Something like fickle, whimsical banter,
Or exchanged of words, though these never exist
If my body is set aflame, I know what I must protect.
—Avant
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July 2014
Dazai waited a few days before he asked for another kiss from Chuuya. He didn't really plan on it—he'd been hoping to get it all out of his system the last time, after all—but how was he supposed to ignore Chuuya when he was wearing eyeliner? Also, his shirt was just a little bit see-through, which was totally distracting.
"Chuuu-yaaa," Dazai called from his bed as Chuuya put on his shoes. "Don't I get a kiss goodbye?"
Chuuya rolled his eyes. "No."
"Pleeease?" Dazai wheedled.
"Are you using your second favor?" Chuuya asked.
"Nah," Dazai said dismissively. "But if you kiss me, I won't bother you for the rest of the night."
"I'm about to leave anyway, shitty Dazai!" Chuuya snapped.
Dazai tilted his head, calculating. "If you kiss me I'll make you dinner."
"We don't even have a kitchen!"
"Ah, that's right," Dazai said thoughtfully. "Well, you like cup noodles, right?"
Chuuya wrinkled his nose. "No thanks," he answered. "Unlike you, I have access to the athlete's dining hall, which actually has edible food."
"Ah, but cup noodles are so good when you're drunk!" Dazai replied. "You don't want to get a hangover, do you?"
Chuuya looked at him for a long moment. "You must be really desperate, huh?"
Dazai scowled. "I'm not. Just bored again. Besides, you're leaving me alone for the whole evening, so you owe me a little entertainment now."
"Why don't you go out with your friends?" Chuuya replied. "Unless they got sick of you, of course."
"They could never," Dazai lied.
Chuuya sighed. "Fine, I'll kiss you. But you'd better make me the best cup noodles I've ever tasted."
"If you earn it, I will," Dazai responded.
Chuuya came over to him, and Dazai hopped off his bed. "Maybe you should sit up here, since you're so short."
"Maybe you should shut the hell up," Chuuya shot back.
"Maybe you should—" the 'make me' went unsaid as Chuuya cut Dazai off with a kiss so harsh he nearly bit his own tongue. His mouth opened instinctively, head tilting slightly to get a better angle as Chuuya dragged a hand down his back.
By the time Chuuya pulled away, Dazai's lips felt bruised, and Chuuya looked—
"You look like a mess," Dazai said bluntly.
Chuuya scowled. "And whose fault is that?"
Dazai grinned. "Yours, for agreeing to kiss me!"
"You practically begged for it!"
"I bribed you, actually," Dazai corrected.
"That's even worse!" Chuuya snapped. "Now shut up before I punch you." He turned around and stalked to the door.
"If you wanted to touch me that bad you could have just said so," Dazai called after him. The door slammed harshly in response, which technically went against their contract, but Dazai decided he'd let it go just this once. It was a good kiss, after all.
(Chuuya got the promised cup noodles after he returned from the bar, smelling of cigarette smoke and cheap beer. He took one bite before spitting the chewed-up noodles back into the cup; Dazai had managed to burn them somehow, which really shouldn't have been possible.)
(At least he got Chuuya to choke him again, so it wasn't a complete waste of noodles.)
August 2014
On the 13th, Chuuya brought a guy back to their room. It wasn't like that, though—Dazai found that out pretty quick when Chuuya said, "This is my brother, Adam."
Dazai glanced between the two men. "He looks nothing like you," he pointed out, addressing Chuuya.
Chuuya sighed. "Paul and Arthur adopted us both," he explained.
That made sense. "I'm Dazai," Dazai said, looking at Adam.
"Adam," said Adam, "although I suppose you know that already." Then he pulled out a pack of gum and offered it to Dazai. "Want one?"
Dazai took one just to be polite—he wasn't particularly fond of gum—and unwrapped it before putting it in his mouth. It was mild and minty, and relatively soft, which was nice.
Adam took out a piece for himself. As Dazai watched, he chewed the gum fervently before swallowing it whole. Dazai stared at Adam in disbelief, but he didn't seem to notice.
"We're going to go get lunch," Chuuya said, seemingly unfazed by his brother's behavior. "He's just visiting for the day, so I'll probably be out for a while."
"Oh, thank god," Dazai sighed, earning a kick in the shin from Chuuya. "It was nice to meet you," he added to Adam.
"Likewise," said the strange man. Then he turned to Chuuya and asked, "Is this the same Dazai you refer to as 'the biggest asshole to ever grace this Earth', by the way?"
Chuuya sighed, looking beleaguered. "Obviously. Now c'mon, I don't want you to catch this guy's asshole-ness." He shot a pointed look at Dazai, who simply waved at Adam, smiling pleasantly.
"Have a good lunch!" He chirped.
Chuuya grumbled something incoherent as he dragged Adam from the room.
It probably shouldn't have felt so flattering to know that Chuuya's brother knew about him. He was clearly getting to Chuuya in some way if he was so willing to complain about Dazai to his own family. Dazai wondered how frequently Chuuya spoke of him.
Probably more than I speak of him, Dazai thought smugly. He didn't talk about Chuuya all that much, anyway.
He said as much to Oda the following night during their evening shift. Oda stared at him for a long moment before saying, "Do you really think he talks about you more than you talk about him?"
"Uh, yeah?" Dazai replied easily. "I mean, probably. Don't you agree?"
"You talk about him a lot," Oda hedged.
Dazai frowned. "What, you think I'm obsessed with him or something?"
Oda sighed. "I don't know. What do you think?"
"I think I talk about him a normal amount," Dazai argued. "He's a thorn in my side, of course I complain about him sometimes."
Oda gave him a mildly skeptical look and said nothing.
Am I obsessed with Chuuya? Dazai wondered on his way back to the dorm later. I hate his guts, but I think about him a lot. Then again, I only think about him because I hate him.
Right?
Dazai groaned aloud. Damn that slug, making him question his own thought processes! It simply wasn't fair that Chuuya took up so much space in his head. It wasn't like Dazai thought of him fondly; he only thought of him when he was thinking of ways to annoy him, or get his attention, or get him to kiss Dazai. As far as Dazai knew, none of that indicated obsession.
(Right?)
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On Friday evening, Oda called. Chuuya was out with his volleyball friends again, so Dazai was lazing about, blasting Can't Get You out of My Head and generally doing nothing else. He picked up the phone with a bright, "Odasaku! What can I do for you on this fine evening?"
" Would you like to come with me to a convention tomorrow?" Oda asked.
"What kind of convention?" Dazai asked.
" It's called Comiket," Oda replied. " I have never been, but I've heard most of the content there is self-published."
"Interesting," Dazai murmured. Then, "Pass."
"You've hardly left your room this summer," Oda said, voice vaguely accusing.
Dazai laughed weakly. "I go to therapy!"
"That's a start," Oda agreed.
Dazai frowned. "But?"
"But," Oda continued, "can you really say you're having fun?"
"Why must I have fun?" Dazai pointed out.
"I'll buy you lunch if you come along."
Dazai groaned. "Fiiiiiine. Since you want me to so badly. Let me guess," he added, "Ango couldn't make it?"
"I didn't ask," Oda replied. "I just wanted to hang out with you."
Dazai was satisfied with that answer. Oda and Ango spent enough time with just each other as it was; Dazai couldn't help but want to have each of them to himself occasionally.
"I work at 4, so we have to be back by then," Oda added.
"Sounds good," Dazai replied. "Text me when you want to meet." He hung up the phone, staring at the wall in front of him. He wondered how many people would be at the convention. Dazai didn't normally like crowds, but sometimes they could be fun.
Maybe Oda is right, Dazai thought. Maybe I need to get out more.
The next morning, Dazai got up around nine, which wasn't all that bad considering he'd fallen asleep close to three. Chuuya was awake but still in bed, scrolling on his phone.
Dazai dressed quickly and left without a word to grab a coffee. After returning to the room with an extremely sugary 16 ounce coffee, he texted Oda to let him know when he was ready. Oda replied a few minutes later and informed Dazai that he'd come by to pick him up around eleven. They were taking his car, since the venue was in Tokyo. Tokyo Big Sightwas a well known exhibition center, and the largest in Japan. Dazai had never been, but he knew Oda had at least a few times for various conventions.
When Oda showed up, he was dressed in a navy blue suit with a crisp white shirt underneath and a green tie adorning his neck. He also wore a pair of tiny, circular shades over his eyes, and instead of his usual backpack he carried an odd, black and red, diamond-patterned briefcase.
"O-da-sa-kuu~" Dazai sang as he climbed into Oda's car. "What's with the fit?"
"I'm cosplaying," Oda replied, straight-faced.
Dazai raised an eyebrow. "As who?"
"Leorio from Hunter x Hunter," Oda explained. "He is a good man."
"All-righty," Dazai chirped, still not entirely sure who Oda was talking about. "You ready to get going?"
Oda nodded and pulled away from the curb, and then they were on their way.
The convention center was a little over an hour away. It was just after noon when they pulled into the parking garage—parking was decidedly not free. The garage was already filling up, despite the fact that the convention had technically started at ten, and according to Oda, most of the bigger attractions were in the afternoon.
Inside of the center was even more crowded than the garage had been. Groups of children and teens in elaborate costumes—some adults, too—roamed the space, most of them blocking the path while they did photoshoots and generally made nuisances of themselves. Dazai shoved through the throng after Oda, bumping shoulders with anyone who refused to make way.
On their way over to the manga section, Dazai spotted a few tables that were selling CDs. "I'm gonna take a detour," he yelled to Oda.
Oda nodded and called back, "Text me if you can't find me afterwards."
Dazai shot him a thumbs up before beelining to the music area. He moved slowly from table to table, examining album covers and taking note of the genres listed for each artist.
One album in particular caught his eye. On it was an image of a white-haired boy perched on a windowsill with a city rising up in the distance and a warm, orange sun turning the whole scene golden. It was a pretty cover, Dazai thought.
The name of the album was Wonder Word, and the artist's name was Eve. Dazai glanced at the man behind the table, who looked unassuming, and perhaps a bit nervous. Dazai wondered if it was his first time here, too.
Before he could think it through, Dazai grabbed one of the albums. "How much for this?"
Eve looked relieved. He must have been pretty bored, since not a lot of people stopped by his table. "500 yen," he told Dazai.
Dazai's eyebrows involuntarily raised. "That's pretty cheap," he informed Eve.
Eve smiled bashfully. "Yeah, well, hopefully after this I can start raising my prices," he replied. He didn't sound bitter about being new to the scene; if anything he sounded expectant, as if he knew it was only a matter of time before he made it.
Dazai passed over the 500 yen. "Thanks," he told Eve. It was only after he'd turned to go that he realized he didn't have a way to play the CD, unless he used the CD played in Oda's car.
As soon as Dazai caught up with Oda, he asked, "Hey, Odasaku, can we listen to this on the way home?"
Oda glanced at the CD in Dazai's hand. "I don't see why not," he replied. "Did you meet the artist?"
"Yeah," Dazai said. "He seemed kinda shy. I don't think he's all that popular yet."
"I'm glad you chose to support him, then," Oda answered.
"Me too," Dazai agreed. Normally he found shyness to be an annoying trait, but Eve hadn't seemed at all insecure. If anything he was…cautious, or wary, but with steadfast confidence lurking beneath; and thatDazai could understand.
They wandered for a while longer before Oda's stomach announced it was ready for lunch. He hadn't bought anything yet, but he claimed he'd rather have curry right now than any of the merchandise at Comiket. "I can buy manga anytime," he told Dazai. "I mostly wanted to experience this atmosphere."
Dazai understood that, somewhat. There were a lot of crazy looks going on; Dazai had never enjoyed people-watching more.
They headed back to the parking garage before looking up nearby restaurants. Oda meticulously read the reviews for the curry at each restaurant before finally selecting one. Dazai didn't really care where they went, as long as they had something with crab in it.
The restaurant ended up having crab fried rice, which Dazai hadn't had in a long time. After ordering that and Oda's curry, Oda asked Dazai, "Did you have fun?"
Dazai considered the question before replying honestly, "It was interesting. I'm glad you brought me with you."
Oda gave him a small, rare smile. "I'm happy to hear that."
On the way back to Yokohama, Dazai and Oda listened to the entirety of Wonder Word. It was a good album overall, but one song in particular stood out to Dazai: Mata Ashita.
See you tomorrow.
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The following morning, Dazai went out and bought himself a CD player.
It was an old model, so it wasn't too expensive, and anyway Dazai would have been willing to pay much more for it. That's how desperate he was to hear that song again.
He'd been hoping to find Eve on Spotify, but it seemed the artist hadn't yet made an account. Dazai hoped he would at some point, but at least he had the CD to listen to in the meantime.
Chuuya was still in bed when Dazai returned to the room and set up the CD player. He put in the CD, skipped to Mata Ashita and put it on repeat (he hadn't thought there would be a way to do that on the CD player, but he was happily wrong about that).
"What are you doing," Chuuya said, eyes narrowed as the opening notes began to play.
"Listening to music," Dazai replied. "Duh."
Chuuya scowled. "Use your headphones or something!"
"Can't," Dazai said simply. "I'm not nearly pretentious enough to own a walkman." Ango was, but Dazai refused to borrow that piece of junk.
"You're the most pretentious man I know," Chuuya said disdainfully.
"You say that like you don't own a fedora," Dazai shot back.
"For the last time, it's a pork pie—"
"And thus, there's no tomorrow left, 'it's no longer here' I repeat, and follow my mistakes again and again," Dazai sang along as the lyrics began, ignoring Chuuya entirely. " And thus, the two of us, once more, 'one more time' we repeat, over and over again—"
Chuuya's groan was barely audible over the music and Dazai's voice. "Your voice is awful," Chuuya stated. "Shut the music off before I destroy your precious CD. Bet the song isn't on Spotify yet, and that's why you're using that old clunker. Am I right?" He glared at Dazai challengingly. "And that's probably the only copy of that CD you got, yeah?"
Dazai really needed to stop forgetting Chuuya was smart. He glared at Chuuya as he shut the music off. "Fine," he grumbled. "You got me."
Chuuya rolled his eyes, and then he said the last thing Dazai expected to hear. "You know, for such a shitty guy, you've got decent taste in music."
Dazai stared at Chuuya. "Wha— huh?"
"Just accept the compliment, Jesus," Chuuya mumbled, looking embarrassed. "Anyway, this doesn't mean I like you. I'm just saying your music isn't the worst."
Dazai allowed himself a full second to freak out before he forcibly composed himself. "Aw, Chuuya!" He gushed. "I didn't realize you thought I was cool!"
"I do not," Chuuya argued. "And anyway, your taste in everything else is shitty, so don't get a big head."
Does that include my taste in men? Dazai wanted to ask, but didn't.
He left the music off for the time being, but the second Chuuya left for volleyball practice, he put the song back on and listened to it on repeat for hours. It really wasn't his usual type of music, at least not really, but something about the simultaneously upbeat-and-melancholy tune paired with bittersweet lyrics called out to him in a way he couldn't ignore.
Even if you say I'm not nice at all, even if you say I suck at singing and such, aren't those just insults? I hate it, hate it, hate it, hate it, hate it, hate it, hate it—
Hey.
▝■▙▚▛■▜▞▟■▘
A few days before school started again, Kunikida informed Dazai and Chuuya that a single room had opened up in another dorm. Dazai and Chuuya both refused to be the one to move rooms, so in the end neither of them did. Dazai felt something like relief that nothing would change. It was just because he hated change, that was all. It certainly wasn't because he wanted Chuuya to be his roommate.
Dazai could live with Chuuya, talk to Chuuya, kiss Chuuya—none of it mattered, because they hated each other. That was one thing he knew he could count on not to change.
▝■▙▚▛■▜▞▟■▘
Dazai, Ranpo and Yosano were hanging out at a bar a few blocks away from Bar Lupin on Saturday evening when they ran into Oda and Ango.
"Odasaku, Ango!" Dazai called delightedly. "Over here!"
Oda's face was impassive as usual, while Ango's was slightly pinched.
"Maybe we should let them be," Yosano muttered to Dazai.
"Yeah, give them a night off from your personality," Ranpo told Dazai, but Dazai was already on his way over.
"Hello, Dazai," Ango said when Dazai took the seat between the two of them. His face was resigned.
"Sorry for intruding," Yosano apologized to Oda.
"It's no trouble," Oda replied. "We didn't realize you would be here, too."
Dazai frowned, confused. "Were you avoiding us?"
"We're having a roommate meeting," Ango explained. "Just talking about house stuff." His eye twitched, as if he'd much rather Dazai leave him alone.
Well, Dazai couldn't have that. "Why don't you take a break from the shop talk and join us?"
"I—" Ango started, but Yosano cut him off.
"Leave them alone, Dazai," she said. "Let them have their date in peace."
Ango's eyes widened and he shook his head aggressively. "It's not—"
See, Dazai he could be oblivious at times, but he wasn't stupid. He had known Oda and Ango were close, but he'd never questioned their friendship. Still, in retrospect, Dazai thought it probably should have been obvious.
"Oh my god," he mumbled, processing. "You're dating."
"I think you broke him," Ranpo told Yosano.
"I didn't mean to," Yosano said helplessly. "I thought he was smart enough to figure it out."
Ranpo snickered. "Next he'll tell us that he didn't know Yosano is a lesbian, or that I'm dating Mushi and Poe."
Dazai stilled, and Ranpo's eyes widened. "Damn, Dazai, I thought you were supposed to be smart."
Dazai sputtered. "You know I don't notice romantic stuff!"
Yosano eyed Dazai knowingly. "Clearly."
"So you're all gay," Dazai said slowly.
" We're all gay," Ranpo corrected. "You can't seriously think you're still straight." When Dazai said nothing, Ranpo sighed. "Do us all a favor," he suggested. "Do some introspection, maybe take an ' am I gay' quiz or two. If you still think you're straight after that, then who knows, maybe you are?" Ranpo's face made it clear he didn't think so.
"Uh," Dazai said ineloquently. "Okay?"
"Sorry for crashing your date," Yosano apologized. "We'll leave you alone now."
"It's all right," Ango replied. "We should have just told you guys we'd be here. And," he added, looking at Dazai, "I'm sorry we didn't tell you about our relationship. To be honest, I think we were both planning on saying something once you had a bit less on your plate." Ango chuckled. "I guess that's never the case, though."
Dazai smiled and assured him, "It's okay, I get it. And I'm happy for you." It wasn't just that, even. It might sound selfish, but Dazai was happy for himself, because he'd wondered before why Oda and Ango sometimes hung out without him. He'd much rather them date than simply not want to be around him.
Yosano and Ranpo dragged Dazai to a few more bars before the three of them called it a night. Dazai and Chuuya's room was dark by the time Dazai made it back to the dorm, and Chuuya clearly wasn't waking up anytime soon, so Dazai didn't bother going to the bathroom to change into his compression gear.
Once he'd brushed his teeth and climbed into bed, he got on his phone and typed three words into the search box.
Am I gay?
The sheer amount of results nearly overwhelmed Dazai. He scrolled for a bit until he found a quiz that looked promising. There were 30 questions total, which meant it would likely be more accurate.
Have you ever found yourself unconsciously staring at another man?
Does spacing out count? Dazai wondered. Better play it safe, I suppose. He selected 'yes' and moved onto the next question.
Have you ever wanted to kiss a man?
Dazai grimaced and reluctantly selected 'yes' again.
Most of the questions were relatively innocuous, asking about everything from going on dates with another man to holding another man's hand. There were only a few questions about sex, which Dazai answered honestly. It was true that he had never enjoyed having sex with men in the past, after all. Whether or not he'd have sex with Chuuya wasn't relevant.
(He'd rather not think about that, anyway.)
Dazai submitted his questions and waited for the page to load. When it finally did, there was a rainbow backdrop with the words, ' You Are Gay!' written in front of it in pink cursive. Well, that was clearly not an accurate quiz, he thought indignantly. He'd just have to try another.
26 quizzes later, Dazai was beginning to wonder. All of the results he got told him he was gay, bisexual or occasionally demisexual, which was a term Dazai had never heard before. Being on the asexual spectrum was something Dazai hadn't considered, but out of all the results, he thought that one actually made the most sense.
In terms of him being gay or bi, Dazai just wasn't sure. On the one hand, he'd never been attracted to women in the past, but on the other, he didn't feel particularly attracted to men, either, with one notable exception.
Chuuya was the wrench in Dazai's gears. He threw everything off, because if Dazai was demisexual— if,because he still wasn't sure—then most likely, he was only capable of sexual attraction when it was accompanied by romantic feelings, or at least an immense amount of trust.
It was true that Dazai typically didn't catch on to even the most obvious signs of romantic attraction. That being said, he thought he'd know if he had feelings for Chuuya. He wasn't that dense.
▝■▙▚▛■▜▞▟■▘
The day before school started back up, Dazai had an appointment with Fukuzawa.
He didn't feel great about how therapy was going. So far he'd refused to tell Fukuzawa any details about his trauma, including the nature of it, which meant there was only so much Fukuzawa could do.
Dazai had tried to remember things, he really had. He'd tried writing, too. The problem was, most of those experiences happened when he was drunk. He hardly remembered any of it, except sometimes in flashes when he least wanted to think about it.
His nightmares had grown more sinister lately. Dazai thought it probably had something to do with him trying to remember things he didn't want to remember.
"It's like," Dazai tried to explain to Fukuzawa today, "it's like, you know when you look at a really bright light and it makes a blind spot in your vision? Wait, no, that's a bad analogy," he muttered to himself. "It's more like…I guess when you're playing beer pong, and you psych yourself out and don't make the shot, but then when you're not even thinking about it, it just comes to you? Yeah, like that."
Fukuzawa looked intrigued. "You have no control over what you remember," he stated.
"Exactly. And don't get me wrong, I remember everything," Dazai added, frustrated. "It's just that I can't recall it when I'm trying to."
"Dazai-kun, do you keep a notebook on you?" Fukuzawa asked patiently.
"Sometimes," Dazai replied. "Why?"
"I suggest you try writing down the details of your experiences when they come to you," Fukuzawa explained. "Instead of trying to bring them up consciously, let them slowly drift to the surface and take note of them when they do."
Dazai hummed. "I can try to do that."
"And Dazai-kun," Fukuzawa continued, voice gentle. "You know I won't force you to tell me anything, but I should warn you of this: once these memories start coming up, refusing to talk about them can be incredibly harmful. You don't need to talk to me," he added. "But consider talking to someone."
"I will," Dazai promised numbly. He wasn't ready he wasn't ready he wasn't ready—
"Are you at all anxious about school starting back up tomorrow?" Fukuzawa asked, thankfully breaking through Dazai's spiraling thoughts.
Dazai hummed, pulling himself together. "Not really. I mean, I don't like the work all that much, but it's not that hard, either."
They spent the remainder of the session talking about school, and Dazai only spent five minutes talking about Chuuya (probably, it wasn't like he counted) . After agreeing to meet again in two weeks, Dazai headed back to the dorm. He couldn't stop thinking about Fukuzawa's words. He wasn't ready to tell anyone the specifics of what happened, but maybe—
Maybe it was worth a try.
▝■▙▚▛■▜▞▟■▘
Dazai was halfway to the psychology lecture hall when he realized he'd forgotten to take his meds that morning.
He'd only missed a few days over the summer, and he'd come to learn that the difference was not noticeable until he drank coffee. It was like the caffeine had a different effect on him when he didn't take the lamictal—it made him more jittery, and slightly nauseous—which was weird, but helpful in tipping him off, he supposed. Of course, by the time he'd had some of the coffee he'd gotten on his way to class, it was too late to go back to the dorm.
It didn't help that he was running on just four hours of sleep, having worked the closing shift at Bar Lupin, and, just to top off his morning, they were starting out the term with a lecture on sexual assault.
"I know it's a heavy subject," Kouyou was saying. "I'm assuming—or hoping, rather—that you all at least know the basics of this matter, but in case you don't, today we'll be covering consent, and the laws around consent in various countries. Now, Japan's laws of consent are greatly outdated, which means that—yes, Dazai?"
Dazai opened and shut his mouth. He hadn't even noticed himself stand. "I have an appointment," he blurted, shouldering his backpack. It was a good thing he hadn't unpacked anything yet. He put on a wide, fake smile and added, "Apologies for disrupting the lecture, Kouyou-san! I'm sure Chuuya would be happy to catch me up on anything I miss, so I'll see you Wednesday!"
"Oi, I'm not going to—"
"Byeee," Dazai sang as he all but sprinted out the door. He felt Kouyou's eyes on him as he left, but thankfully she didn't try to stop him.
He speedwalked back to the dorm and threw himself straight into bed, laughing hysterically. How ridiculous is that? He thought bitterly. How is it that such a simple subject matter could affect me so?Nothing Dazai had gone through had been horrible enough for him to react in such a way. It made no sense, that he felt it so strongly, when normally he felt nothing at all. What was it? He wondered. Was I scared that the class would just know somehow, even though there's no way they could? Was I scared that Chuuya would know?
Dazai brushed the thought aside. Chuuya was too thick to put those pieces together. If anyone in the class had caught on, it would've been Jouno. Jouno, who likely took note of Dazai's odd reaction and abrupt retreat. Yeah, he could probably tell.
After all, it really didn't take a lot of brains to figure out Dazai had a few screws loose. That, paired with the awkwardness of his exit, would be enough for someone as observant as Jouno to know. Dazai knew he wouldn't voice any suspicions he harbored, but it bothered him to think that Jouno knew something about Dazai that Dazai himself didn't even know (or remember, anyway).
At the end of the day, it didn't really matter if people realized how fucked up Dazai was. What mattered was that Dazai didn't feel fucked up.
He wasn't worthy of receiving pity he hadn't even earned.
▝■▙▚▛■▜▞▟■▘
Around noon, Chuuya returned to their room. He threw his backpack onto his desk before turning to look at Dazai, eyebrows raised expectantly. "So?" He asked, sounding annoyed. "What the hell was that about?"
"Appointment," Dazai lied easily.
"You can't lie to me that easily," Chuuya said, surprising Dazai once again.
Dazai deflected by rolling his eyes. "And you can't get the truth out of me so easily."
Chuuya made a face. "Whatever. You didn't miss much, anyway. Just read chapter 27 of our textbook, that should catch you up."
Dazai gasped theatrically. "Is Chuuya being helpful?"
Chuuya's ears turned red. "Only because you helped me with chem and I don't want to owe you shit," he snapped.
"Whatever you say, Chuuu-yaa~" Dazai sang just to piss Chuuya off further. "You know, if you really want to pay me back, you could give me a kiss!"
Chuuya sighed. "Read the chapter and I'll consider it."
Dazai dutifully forced himself to get through the first chapter on the section of their textbook that covered sexual assault and rape. He skimmed it, mostly. The only thing that really stood out to him was the part about the nightmares and flashbacks caused by such experiences. There was no information on how to get rid of those symptoms, unfortunately. They seemed to be a permanent fixture at this point.
Consider talking to someone.
It was the last thing Dazai wanted to do. It was also, at this point, potentially his only option. Of course, he was hesitant to trauma dump on his friends, which left him just Fukuzawa as an option. Dazai certainly trusted the man, but he still didn't knowhim all that well. Still…
I'll tell him next session, Dazai promised himself. Or at least I'll try.
▝■▙▚▛■▜▞▟■▘
Dazai woke up sometime in the early hours of the morning, panting and shivering at the same time. He couldn't recall the details of his dream, only that someone had been on top of him, pressing him into the mattress—
Dazai covered his mouth and ran to the bathroom before emptying the contents of his stomach into the toilet. Thankfully, the bathroom was empty at this hour, so no one witnessed his moment of weakness.
Then the door creaked open, and Dazai cursed inwardly. Footsteps approached his stall as Dazai threw up again; almost nothing came up, thanks to the fact that he hadn't eaten much at all yesterday.
"Dazai?" Chuuya's voice was uncertain, as if he wasn't sure he should be here.
"Go away," Dazai said hoarsely.
Chuuya's feet stopped outside his stall. "Are you sick?"
"No," Dazai said honestly.
"Nightmare?" Chuuya asked knowingly. Dazai didn't say anything for a long moment, and Chuuya sighed. "Idiot. Let me in."
Dazai frowned. "No. Go away."
Chuuya didn't reply, and a moment later his footsteps retreated. Dazai laid his head against the toilet seat as the door closed behind Chuuya. He hadn't expected Chuuya to care enough to follow him, or even to wake up in the first place.
He certainly didn't expect Chuuya to return, but a couple of minutes later, he did. He wordlessly passed Dazai a disposable water bottle under the door—he must have gotten it from the vending machine downstairs—before seating himself on the floor just outside the stall. Dazai silently cracked open the water bottle and drank about half of it before pausing to breathe. Chuuya still didn't speak, and neither did he.
Chuuya stayed with him until he was sure his stomach had settled before walking him back to their room. Despite having helped Dazai, he didn't mention Dazai owing him anything, which was weird, but Dazai wasn't about to complain.
Chuuya was a better person than him, after all
We spat out a bunch of careless words.
And cried at all those memories of old.
How about we make today the last time?
—Okimimesumama
▝■▙▚▛■▜▞▟■▘
September 2014
Around the start of their second week back at school, Dazai regressed.
It technically started on Sunday, but Dazai wasn't really paying attention enough to notice. He felt weird, even though he'd been taking his meds consistently since the previous week. It didn't help that Chuuya was away at a week-long training camp and wouldn't be back until Saturday, so Dazai was all alone in his room.
He missed class Monday and blamed Chuuya's absence (in reality he'd forgotten to set his alarm, but then again, usually when that happened Chuuya's alarm woke him, so in a way it was his fault). On Tuesday he skipped anatomy intentionally, even though he was awake by seven AM. He'd slept terribly, but couldn't recall what he'd dreamed.
He intended to make it to lit in the afternoon, but couldn't be bothered to get out of bed. After a while he realized he'd be entirely useless at work, and texted Oda and Ango to see if either of them could cover his closing shift. He knew it was a lot to ask, since both of them worked the opening shift tonight, but he figured Natsume could take over if either of them got too tired. Sure enough, Oda replied before too long saying he could take a few hours and Natsume would cover the rest.
Dazai sagged into his mattress, relieved. The most he could hope to accomplish today was feeding himself, and even that alone seemed like a feat. He managed to choke down a can of crab and an orange before he fell asleep again, close to 5 in the evening.
On Wednesday, Dazai forced himself to return to class. In psych they were finishing up the final lecture on sexual assault—this one mostly focused on the repercussions, including PTSD and C-PSTD. It was familiar, but not because he'd done the required reading. He'd forgotten about that entirely; what he knew, he knew from his own research.
Because he had done research—on the issues with the age of consent in their country and the definition of rape and sexual assault, along with the many, many statistics, ones that Dazai apparently belonged to.
Dazai knew that being a statistic for something was unavoidable. Roughly 0.6% of the world's population was bipolar. One in three adults worldwide had insomnia. Dazai fit into both of those categories, too.
Still.
After he got out of class, Dazai realized he'd accidentally missed his therapy session the previous day. He called Fukuzawa to reschedule, and they agreed to meet on Friday at 1 PM. It wouldn't leave Dazai much time to get to philosophy afterwards, but he knew that this was something he needed to prioritize right now, even if it meant he'd be a few minutes late to class.
Since he had nothing else on his schedule for the rest of the day, Dazai returned to the dorm and dozed for a while before finally checking his phone. He had a few missed texts from Yosano:
' You good?'
'Oda told me you're not'
'Let's meet up when you're feeling better'
And finally, ' nvm I'm coming to your dorm.'
The last one was sent just ten minutes ago, so Dazai assumed she'd be here any minute now. Sure enough, there was a knock at his door about three minutes later. "It's open," Dazai called, hoping he wasn't lying (he honestly couldn't remember).
The door creaked open, and Yosano peeked in. "You'd better be decent," she warned.
"Ah, but Yosano-sensei!" Dazai called weakly. "You should treasure every inch of my skin you can set your eyes on!"
Yosano made a face. "Gross." Then her eyes drifted to Chuuya's bed. "Where's your roommate? He missed class yesterday, too." She eyed Dazai suspiciously and added, "Did you cut class together?"
"No way," Dazai denied vehemently. "He's at a dumb volleyball camp."
"That's a dark expression," Yosano said, gesturing at Dazai's face. "Could it be that you miss him?"
Dazai schooled his features, but the damage was done. "Definitely not," he replied. "This has nothing to do with him."
"Whatever you say," Yosano said, rolling her eyes. "Have you scheduled an appointment with Fukuzawa?"
"I'm seeing him Friday," Dazai responded.
"Good," Yosano said approvingly. "By the way, Tachihara told me to tell you he's having a party on Saturday. He invited both of us, and told us we can bring whoever, since it's going to be a 'real rager'. In his words."
"He must have an apartment, then," Dazai said with some jealousy.
"Yep," Yosano replied. "Apparently he's got quite a few housemates. He lives with both of the Akutagawas and some girl named Higuchi."
Dazai's jealousy disappeared as he made a face at the name 'Akutagawa'. "At least Gin-chan is cool."
Yosano eyed him. "Will you ever make an effort to get along with her brother?"
Dazai shrugged. "Maybe." Then he changed the subject. "How's work?"
Yosano sighed. "We lost someone yesterday. It was shitty, even though we knew we had little to no chance of saving her."
"Yikes," Dazai murmured. "That sucks." He was tempted to comment something along the lines of 'wish that were me', but even he knew that would be insensitive.
"Yeah," Yosano replied. "Have you eaten yet, by the way?"
"Uh." Dazai wondered if he should lie. "Not really…"
"So no," Yosano confirmed. "I thought so. C'mon, we're getting ramen."
"Aw, are you treating me?" Dazai simpered.
"As long as you don't piss me off," Yosano shot back.
"Good enough for me!"
They went to a place just off campus that was popular with students at their school. It wasn't too busy at the moment, since it was that weird period of time that dwelled between lunch and dinner. Yosano ordered for them both, which Dazai was grateful for. He was too out of it still to make decisions right now, and she knew what he liked anyway.
"So," Yosano started once the waitress had left. "Do you know what set this one off?"
"Nothing in particular, I think," Dazai said truthfully.
Yosano hummed. "Could it be the stress of being back in school?"
Dazai shrugged and sipped his water. "Maybe. Hard to say."
"You're still taking the meds, right?" Yosano checked.
Dazai gave her his best offended expression. "Of course I am! Who do you take me for?"
"A liar," Yosano stated. "But I can tell you're being honest about this."
"I would never lie to you, Yosano-sensei," Dazai lied.
Yosano sighed. "Whatever you say. By the way," she added, "you should probably read chapters 37-41 of your anatomy textbook by next week if you want to stay caught up."
Dazai groaned. "Why is Mori-san such a hardass?"
"I think he just likes to see his students suffer," Yosano theorized. "Back when I took his class, he actually told us he enjoys making us squirm. I'm still not sure whether he was joking."
"I wouldn't be surprised if he wasn't," Dazai replied, rolling his eyes. "Anyway, what's up with him and Professor Fitzgerald?"
Yosano looked vaguely nauseous. "I don't really want to know."
"Well, I think they're sleeping together," Dazai declared, loudly enough that the couple at the table next to theirs glanced over. Dazai lowered his voice and added, "Their eye contact is too intense to be explained by anything else."
"Unfortunately, I think I agree with you," Yosano said reluctantly.
They talked shit about Mori until their food came and ate in comfortable silence. Dazai had always enjoyed the fact that he didn't feel the need to talk much around Yosano. She didn't mind if he was quiet, and was one of the only people Dazai trusted with his silence.
Since the hospital was a short ways past Dazai's dorm, Yosano walked back with him. "Please try to eat something else today," she requested. "And text me if you need anything."
"Yes, mom," Dazai replied, and Yosano flipped him off before turning to go.
Dazai returned to his silent room. Chuuya's side was cleaner than it had been in ages—he'd tidied up before leaving for camp—but somehow Dazai expected there to be a thin layer of dust across all of his things. He swiped a finger over Chuuya's desk just to check, but his finger came away clean.
Chuuya had been gone for almost four days now. The room was too quiet. Even blaring Mata Ashita on his CD player did nothing to lessen the crushing weight of emptiness that bore down on Dazai's shoulders. His room—his and Chuuya's room—had become a vacuum.
Dazai wasn't lonely. He liked being alone. He hadn't been lying when he'd told Ranpo and Yosano that the voices in his head kept him company; his internal monologue was so detailed and constant that it filled his ears even when he wanted nothing more than to turn it off.
Except, Dazai thought miserably, for when I'm with Chuuya. That was the problem, really; it wasn't that the voices fully went away, but rather that Chuuya, for all his drawbacks, was marvelously loud. Dazai hated it sometimes, but it was a very effective way to cancel out the noise in Dazai's head.
It really was fortunate that Dazai didn't care about him enough to thank him for it.
▝■▙▚▛■▜▞▟■▘
On Friday, Dazai went straight from History of War to Fukuzawa's office.
He made it just a few minutes before his appointment was supposed to begin, and waited in the hallway until 1 before knocking on Fukuzawa's door. He could hear Fukuzawa approaching on the other side, and the door swung open a moment later. "Hello, Dazai-kun," Fukuzawa greeted.
"Fukuzawa-san," Dazai replied as he strolled into the room and took his usual seat. "How are you on this lovely day?"
Fukuzawa studied his face, frowning. "I am well. It appears you are not, though."
Dazai laughed weakly. "Is it that obvious?"
"To me," Fukuzawa replied. "Did something happen?"
Dazai shrugged. "Just the usual, run-of-the-mill depressive episode. Nothing special."
Fukuzawa tilted his head and asked, "Do you think it has anything to do with your unresolved trauma?"
"Maybe, maybe not," Dazai evaded. "Who can say?"
"Have you spoken to anyone about it yet?" Fukuzawa prodded.
"Noooo," Dazai hedged. "I mean, apart from you."
"It doesn't count if you don't tell me what happened," Fukuzawa pointed out.
"Must I?" Dazai sighed.
"Like I said before, you don't have to do anything. However," Fukuzawa added, "I believe you will greatly benefit from opening up. I know it's a lot, however—"
Dazai cut him off with a bitter laugh. "A lot? Nah," he said dismissively. "I've managed for this long, haven't I? It can't be that much, if I'm still living."
"Are you, though?" Fukuzawa pressed.
"Living?" Dazai thought of Oda asking, ' Can you really say you're having fun?' "I guess?"
"You don't sound sure."
Dazai huffed in frustration. "I don't know what to tell you. I can't move forward, but I can't—I can't go back."
"You don't want to remember?" Fukuzawa guessed.
Dazai shook his head. "No. I mean, yeah, but mostly I can't remember."
Fukuzawa paused. "Does the trauma have to do with addiction?"
Dazai laughed. "Not really. I mean, I was probably a functioning alcoholic for a minute there in high school, but apart from that, no. Are we playing twenty questions again?" He asked, a little too sharply to come across as joking.
"If you'd like," Fukuzawa replied. "Is your trauma larger than a bread box?"
Dazai's laugh this time was genuine. "I didn't know you could make jokes, Fukuzawa-san!" He said delightedly. "Also, yes, it is."
"I am known to jest from time to time," Fukuzawa said, straight-faced. "May I continue asking?"
Dazai found himself smiling involuntarily. "You may."
Fukuzawa nodded and asked, "Is your trauma related to more than one person or event?"
Dazai hesitated before saying, "Yes."
Fukuzawa looked contemplative. "Does it have to do with your boundaries being crossed?"
"Yeah," Dazai replied. "You could say that."
"Dazai," Fukuzawa said gently, "is it sexual trauma?"
Dazai couldn't meet Fukuzawa's steady gaze, sure that he'd find hints of sympathy reflected in his eyes. "Getting right to the point, huh?" He commented.
"Dazai."
"Yeah," Dazai responded, looking at his hands, which were clenched together in his lap.
"Look at me," Fukuzawa commanded. Dazai heard no sign of pity in his voice, so he looked up. "Before you say anything else," he told Dazai, "I want you to know that I will never push you to talk about anything. When I encourage you to speak, it is because I think it's a necessary step in your healing process, but it is always your choice. Do you understand?"
Dazai nodded. "I understand. Thank you." He paused before adding, "I don't really know—" what happened to me, if it really counts as— "I don't know if I'm…" he trailed off, frowning. "I don't know."
"That's okay," Fukuzawa said after a pause. "You don't have to know."
But I do, Dazai wanted to say. I have to know everything, control everything, control myself—
"You don't have to know," Fukuzawa repeated.
Dazai still wasn't entirely convinced, but he gave Fukuzawa a bright smile nonetheless. "If you say so, Fukuzawa-sensei!"
Fukuzawa gave him a long look before saying, "If this is something you would like to address in therapy, I would recommend trying exposure therapy specifically."
"What's that?" Dazai asked, tilting his head.
"Essentially, recalling and speaking about specific memories and details in order to further process them," Fukuzawa replied. "However, it does require the patient to be up front about what happened. If you aren't ready for that—"
"I am," Dazai lied.
"Okay," Fukuzawa replied. "If you're certain. We can begin next session, if you'd like. That way you have some time to prepare. I'd recommend writing down your thoughts to get them in order, if you think that would help you. I know I've mentioned writing before—"
"Oh, yeah, I kinda forgot about that," Dazai said. He mostly wasn't lying, though it was true that he intentionally put it out of his mind at times.
"That's all right," Fukuzawa replied. "It's not too late to start trying."
Dazai nodded. "I just write what I can remember?"
"As much as possible, yes," Fukuzawa confirmed. "Of course, I have no way of knowing how much you actually recall, and I'll never encourage you to give me any details you aren't fully comfortable sharing. Does that sound okay?"
"Yeah," Dazai responded.
"Good," said Fukuzawa. "For now, if there is anything else you would like to speak about, feel free. If you have the time, that is."
"I'd like that!" Dazai proclaimed. "If you don't mind me complaining some more about Chuuya, anyway."
Fukuzawa adopted a long-suffering expression, but regardless told Dazai, "Of course I'll listen."
Dazai smiled, for real this time, and ranted about Chuuya for the remainder of the session. It was all too easy to complain about his roommate, after all, and of course there was the added bonus of the conversation forcing all of Dazai's worst thoughts from his mind.
He'd have to deal with them soon enough, of course, but that didn't mean he had to start today.
▝■▙▚▛■▜▞▟■▘
Of course, starting his writing for exposure therapy was no easier the following day. Tachihara's party was that evening, so Dazai decided to start his work on Sunday. He never couldn't focus if he had plans later, anyway.
Besides, his room was still achingly empty, at least for now. Dazai had forgotten to ask Chuuya when he'd be returning that day, though he could always text Chuuya, Dazai supposed. Despite the fact that he'd had Chuuya's number since the start of the year—for emergencies only, of course—Dazai had yet to text him, or even name his contact. Dazai had no intention of naming it, or texting Chuuya. It wasn't like he cared when Chuuya would be back, anyway.
It was almost five already. Dazai's fingers unconsciously twitched towards his phone, and Dazai yanked his hand back as if he'd been burned. No, he told himself sternly. I don't need to know when Chuuya will be back. Curiosity will not kill me.
He managed not to text Chuuya for the next 20 minutes. Just as he was close to breaking, he heard Chuuya on the other side of their door. A key jangled in the lock, and there was a faint click before the door swung open, revealing a disheveled, exhausted-looking Chuuya. He had a backpack slung over one shoulder and a small duffel over the other.
Dazai's lips curved up against his will. "Welcome home, Chuuuu-yaaa~" he drawled as obnoxiously as possible. "I must say, the silence you left behind was heavenly!"
Chuuya stalked in and dumped his bags on the floor before going back to close the door. "Yeah, well, I didn't miss you either."
"Did you have fun playing with your little balls?" Dazai chirped.
"Oh my god . Do not say it like that," Chuuya groaned.
"Fine. Did you have fun getting sweaty and smelly with a bunch of buff men?" Dazai fired back.
"That's almost worse," Chuuya snapped. "Can't you say something normal for once in your goddamn life?"
Dazai tilted his head. "I don't know what you mean!" He said cheerfully.
Chuuya glared at him. "You're the fuckin' worst," he muttered before going to his bed and collapsing face-down. His shoes were still on his feet, which bothered Dazai immensely, enough that he found himself unthinkingly crossing the room. He yanked the shoes off, drawing an "Oi, asshole, what're you doing to my feet?!" from Chuuya.
"If you shut up, I'll take the rest of your clothes off, too," Dazai offered. At Chuuya's withering glare, he amended, "I didn't mean it like that. Not today, anyway." He cringed internally at the admittance, but it was too late for him to censor himself.
Chuuya was remarkably unfazed for someone who claimed to be straight. "What exactly did you mean, then?" He asked, eyes narrowed.
Dazai rolled his eyes. "I'm offering to help, but apparently your stupid dog brain can't comprehend kindness."
"You're not kind, at least not unless you want something," Chuuya said suspiciously. "So what do you want?"
Dazai smiled glibly. "I suppose I'd take a thank you kiss, if you're offering."
"I don't get you at all," Chuuya muttered. "Fine. Take my clothes off."
"Oooh, how scandalous, Chuuya!" Dazai gasped, feigning shock. "I had no idea you were so forward—"
"Do you want to help or not," Chuuya snapped.
"Of course I'll help," Dazai said imperiously. "You're going to have to stand up, though."
Chuuya actually smirked at that. "You can't handle taking my clothes off while I'm lying down? Weak."
Dazai tried not to let that provoke him. He failed. "Fine," he shot back. "Lie there like the useless lump that you are. You're never beating the slug allegations, you know."
Chuuya wordlessly lifted his hand and flipped Dazai off as he approached. Without warning, he yanked Chuuya's thin t-shirt over his face, where it caught on his chin and arms. "See, Chuuya?" Dazai said pointedly. "This is what happens when you refuse to stand up."
Chuuya sat up abruptly, allowing Dazai to pull the t-shirt down his arms and off of him entirely. "Fuck you."
"Not today!" Dazai repeated, once again drawing nothing but an eye roll from Chuuya.
"Get my sleep shirt," he commanded in response, gesturing at the dresser beneath the bed. "Top drawer."
Dazai knew where the sleep shirt was, thanks to the time he'd stolen Chuuya's socks from the same drawer. "I still can't believe you keep a shirt in your underwear drawer," he taunted.
"It's a sleep shirt," Chuuya bit back.
"If you say so!"
Dazai fetched the shirt and pulled it roughly over Chuuya's head and arms before sliding it down his torso. Once he was done, he shoved at Chuuya to make him roll onto his back before going for the button on his pants. A quick glance at Chuuya's face showed his expression was impassive, though there was a slight strain in his jaw as Dazai unzipped his pants and yanked them down to his thighs. His lack of reaction was more disappointing than it should have been.
Once Dazai had replaced Chuuya's unnecessarily tight jeans with a pair of sleep shorts—also kept in his underwear drawer, of course—Chuuya rolled onto his side. He was facing Dazai, but he kept his eyes closed when he said, "Thanks, asshole."
Dazai scoffed. "Such a way to thank me! And you say I'm not kind?"
"I'm kind," Chuuya insisted. "I'm just not nice."
"While I'm nice, but not kind?" Dazai guessed.
"Exactly."
"Such an astute observation," Dazai observed. "I think the word you're looking to describe me as is 'fake'."
"You said it, not me," Chuuya said, finally opening his eyes.
It would be so easy to lean down and kiss him right now, thought Dazai accidentally.
"—maybe superficial would be a better word for—hey, you're not even listening!" Chuuya complained, pointing at Dazai, who had unconsciously begun leaning down.
Dazai quickly schooled his features and said, impatiently, "Chuuya, if I listened to every word you spouted, I'd have a perpetual migraine." Chuuya gave him an annoyed look, and he added, "Besides, I can think of a much better use for that mouth." He leaned down a few inches more and asked, "Now will you kiss me, Chuuya?"
"That's up to you," Chuuya responded, eyebrows raised expectantly.
Dazai closed the remaining gap and pressed his lips to Chuuya's. Chuuya kissed him back, which was great except that Dazai was in a very uncomfortable position and his back was starting to hurt from leaning over so far. Without thinking, Dazai broke the kiss and climbed onto the bed, straddling Chuuya before leaning down again.
"You're crushing me," Chuuya grumbled against his mouth.
"I don't care." Dazai's mouth moved to Chuuya's jaw and then his neck, tongue dragging against his jugular and teeth nipping lightly at the soft side of his throat.
"No marks," Chuuya mumbled as Dazai sucked on his neck (definitely hard enough to leave a mark). They'd never gone beyond just regular making out before, and Dazai found he liked doing this, drawing soft sounds from Chuuya as he worked and leaving small, unmistakable purple-reddish bruises in his wake. There was a different level of intimacy when his face was pressed to Chuuya's neck, their faces so close but not touching at all. Dazai could hear every quick breath Chuuya took, and could feel his chest expanding beneath him.
By the time Dazai finally climbed off of Chuuya, it was nearly six. Chuuya yawned and said, "I'm gonna take a quick nap before I go over to Tachihara's. Wake me up in half an hour?"
Dazai shrugged. "Sure. Are you helping him get ready for the party?"
"Yeah," Chuuya replied sleepily. "At 7. Yosano told you, right?"
"Obviously," Dazai answered. "Did it annoy you when Tachihara invited me?"
"It'll be a big party," Chuuya pointed out. "I can always avoid you if I want to."
Dazai let Chuuya rest for a while, and returned to his own side of the room. He'd never laid beside Chuuya while he slept, and had no desire to do that anyway. Still, he watched him for a while. His face was so peaceful, mouth slack and trailing drool. The necklace of bruises he wore stood out brilliantly, enough that Dazai almost felt guilty for it, but in the end he couldn't bring himself to.
It looked good on Chuuya, anyway.
▝■▙▚▛■▜▞▟■▘
A few hours later, Dazai walked with Yosano and Ranpo to Tachihara's. Oda and Ango had both politely declined the party invitation—both were staying in to 'study', apparently—so it was just the three of them tonight. They arrived at the building just after 9:30, and Tachihara buzzed them in before meeting them at the apartment door, which was just down the hall on the first floor. No autodefenestration tonight, then, Dazai thought wistfully.
"Yo," Tachihara greeted them, holding the door open so that they could get past. The living room was already halfway filled with students, most of whom Dazai recognized. Chuuya was in the corner with Akutagawa and a blond girl that Dazai assumed was Higuchi, the roommate he hadn't yet met, while Tecchou and Jouno were sequestered on the sofa across from Fyodor and Nikolai. Nikolai was engaged in a staring contest/conversation of sorts with Jouno, and both of their smiles dripped with poison, while Tecchou and Fyodor watched them, not exchanging a single word.
Ranpo, Yosano and Dazai trailed Tachihara to the kitchen, where Sigma and Atsushi lingered. Atsushi's eyes lit up when he spotted Dazai's, while Sigma's grew, if anything, slightly duller. Dazai grinned at both of them and said, "Well, if it isn't my favorite little underclassmen!"
"Dazai-san!" Atsushi greeted. "How are you?"
"Not bad, not bad," Dazai lied. "And you?"
"Good!" Atsushi chirped. "I was just talking to Sigma about an open position at the library. I'm getting kind of tired of working at the konbini."
"Ooh, you should totally work at the library!" Dazai said enthusiastically. "That way I can visit both of you at work!"
"Please don't," Sigma mumbled. "You're too loud."
Ranpo, who was standing behind Dazai, cackled at that. "I like this one," he decided.
"Want a drink, Dazai?" Tachihara asked, gesturing at the kitchen counter, which was filled with bottles of every shape and size.
"Sure," Dazai replied. "Got any sake?"
Tachihara grinned. "You really need to ask?" He poured a generous amount of sake—the cheap, low quality kind—into a red solo cup and passed it to Dazai.
"Thanks," Dazai said before taking a sip. It burned on the way down and settled into his stomach with a distinct, sharp warmth.
"We're gonna play some games once more people arrive," Tachihara told them. "Just enjoy yourselves until then."
Several groups of people trickled in over the next half hour. Dazai recognized Lucy, but the rest were strangers, most of them burly-looking guys who were probably on the volleyball team.
Dazai didn't speak to Chuuya intentionally, but at some point they found themselves alone in the kitchen. Chuuya's neck was suspiciously clear of marks; he must have gotten one of the girls to lend him some foundation. Dazai smiled gleefully at the thought of them helping him cover up the bruises. It must have been so embarrassing for him.
"Shitty Dazai," Chuuya greeted, expression dark. "I told you not to leave marks."
"I didn't listen!" Dazai replied cheerfully. "Chuuya looks good in those colors, anyway."
Chuuya growled. "Shut it, bastard." Up close, Dazai could see that the foundation on his neck was starting to sweat off near his jawline. Dazai wouldn't say anything about it, of course.
Around 10:30, Tachihara announced, "We're going to play a game if everyone is interested! Participation is not mandatory, of course."
"Wanna play?" Ranpo asked Dazai, eyes gleaming.
Dazai glanced at Yosano. "If you're both in, so am I."
Yosano smiled slowly. "A drinking game? Count me in." Dazai thought she was probably excited to show off her alcohol tolerance—he'd once seen her put away three bottles of wine in the span of five hours, and she still managed to walk without stumbling afterwards. Dazai had only challenged her to a drinking competition once, and he regretted it to this day.
The game they were playing was fairly simple. It was essentially spin the bottle, except instead of kissing, the spinner had to answer a question from the person the bottle landed on, or take a shot to opt out. The vodka Tachihara provided for the game looked disgusting, so Dazai resolved to answer as many questions as he was able to.
Ranpo, Yosano, Dazai, Chuuya, Tachihara, Gin, Akutagawa, Higuchi, Fyodor and Nikolai made a circle on the living room floor. Dazai found himself sandwiched between Fyodor and Higuchi despite the fact that he'd much rather sit with his friends.
Chuuya spun first, and the bottle landed on Ranpo, who grinned like a Cheshire Cat as he considered what to ask. His eyes landed on Chuuya's neck, and his grin widened. "Who did that to you?" He asked bluntly, pointing at the barely-visible marks on Chuuya, because of course he noticed.
Chuuya slapped a hand over the marks, glaring at Ranpo, before grabbing the vodka and silently throwing back a shot. Ranpo looked immensely satisfied with his lack of an answer. "That's what I thought," he said smugly.
Yosano was the next to take a turn. Her spin landed on Higuchi, who asked about her body count.
"37 now," Yosano replied, sighing. "Most of them were pretty close to death already, unfortunately."
Hiuguchi's face blanked out as Ranpo cackled. "Huh?"
"She meant body count like sex, Yosano," Dazai explained, barely suppressing a snort.
Yosano's eyes widened. "Well, shit."
"Yosano works in the emergency room and often performs risky procedures on patients in critical conditions," Ranpo explained to Higuchi once his laughter had subsided.
Higuchi looked both horrified and relieved. "...Oh."
"The real answer is 5," Yosano added.
Next was Ranpo. The bottle landed on Fyodor who asked, "Who would win in a game of chess, Dazai or myself?"
Ranpo hummed. "Depends on the stakes."
Fyodor seemed satisfied enough with that answer.
Nikolai followed and got Akutagawa, who asked, "Who would you kill if you could get away with murdering one person?"
Nikolai grinned. "Why, Fedya of course!" He replied easily, gesturing at Fyodor. Fyodor appeared unbothered by his answer, which wasn't surprising to Dazai.
Fyodor spun next, and the bottle landed on Dazai. Out of sheer curiosity Dazai asked, "Do you think you could beat me at chess?"
Fyodor smiled. "Undoubtedly."
Dazai had never cared for chess, but a small part of him wanted nothing more than to prove Fyodor wrong. Another time, maybe.
It was Dazai's turn, so he spun the bottle and watched as it slowed to a stop, pointing at Nikolai. Nikolai looked positively gleeful to be chosen. "You're a masochist, aren't you?" He asked Dazai slyly.
"What makes you think that?" Dazai asked, face impassive.
Nikolai shrugged. "You look as if you'd greatly appreciate getting punched in the face."
Chuuya snorted as Dazai replied, "I hate pain."
Nikolai smiled, shark-like. "If you say so!" He sang.
Next was Higuchi. Her spin landed on Tachihara, who asked her if she'd date anyone in the room. Higuchi sputtered and looked as if she was trying very hard not to look at Akutagawa, who appeared to be entirely oblivious, to Dazai's delight. Higuchi ended up taking a shot rather than replying.
Tachihara's spin chose Yosano, who asked who he'd most like to kiss right now, and he took a shot as well, while Gin's spin landed on Ranpo, who asked the same question (Gin also took a shot, which made Dazai more than a little suspicious. Even though he tended to be oblivious when it came to romance, he could tell there was something going on there).
Akutagawa's spin landed on Yosano, who asked if he liked anyone. He took a shot rather than answering (which was interesting, because Dazai highly doubted that he liked Higuchi in that way, but what did he know?)
Then Chuuya went, and his spin selected Dazai. Dazai smirked and asked, "Do you think you can beat me in a drinking competition?"
Chuuya's nostrils flared. "Yeah."
Dazai laughed mockingly, making Chuuya bristle. "I suppose we can test that theory after this."
"You're on," Chuuya snapped.
Yosano spun and landed on Chuuya, who asked if she'd ever hook up with a professor. "Only if it's Kouyou-san," Yosano replied.
Ranpo landed on Tachihara, who asked slyly, "Do you know who gave Chuuya those hickies?"
"Of course," Ranpo replied. He didn't look at Dazai or mention his name, thank goodness.
Nikolai landed on Dazai next. Dazai considered for a moment before asking, "Out of this circle, fuck/marry/kill."
"Fedya, all three," Nikolai replied at once.
Fyodor's spin landed on Akutagawa, who asked if he was single. "Unfortunately not," Fyodor responded. "I have a husband, in fact."
There was a beat of silence, and then the circle exploded.
"What?" Higuchi screeched. " Who?"
"You wound me, Fedya," Nikolai crooned.
Dazai almost choked. "No way," he said. "You're not married to Nikolai. No way."
"I thought it was obvious," Ranpo chimed in. "I mean, look at them."
Dazai looked between Nikolai and Fyodor. Their bodies were angled towards each other, their shoulders pressed together, but that just meant they were good friends. Right?
"I can't believe this," Chuuya muttered.
Nikolai slung an arm around Fyodor. "You'd better!" He said cheerfully. "We would never lie to you! About this, anyway."
Dazai's turn was next. He was still reeling from the sudden shock of learning that Nikolai and Fyodor were married, but he spun nonetheless. The bottle settled on Higuchi, who asked, "Where's the weirdest place you've hooked up with someone?"
The question was innocuous enough, at least to most. Dazai froze anyway, though only for a moment, as an image of a wide, sandy beach and an older woman flashed behind his eyelids. He recovered quickly, of course, and threw back a shot before pushing himself unsteadily to his feet. "Bathroom," he claimed before fleeing.
He spent at least ten minutes in the bathroom, staring into his own dead eyes in the mirror and wiping his sweaty face down with a wet cloth. When he finally left the bathroom, he found Nikolai in the hallway outside. He grinned at Dazai and said, "Well, if it isn't our little runaway! Why so slippery, Dazai?"
Dazai shrugged. "No reason."
Nikolai eyed him, looking unconvinced. "That was quite the invasive question asked of you."
"I like my privacy," Dazai replied.
Fyodor appeared around the corner and joined the two of them. "The game's over now," he informed them. "Also, Dazai-kun, Chuuya is looking for you. He said something about challenging you to a drinking competition?"
"Ah, yes," Dazai realized. "I did challenge him unofficially, didn't I?"
"I believe you did," Fyodor replied. "Best get to it, then."
"Fedya, would you like to explore the apartment?" Nikolai proposed. "I'm sure there are secrets buried somewhere in this place!"
Dazai raised an eyebrow. "You're going to snoop?"
Nikolai grinned manically. "Yep! Are you going to snitch?"
Dazai laughed. "Of course not. Have fun."
Fyodor smiled slightly at that before following Nikolai down the hallway and disappearing into the first bedroom on the left. Dazai returned to the living room and spotted Chuuya on the sofa between Tachihara and Tecchou. Jouno had somehow migrated to Tecchou's lap, but Tecchou didn't seem to mind, oddly enough.
"Oi," Chuuya barked when he saw Dazai. "You gonna own up to the drinking challenge or run away again?"
"I would never run from a challenge, my darling little munchkin," Dazai replied easily. He glanced at the others. "Hello, Tecchou-san, Jouno-san."
"Dazai-kun," Tecchou replied, while Jouno said nothing.
"You know each other?" Tachihara asked, surprised.
"We're all in psych with Kouyou," Chuuya explained.
"Ah," Tachihara said, understanding. "I didn't realize."
"The leprechaun and I have several classes together," Dazai chimed in. "Quite unfortunate, really."
Tachihara eyed him. "So I've heard."
Chuuya stood abruptly. "Are we drinking or not?"
Dazai rolled his eyes. "If you insist on losing so badly, then sure."
"I won't lose, bastard," Chuuya growled.
"If you say so!"
They retreated to the kitchen, where Dazai poured himself another cup of sake and Chuuya opened a fresh bottle of fancy-looking wine.
"Sake has a higher alcohol content than wine," Dazai pointed out. "By that logic, you should drink more than me. But," he added as Chuuya scowled, "I'll let you off this time, since I know you'll lose anyway."
"I really hate you," Chuuya grumbled before throwing back the glass of wine, drinking most of it in a few large gulps. Dazai watched the line of his neck as he drank, and took in the wine staining his lips red when he set his glass down. It was nearly empty. "You gonna drink, or what?" Chuuya challenged.
Dazai smiled. "Of course." He threw back his own cup and drank all of it in one go. It scalded his throat on the way down. Once he'd shown Chuuya the empty cup, Chuuya refilled his own glass, and Dazai did the same.
They managed to get through three more cups before Chuuya folded. "I'm done," he slurred, defeated.
Dazai grinned victoriously. "Need me to carry you home?"
"As fucking if," Chuuya sneered.
(Less than an hour later—just before midnight—Dazai bid his friends goodbye before walking Chuuya back to the dorm. He didn't have to carry him after all, but Chuuya leaned on him heavily the whole way back. Dazai found he liked it more than he should have.)