Are you cold?" Chuuya asks, frowning. "You can have my coat, if you want."
He's referring to the dark brown coat he's wearing over a white turtleneck. It's part of why Dazai had been so stunned when he'd opened the door earlier.
"Are we having a coat swap?" Dazai teases. "Is this a reality TV show?"
Chuuya is already shrugging off his coat, shoving it towards him. Dazai, with nothing else to do, takes it in his hands.
"Just put it on." Chuuya says, cheeks red from the cold. Dazai's smile softens. He can feel it. He puts Chuuya's coat on despite not being cold at all.
"We're almost back at my dorm," He reminds Chuuya. "I won't really need it for much longer."
It's warm. There must be fleece on the inside, because it's soft, too. Unbelievably so. He wants to keep it forever. It's better than his.
"You can keep it as insurance." Chuuya tells him. "Until I give you your coat back. And no arguing with me."
Dazai had been about to protest. He doesn't want to steal Chuuya's coat from him, even though it's really quite nice.
"Okay," He sighs. "Fine. I'll let you win just this once."
Chuuya tries to kick him, but Dazai hops away.
"I'm getting good at evading you!" He chirps, skipping ahead and spinning around so that he's walking backwards. "Soon I'll know all of your moves, Chuuya. Intimately."
"Why do you have to say it like that?!" Chuuya screeches, trying to kick him again. "You're so gross."
Dazai sniffs disdainfully at him.
"I'm not gross," He says. "I'm charming."
Chuuya raises an eyebrow at him, and Dazai's heart stutters in his chest. Chuuya really is dreadfully handsome.
"I thought you said I was the charming one?" Chuuya asks. "If I remember correctly, you called me Prince Charming."
This has all gone exactly according to Dazai's plan.
"He admits it!" He crows. "Chuuya is my Prince Charming! My white knight! He'll save me whenever I'm in imminent danger!"
"You're in danger of getting my fist in your gut right about now." Chuuya scoffs, and Dazai doesn't have to force the bright grin that flashes across his face. He thinks he sees Chuuya's face soften, like he's realized this smile is genuine.
Dazai's pulse races, so he uses his favorite party trick and slows it down to something normal.
"You're such a brute, Chuuya," He complains. "No one will want to touch me when they see all the bruises you've left."
"Cut it out!" Chuuya hisses. "People can hear you. You'll make them think I'm abusing you, or something."
"But you are!" Dazai whines. Chuuya punches him in the arm for that one. "See? There you go again!"
"You–!" Chuuya starts, but cuts himself off with a snarling noise. The hair on the back of Dazai's neck stands up. He'd like to hear that again. Preferably when they're alone. "We're here anyways, so just shut up already."
Dazai smiles, softer around the edges.
"Maybe you're not such a brute after all." He says, brightly. "You could even pass for a gentleman! Walking me home after our date! How sweet of you, Chuuya!"
"It wasn't a date!" Chuuya snaps, shoving him. "Just get inside and get me my books already!"
Dazai pauses, a sly grin creeping across his face.
"You could come in, you know?" He teases. "It's hardly our first date. I'd be willing to–" He's silenced as Chuuya follows through with his earlier threat and punches him in the gut. Dazai wheezes, curling in on himself.
"You and your dirty mouth." Chuuya grits out. "Go get my books, Dazai, or else."
And okay! Dazai has to follow Chuuya's orders when he speaks like that. He opens the door and skips inside his dorm towards his desk, picking up Chuuya's books. He pauses, thinking for a moment, before he sets them down again.
Dazai picks up a new sticky note and scribbles something on it quickly, sticking it just under the cover of Chuuya's calculus textbook. Then he picks the stack of books back up and trudges back to Chuuya.
"Here you go!" Dazai says, as he drops the books into Chuuya's waiting hands.
"Took you long enough." Chuuya grunts. "You didn't draw dicks on the page ledgers, right?"
Dazai gasps, bringing a hand up to rest over his heart.
"Chuuya!" He exclaims. "How vulgar. I would never dream of doing such a thing."
"You literally just got done propositioning me," Chuuya deadpans. "Not even five minutes ago. I think you've dreamed of much more vulgar things than vandalizing a textbook."
Dazai gives him a wink and what he knows to be a wicked smirk.
"I'll let you think about that, then." He croons. Chuuya turns bright red, and Dazai can practically see the smoke coming out of his ears.
"I will do no such thing!" He snaps, and Dazai grins, leaning lazily against the doorway. "Now go inside so I don't have to see your smug face anymore!"
"As you wish, Chuuya, dearest!" He blows Chuuya a kiss and shuts the door to the sounds of his grumbling.
Fyodor still isn't home. He's probably out with Nikolai. It is Saturday, after all. Dazai takes off Chuuya's coat so he can change out of his dirty shirt. He ends up wearing his sweatpants again, and a different Sanrio shirt than before. So he might like Cinnamoroll, too. What about it? He thinks about the look on Chuuya's face when he'd won the plushie, and finds himself smiling again.
God. Chuuya is the best and worst thing that could ever possibly happen to him. Dazai swaddles himself back up in Chuuya's coat and crawls onto his bed. He plugs in his phone just so he can text Chuuya once it's done charging. He's a lovesick fool.
Fyodor comes home to him sitting there, on his bed, in Chuuya's coat, half awake. He can't help it. The coat is so warm and soft, it's like a cloud. Fyodor takes one look at him and raises an eyebrow.
"That's not your coat." He deadpans. Dazai shrugs sleepily, burrowing deeper into the coat's collar. "Where's your other one? Did you finally give in and burn it?"
"Chuuya has it." Dazai says, his mouth feeling like cotton. Fyodor's other eyebrow raises, too.
"So he has your coat," Fyodor says. "And you have his. Is this a reality TV show?"
"That's what I said!" Dazai yawns. "He told me to keep it for insurance purposes. I could hardly refuse."
"And you're going to sleep in it?" Fyodor asks. It's Dazai's turn to raise an eyebrow, unimpressed.
"You already know the answer, so why are you asking?"
Fyodor nods.
"Did you eat dinner?" He holds up a bag of takeout as he speaks. Dazai hasn't eaten dinner, but he's also just not hungry.
"I had a sandwich." He lies. He's really far too sleepy to even try to eat right now. Fyodor scoffs at him.
"If you're so tired, just sleep already." He says. "What are you waiting for?"
"For Chuuya to text me back!" Dazai says, petulantly. He'd texted Chuuya shortly after he'd gotten into bed, but he hasn't gotten a response.
me
chuuya~
thank you for today
even if it didn't go
as planned
i had fun!!
So far, nothing. Dazai hates to admit that he's been pouting for the last half hour while awaiting Chuuya's answer. His phone is resting on his chest, and it's taking all his willpower not to pass out. Fyodor walks to the fridge to put the food away, grumbling something about teenagers in love. What an asshole. An asshole who's good at chess.
His phone dings, and he nearly throws himself off the bed when he tries to get to it.
slug
you're such a loser
only you could call
getting punched in
the nose fun
Dazai's heart pounds as he types out a response.
me
it's fine if ur the one doing it tho
slug
gross! don't get me
involved in your
weird pain kink
me
;)
u know u love me
This time it takes Chuuya a couple minutes to get back to him. Dazai waits impatiently, tapping his fingers on the back of his phone. Meanwhile, Fyodor comes back and clambers onto his own bed.
slug
you fucking wish
Dazai absolutely does wish. With all his heart. He desperately wants Chuuya to reciprocate his affections, to love him, to kiss him and hold him and put him out of his misery. But he can't say that. So he settles for something else.
me
:(
chuuya is so mean
to me
slug
you deserve it.
bastard mackerel.
That makes Dazai laugh, an ugly snort followed by quiet chuckling.
me
meanie~
i'm going to tell oda-sensei on u
slug
go ahead and try it
oda-sensei fucking loves me
me
he loves me more tho
slug
keep telling yourself that
i'm his top student, you know
Dazai snorts again at that. Once upon a time, he'd been Oda's top student. It hadn't lasted long before he'd sunk to the bottom of a pit of despair, his grades plunging down with him. If he were to really try, there's no contesting that he'd have the highest scores again. But he'll let Chuuya have this.
me
i can't believe ur calling me dumb
slug
I DID NO SUCH THING
me
i'm going to bed
feel bad about it
goodnight chuuya~
my prince charming~
slug
i won't feel bad about it
because i did nothing wrong
goodnight shitty dazai
Dazai smiles softly, letting his phone fall back onto his chest and closing his eyes. It's not hard for him to sleep with the lights on, considering one eye is permanently in pitch darkness, so he only has to turn onto his left side to block it out. Fyodor turns off the lights for him anyways.
Dazai feels a little bit guilty, and a little bit grateful, too. He thinks Fyodor is probably traumatized from living in the same dorm as him. The stain of his blood still hasn't been fully cleaned from the bathroom tiles, leaving a washed out brown ring where he'd laid on the floor. That, Dazai does feel guilty for.
"Thanks, Fyodor." He mumbles sleepily. Fyodor makes a noise of indifference.
"Are you dying?" He asks. "You've never thanked me before."
"Yeah, well." Dazai yawns. "I'm thanking you now. Don't get used to it."
"Sleep well, Dazai."
Dazai can only grunt before he drifts off to dreamland. He dreams of fiery red hair and ocean blue eyes, of Chuuya's sharp words and low tones. He dreams of comfort. He dreams of warmth. It's the best sleep he's had in a long while.
He wakes up in the morning feeling rested, still wrapped in Chuuya's coat. It must have helped. It smells like cinnamon.
Dazai snorts, his eyes not even fully open, nuzzling into the coat collar more. He doesn't know why he hadn't realized it before. It seems like Chuuya really, really likes Cinnamoroll. Maybe he slept with the plushie last night. Dazai hopes so.
He's hit with the very, very cute image of Chuuya holding the plushie close to him, snoring a little bit. It makes him wiggle his toes in glee.
He lounges in bed for a bit longer before he forces himself to get up. He has a calculus test today. He can't afford to miss it or fail. He has to do Chuuya proud.
But not too proud. He has to find the fine line of how many answers to get right and wrong. High enough to pass, but low enough that it's clear he's still struggling.
As he finishes the test, he feels just a little bit guilty. Chuuya had said friends. That's what he'd wanted them to be. It kills Dazai just a little bit to know all of it will be based on a lie.
But what's wrong with that? Everything Dazai has ever done has been based on lies and deceit and manipulation. Who is he to suddenly change and become a better person? He's… He's not that kind of man yet. Maybe he never will be. But when he texts Chuuya a picture of his score, and an "I passed!", he gets a smiley face and several exclamation marks as a response. That's enough for him. That's enough for now.
Chuuya is going to leave anyway. Dazai might as well keep him around for as long as possible. Even if he has to lie to do it.