The ride back to the hotel is experienced in peaceful silence. The white sunhat the two of them had bought for Cécile sits in Chuuya's lap, and he tries to remember not to accidentally squish it with his hands. He opens his mouth to speak, to say something to Dazai, but he's silenced by the sudden weight of Dazai's head on his shoulder.
When Chuuya turns his head slightly, craning his neck just to catch a glimpse, he sees that Dazai's eyes are closed, his dark lashes resting on his cheeks. He's still, breathing quietly, and it's then that Chuuya realizes that Dazai has fallen asleep.
It's dark outside of the glass windows of their cab, the streetlamps lighting up the street and casting shadows on the pavement of the sidewalks. It should be uncomfortable, the way Dazai is bent at an angle just to rest his head, but he doesn't seem to be aware at all. Chuuya reaches a hesitant hand out to brush a few strands of hair away from Dazai's face, and Dazai stirs a bit, making a sleepy noise before nestling further into Chuuya's shoulder.
Chuuya can't help the soft huff of laughter that leaves his lips, but it's not out of malice. Dazai is cute like this, and for once he looks peaceful, innocent almost. Chuuya thinks back to their conversation on the tower, how Dazai had tried to smile and brush it off after, and he frowns. He wants to see Dazai smile for real, like he had on the carousel, a soft breeze tousling his hair.
In that moment, Chuuya had felt something new. Something that scares him, just a little bit. The words had flown out of his mouth before he could stop them.
"You're beautiful."
It's a blessing that Dazai hadn't heard him. Dazai has never been shy with complimenting Chuuya, but for some reason Chuuya is hesitant to do the same. For one, he doesn't want Dazai to get the wrong idea about what he means, even if…
Even if Chuuya's heart has been pounding ever since Dazai rested on his shoulder. Even if he'd been left breathless after the carousel ride from seeing Dazai smile so wide. Even if after all is said and done, he had only denied them being together as a force of habit. That scares him, too. The thought that maybe he wouldn't mind if people mistook them for a couple is too much for him to handle.
So he doesn't. He shoves it to the back of his mind and refuses to think about it any longer. In the dark of the cab, lit only by the passing lamps that line the streets of Paris, Chuuya refuses to admit that every day, he falls a little more for the enigma that is Dazai Osamu. Because love is scary and doesn't last.
He thinks of his mother, how devoted she is to a man that left her when things got too tough, who refuses to take her ring off even though they haven't spoken in years. No, love doesn't last. Real life isn't like the romantic comedies that play on the silver screen, and love always ends in heartbreak.
Chuuya refuses to be like Cécile, as much as he loves her. He can't stand the thought of being so in love that after being abandoned, he wouldn't get over it. Besides, it's not like Dazai is serious about being together, anyway. Yeah. That's what Chuuya chooses to believe.
He shakes himself out of those thoughts as the cab pulls up to the curb outside their hotel and moves his hand to shake Dazai's shoulder as gently as possible.
"Dazai," He murmurs. "Dazai, wake up. We're here."
Dazai makes a snuffling noise and lifts his head off of Chuuya's shoulder.
"Already?" He asks, rubbing his eyes. His voice is hoarse with sleep, making it lower than normal. Chuuya's traitorous heart pounds in his chest.
"Yeah," Chuuya says, swallowing down butterflies in his stomach that threaten to rise to his throat. "So come on, idiot. You still have to pay the driver."
"Oh." Dazai says, and lowers his hands to shove them into his pockets. Chuuya watches as he grabs his wallet and flips it open, grabbing the necessary bills, plus extra for the tip. He hands it to the cab driver with no preamble. "Merci."
Chuuya can't help the smile that grows on his face. Leave it up to Dazai to pick up French after only two days in Paris.
"Avec plaisir." The cab driver responds, turning in his seat to offer both of them a smile. Dazai glances over at Chuuya with an amused expression.
"I don't know what that means." He whispers conspiratorially, but nods at the driver anyway.
As they both exit the cab, through opposite doors, Chuuya laughs. He steps around the car to join Dazai on the sidewalk.
"With pleasure," He explains. Dazai smiles at him softly, and Chuuya's stomach twists with nerves.
"I'll try to remember that." Dazai says. In that moment, Chuuya feels a drop of something wet hit his face. Then another.
"It better not be fucking raining right now." He says, grimacing. More droplets follow.
"I think it's fucking raining right now." Dazai teases, grinning wide. He immediately takes off for the double doors of the hotel, leaving Chuuya behind in the rain.
"Hey! Don't just leave me here!" Chuuya shouts, holding his arms over his head as the rain comes down harder.
Dazai laughs, turning around as he makes it under the eaves of the building. Chuuya is running towards him, and as he gets closer, he realizes that he's not going to be able to stop in time. In a brilliant moment of what can only be nature saying "Fuck you", Chuuya slips on the wet pavement and comes careening forward.
Dazai throws his arms out to catch him, but is unable to stop physics from throwing him backward. They hit the ground under the eaves with a thump . After a few brief moments of shock, Chuuya bursts out laughing. Dazai joins him, and Chuuya pushes himself upwards with both hands now on the pavement, hovering over him.
He's immediately struck breathless. Dazai's eyes are squeezed shut with how hard he's laughing, and Chuuya doesn't realize he's gone quiet until Dazai opens them to look up curiously. Chuuya lets his eyes flicker down to watch Dazai's lips for just a second.
"What's on your mind?" Dazai breathes, the sound of the rain pounding on the sidewalk nearly drowning out his voice.
Well, here goes nothing.
"I really want to kiss you right now." Chuuya admits. There's a brief moment of silence, save for the rain, before Dazai speaks.
"Then what are you waiting for?" He asks. Chuuya catches the confusion on his face, the wrinkle on his brow from where his eyebrows are scrunched together.
"For you to tell me I can." Chuuya says. Dazai's eyes widen, and Chuuya thinks they might even sparkle.
"You can kiss me, Chuuya." Dazai says, and Chuuya doesn't hesitate to follow through.
He leans down gently and Dazai meets him halfway, raising himself up off the ground just enough that he's not quite laying down anymore. Their lips press together gently, and Chuuya feels Dazai's hands thread their way into his damp hair. There's no need to deepen it. It's good just the way it is, soft and sweet, and Dazai's breath fans across Chuuya's lips when he pulls back just enough to speak.
"We should go inside." Dazai murmurs, and Chuuya wants to groan. He doesn't want to leave this moment as it is. He wants to stay here forever, with Dazai's lips on his. Dazai seems to sense his frustration and laughs lightly. "You need to get off of me for that to happen." He adds.
Reluctantly, Chuuya sits back on his heels and uses the momentum of his hands to get to his feet. He offers Dazai a hand once he's standing, and pulls him up to stand beside him.
"Fine." He mutters, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Let's go."
He sets off towards the glass doors, Dazai trailing behind him.
"Aww, come on, Chuuya, don't pout!" He chimes. "You can always kiss me when we get back to our room!"
"You're a menace." Chuuya says, grabbing the handle of one of the doors and holding it open for Dazai to step through. "I don't know if I want to kiss you anymore." Then, when he sees Dazai's crestfallen expression, he adds, "I'm joking."
Dazai's face quickly morphs into a mischievous grin.
"I'm irresistible, aren't I?" He teases, skipping through the door. Chuuya just rolls his eyes, shaking his head.
"I can never tell if you actually have the enormous ego you pretend to or not." He says, following behind Dazai.
He feels a bit guilty, trailing water onto the red carpeted floor of the lobby, even though they hadn't been in the rain for long enough to be soaking. Even so, the ends of his hair are dripping. The man at the desk gives them a dirty look, but Chuuya pays it no mind. Instead, he makes his way towards the elevator with Dazai in tow.
"What if we kissed in the elevator?" Dazai asks, grinning, and Chuuya reaches out to slap him even as he presses the button for the elevator doors.
"Not a chance in hell." He says, glaring at Dazai. "There are cameras in there. This is a five-star hotel, security is top tier."
"Boo." Dazai pouts. The elevator doors open with a ding, and the two of them step inside. "You're boring. Chuuya is boring."
Chuuya shoots a glance up to the top corner of the elevator, where a security camera watches their every move.
"Yeah, I'd rather be boring than get kicked out of a five-star hotel for public indecency." He scoffs, kicking at Dazai's shoes with one of his feet. Dazai hops back to avoid it, and Chuuya's stomach swoops as the elevator rises.
"We've already been plenty indecent." Dazai points out, very unhelpfully. "You pinned me against the ground outside of the lobby and kissed me in the rain. That sounds like something out of a movie."
That has Chuuya's cheeks heating. He lifts his hands to cover his face before Dazai can see how red it gets and point it out.
"Shut up," Chuuya says, and then peeks out through the gaps between his fingers. "I thought you hated romances."
In front of him, Dazai bounces up and down on the balls of his feet.
"I used to." He murmurs, not meeting Chuuya's eyes. "Maybe Paris changed that. It's the city of love, right?"
Chuuya wrinkles his nose.
"It's really not all that special." He says, dropping his hands to his sides. "And it's not perfect like the movies, either."
Dazai gives him a Cheshire grin.
"Oh, Chuuya," His voice doesn't match the mischievous expression on his face. It's soft, and almost mournful. "Nothing is."
"That's okay, though." Chuuya says. "Life is what we make of it, right?"
He feels like he's grasping at straws here. Something in his chest deflates when Dazai only shrugs. He gives Chuuya a half-smile, not really there. His eyes are dark again. They've lost their earlier sparkle, and Chuuya feels like he's staring into two pits of tar. Rather than unsettle him, it only serves to make him sad.
"If you say so, Chuuya!" Dazai chimes, his cheerful facade back in place. If Chuuya were a little less observant, he might have missed the way it had dropped in the first place.
"I do say so." Chuuya says, bitterness creeping into his tone. He just wishes Dazai would drop the act around him. He wishes Dazai would realize that Chuuya doesn't need him to be happy all of the time.
Those moments where Dazai had cried in his arms are precious to him, Chuuya realizes. And it's not to say that he wants to ever see Dazai cry again, but if that's what Dazai needs, then Chuuya wants Dazai to trust him with that. But Dazai won't. Not yet, Chuuya can tell.
Which is fine. Chuuya just has to try harder to be trustworthy. It's astonishing to him that Dazai trusts him at all, given the shit he's pulled. The thought makes him grimace, and his hands clench into fists at his sides. He needs to be better.
When he looks up, Dazai is watching him with soft, curious eyes. His hair has dried just enough that it's not dripping anymore, but it's still damp enough for a few strands to press flat against his cheeks.
"What are you thinking about?" He asks.
"You." Chuuya replies dumbly. Then he shakes himself out of it. "Don't get any ideas! I know I kissed you last time you said that, but we are not kissing in front of a camera."
Dazai's lips quirk into a soft smile.
"Worth a shot." He murmurs. "Why me, though?"
It's then that Chuuya takes a page out of a book he never thought he'd have to use. He lies.
"It's nothing." He says, but his thoughts are screaming: You're beautiful, you're beautiful.
Dazai frowns, but doesn't push, and Chuuya sighs in relief. There's another nauseating movement from the elevator as it rests on the fifth floor, and the doors ding once before opening. The hall is empty, which is a relief, because it means Chuuya can grab Dazai by the hand and yank them towards their room.
"113, 113…" Chuuya mutters, digging around in his pocket with his free hand for their key card as they walk. They come to a stop outside their door, and Chuuya finally manages to get the card out of his pocket just in time. He swipes it in the slot and hurries to grab the door handle as a high pitched beep rings out. Turning it emits a light click, and the door swings open.
Chuuya wastes no time dragging Dazai inside and closing the door behind them so that he can pin Dazai to the wall space beside it. Dazai's dark hair hangs into his eyes, his pupils blown wide.
"Is this private enough for you?" He breathes. The tension in the air is thick, almost electric.
As it is, Dazai is still much taller than Chuuya in this position. Chuuya doesn't think he comes off as very imposing, but the way Dazai's breath shakes on every exhale is all too telling.
"It'll do." Chuuya murmurs, and leans up on his tiptoes to close the distance between them.
Something snaps inside him as their lips meet, warmth pooling in his gut, and they should probably eat real food but Dazai tastes sweet like this, sweet like the crépes they'd eaten just two hours earlier, and Chuuya wouldn't have it any other way. He tugs on Dazai's lower lip with his teeth and then releases it, pulling away altogether.
Dazai's face is flushed, his lip red and swollen where Chuuya had bitten it, but his hands are fisted in the fabric of his slacks, like he won't allow himself to touch Chuuya.
"I want you," Chuuya admits. "Are you okay with that?"
"Yes," Dazai says hurriedly. "Yeah, I'm okay with it."
Chuuya takes a step back and Dazai lurches forward after him before seemingly stopping himself.
"How far do you want to go?" Chuuya asks. Dazai's brow furrows as he thinks of an answer.
"Whatever Chuuya wants." He decides, and Chuuya shakes his head.
"No, we're not doing that." Chuuya says. "I need a real answer. I need to know your actual limits."
Dazai grimaces, his eyes closing.
"Isn't it a turn-off to talk about it?" He grits out.
"Not at all." Chuuya tells him. "I think consent is sexy, personally."
That gets Dazai to smile, if only briefly. Chuuya lets him take his time to think. It's only a few moments of silence before Dazai manages to answer.
"No penetration." He says, and then winces, like it's something to be ashamed of. "I'm still sore. Touching is fine, just…"
"No penetration." Chuuya finishes. "Okay, no problem. Are you okay with taking your clothes off?"
Dazai nods his head in jerky movements and gets to work. He pulls off his sweater vest and starts unbuttoning his collar. Chuuya can't help but giggle when his shirt gets caught over the top of his head.
"Fuck." Dazai grunts. "Chuuya, help me."
"Wiggle more," Chuuya instructs, tugging at the fabric. Dazai listens, wiggling his head through the neckline of the shirt. The shirt comes off shortly after and is thrown to the floor.
Chuuya reaches out a hand to trace his fingers along Dazai's bare collarbone and relishes in the shiver that he gets in response. Goosebumps form on the skin under his fingertips, and Dazai leans forward into the touch.
"Cold," He murmurs, and Chuuya strokes the stark outline of bone with his thumb, a testament to the idea that Dazai needs to be eating more.
"Yeah?" Chuuya asks, distracted by Dazai's bare skin. "Don't worry, I'll warm you up."
He slips his hand down to the front of Dazai's slacks, palming his crotch where he's starting to get hard, and Dazai jerks forward.
"Fuck," He breathes shakily, and his hands fumble with the buckle of his belt. Chuuya leans forward to suck a mark into the skin of his chest and Dazai whimpers.
"Bed." Chuuya mumbles against Dazai's skin, and somehow they both manage to wind up on the closest mattress to the door, Dazai sitting down with Chuuya on top of him. He latches onto the skin of Dazai's neck, just under his earlobe, and leaves a mark there, too. "This is mine."
That startles a laugh out of Dazai, whose hands are clenching and unclenching in the fabric of Chuuya's shirt.
"My neck?" He jokes. Chuuya pulls away far enough to look him in the eyes.
"You." He says. "You're mine."
Dazai's face softens.
"I'm yours."
That's enough to have Chuuya surging forward again, capturing Dazai's lips in a passionate kiss, his hands coming up to thread into Dazai's hair, still damp from the rain. He tugs lightly, just to get a reaction, and is pleased when Dazai whimpers into his mouth. Chuuya nips at Dazai's lower lip again, just enough to get him to open his mouth and let Chuuya in.
It's hot like summer and sweet like the strawberries in their crépes had been, and Dazai's lips are soft like clouds against Chuuya's. It's perfect. Dazai is perfect, and Chuuya pulls away again to say so. But what he sees stops him.
Dazai's eyes are closed, his lips still parted, and in that instant a single tear trails down his cheek. Chuuya immediately panics, reaching up to Dazai's face to wipe the tear away with his thumb.
"Hey, hey," He says hurriedly. "What's wrong? Do you need to stop?"
Dazai lets out a wet chuckle at that.
"No," He murmurs. His eyes open, and they're wet, but no more tears fall. "They're happy tears, I think."
"Oh." The breath Chuuya lets out is one of relief. "Don't scare me like that!" He scolds, but it's all lighthearted.
His hand lowers and rests on Dazai's bare shoulder, stroking the skin there gently. Dazai leans forward enough just to peck Chuuya on the lips, pulling away moments later and leaving him shocked. Then he smiles, soft, but wide enough for the skin at the corners of his eyes to crinkle.
"I like this." He says. Then adds, "I'd like it more if you actually touched me."
Chuuya rolls his eyes.
"You're so fucking impatient." He mutters, but a smile plays on his lips.
"Chuuya!" Dazai whines, bumping their foreheads together. "Touch me. Please, I want it."
So Chuuya does. He lets his hands wander until the touches he gives are no longer innocent, and laughs when one finds its way between Dazai's legs.
"We never got your pants off." He explains, when Dazai glances at him in confusion, his face scrunched up in that cute way it does when he's thinking hard about something. The expression melts away into an easy smile.
"Who cares?" Dazai says. "I don't."
"I don't either." Chuuya agrees, and slips his hand down the front of Dazai's pants to wrap around his cock, heavy and hard just from kissing and Chuuya's tactful ministrations.
Dazai lets out a breathy groan, arching into the touch, and Chuuya grins, bending to bite at his neck again. It's too dry, so Chuuya only gives a few strokes, nibbling at Dazai's neck, before he mumbles, "Lube?"
Dazai reaches out blindly for the bedside table, leaning at an uncomfortable angle so he can open one of the drawers and fumble around inside. He seems to find what he's looking for after just a few moments of searching, and hands it to Chuuya with shaky fingers. At Chuuya's raised eyebrow, he smirks.
"It's a five-star hotel for a reason." He says, and Chuuya rolls his eyes, but takes the lube nevertheless, popping open the cap and squinting a liberal amount between his fingers. Then he reaches back into Dazai's pants again.
This time it's better, slick with the lube and just a bit of precome, and Dazai lets out a shaky breath that turns into a quiet whine when Chuuya only strokes him slowly.
"What?" Chuuya teases. "You want more?"
Dazai shudders, nodding in agreement.
"Please," He whispers. "Come on, Chuuya, I've been patient. I've been good."
That's right. If there's one thing Chuuya has learned from sleeping with Dazai, it's that he likes praise and reassurance.
"You have been good," Chuuya croons. "I guess I can give you what you want."
He speeds up his hand, flicking his wrist on the upstroke, and absentmindedly rubs his thumb over the slit of Dazai's cock. Dazai squirms, but otherwise stays still, holding onto Chuuya like a lifeline.
"Chuuya," Dazai whines. "Please."
"What do you need, Dazai?" Chuuya asks, and Dazai curls forward just a bit, his eyes scrunched closed.
"Call me by my name." He says, and it's barely a whisper, but Chuuya hears it all the same. It takes him a moment to understand, but when he does, he jerks in shock, Dazai hissing at the sudden movement of his hand.
"Osamu?" Chuuya tries. Dazai shivers and lets out a low groan, arching further into Chuuya's touch. "Osamu. You're so good, Osamu."
It feels strange on his tongue, a word, a name he'd never even thought of asking to use. Somewhere in his head, Chuuya thinks there might be a reason for that. Perhaps the way Dazai had reacted to other people calling him that name, stiffening or flinching away. Although he can only ever recall one person using it.
He pushes those thoughts aside. Dazai looks beautiful like this, nearly undone, his hair frizzy from air-drying and flushed red from his cheeks down to his chest. Chuuya would do anything just to keep the memory of this view forever. He twists his wrist again and Dazai lets go of his shirt with one of his hands to bite down on his own wrist, muffling a curse.
"What are you so quiet for?" Chuuya teases. "Doesn't it feel good, Osamu?"
Dazai removes his wrist from his mouth and whines again.
"Fuck," He says. "Fuck, yeah, it feels good, Chuuya."
"Then don't keep quiet." Chuuya orders. "I want to hear you."
Dazai jerks into his grip as Chuuya tightens his hand just a bit, and lets out another broken sound.
"Please," He says. "Please, please, Chuuya, I want–"
He cuts himself off and sucks his lip between his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut tighter.
"Look at me." Chuuya says, and Dazai's eyes immediately open. They're dark, his pupils blown wide with lust, and he looks fucked out already even though it's only been a few minutes. "Tell me what you want."
"Can I touch you?" Dazai blurts out. "Please? I want to."
Chuuya blinks, shocked for a moment, before nodding.
"Yeah, yes, of course." He hurries to say. Dazai immediately reaches down to where Chuuya has been ignoring his own arousal, fingers fumbling as he undoes the button at the top of Chuuya's jeans and pulls down the zipper.
Chuuya shifts so that his knees are on either side of Dazai's lap, giving him the leverage he needs to raise himself up so Dazai can get his pants and boxers down enough. He doesn't know when Dazai had time to get his hands on the lube, but when Dazai's hand wraps around him he lets out a sigh of pleasure, unable to contain himself.
Dazai does something twisty with his wrist and Chuuya groans, speeding up his hand out of spite.
"Fuck you," He pants. "Why are you good at literally everything?"
Dazai smirks at him and rubs his palm over the head of Chuuya's cock.
"Everything but calculus." He points out, trying to sound composed, but his breathing is shaky and uneven.
"You really think you're all that, don't you?" Chuuya asks, leaning forward to rest his head on Dazai's shoulder and kicking his hips into Dazai's hand.
"Aren't I?" Dazai's voice is smug, but strained. He sounds like he's close, which is good, because it would be all too embarrassing if Chuuya finished first after only being touched for a few minutes.
Dazai's question goes unanswered, only receiving a muffled moan in response as the heat in Chuuya's gut grows unbearable, his abdomen tightening. He's hit by a sudden overwhelming emotion, one he can't even begin to understand. He can feel the words begin to spill out, and refuses to let them, latching onto Dazai's shoulder with his teeth and biting so hard he thinks he draws blood, even as his thoughts are screaming, I love you, I love you, I love you.
Dazai jolts and curses, and then he's coming over Chuuya's fingers, his hand tightening around Chuuya's cock and sending Chuuya over the edge, too, white hot pleasure shooting down his spine and making his toes curl in his shoes. It lasts for what feels like an eternity.
They come down together, breathing heavily, and Chuuya feels a soft weight on the top of his head as Dazai rests his cheek there.
"Holy shit." Dazai says, and Chuuya hums in agreement. His bones feel heavy, weighed down by exhaustion, but it's the good kind.
They pull apart slowly, and Chuuya grimaces at the stickiness on his fingers.
"This room wouldn't happen to have tissues in it, would it?" He asks. Dazai laughs and gestures to the bedside table with a tilt of his head. Grumbling, Chuuya reaches over to grab a few from the box, wiping his hands and giving Dazai a few, too.
"We need a shower." Chuuya decides, and then freezes when he remembers the last time they did that. Dazai doesn't tense up, or show any sign of remembering, though.
"Yeah, okay." He agrees, running a hand through Chuuya's hair.
"That hand better be clean." Chuuya deadpans, and Dazai laughs.
"Who exactly do you take me for?" Dazai asks, grinning. "It's clean. Let's go."
Chuuya glances at him suspiciously, but gets off of his lap anyways. Then something dawns on him. He rushes to the bathroom and slams the door shut.
"I'm going first!" He yells through the door, his heart pounding.
"What happened to showering together?" Dazai calls, sounding confused. Chuuya feels guilt rush through him, locking the door and reaching into the shower to turn it on.
"I can't hear you! The water is too loud!"
He thinks he hears Dazai laugh, but ignores it in favor of sinking to the floor. Holy fucking shit. What has he done?
He'd promised himself he wouldn't. He'd decided there are no happy endings, and that he'd never be stupid enough to let something like this happen.
But when all is said and done, he knows it's true, and that he's fucked up immeasurably.
"Fuck." Chuuya breathes out harshly, barely able to hear himself over the running water. "I'm in love with Dazai Osamu."
Saying it aloud doesn't make him feel any better.
They visit Cécile again multiple times over the next few days. She wears the sunhat they'd bought her with pride, and her eyes sparkle when Chuuya proudly tells her it was Dazai's idea. Dazai just looks embarrassed to even be mentioned, like he wants to sink into the floor.
Even so, he smiles shyly when Cécile thanks him. It's cute. It's cute, and that makes Chuuya freeze, because he shouldn't be having those thoughts about Dazai. He can't. They're friends. They're finally friends for real, and Chuuya isn't about to let himself ruin that.
He can tell his mom knows something is wrong, because she keeps giving him concerned glances over the next few days when she thinks he isn't looking. He knows it's his fault for not acting well enough. He knows he's been quieter, more lost in thought. He can't help it, but he hates that he's worrying her.
It all comes to a head on the day of their last visit, before they have to fly back to Tokyo, when Dazai leaves to get coffee from the cafeteria. Probably straight black, because he's weird like that. But regardless of what coffee Dazai decides to get, Cécile sees her chance and seizes it.
"So, Chuuya," She starts, and Chuuya stifles a groan. "Is something bothering you?"
Chuuya buries his face in his hands to hide it.
"Do we really have to talk about it?" He asks, his voice muffled. There's a gentle weight on his shoulder as Cécile reaches a hand out to rest on his shoulder, and he lowers his hands, looking up at her.
"I think we should." She says, and her voice is soft, but firm. No excuses, then. But that doesn't mean Chuuya is going to be the first one to break the tension filled silence that follows.
"You love him, don't you?" Cécile asks, and Chuuya slumps in his chair.
"Am I that obvious?" He refuses to look at her face. Instead, his eyes fall to the golden band on her ring finger. Cécile laughs softly, her hand raising from his shoulder to her mouth.
"I knew as soon as I saw you together." She tells him, and Chuuya stiffens.
"Do you think he knows?" He asks, a bit frantically. Cécile just smiles behind her hand.
"No, I don't think so."
"Good." Chuuya says. "He can't know. Ever. God, this is so embarrassing."
"Why would you think that?" Cécile lowers her hand, frowning.
"Because!" Chuuya snaps. "We had a deal, okay? No feelings involved! And we were finally real friends, and then I had to go and break our rules and ruin it."
Cécile pauses, watching him carefully.
"Chuuya, who came up with the rules?"
Chuuya matches her gaze.
"Me." He says. "But Dazai agreed to them."
Cécile nods.
"And do you really think Dazai would care if you wanted to change them?" She doesn't sound judgemental, but Chuuya can't help but feel judged anyway.
"I don't know!" He exclaims, getting to his feet. "He's always making these jokes, and at first I worried he meant them and didn't want him to, but now it's all I want!"
Something flickers in Cécile's eyes, and Chuuya's cheeks immediately heat, mortified at having raised his voice at her. She's not upset about it, he can tell, but he still feels bad about it. He sits back down heavily and puts his face back in his hands.
"Chuuya," Cécile says, quietly. "Have I ever told you the story of this ring?"
She hasn't, but Chuuya already knows some of it.
"Dad gave it to you." He replies, voice sullen. He hates thinking about his father.
"He proposed to me in a pumpkin patch." Cécile says, and Chuuya can hear the smile in her voice. "I was so shocked that I dropped the pumpkin I was holding, and it exploded. There were pumpkin guts all over our clothes for the rest of the day, but I was so happy."
Chuuya lifts his face so that he can watch her while he listens. Her eyes are hazy, wistful as she recounts the story.
"I remember thinking I'd never be happier than when I was with him." She murmurs, and then smiles, her eyes clearing. "Then you were born and proved me wrong. You were such a little spitfire, even then."
"He left us." Chuuya says, flatly, and his mother seems to deflate.
"I know." She says. "I know you feel that way, and deep down I know that it's true, too, but… You go through life never knowing if the next day will be your last, and you find a person who you'd be glad to spend it with, even if it was. He was that person, my person."
Chuuya can't even argue. His mother smiles at him. She's always had such a pretty smile, even when she's sick.
"I think you've found your person, Chuuya." Cécile tells him. "Don't let him slip through your fingers, okay?"
"What if you're wrong?" Chuuya croaks, his voice suddenly hoarse. His eyes are stinging. "Or what if you're not, and we end up like you and Dad anyway, and I'm stuck feeling like this forever, even after he's left me?"
"Are you afraid to turn out like me, Chuuya?" Cécile asks.
"No!" Chuuya exclaims, and then hesitates. "Maybe? Love just seems so scary. Dazai was right, it's nothing like the movies. Being in love sucks."
The last words come out as more of a sob. Cécile rests her hand on his shoulder again, rubbing it with her thumb through the fabric of his shirt.
"Don't be afraid, Chuuya." She says, her voice soft. "Love is a beautiful thing, even if it hurts. I think you know that, and I think Dazai knows that, too. And I think if you told him how you feel, he wouldn't be as opposed to it as you might think."
Chuuya can't find it in himself to speak, and it's a good thing he doesn't, because Dazai comes back not a moment later with two cups in his hands.
"Hot chocolate for you," He says, handing Chuuya one of the cups. Even with the cardboard sleeve to protect his hand from being burned, it's hot to the touch. Dazai hands the other cup to Cécile. "And also for you, because I looked it up but I couldn't find out if caffeine has bad effects when paired with immune drug therapy."
Cécile smiles warmly at Dazai just out of Chuuya's field of vision. He's too busy staring at the cup in his trembling hand and thinking about how no matter how many times Dazai makes fun of him for liking a kid's drink, he'd gotten it for Chuuya anyways without being asked.
"I thought you were getting coffee for yourself." Chuuya accuses, shakily.
Dazai shrugs.
"I really shouldn't be having caffeine right now." He explains. "I'll be up all night, and we have to leave early tomorrow to catch our flight."
The reminder that they're leaving makes Chuuya's shoulders slump in resignation. He can feel Dazai's curious eyes on him, like a heated brand on his skin.
"Hey, Chuuya," Dazai says slowly. "Are you alright?"
"What?" Chuuya asks, jerking himself upright again. "Of course I am. What makes you ask?"
He's lying through his teeth.
"I don't know." Dazai shoves his hands in his pockets. "You're acting weird. You have been for the past two days. Did something happen?"
Cécile gives Chuuya a knowing look, but he ignores it.
"I just don't want to leave." He says. It's only half of the truth. Sure, he doesn't want to leave. He wants to stay here with Dazai and his mom forever. Fuck fashion design. Who needs that when he can just have this? When he can have a family again?
"We can keep in touch." Cécile tells him. Take your time, her eyes say. But don't let him go.
"Okay." It comes out sounding helpless, but he's already made up his mind. He'll never tell Dazai that he's caught feelings. He doesn't want to end up like his parents. He'll never be like them. He swears it.
Their flight leaves early in the morning, just like Dazai had said. They get briefly held up in security when Chuuya can't find his passport, but Dazai turns out to be holding onto it for him.
As soon as they get to their seats on the plane, Dazai is out like a light, snoring softly into Chuuya's shoulder.
"You're going to hurt your neck like that." Chuuya says softly, even though he knows Dazai can't hear him. For some reason, his eyes are stinging. "What an idiot."
He rests his cheek against the top of Dazai's head as soon as there's no more turbulence, the soft strands of hair tickling his skin. Rising above the clouds, Chuuya feels like he can't breathe. He feels a million eyes on him all at once, a million thoughts inside his head, and he can't quiet them. It's all too loud, and he can't cover his ears to drown it out.
But in an instant, all those thoughts are silenced when one of Dazai's hands curls into the fabric of the hoodie Chuuya is wearing. It's like a breath of fresh air has been shoved back into his lungs, and he can breathe again. Dazai is always helping him, even in his sleep.
Guiltily, Chuuya closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. Maybe he can get some sleep, too.
Once again, Dazai is the one to shake him awake when they land. Chuuya comes to just as the plane touches down on the runway, rolling along loudly.
"You let me sleep for too long again," Chuuya complains, his voice hoarse with sleep. Dazai shrugs, offering him a soft smile.
"I couldn't help it." He says. "You're cute when you're asleep. Even though you drool."
Chuuya wrinkles his nose.
"You're a creep." He says, and then freezes, reaching up to wipe his mouth. His hand comes back dry, and he scowls. "You asshole! I do not drool."
Dazai laughs.
"Just because you didn't this time doesn't mean you don't drool at all." He teases.
Chuuya rolls his eyes, punching Dazai in the shoulder as the plane slows to a halt.
"I hate you." He mutters, and pretends he doesn't know just how untrue it is. Dazai just smiles at him and reaches down to link their hands together.
"Keep telling yourself that." Dazai says.
"I will." Chuuya snaps, bristling. He's so scared that Dazai is going to find him out, and that everything will be ruined just like that. But Dazai says nothing. They exit the plane in silence, holding their carry-on bags in their free hands.
I love you, Chuuya thinks, as they get into a cab. I love you, he thinks, the entire ride back to campus. I love you, he thinks, as they part ways outside his dorm.
"I'll see you later." Dazai says, smiling.
"Yeah. See you."
I love you, Chuuya thinks. He won't ever say it out loud.
The next month and a half passes quickly for Chuuya, but he's not sure it feels the same for Dazai. They study together almost every day, meeting up for coffee, or at one of their dorms, and they almost always sleep together after. Chuuya never once tells Dazai he loves him.
He also works on the corduroy jacket in his free time, but if he's being honest, there isn't a lot of it, what with school work to catch up on and finals coming up. He can tell how stressed Dazai is about finals from the dark bags around his eyes and the scabs at the corners of his cuticles from tearing at them with his teeth.
Dazai also always seems to want to say something, but he doesn't. It's nerve-wracking. It has Chuuya worrying that maybe he knows, maybe Dazai knows and he just isn't saying anything.
They enter the second half of June, and one day when Chuuya comes over to study, Dazai isn't home yet. Someone else is, however.
Fyodor Dostoevsky sits on his mattress playing chess with one Edogawa Ranpo. He looks up when Chuuya comes in, the door having been unlocked.
"Oh, is Dazai not home yet?" Chuuya asks, a bit embarrassed.
"Not yet." Fyodor says, setting down a pawn with confident movements. The game looks to have just started. Ranpo turns to look at Chuuya over his shoulder. "Which is good, because there's something we need to talk to you about."
Chuuya swallows, suddenly nervous.
"Okay, sure." He says, shutting the door behind him and setting his bag down on the floor. "What do we need to talk about?"
This time, Ranpo answers instead of Fyodor.
"I'm sure you've noticed Dazai has been acting… strange, recently."
Chuuya nods.
"Because of finals, right?" He asks.
"No." Ranpo says. "The thing is, Dazai's birthday is coming up."
That has Chuuya perking up. He and Dazai had both been so busy after Chuuya's birthday that they had never actually discussed Dazai's.
(Dazai had still been upset that he wasn't told, so the day after they returned from France, he'd kicked open Chuuya's door and thrown a Cinnamoroll hoodie at his face.)
"Oh!" Chuuya exclaims, kneeling on the floor to take off his shoes. "What day is it?"
"June 19th." Fyodor responds. Neither he or Ranpo have made another move in chess. It seems the game is paused.
"That's tomorrow." Chuuya realizes. "What the fuck? He didn't say anything!"
"Whatever you're thinking, it's nothing personal." Fyodor reassures him. It barely calms Chuuya down at all. All he can think is that this is Dazai's way of getting back at him for not sharing about his birthday. "Ranpo and I only know because we snooped, and Dazai doesn't even know that we know."
Okay, that makes things a little better. But still, what the fuck, Dazai? Chuuya breathes in deeply, then out.
"Okay." He says. "I assume since you snooped, you also know why he hasn't said anything to anyone?"
Ranpo and Fyodor share a look.
"You might want to have a seat for this." Fyodor says.
Chuuya finishes taking off his shoes and stands, walking towards Dazai's bed and sitting down on the mattress. One glance at Dazai's desk shows an assortment of notebooks and sticky notes. It has Chuuya smiling for some reason, some association that he doesn't quite register.
"I'm sure Dazai's told you about his parents by now, right?" Ranpo asks. At Chuuya's shocked expression, he waves a hand flippantly. "Don't look so surprised. He trusts you."
Chuuya nods, feeling his stomach flutter at those words. Traitor, he thinks at it, bitterly.
"Did he ever tell you when they died?" Ranpo presses.
"No." Chuuya says, but he's beginning to grow a bit suspicious. His eyes widen as he realizes. "You're not saying…"
Ranpo just nods.
"They killed themselves the night before his eleventh birthday." He confirms. "Dazai found them in the morning. At least, that's what the police report says."
"Some birthday present." Fyodor mutters.
"So ignoring that you somehow read the police report, because I'm fairly sure that that's illegal…" Chuuya grits his teeth, his hands fisting in the fabric of his pants. "What the actual fuck?"
"My foster dad used to be in the force." Ranpo explains. "Now he's a private investigator. Long story short, I bribed him. I have my ways."
"So, what? He doesn't celebrate his birthday?" Chuuya asks, moving on. He can't help but frown.
"Would you?" Fyodor counters, raising an eyebrow. And… No. Chuuya wouldn't. He hardly even cares about his birthday now, even though gifts are nice. Mostly he just settles for a hangout with friends instead of an actual party.
"Probably not." Chuuya sighs. "So what do we do?"
Ranpo picks up a bag of chips that Chuuya hadn't seen before and shovels one into his mouth.
"Well," He says, when he finishes swallowing. "I doubt he'd want a big party, or whatever. But as long as he doesn't know we know, I'm sure he'd agree to go out and do something."
"Or," Fyodor adds. "You guys could just go do something special, since you're, you know. I'm sure you could make something up as an excuse."
"Excuse me?" Chuuya sputters, his face heating. "We're not together."
"Come on, you can't be that stupid." Fyodor tries. Chuuya levels him with the fiercest glare he can muster, and Fyodor sighs. "Okay, maybe you are. Look, Chuuya. Dazai… cares about you, okay? Which is saying something, because I've never really seen him care about anything before. I guess that's how you two got into this situation in the first place."
He says the last sentence with a twitch of his lips that looks suspiciously like a smirk. Chuuya has no idea what that is supposed to mean, so he ignores it.
"Well, yeah." He agrees. "Because we're friends."
"Friends who sleep together." Ranpo clarifies, very unhelpfully. At Chuuya's startled look, he offers a deadpan stare. "Yeah, you're not slick."
Fyodor wrinkles his nose.
"I'd rather not think about that." He says.
"Then stop talking about it!" Chuuya snaps, his cheeks flushing. "I'll figure something out for the two of us to do so he doesn't suspect anything. I don't think Dazai would appreciate either of you snooping into his personal life like that."
Just like that, they come to an agreement. There isn't much else said, because the door opens and Dazai steps inside, doing a double take at how many people are there. His mouth quirks into a small smile, but his eyes are only on Chuuya. Or is Chuuya just imagining things? He feels hot under the weight of Dazai's gaze.
"Is there a party I wasn't aware of?" Dazai asks teasingly, breaking eye contact with Chuuua to kneel down and unlace his boots.
It's a little bit too on the nose to not leave Chuuya stunned. He knows there's no way Dazai can know about their plans, but it's shocking regardless. In lieu of a proper answer, Ranpo holds up a pawn from the chessboard.
"Chess day." He says. "I hope we're not interrupting anything."
Dazai looks up from untying his shoes and smiles, but the bags under his eyes are dark, and only serve to make him look more tired.
"No worries." He tells them, slipping off his shoes one at a time and getting to his feet. "We're just studying.
Fyodor raises an eyebrow.
"You look like you should be napping instead."
Dazai shakes his head sluggishly.
"It's fine." He insists, but when he moves to sit beside Chuuya on his mattress his shoulders immediately sag. He leans into Chuuya seemingly without knowing he's doing it, and his eyelids flutter closed.
"Yeah, okay." Ranpo says, and gets to his feet. "Fyodor, let's take this game somewhere else so Mr. I-Don't-Sleep can get some shuteye."
Fyodor immediately starts grabbing chess pieces and putting them back in the box, ignoring Dazai's sleepy mumble of "You don't have to do that." in favor of folding up the board, too.
Chuuya gets distracted staring at Dazai, and he wonders how he hadn't noticed it had gotten this bad. Sure, he's busy with finals, too, but he feels guilty for not paying more attention.
"Stop staring at me." Dazai whispers, his eyes still shut and his lips curled into a soft smile.
"You look exhausted." Chuuya whispers back. "Why didn't you say anything?"
Dazai just shrugs, craning his neck at an uncomfortable angle to drop his head further onto Chuuya's shoulder.
"I didn't want to bother you." He says. "That's all."
Chuuya nudges him and Dazai makes a noise of complaint at being dislodged from his previous position.
"You know you can tell me anything." Chuuya murmurs.
There's a few moments of silence, and Dazai's eyes crack open.
"Yeah," He breathes, as Fyodor and Ranpo exit the room. "I know."
He doesn't sound like he believes Chuuya at all, which is frustrating, but Chuuya just takes a deep breath. The door clicks shut.
"Alright." Chuuya says, getting to his feet. Dazai whines in complaint again. "Calm down, I'm getting you something soft to wear. No studying today for you. You're gonna take a nap if I have to force you to."
He moves to Dazai's dresser and rummages around in drawers he's gotten used to from coming over so often. He pulls out sweatpants, a Sanrio shirt that is worn down with age, and because he knows Dazai likes them, a pair of fuzzy sleep socks. Normally he might throw them, but he's too worried about Dazai to be anything but gentle, so he turns and holds them out instead.
"Get changed." Chuuya says, as Dazai takes the clothes, blinking up at him sleepily. "Go on, I'll be here when you get back."
Dazai leaves to change in the bathroom, and Chuuya sits down at his desk to get to work on studying for his finals. He flips open his textbook and sticks the cap of his pen in his mouth. He's gotten into the habit of carrying pens on him whenever the two of them study, since Dazai can't use anything else without sensory issues.
As soon as he opens his textbook, he's met with an assortment of different sticky notes, all with varying poetry and compliments on them. They'd started up again as soon as he and Dazai had returned from Paris, which he supposes rules Dazai out once and for all. He can't help the disappointment that curdles in his stomach at that thought, or the frown that crosses his face.
Dazai returns and immediately crawls onto the mattress and under the covers, curling into a ball. He must be really, really tired. Once again, Chuuya feels guilt well up inside him. He watches Dazai lay still for a few minutes, save for the soft rise and fall of his chest, distracted and unable to get any studying done.
"Chuuya," Comes Dazai's voice after a few more minutes, raspy with sleep. "I can't sleep."
"What can I do to help?" Chuuya asks, setting his pen down.
Dazai rolls over to face him, his eyes heavy-lidded and looking almost bruised from how dark the bags under them are.
"Sleep with me?" He asks, sounding small. He looks small, too, and fragile.
Fuck it.
"Okay," Chuuya says, closing his textbook and getting to his feet. "Move over."
Dazai does, making room and holding the covers up so Chuuya can get under them. As soon as Chuuya does, Dazai latches onto him like a koala, curling so he can rest his head on Chuuya's chest, seemingly his favorite position to sleep in.
"Goodnight." He murmurs, and is out like a light before Chuuya can respond. Chuuya lets out a sigh of relief, running his fingers through Dazai's hair.
"Goodnight, Dazai." He says back. And then, because he knows Dazai can't hear him, "I love you."
Chuuya spends the entire morning of the next day setting up Dazai's party. It's not even really a party, just a celebration for the two of them, but he decides that Dazai needs to have a cake, because he isn't sure that Dazai has ever even had one. It's a small cake. Chuuya hadn't been able to afford one of the bigger, more expensive ones, and he doubts they'd be able to eat all of it with just the two of them.
He'd also frantically texted Ranpo to find out if Dazai is allergic to anything.
Chuuya
Should I get chocolate?
Chuuya
Does Dazai even like chocolate?
Chuuya
Oh my god what if he's allergic
Chuuya
Ranpo is Dazai allergic to anything?
Chuuya
Ranpo???
Ranpo
Oo chocolate!
Ranpo
No allergies. I'm sure he'll
appreciate whatever you
get him.
And so Chuuya had left the store with a one-layer chocolate cake and a single birthday candle. At home, he texts Dazai.
Slug 🐌
Hey, meet me at my dorm
Slug 🐌
Don't bring your books.
Mackerel 🐟
???
Mackerel 🐟
okay
Chuuya sighs in relief and sticks the cake in his mini-fridge so it doesn't get melty. It's getting hot now, and he doesn't want to risk getting melted chocolate everywhere. Also, he wants the cake to be a surprise.
Dazai shows up around ten minutes later in just slacks and a cream button-down. No sweater vest this time.
"Isn't it a bit hot for those clothes?" Chuuya asks, and Dazai frowns.
"I like them, though." He says.
Chuuya shrugs.
"Fair enough." He pulls on his shoes and starts to lace them up.
"Are we going somewhere?" Dazai asks, watching him curiously. Chuuya waits until he's standing to answer.
"The arcade." He replies. "I figured you needed a break from all the studying. You slept like a rock yesterday."
Dazai smiles softly. He does look better than before. The bags under his eyes aren't as dark, and he's put band-aids on the tips of his fingers so he won't bite his cuticles anymore.
"Alright then," He says, trailing behind Chuuya as they leave the room. "Lead the way."
Dazai is silent the whole way to the arcade, but it's not too worrying. He seems content, at least, to go there at all. His eyes are brighter than they have been for weeks, too, like he's happy to just spend time with Chuuya. That makes Chuuya's heart flutter.
"I'm gonna win you something this time," Chuuya says with determination, as they step through the arcade door. "I'm gonna win so many tickets that you can get any prize they have. What do you want?"
Dazai flutters his eyelashes dramatically.
"Will Chuuya give me another kiss if he wins?" He teases.
Chuuya rolls his eyes and stands up on his tiptoes to kiss Dazai's cheek. When he pulls back, Dazai stands there, looking stunned. His eyes are wide, and his hand reaches up to brush against the spot where Chuuya had kissed him, reminiscent of the first time they'd gone to the arcade, all those weeks ago. Then his face lights up.
"Chuuya!" He chimes. "You like me!"
Chuuya rolls his eyes again, but he can feel his face heating up. Dazai doesn't know just how true those words are.
"Shut up and tell me what you want." Chuuya grumbles, as they near the prize wall. "That way I know how many tickets to win."
Dazai's face softens into a small smile, and then he raises his head to look at the prizes hung up on the wall.
"I want that one," He says, pointing at a Kuromi plushie. "That way, we can both have Sanrio merch. We'll match."
Chuuya's stomach flips.
"Okay." He checks the price, and isn't too worried about it. Other than stupid scam claw machines, he's actually quite good at arcade games.
He spends the next hour winning ticket after ticket from several games, and by the time he finishes, he has enough tickets for the plushie, plus extra. He hands them over to the teenager at the desk and they smile at him.
"Which one?" They ask, and Dazai points at the Kuromi plushie again. Once it's in his hands, he squeezes it to his chest.
"Soft." He says.
"Come on," Chuuya tells him softly. "Let's go back to my dorm, I have a surprise for you."
Dazai raises his eyebrows, but follows Chuuya back quietly, squeezing the plushie the whole time.
"Close your eyes." Chuuya says, when they enter his dorm. He watches to make sure Dazai does, and then rushes to the fridge. "No peeking!"
He pulls the cake out and grabs the candle and the lighter he'd left out from his desk, sticking the candle into the cake. There's a clicking noise as he uses his thumb to light the lighter, and then places it next to the wick of the candle.
"Okay," Chuuya says, picking up the cake and holding it in front of him. "You can look now."
When Dazai's eyes open, they go wide with shock.
"Happy birthday, Osamu." Chuuya murmurs.
Then Dazai does something that Chuuya probably should have expected, but didn't. His face crumples, and he starts to cry. Quickly, he looks away so Chuuya can't see his face. Or maybe, he just can't look Chuuya in the eye.
"Chuuya," Dazai says, and then chokes on a sob. "I'm sorry."
"What?" Chuuya asks, bewildered. "What are you sorry for?"
But Dazai just shakes his head. He forces a smile onto his face, despite the tears still leaving his eyes, and leans forward to blow out the candle.
"Happy birthday to me." He whispers.
Two weeks later and finals are finally over. Chuuya walks over to Dazai's dorm and enters without much preamble to find Fyodor sitting on his mattress again.
"Oh," He says, and pulls out his phone when it dings.
Mackerel 🐟
Meet me outside the coffee shop?
I have something to show you :)
Chuuya sends a quick "k!" and is about to turn to leave when Fyodor speaks up.
"Chuuya, can we talk?" He asks. Chuuya turns back around.
"Sure." He says. "But I have to meet Dazai somewhere else soon. He changed the location. Can you make it quick?"
Fyodor nods.
"Yeah, of course." He replies. "I just wanted to thank you. For, you know, sticking around after all that. I'm glad Dazai finally told you."
Chuuya blinks.
"Told me?" He says, slowly. "Told me what?"
Fyodor looks at him confusedly.
"You know, that he was faking." He says. "That he didn't actually need you to tutor him."
Chuuya drops his textbooks.
"I'm sorry, what did you just say?"
A look of horror crosses Fyodor's face.
"I thought he told you." He says. "He didn't tell you?"
"No." Chuuya mutters, rage beginning to boil hot in his gut. "No, he didn't."
"Chuuya, don't freak out." Fyodor tries. "I'm sure he would have told you eventually. It's nothing personal, he just didn't know how to–"
"What?!" Chuuya snaps. "How to get into my pants? Is that what this was to him? All the gifts, the trip to Paris– he just wanted to sleep with me?!"
"No!" Fyodor exclaims, getting to his feet. "No, that's not it at all, I promise, he just–"
"I'm leaving." Chuuya says, his tone cold, picking up his books. "Don't fucking follow me."
"Chuuya–" Fyodor starts, but Chuuya is already out the door.
It's raining by the time he reaches the coffee shop. Dazai is standing outside, soaked to the bone, but his face lights up when he sees Chuuya. He's clutching a paper in his hand. Chuuya storms up to him angrily and slaps him across his face. Dazai's head snaps to the side from the force of it.
"Was it fun?" Chuuya demands. Dazai stares at him in confusion, his mouth agape. "Did you enjoy it, stringing me along like that?"
"What are you talking about?" Dazai asks. He looks genuinely confused, but Chuuya just knows he's faking. After all, he's good at that.
"Did you think I wouldn't find out?" Chuuya continues. Dazai's eyes widen in realization. "Contrary to what you seem to believe, I'm not stupid."
"Chuuya–"
"Or maybe I am, considering it took your roommate telling me for me to realize that our whole friendship was based on a lie."
Chuuya is shaking. He's never felt so furious in his life as he watches Dazai flounder for words.
"Do you even consider other people's feelings at all?" Chuuya spits. "Oh wait, of course you don't. You don't have them."
Regret hits him as soon as the words come out of his mouth. Dazai stiffens.
"What is that supposed to mean?" He asks. He doesn't sound angry or cold, just detached. Chuuya knows he's fucked up, but he can't stop himself. He's too angry.
"I wouldn't be surprised if you weren't human at all." Is what he says, and Dazai's face goes completely blank. Chuuya keeps going. "You're probably a robot. You couldn't possibly understand human emotions."
He can't help himself from weaponizing everything that Dazai has ever told him about himself. It's probably all a lie, anyway, a farce to make Chuuya look like a fool. He hates that it worked.
Dazai looks at him blankly.
"I could explain myself," He says, slowly. "But I don't think you'd believe me."
"Why should I?" Chuuya asks. His heart is pounding. "Everything that comes out of your mouth is a lie. All you do is manipulate everyone around you. And it's fun for you, isn't it? Making a fool out of everyone? Out of me?"
"It's not like that." Dazai tries, but Chuuya shakes his head.
"I don't ever want to hear from you again." He hisses. "Or see you, or be near you. If you try to come near me you'll end up with a broken nose, got it?"
Dazai doesn't respond. He looks exactly like Chuuya had described him; a machine. His face doesn't give away any emotions at all. Chuuya has had enough of looking at him. He turns and walks away.
Part of him wants to plead with Dazai to come after him, but it doesn't matter. Dazai doesn't call out his name, doesn't follow him. He just stands there, in the rain, with no umbrella, and no fucking feelings either.
Chuuya holds it together until he gets back to his dorm. After that, he breaks down. He sobs and cries like a child who's lost its mother. He cries himself to sleep.