we were destined to grow up but i was scared without direction

by patheticlittlemeowmeowman

Summary:

Nakahara Chuuya is trying to get a fresh start at a prestigious boarding school. Dazai Osamu is going to make that difficult.

Notes:

first fic lets do this

my time on ao3 has been spent patiently waiting for more soukoku boarding school fics (university fics aren't enough i need these boys STUCK)

obligatory lyric title (drop from our windows by mccafferty)

Chapter 1

Notes:

YES THEY ARE OUT OF CHARACTER! emotionally prepare yourself for this reality!

there will be multiple chapters of this but i will almost certainly have no real sort of schedule so just bear with me for a while yall

The lighthearted music playing softly through the radio did nothing to relieve the tension in the car. Chuuya sat in the front seat, staring crossly out the window and fiddling with the string on his oversized black hoodie. His choppy ginger hair was unkempt, standing in all different directions and pinned to the headrest by static. 

 

In the drivers’ seat, Rimbaud looked ahead at the road. The space between his eyebrows was knit with concern, and he would glance over at Chuuya with a frown at every stop light, quickly moving his gaze back to the front before he thought the boy could notice. 

 

Chuuya did, in fact, notice. He had been fostered by Rimbaud for almost eight months now, and the man had a tendency to hover. When Chuuya first arrived at his house, the man would peek into his room every fifteen minutes, standing in the doorway to offer some amenities or snacks. Chuuya supposed he appreciated the gesture, but it certainly grew exhausting. 

 

Rimbaud glanced over at Chuuya once more, and this time he couldn’t pry his eyes away quite quickly enough. The boy’s gaze briefly met his, and he huffed and rolled his eyes before assuming his position curled up by the window once more. 

 

Rimbaud took a deep breath, exhaling deeply. “I know this isn’t something you want, Chuuya, but this place is supposed to be the best school for kids like you in Yokohama. I just…” He trailed off. “I don’t know what else to try right now, bud.” 

 

Chuuya looked over, glaring indignantly at his foster father. “So this is my only option? Getting shipped off to boarding school in buttfuck nowhere, hoping they will fix me or something so I can go back and be a good little son, someone who sits there and lets himself get hit without fighting back?” 

 

“Chuuya, language,” Rimbaud scolded. “This isn’t ideal, I’m completely aware, but the Academy will be good for you. I talked with some alumni and their parents, and they had so many wonderful things to say about it.” His tone softened. “I have a feeling that, if you’re able to get out of that head of yours, you might even enjoy this place more than you thought. The campus is supposed to be absolutely beautiful. You can probably find some quiet spots to draw… under a tree or something.” 

 

His foster son raised his eyebrows, judgment clear in his eyes.

 

“Okay, yes, I’m reaching, I know, Chuuya. You gotta work with me here. I really think this isn’t going to be as bad as you’re making it out to be. Is it going to be different? Absolutely. But, I just- I think different is what we need right now, bud, something isn’t working.” 

 

It was quiet for a while, but after what felt like hours to Rimbaud, Chuuya grunted in some sort of agreement with his foster father. “Okay, but I don’t get why the uniforms are necessary, though. Or the whole no-phones thing. Just seems excessive, if you ask me. Like, we’re just teenagers, don’t we need to have self-expression to thrive or something? Isn’t that something in one of your dumbass parenting books?”

 

“ Chuuya. ” 

 

“Okay, dumb- butt parenting books. Is that better? Can we stop talking about this now? If I’m gonna be stuck at this place for literal months , I’d at least like to enjoy my final moments of freedom in peace.”

 

Rimbaud inhaled sharply, preparing some sort of lecture, but the storm of emotion behind Chuuya’s eyes as he turned back toward the window left him speechless. He sighed, exhaling deeply to try and regain some sort of emotional bearing as the drive continued, returning to the state of uncomfortable silence. 

 

— — — — —

 

At some point during the drive, Chuuya dozed off. Rimbaud looked over at the sleeping boy. He looked… peaceful. It felt wrong to wake him, even when they pulled into the parking lot of the school. Rimbaud sat there for a moment, enjoying this final moment of quiet with his foster son before leaning over to gently shake him awake. 

 

In hindsight, Rimbaud didn’t do a particularly good job describing the school to Chuuya on the drive over. To be fair, he wasn’t sure the boy would be able to grasp it in its entirety. The Academy was an anomaly, to say the least. As the pair exited the car, Chuuya’s first glimpse of the school consisted of a large (Chuuya would describe it as more pompous than simply large , but to each their own, he supposed) wrought-iron gate, somehow dwarfed by the wrought-iron arch looming above, announcing the school’s name: the Yokohama Academy for the Development of Adolescents. As the two walked up, the gates swung open, revealing a long and somewhat winding gravel path up the hill to the campus. The length of the path felt a little impractical, considering students have so many bags to haul, but it certainly added to the dramatic air of the place.

 

Even winded from the trek up the hill, Chuuya had to admit the Academy was a sight to see. The path led to a large building made of old gray bricks, vines stretching along its walls and neatly trimmed topiaries lining the gravel in the last stretch to the door and up the large stone steps. The building didn’t seem like an alternative boarding school, more like an old European castle. 

 

The inside of the building did not disappoint. As Chuuya and Rimbaud walked in, a receptionist’s desk was positioned right by the door, framed by two large staircases curving dramatically up to a second floor. The lady behind the desk looked up, her round glasses sliding down her nose slightly as she smiled at Chuuya. “Can I help you? …Oh! You must be the new arrival! That makes you… Nakahara Chuuya, right? If you two want to head up the stairs to the principal’s office, I will contact Mori and let him know you’re here.” She gestures at the stairs on either side of her desk before reaching for the phone, dialing a number and mumbling something into the receiver, averting her attention elsewhere. 

 

Chuuya looked over to Rimbaud. His foster father shrugged, turning to head up the nearest set of stairs. Chuuya huffed, not a fan of the prospect of hauling his bags up the stairs, but he relented and followed Rimbaud. 

 

Mori’s office was grand, to say the least. The man sat behind a shiny, expensive-looking desk, his imposing shoulders framed by a dramatic desk chair and a wall of bookshelves and awards behind him. He smiled as the pair walked in, unclasping his hands to beckon them to take a seat. 

 

“Good morning, Mr. Nakahara! Hello, Mr. Rimbaud. I do hope the drive here wasn’t too hard on either of you.” 

 

Rimbaud shook his head. “No, sir, it was perfectly pleasant.” He smiled up at the principal, obviously trying to form a good first impression.

 

Chuuya did not share this objective. He plopped down in the chair, leaning back and looking down at the ground. When Rimbaud glanced over at him, imploring him to say something, he crossed his arms, shifting his gaze to look at the wall of books behind Mori. “Yeah, it was okay.” 

 

“Wonderful! That’s what I love to hear. Now, the registration has already been taken care of my my dear Mr. Rimbaud, so that just leaves us with…” Mori paused, leaning down to reach into a drawer before pulling out a thin packet of paper, “...the behavior contract. Now, this is just protocols, nothing out of the ordinary and it shouldn’t take too long to go over. Let’s get into it, yeah?”

 

Chuuya just shrugged.

 

Mori ran through the contract, detailing all the obnoxiously restrictive rules Chuuya had to follow in his time at the Academy. No illicit substances, no bullying, curfews, the same deal every school enforces. Rimbaud looked over to his foster son when Mori is detailing the section regarding physical altercations. Chuuya glared back, about to deliver some biting remark but thinking better of it. If he’s going to be stuck with this principal for the foreseeable future, it might be in his best interests to behave, at least for now. 

 

“Alright, now all I need you two to do is sign right here,” Mori pointed at a couple lines on the bottom of the last page. Rimbaud took the paper, signing the paper before passing it over to Chuuya. The boy took it, examining his foster father’s neat signature before scrawling his own onto the line below and passing it back to Mori.

 

“Kunikida, dear, you can come in now,” Mori said, and a tall boy, slightly older than Chuuya and clad in a crisp school uniform, walked in, standing stiffly by the door. “Chuuya, this is Kunikida. He will be your dorm head, and I have enlisted him to give you a tour of the campus. Kunikida has been attending the Academy for more than three years, so I feel he is appropriately qualified.” Mori chuckled at his own joke. “You two are free to begin the tour.”

 

Kunikida stepped forward, holding out his hand for Chuuya to shake. Chuuya stared at it for a second before giving Kunikida a curt nod and picking up his bags. Kunikida looked a little surprised, but took the hint and led Chuuya out the door.

Notes:

yaaaaay you made it i hope you liked it

if you wanna know a wee bit more come follow my sorry ass on tumblr @crossover-event-of-the-century

dont worry my dudes dazais gonna show up next chapter and OH BOY has he got spunk

Chapter 2

Summary:

Chuuya gets to meet his roommate at the Academy. Hilarity ensues.

Notes:

chapter 2 les do this

quick warning that this chapter is like 60% longer than the first one but i was on a roll and im too lazy to clean it up so enjoy my word vomit

so many character introductions i promise things will get more interesting from here on out

ait enjoy

As the two boys stepped out of the room, Kunikida whipped out a notebook and began scribbling furiously into it. Chuuya paused as he followed him, stepping to the side as he waited for the older boy to finish and lead the way. Kunikida continued writing, leaving the two of them standing side by side for what Chuuya considers a comically long period of time before snapping his notebook shut and tucking it into his pocket. 

 

“Now- Chuuya, was it?” Kunikida paused, waiting for his confirmation before continuing, “My name is Kunikida Doppo, and I am the boys’ dorm head at the Yokohama Academy for the Development of Adolescents. It is a pleasure to meet you and your father.” 

 

“Foster father.” 

 

“Right. My apologies. If you will follow me, I can begin the tour. I’m assuming you wouldn’t like to hold onto those bags any longer than you’d like to.”

 

Kunikida walked Chuuya through the main office building and past the receptionist, waving at her as they passed. They strolled out onto the other side of the building and into the courtyard.

 

It was a very fancy courtyard.

 

A large lawn was divided into sections by a web of neat gravel paths, topiaries standing near any doors. In the center of the courtyard was a large gazebo, painted white wood with a handful of small round tables and wooden chairs inside. Ivy crawled up many of the posts, and a line of string lights ran around the base of the roof. Everything at this place was immaculate, Chuuya noticed. It was all so clean, it felt a little unnerving. The janitorial staff must be really passionate or something. 

 

Kunikida led him through the courtyard into another building, made of the same gray bricks as the main office. This one was slightly larger, with a slightly more imposing appearance. The inside appeared to be a hall of classrooms, plastered walls with lacquered wooden doors. There weren’t any classes going on that day, providing ample opportunity for the boys to peek into classrooms and get a look at the inside. The desks were pretty nice, with large tops and separate chairs and desks, a luxury Chuuya had come to appreciate after years of getting into awkward situations when the two are attached. 

 

Chuuya began to realize the scope of the anomaly that was the Academy as Kunikida led him down to the horse stables. What kind of school has horse stables on-campus? Kunikida told him something about equestrianism being therapeutic or something, but it all felt a little excessive.

 

All the Academy’s facilities were incredibly well maintained. They had a large running track and a field Kunikida described as a “sports facility” (which Chuuya just took to mean “PE field”), a pool, some sort of outdoor amphitheater, and a somewhat impressive vegetable garden. A few students strolled around campus as the two took their tour, shooting offhand glances at Chuuya but leaving him alone for the most part and going about their business. Most of the students were in their uniforms, some forgoing the blazers and simply wearing their collared shirts, but a couple took advantage of the absence of classes and wore street clothes, sporting a typical array of graphic t-shirts, jeans, sneakers, and skirts. 

 

Kunikida and Chuuya walked into a large building labeled as the “Boys’ Residence Hall”, walking inside to reveal a hallway lined with dorm rooms. A few doors were open as the two moved through the hall, revealing students completing their day-to-day tasks; working at their desks, lounging in their beds, folding laundry. Kunikida led the younger boy to a set of stairs, pausing to turn to him before beginning his ascent. 

 

“Your room is at the end of the hall upstairs. Those rooms are a bit larger than the others, so I’d say you got lucky but…” He trailed off, thinking carefully about how to phrase his thoughts. “ I’d let you go alone, but your roommate, he’s… a bit of a character. It would be best if I accompanied you, just to ensure he keeps his act together while you get settled in.”

 

Chuuya looked at him quizzically for a moment but nodded. The two began to make their way up the stairs and down the hall. 

 

Kunikida walked Chuuya to the final door down the hall. The younger boy saw him take a deep breath before knocking sharply on the door three times and inserting his key, turning the knob and swinging the door open. 

 

The boy inside was dangling by his knees from the top bunk, corded earbuds hanging in front of his face before looping into his ears. Upon Kunikida’s entry, he startled, losing his grip on the bunk and crashing headfirst into the floor with a thump . 

 

Kunikida inhaled sharply. “Dazai, you were informed of your roommate’s arrival today. Excessively informed, in my opinion. I even wrote it onto your calendar for you. So how, I pray you, did we come in to you being irresponsible and out of uniform?” His voice raised on the last sentence. This was clearly not the first incident of something like this occurring. 

 

The boy, apparently named Dazai, collected himself off the floor, brushing off his large black t-shirt bearing the design of some band Chuuya wasn’t familiar with. His black sweatpants hung loosely off his frame, and the visible parts of his arms and necks seemed to be wrapped in some kind of bandages. His brown hair was unkempt, dangling loosely in front of his eyes, doing little to obscure his almost larger-than-life expression.

 

“But Kunikida…” the boy began, drawing out his elder’s name, “it’s Sunday, you can’t force me to wear the uniform!”

 

“Mori requested it. You know how he is about first impressions.”

 

Dazai groaned, lolling his head back and staring at the ceiling. “Who cares? Mori isn’t going to get mad at me, I’m not breaking any rules. Any day I am not contractually obligated to wear that stupid uniform is a day I will not be wearing it under any circumstances. And besides, I wouldn’t have been doing something irresponsible if you hadn’t adhered to your nasty little habit of barging in immediately after knocking.” He cocked his head after the last sentence, awaiting Kunikida’s rebuttal. 

 

Kunikida rolled his eyes. “Whatever. I’m not wasting any more time arguing with you about this.” He stepped back, pushing Chuuya into the room by his shoulder, causing him to stumble slightly. “This is your new roommate, Nakahara Chuuya. Please, just give him a chance to settle in before you start being a nuisance.” With that, he turned and walked away.

 

“But being a nuisance is so much fun!” Dazai yelled after Kunikida. He shifted his gaze to look at Chuuya.

 

“What’s your deal?”

 

Dazai shrugged. “Kunikida’s fun to mess with. Most people are, if you figure out what makes them tick. It’s like a game, really.”

 

Chuuya stared at him. “Isn’t that… super manipulative or something?”

Dazai smiled, fixing his posture to look down at the shorter boy. “What, are you scared I’m gonna manipulate you?”

 

Chuuya could feel his ears turning red. “Can’t I just settle in, set up my bunk and stuff? You’re standing in the way.”

 

Dazai stepped to the side, gesturing to the lower bunk with a flourish. “Be my guest.”

 

“Thanks-” The lower bunk was littered with Dazai’s belongings. The bare mattress had apparently been serving as an open-concept wardrobe for Dazai’s clothes, and his hairbrush laid across the naked pillow. “What the fuck? You better help me with this.”

 

“It’s your bunk, isn’t it? Or are you just incapable of doing anything yourself? Figures. So many useless people at the Ac-”

 

His words were cut off with a nauseating crack as his hairbrush made contact with his nose. The boy barely flinched, pausing to process what had just happened before turning and running toward the open door, yelling. “Kunikida! My roommate just arrived, and he’s already physically assaulted me! My safety is at risk! Kunikida!” 

 

Chuuya heard Kunikida and Dazai arguing down the hall as he began to fling Dazai’s clothes off the bunk and onto the floor, placing his own bags onto it. This was going to be interesting.

 

— — — — —

 

Unpacking didn’t take all that long. Chuuya collapsed onto his newly made bed, putting in his headphones and turning toward the wall. It was still early afternoon, which left plenty of time for a nap before dinner. Just as he was beginning to doze off, Dazai’s smug voice cut through his music. 

 

“You’re sixteen and you still sleep with a stuffed animal?”

 

Chuuya sat up abruptly, his head narrowly missing the top bunk. Dazai’s head hung over the edge of his bunk, holding an ice pack to his nose. It wasn’t broken, but there would definitely be some bruising. 

 

“S-Shut up! It’s not that weird,” Chuuya replied hastily, shifting the stuffie out of Dazai’s view. The toy was pretty small, a tan stuffed rabbit that could easily fit in a tissue box. Chuuya received the toy as a birthday present when he was two years old and he doesn’t go anywhere without it, but Dazai didn’t need to know that.

 

“Let me see it,” Dazai said, earning an aggressive shake of Chuuya’s head. “Come on. Some of those things have beans that help them sit up or something. What if there’s an intruder and I need something to throw?” 

 

Chuuya glared up at him. “If you throw Baki at an intruder, I’m throwing you.”

 

Dazai smirked. “It has a name? Man, Chuuya. What are you, eight?”

 

“Of course he has a name! How else would I refer to him?” Chuuya scoffed, turning over and laying back down. Dazai lifted his head back onto his bunk, and the two boys sat in silence.

 

— — — — —

 

The dinner bell rang through the hall, three sharp chimes. Chuuya opened his eyes, groggy from a decently long nap. He sat up slowly, taking in the room once more. Dazai was nowhere to be found. Maybe he had a penchant for being first in the dinner line or something. 

 

The school provided each student with a lanyard and an attached ID tag and room key. Chuuya walked over to the door, grabbing his lanyard off the coat hook before heading out into the hall. As he walked, the dorm’s other students exited their rooms, pulling on blazers and fiddling with room keys. There were quite a few boys, most younger than Chuuya. As he walked, a younger boy ran up to him, his gray hair bouncing up and down as he went. He wore a big smile on his face, with innocent eyes seemingly fading from purple to yellow. 

 

“You’re the new kid, right? I’m Atsushi! Mori told us to be nice to you since you just got here, but people at the Academy usually aren’t friendly enough to do stuff like that, so I thought I might be the best you can get. No offense, you seem perfectly nice, just most of the kids here kinda keep to themselves. What’s your name? How old are you?”

 

Chuuya stared blankly at the boy. Compared to most of the kids, his demeanor was… unusual. Naive, almost. Atsushi didn’t seem much younger than him, but he had a sort of youthful energy to him. How did he wind up at a place like this? 

 

“Oh boy, you’re not much of a talker, are you? Like my roommate Ryunosuke. He’s pretty quiet, but that’s okay… I’m guessing you want me to leave you alone now right? I’m not offended or anything, I promise. Have a good dinner! Maybe they will make the food extra good since we have a new kid.” Atsushi turned toward the door, speeding up his pace and hustling toward the dinner line. …That was a change of pace. 

 

The dinner line wasn’t all that long. The Academy apparently had almost two hundred kids, so Chuuya must be earlier than most of them. Ahead of him in the line, kids were grouped up, holding places for their friends and chatting with one another. Chuuya supposed it was easy to get close to people here, living in such close quarters for so long. The school year had only begun a month or so ago, but everyone seemed to know each other pretty well. 

 

The line passed pretty quickly. As Chuuya neared the front, he got a glimpse of the array of food available for dinner that night. Bowls of steaming rice and miso soup sat next to each other, with larger plates of yakitori and cucumber salad further along the counter. Behind the food stood a tall man, older with short gray hair and small rectangular glasses sitting on the tip of his nose. There was a thin chorus of “Thank you, Mr. Hawthorne” from the students as they took their dinner. 

 

The dining hall was pretty impressive. Students sat at rows of long wooden tables, and a large table at the front of the room was occupied by faculty. Chuuya looked around for faces he recognized. Kunikida was sitting with a group of older students, seemingly very early to mealtime. Atsushi was sitting with another boy, around his age with a strange choppy black-and-white haircut and a noticeable absence of eyebrows. How he got away with that with the school’s dress code is beyond Chuuya. Dazai was nowhere to be found. 

 

Upon seeing Chuuya enter, Mori stood up, beckoning him over. As he walked up to the table, Mori tapped the side of his cup. The room quieted down almost immediately. 

 

“Good evening, my wonderful students!” Mori said with a smile.

 

The room echoed with murmurs of “Hello, Mr. Mori.” 

 

“As I assume most of you are aware, we have a new student joining us today. Can everyone give a warm welcome to Mr. Nakahara Chuuya?”

Murmurs start up again, with echoes of “Welcome, Chuuya.”

 

“Now, I expect you all to represent the Academy and be friendly and inviting to our new student, yes?” Chuuya could hear the hint of threat as the room was quick to agree to Mori’s terms.

 

As Chuuya walked back toward the center of the room, a boy he had never seen before waves, trying to signal him over. The boy looked to be around his age, with spiky pale gray hair and rather striking gray eyes. He smiled at Chuuya as the ginger walked over to their table. 

 

“Hey Chuuya! Welcome to the cesspool that is the Yokohama Academy for the Development of Adolescents.”

 

“Shirase, be nice!” the girl next to him scolded. She looked similar in age, with long pink hair partially pulled up into a bun. “Don’t worry about him, Chuuya, he’s just cranky because Hawthorne didn’t let him get a second plate of yakitori. I’m Yuan. It’s nice to meet you!”

 

“You too.”

 

“You can sit with us if you want,” Shirase offered. 

 

Chuuya accepted. Even if these kids were just following Mori’s instructions, it felt nice to be included, he supposed.

 

— — — — —

 

It was almost nine o’clock when Chuuya got back to his dorm room. When he opened the door, Dazai was sitting on his bunk, nose still bruised, headphones in. He glanced at Chuuya as he walked in. “What’s up?”

 

“Where were you at dinner?”

 

Dazai shrugged. “What was it? I don’t like chicken.” 

 

“Then I guess you got lucky. It was yakitori. Aren’t you hungry?” Chuuya asked. Dazai pointed to the minifridge in their room. 

 

“I come prepared.”

 

Chuuya sighed. It was too late to deal with Dazai’s antics. He went to wash up and changed into his pajamas before heading to bed.

Notes:

yaaaaaaaaaay i hope you liked it

dont expect me to regularly be this consistent at posting pretty please this was an isolated incident

ill try to find some kind of schedule or something but dont get your hopes up

see ya next chapter when the SCHOOLKIDS start SCHOOL? WOOOOAH DUUUDE

Chapter 3

Summary:

Chuuya spends his first night at the Academy. Let's see how garbage of a roommate Dazai is.

Notes:

chapter three les do this

CONTENT WARNING!!
-considerable description of violence and bullying (begins at "Class had just concluded." and ends at "Was it... tapping?" i will put a summary in the end notes)
-mentions of medication

lowkey did not mean to make this as angsty as it turned out but bear with me yall sometimes i just feel a little spicy (besides i gotta EARN that angst tag yknow)

Chuuya never slept well in unfamiliar places. The Academy turned out to be no exception. 

 

He fell asleep quickly enough, that wasn’t the problem. It was a pretty big day for him, getting settled in. The issues started after he had dozed off. 

 

— — — — — 

 

Class had just concluded. Chuuya grabbed his bag and slung it over his shoulder as he walked out of the classroom. It wasn’t a particularly memorable class or anything. Chuuya had been counting down the minutes until the school bell rang and he could head out. 

 

He barely made it out the door. Just as he stepped out, a fist slammed into his left temple and he was on the ground, his head whipping back and landing on the floor with a nauseating crack . 

 

His vision was cloudy and black around the edges. He could make out silhouettes, looming figures standing over him. Through the ringing in his ears, he could hear the echoes of voices. 

 

“Guess what, punk? Your dear pal Lippmann decided to run his mouth, and we can’t let that go unpunished, can we?” Chuuya didn’t answer. He felt like he was underwater. His vision was fading fast, and it took all he had to try and sit up.

 

The figure pushed his forehead back, toppling him and sending him back to the ground. “No can do, buddy. Tell your little crew hello for me later, okay?” Chuuya could hear the smirk in his voice. It was infuriating. Chuuya could feel his ears turning red, and he mustered all his strength to pull his knee up before kicking it out, making contact with someone’s knee. He heard a scream, and the figure above him left his field of vision. 

 

He heard another voice, livid with rage. “Motherfu- oh no, you don’t. ” 

 

He felt a boot slam into his chest, and everything went dark. 

 

All he could feel was something on his shoulder. Was it… tapping? 

 

— — — — — 

 

Chuuya sat up abruptly in his bed, slamming his forehead into the bunk above. He hunched over, bringing a hand up to cradle the spot he had hit as he tried to steady his breathing. 

 

A hand slid off his shoulder. Was someone next to him? That would explain the tapping in his dream. Who was next to him? He was not nearly awake enough to process all this right now.

 

He tried to collect himself, taking deep breaths and closing his eyes. The room was quiet.

 

“Are you awake now?”

 

Chuuya looked over to the whispering voice, startling slightly. Dazai was crouched on the floor next to Chuuya’s bunk, his eyebrows furrowed in a look of uncharacteristic concern. Oh right. The two were roommates. Chuuya wasn’t used to this whole ‘boarding school’ situation. 

 

“Yeah,” he grumbled, still getting his bearings and trying to return to this world. “What happened? Why are you out of bed?”

 

“You were making a racket. Kicked my bunk.” Dazai reached down onto the floor and picked up Baki, pressing it into Chuuya’s chest. “You dropped him.”

 

“...Thanks.” 

 

Dazai stood up and turned around. Chuuya closed his eyes, hugging Baki close. He was still a little rattled, but Dazai didn’t need to know that. Stuff like this happened to Chuuya pretty damn frequently. You’d think he’d be sort of used to it by now.

 

Chuuya’s rambling inner monologue was cut off by a strange glow peeking in through his eyelids. He opened his eyes and looked over. Dazai was crouched in front of the minifridge, the small light illuminating his silhouette. He reached into the fridge and grabbed something before getting up and carefully kicking it closed, padding back over to Chuuya. 

 

He extended the item, which appeared to be a plastic water bottle, out to the ginger. “Drink.” Chuuya took it from his hand, cracking the bottle open and taking a sip. Dazai turned his attention to the ladder, walking over and beginning to climb back up. “Breakfast is in five hours. Probably a good idea to not go into your first day sleep-deprived.”

 

Chuuya really wishes he could take Dazai’s advice. That would simplify things greatly. He could never manage to pull it together enough to go back to sleep after a nightmare, though. He set the bottle onto the ground near his head and laid back down, sighing and clutching Baki. 

 

— — — — —

 

Chuuya’s alarm went off at 6:30. He rolled out of bed, walking over to his desk to turn it off. The curtains in the room were drawn, but the orange light filtering in through the gaps hinted at the sunrise. Chuuya could probably appreciate it more if he wasn’t so goddamn tired. He strolled over to his wardrobe, pulling out the pieces of his uniform. It wasn’t horribly unattractive, a simple gray blazer and slacks with a white collared shirt and teal-green tie. They were nice enough to let kids bring their own shoes, so Chuuya opted for his pair of worn-in black Doc Marten boots. He pulled on the uniform, smoothing over the nicely ironed fabric with his hands. He suspected it was never going to look quite this nice again. He wasn’t known for taking particularly good care of his clothes. 

 

He took a minute to comb through his hair. He took good care of it, even if its choppy cut and messy bangs indicated otherwise. Rimbaud started letting him buy some fancy hair products on the condition that he would shower more often. Chuuya didn’t enjoy the experience of showering, it was too hot and too much effort, but he was willing to compromise. 

 

He pulled his bookbag, a black messenger bag embroidered with the school’s logo, off his desk and began loading his supplies into it. The Academy provided its students with the items they would need, which Rimbaud probably enjoyed greatly. Once everything was packed in, he shoved Baki into the front pocket. He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of his new classmates by walking around with him out in the open, but there was no way in hell he was going to make it through today without Baki. 

 

Checking that Dazai was still asleep (he was), he grabbed his lanyard off the hook and headed out the door. It didn’t take him long to get ready, but he needed to stop at the front office to pick up his schedule before breakfast, so he was running a little short on time. He headed out of his dorm building and into the courtyard, catching the last bits of orange glow from the sunrise as he walked. 

 

The receptionist-lady smiled as he strolled up to the front desk. “Good morning Chuuya! Did you sleep well?” She held out a paper copy of his schedule.

 

Chuuya shrugged. He wasn’t going to explain the events of last night to this poor unsuspecting woman. “Well enough.”

 

“That’s good to hear! You know, if you head over now, you might be first in the breakfast line!” Her tone was remarkably excited, as though this was quite the achievement. Boarding school kids find things to get excited about when they can, Chuuya supposed. Waving goodbye to the woman, he set out to join the line. 

 

— — — — — 

 

Chuuya was not, in fact, first in the breakfast line. As he walked out of the doors, he saw Kunikida, strategically positioned just outside the dining hall. He looked a bit comical, waiting for the doors to open like some sort of big cat on the prowl. 

 

The breakfast bell rang as Chuuya walked up behind Kunikida. The doors swung open, and the two of them headed toward the kitchen counter. Today’s breakfast was incredibly average. Rice, miso soup, some kind of grilled fish, and tamagoyaki. Chuuya took some plates and went to eat in the main dining hall. 

 

Shirase walked in from the kitchen just as Chuuya took his first bite, making eye contact and strolling over to set his tray down in the next chair over. “How’d you sleep? Has the back pain set in yet?”

 

“I slept okay. My roommate’s quiet enough.”

 

“What’s his name? There’s only forty-seven kids in our grade. I’m willing to bet I know him,” Shirase responded. 

 

“Dazai.”

 

Shirase stared at him for a second, almost dumbfounded. “Holy shit. They stuck you with Dazai ? That kid’s fuckin’ weird.”

 

For reasons unknown, Chuuya felt a pang of anger at Shirase’s assessment. “What do you mean? He’s been okay so far.”

 

“Dude, that guy never shows up to meals, just leaves class when he wants to, the whole shabang. Normally, they don’t even let him have a roommate. ”

 

Was Shirase right? Chuuya doesn’t remember last night all that clearly, but he seemed alright then. “Eh, I haven’t had any issues yet. Is the breakfast here normally this good?” He asked, trying to shift the subject off of Dazai. Shirase took the bait, happy to complain about another aspect of the Academy he was fed up with. 

 

As the two chatted, the PA system went off with Mori’s voice. 

 

“All students with morning medication, please report to the health office.” 

 

Right. Chuuya’s psych had put him on antidepressants a couple months ago, an update he was still growing accustomed to. He turned to Shirase. “That’s my cue, I guess. See you later.” 

 

— — — — —

 

The school nurse, a stern looking woman with a dark bob and a butterfly hair clip by the name of Nurse Yosano, stood by a rather large cabinet when Chuuya walked in. 

 

“Hello there. You must be Chuuya. Welcome to The Academy, young man.”

 

“Thanks. I have morning meds.” Chuuya wasn’t super interested in sticking around to chat. He still had to figure out where his first class was.

 

“Alright, let me check your file.” As she leafed through a drawer full of folders, none other than Dazai himself strolled into the room, yawning dramatically.

 

“Good morning, doc. I have arrived for my drugs.”

 

“Don’t call me ‘doc.’” The woman’s voice was stern, but not without humor. Chuuya supposed the two had developed a sort of banter. “Chuuya, this is Dazai, have the two of you met?”

 

Dazai chuckled. “Oh, my dear sweet doctor, we are well acquainted.”

 

“He’s my roommate,” Chuuya clarified. 

 

Yosano raised her eyebrows, walking over from her cabinet with two plastic medication cups. Chuuya’s cup only had one pill. Dazai’s had about five. She handed the two of them little paper cups filled with water. 

 

Dazai downed his medication in one go, tossing everything into his mouth and taking the water like a shot. “Chuuya, what’s your first period?” 

 

Chuuya looked down at his schedule. “I’ve got… Homeroom with Oda.”

 

Dazai looked over, somewhat surprised. “Hey, that’s mine too! You should walk to class with me. It would make for a nice little morning routine!” He stood up, grabbing Chuuya’s wrist and leading him toward the door. Chuuya thanked Yosano as the two headed out to begin Chuuya’s first class at the Yokohama Academy for the Development of Adolescents.

Notes:

CW summary: chuuya has a nightmare about a fight in school where he gets pretty beaten up before dazai wakes him up

okay i lied school didnt start just yet but NEXT CHAPTER MY DUDES

i am impressing myself every day with how goddamn consistent im being about posting

see yall soon with the next chapter! fingers crossed it wont be as heavy as this one was

Chapter 4

Summary:

OOOOOOH SPICY DILEMMA BUT THE BOY DOESNT EVEN KNOW IT YET

Notes:

the characters have begun moving on their own and i am just here to document it

took a couple days off from writing but ya boi is back folks with a decent length chapter to show for it

EVERYONE SAY HI ODASAKU!!!

“You know I can find the way myself, right? You can let go of my wrist.” 

 

Dazai pulled his shoulders up in a somewhat lopsided shrug, maintaining his grip on Chuuya’s forearm and continuing his assault on the ginger’s shoulder joint as he pulled him through the courtyard. The taller boy was moving at a pace Chuuya had to hustle to keep up with, the morning breeze ruffling both their hair. 

 

“You have to meet Odasaku! Odasaku is, like, the best teacher here, and if I take you into his class and introduce you to him, he will like you because he likes me and he says he trusts my judgment of people’s character.”

 

“Does that really require being so early? Can’t we sit outside for a while or something?” Chuuya had never been a fan of being inside, if it could be avoided. He much preferred being outside, where it was less stuffy and restrictive. 

 

“No! We have to go early, because you two need a chance to talk before class starts, because you’re my roommate and Odasaku was worried about me getting a roommate, so you need to go and show him you’re not a serial killer or anything,” Dazai responded, pushing through the doors into one of the halls of classrooms. Chuuya tried not to be offended at the assumption. Maybe that was a genuine concern at the Academy. 

 

Oda’s classroom was in the middle of the hall, on the left side. Dazai expertly towed Chuuya down the hall and through his door, pushing it open dramatically as if to announce his arrival. 

 

“Odasaku! My roommate is here and he didn’t kill me last night or anything!”

 

The man Chuuya assumed was Oda was sitting behind a desk at the front of the room. His reddish-brown hair was slightly ruffled, and the sleeves of his beige coat were haphazardly pushed up his forearms as he leaned over a computer. He startled slightly as Dazai barged in, immediately glancing up toward the door. 

 

“Jeez- Dazai, you’ve gotta give me a warning. I haven’t even had a cup of coffee yet.”

 

Dazai ignored the teacher’s plea, dragging Chuuya into the middle of the room before releasing his wrist and strolling over to a desk next to the window, swinging his feet up onto the desk as he sat down and leaned back. “Chuuya, this is Odasaku. Odasaku, this is my roommate, Chuuya. He’s short, and loud, and he hit me with a hairbrush, but I’m alive.” 

 

“What- I’m not that short! I just haven’t hit my growth spurt yet!” Chuuya barked at Dazai, feeling his ears burn red as he clenched his fists.

 

“Look Odasaku, he barks like a dog!”

 

“He hit you?” Oda glanced at Dazai, raising his eyebrows before shifting his gaze over to give Chuuya a knowing look. “Did you break anything?”

 

“No,” Chuuya responded, not expecting the absence of concern in the teacher’s voice.

 

“Did you draw blood?”

 

“No.”

 

“Did he deserve it?” Wow, this guy knew Dazai.

 

“...Yes.” 

 

“Fair enough. Well, Chuuya, why don’t you come up here and chat with me?” He turned his chair, gesturing toward a stool next to his desk. Chuuya walked over, taking a seat.

 

“So, what brings you to the Yokohama Academy for the Development of Adolescents?” Oda lowered his voice slightly. It was only Dazai in the room, and he certainly wasn’t paying attention, but the gesture to protect his privacy felt… nice.

 

Chuuya shrugged slightly. “Got angry. Fought some kids. Moved schools a couple times. My foster dad thought this place might be worth a shot.” He looked out the window past Oda, trying to disguise his embarrassment regarding the topic. “Didn’t you know that? I’m sure they give you guys files on us or something.”

 

“I don’t like to read that part. It’s pretty damn wrong most of the time. Usually better to hear it from the kids. More honest, at least.” Man, this guy knew what he was talking about. That was a nice change of pace. “I’m guessing you have appointments with Kouyou on your schedule?”

 

Chuuya nodded. “Who’s Kouyou?”

 

“Our on-site therapist. She can be a little strict at first, but she’s super helpful to some kids.” He nodded his head toward Dazai at that last part. “Most kids here have appointments with her at least twice a week. Her office is pretty nice. Why don’t you take a seat up front? I can help you set up your notebook and everything.” He pointed at a desk in the front row, three or four desks away from Dazai. 

 

Chuuya stood up, walking over to the desk. Oda followed him as he sat down, pulling his book bag onto his lap. 

 

The two of them went through the supplies in Chuuya’s bag, writing class names and classroom locations in permanent marker until the bell rang and students filed into the room. 

 

— — — — — 

 

The bell rang once more, indicating the end of class and snapping Chuuya back to reality. He tried to pay attention in class, he really did, but anything resembling a lecture had the remarkable ability to shut his brain off like a light switch. Besides, he kept up with his work well enough, so something was working. Kind of. 

 

He started shoving things back into his bookbag, leaving his schedule out on his desk. He slung his bag over his shoulder and reached for the slip of paper on his desk, just as a familiar hand slid it out of his reach. Dazai picked up the paper, holding it up at eye level and furrowing his brow. 

 

“You have Fukuzawa next? Hoo boy. Hope you’re awake now, ‘cuz he’s gonna make you work. ”

 

“Give me that!” Chuuya tried to grab the schedule, but Dazai moved it up and out of his reach. “I have to go!” He clambered up onto the desk, holding Dazai’s arm at the shoulder in a desperate attempt to retrieve the captive paper. 

 

“Dazai…” Oda warned, staring daggers at the boy.

 

Dazai sighed, lowering his arm and letting Chuuya grab hold of the schedule. “You’re no fun, Odasaku.” 

 

Chuuya huffed, storming out of the classroom without another word. Fukuzawa’s classroom was just down the stairs. He strolled in, scanning the room for familiar faces. 

 

“Chuuya! You have Fukuzawa for History? Come sit next to me!” Shirase was sitting in the middle of the classroom, gesturing at an open desk to his left. Quite a few students were already in the classroom, and Shirase seemed confident he wasn’t about to take someone’s seat, so he walked over, setting his bag down and taking a seat. 

 

Fukuzawa was standing at the front of the classroom, donning a crisp green yukata and black haori. He reeked of authority. Chuuya could swear he felt a shiver down his spine as the man’s gaze turned to face him. 

 

“Good morning Chuuya.” Fukuzawa walked over, holding a beefy stack of papers in his hand. He towered over the boy in height, and being seated did nothing to remedy that. He slid the papers onto the desk. “You missed about a month of work. These are the assignments necessary for a baseline understanding of the topics we have already covered. I expect them to be completed in the next ten school days in order to keep up with the rest of the class.” 

 

It took everything Chuuya had to stop his jaw from dropping. Oh. This is what Dazai was talking about. He stared at the pile of papers in front of him. This was only the necessary stuff? 

 

Shirase flashed a grin. “Welcome to hell, Nakahara. Here, lemme see.” He grabbed the papers off Chuuya’s desk, flipping through them. “If it makes you feel any better, you got off easy. This is way less than you would’ve had to do if you were here.” He tossed the papers back onto the desk, brushing his hands off and making a face as though the thought of the work repulsed him.

 

“I mean, I’m here now, so I guess I’m just as screwed as the rest of you from this point onward.” Chuuya chuckled dryly. He tucked the work into a folder and turned to make an attempt at paying attention to Fukuzawa. 

 

— — — — —

 

One of the main selling points of the Yokohama Academy for the Development of Adolescents was the integrated therapeutic programs. Outside of talk therapy, the Academy offered an assortment of other therapies, including music therapy, art therapy, equine therapy (which Shirase exclusively referred to as “horse time”), and several smaller one-on-one activities. It all felt a little excessive to Chuuya, but he supposed it made sense at a last-resort place like this. 

 

Today, to Chuuya’s dismay, the therapy of choice was dance therapy. He did not have any sort of rhythm, but he doubted his classmates really had any, either. The therapist lady was perfectly nice but far out of her league, expecting a class of excited little kids but instead surrounded by sulking teenagers who had no choice but to attend. Chuuya almost felt bad for her.

 

Shirase was there, too. Any time the therapist tried to teach a new step, he and Chuuya would look at each other and almost burst out laughing as their classmates struggled to keep up. The experience improved significantly with Shirase present, like the two of them were observers, watching everything unfold and taking it all in together. Chuuya wasn’t expecting to wind up with a friend so quickly, but Shirase had this loose, informal feeling that made it awfully easy to just slide into step with him. 

 

The two of them walked out of the hall together, still giggling about Atsushi tripping over his foot and crashing into Akutagawa. The bell rang out, signaling the start of lunchtime, and Shirase grabbed Chuuya’s hand and pulled him over to the cafeteria. Chuuya felt a heat start to rise in his cheeks. He was surprised by Shirase’s sudden motion… or something. 

 

As the two exited the lunch line with trays of food, Shirase headed back out toward the door. 

 

“Where are you going? Don’t we have to finish lunch before we head out?”

 

Shirase turned, flashing that grin that Chuuya was beginning to recognize. “I won’t tell if you won’t.” With that, he walked out the door, Chuuya quick to follow. 

 

Shirase led him to a large oak tree toward the edge of campus, setting down his tray on the ground by the trunk and moving to sit cross-legged, making room for Chuuya next to him. The two of them were tucked in between two large roots, pushing them together like a cramped loveseat. The two of them sat and ate for a while, giggling and trying not to elbow each other. 

 

Chuuya set his spoon down, looking at the space around him. He was looking up at the sky, trying to pick out shapes among the clouds, when Shirase snickered, pulling him out of his trance. 

 

“Look at your dumbass roommate over there.” He pointed to a tree about a hundred yards away. A pair of shoes were visible perched on a branch, peeking through the leaves. “Fuckin’ weirdo. I swear, it takes a special kind of loser to stick out like a sore thumb at a school for troubled kids.” 

 

Chuuya felt a pang of anger, but immediately suppressed it. Why would he care about Dazai? He just had to share a room with the guy. Shirase had been so welcoming, letting him join in on his first day of being at school. His word was as good as any about the kids he’d been going to school with. Still, he felt like he owed Dazai… something.

 

A voice pulled him out of his thoughts. “You alright, sweetheart?” Shirase crooned. 

 

The nickname shocked Chuuya, and he could feel his cheeks blush bright red. “Y-yeah, just… looking at the campus. It’s pretty beautiful, even if it’s kind of a shithole, you know?” 

 

Shirase looked over, smiling. “It’s not the only beautiful thing I’m seeing right now.” With that, he stood up, grabbing his tray and heading back toward the cafeteria, albeit not before sending a wink Chuuya’s way.

 

…Wow. Chuuya wasn’t expecting this to escalate, especially not like this. He could feel his face burning cherry red, his ears matching the shade. He took a couple breaths in a desperate attempt to collect himself before picking up his dishes and walking in.

Notes:

teehee i love predictable storylines

see ya next time yall ill update asap

Chapter 5

Summary:

Chuuya has some more classes, some of which proving to be a bit of a challenge. How will he handle it? Is this an excuse for the author to write fluff? More on this tonight at 7.

Notes:

YA BOI IS BACK AT IT AGAIN

accidentally made this chapter a lil bit beefy so enjoy but keep your expectations low please and thank you

CONTENT WARNINGS: emetophobia (present, brief description), panic attacks (moderate description)

if you need to avoid anything the offending section starts at "The open water bottle slipped from his hand..." and ends at "The two of them sat there for a while." im gonna put a description of the events in the end notes if you need em. stay safe, make good decisions, drink water, dont die yall

The rest of Chuuya’s classes passed in a blur. He just kept thinking about what Shirase had said to him at lunch. He certainly wasn’t expecting things to… escalate like they had. He wasn’t mad about it, though. Not at all. Frankly, it ignited a sort of warm, fuzzy feeling inside him that he quite liked.

He strolled back to his dorm room once his last class got out, fumbling with the key on his lanyard to let himself into the room. He swung the door open, expecting to see Dazai perched in some strange location, but his roommate wasn’t in there. Odd, but not out of character for the boy.

Chuuya unpacked his supplies onto his desk, trying to decide what work was highest on his priority list. Eventually, he brought out his math and Japanese homework, deciding that would be the most immediately relevant and he could work on Fukuzawa’s make-up later. He uncapped his pen and got to work.

Chuuya had never struggled with understanding and completing work. He was usually one of the first ones in his classes to grasp concepts, and he turned in decent quality homework (assuming he liked the teacher, which… wasn’t all too common). He was almost done with his Japanese assignment when the door swung open and Dazai walked inside.

“Long time no see.”

Dazai’s only response was a loud groan, tossing his bookbag to the side and making a beeline for the ladder to his bunk. He flopped onto his bed, slamming his face into his pillow and remaining there, limp like a doll.

“Aren’t you going to do your homework?”

Somehow, that comment ignited enough fire to get Dazai to move, if only to lift his head and glare at the ginger.

“I’m not at home,” he spat, an impressive amount of venom behind his words. “You can’t make me do homework if I’m not at home.” With that, he let his neck go limp once more, smacking his face back into the pillow and exhaling deeply. Chuuya just let him stay like that. This didn’t seem like a battle he could win.

The two of them sat there in silence until the chime of the dinner bell rang through the hall. Chuuya abandoned his work at his desk and grabbed his lanyard, heading out and leaving Dazai (whose face was still planted into his pillow).

As Chuuya headed toward the end of the dinner line, a voice called his name.

“Chuuya! Come here, I got a good spot!” Shirase waved at him from a place much farther up in the line. Chuuya hustled up to meet him.

“Thanks.”

“Anytime.” Shirase smiled, an expression that made Chuuya get that warm, fuzzy feeling again. They chatted for a while, recounting the day’s events to one another until they made it to the front of the line. The two of them grabbed their food and ducked into the cafeteria, where Yuan was waiting for them.

It was entertaining to watch Shirase and Yuan interact. They bickered like siblings. Chuuya didn’t even feel the need to add into the conversation. He was perfectly content to just sit there and observe them, enjoying his dinner. Tonight’s main course was a saucy Japanese curry, and Chuuya was struggling to avoid making a mess, an effort that went mostly in vain and left him wiping off his tray and the table when he was done.

“Here, you missed a spot.” Shirase reached over and moved his thumb across Chuuya’s face, just under his lip. “There you go.” The two of them grinned at each other, blushing.

“Oooooooooooh…” Yuan cooed, looking at the two.

Shirase chuckled, standing up to clear his plate. “See you in the morning, Chuuya.”

Chuuya sat at the table for a while longer, basking in the onslaught of feelings.

— — — — —

When Chuuya got back to his dorm room, Dazai looked considerably more… alive than he had when they separated. He was hunched over at his desk, holding a book in one hand and cradling a bowl of cold soba with the other. He looked up when Chuuya entered. “What’s with the face?”

“What the fuck do you mean? My face is fine!”

“You look like a tomato. Or a baby. Maybe both. Actually, no, a tomato baby sounds scary, and you just look like a puppy.”

“Shut up! I don’t look like a puppy, I’m sixteen!”

“Sure, puppy.” Dazai turned back to his book, slurping loudly on his soba.

Chuuya grumbled. “You better not be obnoxious. I have so much fucking homework for Fukuzawa that I need to get done as soon as humanly possible, and if you turn out to be a problem I will beat your ass.” He sat back at his desk and reached for Fukuzawa’s pile of papers.

“Silly puppy. I am as quiet as a mouse. You wouldn’t even know I was here if I hadn’t greeted you when you came in.”

Chuuya ignored him, trying to put all his focus into the work in front of him.

Oh.

Jesus Christ.

How was he supposed to get all of this done in two weeks? Fukuzawa had given him thirty-two pages of work, and none of it was easy. Chuuya flipped through the pages, hoping that maybe the first couple assignments were outliers and it wasn’t all that bad, but each new assignment proved him wrong.

This was going to be a long two weeks.

Chuuya set out to work, trying to get as much done as possible before he went to bed.

— — — — —

Chuuya did not, in fact, go to bed. He didn’t mean to stay up all night. If he had been paying attention, he would have tapped out and gone to bed when Dazai did around 1.

He wasn’t paying attention. He didn’t even realize his mistake until his alarm went off.

How the hell was it 6:30 already? He was so tired yesterday. He was assuming at a certain point, he would nod off or something, get some sort of rest as his body tried to recover from his nightmare. He wasn’t so lucky.

He looked down at the work in front of him.

Wait, how was he only on page three?

He tried to ignore the seeds of panic taking root in his chest. How did a teacher like Fukuzawa wind up at a school like this? This was going to be hard.

Chuuya sighed, rubbing his eyes and trying to collect himself. He stood up and headed to the bathroom to brush his teeth and try to make himself presentable for the day. It didn’t really work, but he was too tired to care. He trudged back to his room to put on his uniform.

“You look like shit.” Dazai peered down at him, an unreadable expression across his face.

“Thanks.” Chuuya wormed his way into his uniform, opting for a pair of black platform Converse. They were easy to put on, and more comfortable than his other shoes. He sat down at his desk, staring blankly at the pile of work homework atop it until the bell rang and padding out the door.

— — — — —

“You okay?” Yuan looked at him across the table in the cafeteria.

“Huh? Oh, yeah, I just didn’t get too much sleep last night. Fukuzawa’s make-up work is a bitch.” Chuuya shrugged, trying to reassure his new friend.

— — — — —

The morning flew by, and Chuuya felt like a passive observer as he went about his classes. He was thinking about how he could get this goddamn homework done.

Lunch. He could use his lunch break to get some work done, maybe catch a quick nap if he manages to be productive. He wasn’t hungry, anyway.

“Where are you going? The cafeteria is this way.” Shirase and Chuuya walked out of today’s miscellaneous therapy (art therapy, if his mind isn’t deceiving him).

“I’m gonna head to my room, try to get some work done. I have snacks in there.” It was a partial truth. Dazai kept food in their fridge all the time. If he really needed something, he would take it and deal with his roommate’s wrath later.

“Alright. Take care of yourself.” Shirase took Chuuya’s hand, giving it a quick squeeze before parting ways with the boy and heading off to lunch.

Dazai was sitting in their room when Chuuya got there, a look of annoyance on his face.

“Are you gonna be in here all the time now? I eat lunch in here a lot, because usually no one else is here.” He cast a pointed glare at Chuuya. Chuuya didn’t care.

“Sucks to suck. It’s my room too.” Chuuya sat down at his desk, grabbing his pen and starting to scribble furiously.

He didn’t even finish the page.

How the hell? Lunch was an hour long. He didn’t believe it when he heard the bell chime, staring at his watch in disbelief. He could feel the anxiety that had been festering all day start to pick up its pace.

Dazai had moved to his bunk when Chuuya headed out to his afternoon classes. “Good luck.”

Chuuya glanced back at the brunette. “You should leave too. You’re gonna be late.”

Dazai shook his head. “Nah. I have Kouyou in fifteen minutes. Worry about yourself, puppy.”

Chuuya bristled at the nickname but walked out and headed to class.

— — — — —

The rest of the day passed uneventfully. Chuuya got assigned a little more math homework. He wasn’t gonna do it. All he could think about was the project he was going to have when he got back to his room. Could he get away with skipping dinner too? He didn’t feel hungry at all. Really, he felt nauseous, but he pushed the feeling away. One time, last school year, he didn’t eat for three days because of midterms. It sucked afterward, but it wasn’t that bad. Now he was using it as his reasoning for not eating. Perspective is everything, he supposed.

Dazai wasn’t in the room when he got back. It was peaceful, but a little unnerving. Dazai’s presence was kind of nice, sometimes. His roommate made it easier to stay out of his head.

Chuuya sat down at his desk, sticking a piece of gum into his mouth as a sort of focus aid and got to work. He didn’t even notice when the dinner bell rang. The first thing to draw his attention away from his work was the door opening. Dazai strolled into the room, holding a tray from dinner. He walked over to the ginger, precariously holding the tray in one hand and pushing the papers to the side before setting the tray in front of Chuuya.

“What the fuck? I was working.” How dare he? Chuuya was on a roll.

Dazai didn’t care. “Hawthorne was happy to see me. Eat.” He picked up Chuuya’s hand, shoving a pair of chopsticks into his palm. “I’ll bring your dishes back when you’re done, you won’t have to go anywhere or anything. The staff here doesn’t take kindly to passing out and dying.”

Chuuya tried to argue, but… he was right. Plus, Dazai being nice? This was unheard of, and he wanted to take advantage of it. Reluctantly, spat out the gum into his trash can and ate some of the food in front of him. Not a lot, he was still horribly nauseous, but some. Once Dazai seemed to be satisfied, he pushed the tray to the side, starting back on his work. Dazai pulled a take-out container out of the minifridge and sat down at his desk to eat.

— — — — —

It was dark outside when Chuuya’s attention left his work once more. He was thirsty, and the words on the paper in front of him were beginning to blur together. Maybe a quick break and some water would fix both those problems.

He grabbed a water bottle from the minifridge. Technically, they were Dazai’s, and Dazai seemed like he was asleep with his headphones in, but he doubted his roommate was going to get too upset about this particular transgression. He sat down at his desk once more, uncapping the water and preparing to take a sip when-

He blinked.

He froze.

The open water bottle slipped from his hand as he leaned to take a sip off the top.

He sat there, frozen. How could he freeze at a time like this?

All Chuuya could do was sit there, hand outstretched as though he still held the bottle, as the bottle dropped onto his desk, tipping onto his work. All he could do was watch as the water started dripping off his desk, the ink on his papers beginning to bleed.

He let his wrist go limp, sending droplets of water into the air as it splashed into the puddle.

He couldn’t breathe.

He had finished three more pages of work. It had taken him six hours that night. It was around two in the morning, but he had gotten so much done.

He couldn’t breathe, and he was on the floor, hands shaking in front of his face as his knees pulled up to his chest.

He couldn’t breathe, and he-

He was going to be sick.

He barely made it to his trash can on time before the meager contents of his stomach started spilling out of his mouth. He felt so pathetic, with rapid, hyperventilating sobs escaping between retches as his mind returned over and over to the ink spreading across the papers on his desk. He was going to have to redo it all and all the effort he had already put in had gone to waste and-

His vision was starting to go black around the edges, but he felt a pressure against his shoulder as he heaved over the trash can. Warm pressure, like a hand. He felt the hand turn his body, moving the trash can to keep it in front of him as they leaned Chuuya’s torso against the wall. He didn’t like how helpless he felt, how vulnerable, but his mind felt like it was floating away and out of his head, and he couldn’t muster the willpower to fight back.

It took all his conscious energy to look up, meeting the soft brown eyes of the person squatting in front of him.

Dazai looked down at him, that look of uncharacteristic concern making another appearance on his face. Chuuya felt bad for making him wake up at this hour to the disgusting sight again. The thought added to the gushing river of panic and shame in his head. His breath hitched again, and a choking sob escaped, then another. His face was wet with tears. He leaned forward once more, retching into the trash can in between his legs when one of Dazai’s hands intertwined with one of his, squeezing it slightly.

“Chuuya, you’re panicking. I need you to take a deep breath. Breathe with me.” Dazai takes a breath in, modeling the motion for Chuuya to follow.

“I can’t, I need- I have to get this done, and it’s all gone now, and-”

Dazai cut him off. “I know, but that’s not the problem right now, Chuuya. Breathe with me.”

Chuuya tried to follow, he really did, but in between gasping breaths he made the mistake of glancing up at his desk in an attempt to get away from Dazai’s piercing gaze, and he lost it again, dry heaving into the trash can in front of him as his body tried to push the problem out of his body.

Dazai saw this and moved to Chuuya’s side, pulling the ginger’s face into his chest so close he could hear the taller boy’s heart beating in his chest. “Don’t look at it, you need to breathe.” He wrapped an arm around Chuuya’s torso, scooting himself in so the smaller boy was almost sitting in his lap on the floor.

The feeling of touch helped pull Chuuya out of his head. He tried to breathe with Dazai once more, fighting to get his bearings as he felt the panic subsiding in his chest, his breaths becoming steadier and deeper. He shuddered slightly, leaning into Dazai’s embrace.

The two of them sat there for a while. Chuuya doesn’t know how long. He was still trying to steady himself, Dazai’s hand rubbing up and down his side soothingly.

His voice came out much smaller than he wanted it to. “I ruined it all, and it was so hard, and I don’t have enough time, and- What am I gonna do?”

“I don’t know, but thinking about it now isn’t gonna make anything better. Let’s go to the bathroom so you can clean yourself up.” Dazai spoke with alarming clarity and calmness, which made Chuuya feel like he was a beast to be tamed. He nodded slowly, and Dazai helped him stand up, grabbing his lanyard off the wall as the two of them headed to the bathroom.

— — — — —

Dazai leaned against the wall of bathroom stalls, watching Chuuya as he splashed water on his face to clear off the dried tear tracks. Chuuya didn’t like how the taller boy felt obligated to stand there and watch him like he was a toddler, but he had to admit it was easier to keep himself present and grounded with his roommate around.

“You ready to go back?”

Chuuya nodded and the two of them made the trek back to their dorm room. Getting back, they saw the mess Chuuya had made. Inky water dripped off of his desk, and his trash can reeked. Chuuya sighed deeply, too tired to get worked up again.

Dazai looked over at the ginger, meeting his gaze. “If you handle the trash can, I’ll go get paper towels to mop up the water, okay?” Chuuya felt bad making his roommate solve his problems, especially at two in the morning, but he got the sense Dazai wasn’t going to let him handle this on his own, so he relented and gave a small nod.

The two of them worked in tandem, completing their tasks. Chuuya tied the top of the trash bag, heading out to toss it into the larger trash bin in the hall. When he got back to the room, Dazai was hard at work wiping water off the desk. Chuuya went to sit on his bed. He hated leaving Dazai to do all the work by himself, but he was still pretty shaky, and he would feel even worse if he tried to help and ended up messing things up further. He sat there, looking at the floor and zoning out in the comfortable silence.

He didn’t even notice Dazai walking over to him until he felt a weight press into the bed next to him. He met Dazai’s eyes, and the brunette held out a bottle of water.

“You were thirsty when you stopped working, plus you just hurled. You’re probably at least a little dehydrated.”

Chuuya accepted the bottle, uncapping it and maintaining an almost white-knuckle grip as he took a sip. “Thanks… for everything.”

Dazai smiled, a softer smile than his usual shit-eating grin. “I’m gonna go to bed. Try to get some sleep, you can talk with the teachers in the morning. Do not try to do more work, or I will hit you, puppy.” With that, he stood up, crawling up the ladder to his bunk.

Chuuya sighed. After some deliberation, he decided to heed Dazai’s advice. About to lay down in his bed, he realized he had yet to change out of his uniform. He hastily swapped out his clothes for pajamas and laid down.

He was asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

Notes:

YAAAAAAY CHAPTER 5

CW summary:

Chuuya accidentally spills a bunch of water on his work, ruining it and sending him into a panicked and nauseous frenzy. Dazai comes down to pull him out of it, and they do some epic breathing and cuddling? whooooa

see yall next chapter hope you liked a wee bit of angst and a wee bit of fluff :3

patheticlittlemeowmeowman out

Chapter 6

Summary:

Chuuya meets Kouyou. Therapy ensues. Literally.

Notes:

YA BOI IS BACK

okay im sorry i didnt update anything for like a month but in my defense i never said i was GONNA

anyway ya boi is back (for at least one update) (i still do find this fic fun tho so you can expect more at some point, hopefully)

SLIGHT TW for dissociation, its not in all that much detail but it does happen

Chuuya was disoriented when his alarm went off. As far as he was aware, he didn’t dream, but he refused to believe the… events of last night actually happened. He looked around the room groggily, trying to spot some clear sign that something occurred, but he and Dazai were thorough in cleaning up.

He could hear a groan from the bunk above him as Dazai sat up, peeking his head off the side. “Get your alarm to shut up,” he grumbled before going limp and throwing himself back onto his pillow.

Chuuya appreciated his roommate’s normal behavior after last night. When Chuuya had rough nights at home, Rimbaud would tiptoe around him, face filled with pity, like his foster son was a rabid animal needing to be tamed. Chuuya hated it. Dazai’s nonchalance was a nice change of pace.

Chuuya crawled out of bed, smacking his alarm to shut it off before preparing for the day. He pulled on his uniform, tossing his old one from last night into his laundry hamper. He glanced into the mirror as he was getting ready. His hair was disheveled, and his eyes were impressively puffy, framed with swollen red and dark circles. He grimaced. The reminder of last night was not particularly welcome. He ran a comb through his ginger locks.

“Why do you keep it cut like that?”

Dazai peered over the top of his bunk’s guardrails, eyes barely visible under his mop of brunette hair. Chuuya startled slightly. Dazai knew how to be quiet when he wanted to be.

“What’s it to you, asshole? I like it!”

“That hack-job of a haircut isn’t something anyone winds up with intentionally. No one who’s sane, at least. Although, to be fair, winding up here isn’t exactly a shining review for your sanity. Did you make out with a raccoon or something?”

“What the fuck? No! I just…” Chuuya paused, taking a moment to mull over if this was a conversation worth having with his disaster of a roommate. “One of my old foster homes was super strict about my appearance and stuff, and ever since then, I don’t really want it to be neat or anything. When it’s like this, it feels more like… mine.”

Dazai stared at him, eyebrows raised in a look of understanding. “So, teenage dirtbag. Got it. Typical story around here. You’ve seen Atsushi’s hair. And Akutagawa’s hair. And… most of these kids’ hair, actually.”

Chuuya glared at the brunette.

“Go on then, ta-ta. Don’t let little old me make you late~” Dazai almost sang.

Chuuya scoffed before slinging his bag over his shoulder and heading out to breakfast.

— — — — —

Chuuya sat in the health office as Nurse Yosano reached around in the cabinet for his meds. Just as she handed him the cup, the door swung open and a certain insufferable boy made his presence known by standing in the doorway dramatically, posing with his hands on his hips as if waiting to be regarded.

Yosano didn’t even give Dazai a glance as she sighed and turned back to the cabinet, fishing around for his morning doses without saying a word. Dazai held his pose for a couple seconds before giving up and slumping into a chair near Chuuya.

“Hurry up Yosano! Chuuya walks slow, and I need to be first into Odasaku’s class. I have a reputation to uphold!” He crossed his arms and sat expectantly after the last sentence, waiting for the nurse to sympathize with his plight.

Yosano glanced back at the boys, a look of almost weary annoyance on her face as she strolled back over with Dazai’s meds. “Dazai, I didn’t care about that the first time you ever came to me for meds. What reason have I given that could possibly convince you this time would be any different?”

Dazai huffed. “Worth a shot.” He downed his pills with practiced efficiency. “Come on, Chuuya, we need to hustle!”

Chuuya shook his head. “I have Kouyou today. I need to go find where her office is.”

Dazai shrugged. “Good luck!” He stood up and almost skipped out of the room, unceremoniously slamming the door behind him.

Yosano looked at the shorter boy, a knowing look on her face. “Has he been treating you alright? You look tired, more so than usual, and he’s not really known for being personable.”

Chuuya looked up at her, mind flashing back to the events of last night. “He’s been okay. He’s… strange, sure, but I’ve had worse. I’m dealing with it.”

“That’s good to hear, I suppose. Do you need directions to Kouyou’s office?”

“Nah, it’s okay, I got a tour on the first day I was here. I can figure it out from there.” With that, he waved Kouyou goodbye and stepped out of the health office.

The walk to the therapists’ offices wasn’t all that bad. Kunikida had led him through there during his tour, so all he had left to do was figure out which one was Kouyou’s.

That task turned out to be much easier than he anticipated. Each of the offices had its own fancy little nameplate, and all he had to do was find the one bearing Kouyou’s name. He walked up to the door, knocking on it before standing back.

The handle turned and the door swung open, revealing a tall, rather imposing lady. Her hair was done up into a neat bun, and layers upon layers of fabric were draped across her body in shades of red and pink, banded together with a white and maroon ribbon around her waist.

“You must be Chuuya. Come in.” She spoke softly and calmly, stepping out of the doorway and ushering the boy into the room. The office was small but comfortable, with plush armchairs and a fluffy rug giving the room a cozy feel. On a coffee table sat a box of tissues, a lifeline for the poor crying children who sat in the chair before him. Chuuya made a pact to himself to never have to use them. He took a seat in the armchair, its tall back making him feel a tad smaller than he would have liked. The woman sat in the chair across from him.

Chuuya had never been a particularly large fan of therapy. Rimbaud had put him through a handful of people, never to much avail. Sitting in a confined office, spilling your thoughts and feelings as a stranger psychoanalyzes you, the whole experience didn’t appeal to Chuuya. He was doing alright. Last night was just a fluke.

“Alright Chuuya. How are you settling into the Academy?”

Chuuya shrugged. It felt a little early to tell the woman about what’s been going on.

“I do hope the other students have been treating you nicely. How are your classes going?”

…Wow.

She’s getting right into it, huh?

Chuuya fought to keep his reaction off his face. He didn’t want to talk about it all, and if she picked up on an issue, she was going to dig until he cracked. He didn’t have the energy to have that conversation. Maybe someday, when he could get a full night of sleep, they could chat. Today is not that day.

He shrugged again, maintaining an air of nonchalance. “They’re okay. I have a little extra catch-up work, but I missed a month, so I’m not surprised, and I’m not worried about making the deadline or anything.” She didn’t mean to let the last sentence slip, but hopefully the woman wouldn’t catch it.

He was not so lucky.

“Have you had problems with deadlines in the past?” She maintained eye contact, and Chuuya tried to slink away from the intensity of it all, sinking further into the armchair.

“Not really. I just don’t like doing more work than I have to.”

Kouyou perked up on that last comment. “I would think all the work assigned to you is “work you have to do,” is that an incorrect assumption?”

“No, I get that, it’s just…” Chuuya tried to organize his thoughts, arranging the words in an order that wouldn’t make him come across as conceited, or worse. “When I already understand something, and I have to keep doing work on it, it feels almost unnecessary, you know.”

Kouyou nodded. “I see. Do you typically have issues understanding the topics you are learning about?”

Finally, an easy question to answer. “Nope, never.”

“Have you ever had to consciously put effort into grasping academic concepts?”

“Nah. It’s always been pretty easy. I don’t even have to study for tests, usually, and I do pretty well.” He paused. “I know that’s going to come back and bite me later, when things get hard, but in the meantime, it just feels like a waste of time to put in more than I need, you know?”

Kouyou looked at him for a moment. “That’s fair. I’m assuming your classes have yet to present you with any real challenge?”

“Yeah,” Chuuya responded quickly.

“Very well. That’s to be expected with the first month of school. Are you interested in supplemental materials, something more to work ahead on? We can get that for you.”

Chuuya almost laughed. “Nope, nothing more. I’m not becoming a mathematician or anything, and I don’t want to do extra work just for the sake of doing it.”

Kouyou smiled a bit at that. “We have just met, and I can already tell you are very bright, Chuuya. I’m willing to bet you could become a mathematician if it interests you.”

“Why would I want to become a mathematician? That sounds like a lot of work, and pretty damn boring.” He tried to temporarily dam his flow of obscenities when around authority figures, but sometimes a word or two would slip by. Kouyou didn’t seem like the type of person to mind.

“Is there something else you’re interested in pursuing?”

The boy thought for a minute. “I dunno.”

“Are you interested in pursuing higher education?”

This conversation was becoming less and less fun by the second. Chuuya could feel himself beginning to mentally check out. All he offered Kouyou was a shrug in response.

— — — — —

Chuuya exited that office resolute in his idea that therapy was not for him. He knew himself perfectly fine. There wasn’t anything Kouyou could tell him that he hadn’t already figured out for himself. He had carefully constructed all the walls he put up, and they were serving their purpose as intended. He could deal with unpacking all that later, when he wasn’t stuck in school.

The bell to second period rang as he stepped out. Shit. That meant he had to go to Fukuzawa now, didn’t it?

He took a deep breath, steeling himself for what was to come before trudging over to the classroom.

To his overwhelming relief, Fukuzawa did not come up and grill him about his progress on catch-up work. Frankly, he felt a little silly about assuming it would happen, but it was a real enough possibility that he had to keep it in mind, just to have a convincing lie in his back pocket in case he needed to divert attention.

As class concluded, Shirase strolled over to him, a somewhat confused look on his face.

“What have you been up to? I feel like I haven’t seen you in days.”

Chuuya appreciated the opportunity to pull himself out of his head. “Homework. I’ll see you after art therapy today, okay? I need to go take care of something.”

“Alright. Take care of yourself.” Shirase glanced around before leaning in to plant another quick kiss on Chuuya’s cheek, smiling at the ginger’s blush as he walked away.

— — — — —

Chuuya felt a little bad about lying to Shirase, but he didn’t really have it in him to care at the moment. His visit with Kouyou had left him feeling sort of… he couldn’t really find the words to describe it. Floaty? Spacey? Whatever it was, he didn’t like it. He didn’t like how he felt as if he was stuck inside his brain, watching the things he did like a shitty movie theater. He just wanted to go lay down.

He made his way back to his room, fumbling with the key as he let himself in. Dazai sprawled across his bed, head hanging off the bunk like a ragdoll. Chuuya paid him no mind, kicking off his shoes and flinging himself onto his bunk.

“What, I don’t get a greeting?”

“Leave me alone. I’m tired.” Chuuya didn’t know if he was really tired, per se, but he sure as hell wanted this conversation to end, and saying he was tired usually did the trick.

Dazai took the hint, and the two boys entered a state of comfortable silence as Chuuya retreated back into his head.

Notes:

yaaaaay you did it

for the record therapy is awesome and i would totally recommend it, but is it really an angsty fic if the author isnt using their writing to bring old middle school nihilistic tendencies to life

anyway IF YOU HAVE OTHER FUN LIL PROMPTS OR ANYTHING PLEASE DROP A COMMENT SO MAYBE I WILL HAVE OTHER THINGS FOR YOU ALL TO SNACK ON IN BETWEEN CHAPTERS it doesnt even have to be bsd i am a multifaceted human being capable of many things but im BORED and need to WRITE

anyway catch yall on the flip side patheticlittlemeowmeowman out

Chapter 7: Dazai takes the mic!

Summary:

It was no secret to Dazai that his roommate was going through it. The issue presented itself when his flimsy little conscience decided to bombard him with the urge to do something about it.

Notes:

HEY YALL YOU GET A DAZAI CHAPTER (and this motherfucker is CHATTY so enjoy some apostrophe out the wazoo) (epic english class reference with apostrophe there, thank you very much)

dont expect this very often but chuuya aint doing well enough to narrate his own story so the other motherfuckers gotta pick up his slack

is he out of character? probably. is this part gonna flow smoothly like i try to make chuuya's chapters flow? FUCK no. are you gonna read it anyway? hopefully.

anyway emotionally prepare yourself for some fucking walls of text because i like to hear myself talk and dazai sure as hell does as well (he is literally me)

TWs: depiction of violent nervous breakdown, mention of overdose, non-consensual administration of sedative medication (IF YOU ARE SENSITIVE TO DEPICTIONS OF BREAKDOWNS THIS IS REALLY NOT THE CHAPTER FOR YOU. I LEFT A SUMMARY IN THE BOTTOM NOTES)

For whatever reason, Dazai had forgotten that the Yokohama Academy for the Development of Adolescents was a school for troubled kids. He was a troubled kid, that fact hadn’t been up for debate since the introduction of complex thought to his measly little existence, but the kids at this school were so dead set on maintaining a facade of normalcy that it was easy to let the reality of how abysmally fucked up all of them were slip your mind. His little roommate was no different. Dazai’s sure that if he put the time in, he could dig around in the chibi’s little brain enough to find some sort of distinct personality in there, but right now, the kid was closed off and locked away like some sort of fucked-up bank vault. Even now, on the incredibly obvious verge of a full-out breakdown, the kid couldn’t manage to get the stick out of his ass long enough to reach out and ask someone for help. Dazai could smell the stubbornness on Chuuya when he first showed up, bag in hand and a scowl plastered across his face, probably intended to scare Dazai off (a strategy that would hold significantly more merit if the kid wasn’t pocket-sized with a remarkable baby face). 

 

The question bouncing around in Dazai’s head wasn’t even about Chuuya. There were very few mysteries to be unveiled with that kid, as much as the ginger would like to believe he was suave and mysterious with his goofy little haircut and artificial stoicism. What Dazai was asking himself was, why in the nine hells of Armageddon did he give two shits about Nakahara Chuuya? 

 

… 

 

This kid wasn’t anything special, especially not at the Academy, a school specifically designed for people at rock bottom. If Dazai possessed any sick fantasies about fixing someone and changing their life, all he would have to do is step outside and grab the nearest student, and an opportunity would eagerly present itself for the claiming. Dazai did not, in fact, possess these fantasies. He derived his joy simply by people-watching, passively observing the events of the day with only the occasional poke in an attempt to stir the metaphorical pot. The kids around him were all highly reactive elements, and all it took was the slightest catalyst for shit to get real. (Dazai wholeheartedly despised the fact that his internal monologue included a chemistry joke, for the record. It was about as pleasant of an experience for him as it would be to have heard from someone else.) The crowd around him provided ample entertainment without having to commit himself to one project.

 

So why in the hell did he care about this pipsqueak laying on the bunk below him? Was it because they were roommates? Dazai doubted that. From what he had observed with his classmates, sharing a room with someone is about as detrimental to a relationship as it is possible for something to be. Was it because he showed up late in the school year? Dazai was dragged to the Academy halfway through his first semester of freshman year, coming off of an overdose and stuck one-on-one with a staff member so he couldn’t try anything. By comparison, Chuuya’s arrival was incredibly tame, easy even. Sure, he was brutally assaulted by a hairbrush within fifteen minutes of introduction, but the chibi’s violent tendencies were bound to crop up eventually. 

 

Dazai’s introspection was rudely interrupted when the bell chimed through the hall. He leaned over and peered off his bunk just in time to watch Chuuya whack his head as he sat up, freezing for a second out of what seemed to be shock before sighing deeply and muttering a remarkably profane stream of curses, standing up and running his hands over his uniform in an unsuccessful attempt to remove the wrinkles pushed into his blazer. 

 

The silence in the room was palpable. Why did Dazai have to market himself as the sarcastic, quirky one who always has something to say? He would have to put some thought into adjusting his image. Chuuya wasn’t going to say anything unprompted, so Dazai would have to step up and show interest.

 

“Where are you headed?” Dazai offered somewhat lamely. He wasn’t proud of it, but Chuuya wasn’t in the kind of mood where he would offer anything entertaining.

 

Chuuya shrugged. “Class. Bye.” He grabbed his bag and lanyard before heading out the door, leaving Dazai alone to contemplate once more. 

 

And contemplate, he did. 

 

What was he going to do about this kid? 

 

As far as he can tell, two real options presented themselves. He could try and casually talk to Chuuya about how strange he’s acting. The problem with that is that Chuuya is currently wound up like a sort of fucked-up emotional jack-in-the-box, but instead of nicely popping out of a box, he would start screaming and swinging fists like a mental breakdown Beyblade. The little ginger wouldn’t be able to do any real damage, but any bruises Dazai can afford to avoid should be avoided at all cost. He could try and approach the situation kindly, but honestly, Chuuya would probably react even worse to that. Dazai’s seen kids in these situations before, and if he starts behaving too unusually, Chuuya’s gonna feel like an object of pity and flip out even more. When you’re struggling and someone you don’t really know tries to approach you and offer assistance, it feels like everyone in the world is watching you, like you’re some sort of injured animal unable to fend for itself. 

 

The other option is to just… wait, he guessed. It didn’t feel like a particularly good option, but to be honest, Chuuya already seemed pretty damn close to his breaking point. If the ginger was going to lose his mind if anyone reached out to help, letting him hit his limit might genuinely be the path of least resistance. Frankly, Dazai had been operating under the assumption that Chuuya’s little late-night panic attack would’ve been the peak of this situation, but he has since been proven wrong. Should he go to staff? No, Chuuya would never forgive him, and their rooming situation doesn’t accommodate for bad blood between the two of them. Maybe he could talk to Odasaku, but ask him to mention it as though it was something he observed on his own? That seemed like a cop-out of sorts, but at least he would- 

 

The door to Dazai’s room opened loudly, slamming into the wall and rattling its hinges. Dazai could do nothing but stare in a sort of awe as his roommate stormed in, hunched over slightly and breathing heavily with a look of unbridled rage across his face. He slammed the door shut behind him and walked over to his desk, grabbing a drawer and flinging it open.

 

“I forgot my fucking pencil,” Chuuya spat.

 

Good lord. All that fanfare over a pencil? Dazai wasn’t entirely sure what Chuuya did to get sent here, but the kid’s temper was tangible, and his current outburst was certainly filling in some blanks. It was almost impressive how the ginger’s attempts at a stoic facade went absolutely flying out the window when he was stressed and facing a minor inconvenience. Dazai chuckled to himself as he made a mental note to crack a joke about his temper later, when it wasn’t going to get him socked in the jaw.

 

Chuuya turned to look at him, and his eyes widened, an almost inhuman look of fury taking over his features as he stared at Dazai.

 

Oh.

 

Oh god .

 

Dazai just chuckled out loud , didn’t he?

 

Chuuya was so angry he was about to throw hands over a pencil, and Dazai just laughed . 

 

His roommate stood there for a few seconds, just staring daggers into Dazai’s eyes without moving. Then, he chuckled. It wasn’t even a full chuckle, really, just the corner of his mouth quirking up slightly as he forced an exhale through his nose. He stood still for a couple seconds more. Dazai had to admit, there was virtually nothing that could really scare him, but right now, Chuuya got pretty close. There was this tangible pressure in the air, like the roof was collapsing and trying to take the two of them down with it.

 

Chuuya looked over at his desk, placing his hands on the back of his desk chair and tipping his head forward, letting his bangs fall in front of his face as he leaned onto the chair. 

 

Then, in one sweep of movement, he flung the chair to the ground. It hit the carpet with a thump, and Chuuya continued to stand, his bangs still obscuring his eyes. 

 

Then, he screamed.

 

He screamed, and he reached into the desk drawer, still open from his search, before yanking on it and throwing it to the ground. It bounced with another thump, the pens and supplies it contained flying around the room.

 

Chuuya kept screaming.

 

Oh fuck .

 

What had Dazai done?

 

Chuuya screamed, and he turned to his desk chair, laid out across the ground. He lifted his foot high, and stomped on it, cracking the back piece and breaking the chair in two.

 

Okay. Dazai had to get out of Chuuya’s way. He had to get Odasaku, some teacher, someone , but if he turned his back to open the door, Chuuya was going to hit him, and he couldn’t defend himself.

 

The call button. Every room had one installed, sitting about eighteen inches away from the light switch. That light switch sat across the room, between Dazai and one rampaging Chuuya. 

 

Chuuya was now jumping up and down on the chair, covering the plush surfaces with shoeprints and cracking the plastic in pieces. Dazai took his preoccupation as an opportunity to sneak past him, pressing his back against the desk as he tried to maintain maximum space. He managed to get past Chuuya, the shorter boy now deeming the chair appropriately crushed (but still screaming his lungs out).

 

He snuck over to the button, and brought his hand up to press it.

 

beep~

 

…

 

In theory, it made sense that the button should make noise. In most situations, it would probably be good to have some confirmation that the call went through.

 

This was not one of those situations.

 

Chuuya’s head snapped up to look at Dazai and the button, that rage still visible in his eyes as his bangs flipped back, revealing his face. Without hesitating, the boy reached onto his bed, grabbing a pillow and booking it over to Dazai. He never stopped screaming. Dazai will have to compliment his lung capacity later. Really he should take up singing or-

 

Chuuya’s pillow made contact with his face, slamming the back of his head into the wall. His vision flashed a bright white light, and his head started throbbing. He tried to recoil, but his head was shoved against the wall, Chuuya’s hands pushing the pillow into his face.

 

Dazai couldn’t breathe.

 

He could feel the smaller boy repeatedly jam his knee into Dazai’s side, sending jolts of pain across his ribs. That’s gonna leave a bruise.

 

He couldn’t breathe . 

 

He needed to do something now, or Chuuya was going to kill him, and his death was going to hurt. Somehow, that last realization was what steeled Dazai enough to fight back against the ginger hurricane currently pinning him to the wall.

 

Dazai pulled his knee up, putting some space between his and Chuuya’s bodies. He needed to get some room to move. Once his knee pushed Chuuya’s body out of the way, he pushed his knee against the wall, using his leg and hands to push himself away from the wall and on top of Chuuya. He definitely weighed more, and that might be the only advantage he has, so you bet your ass he was going to make use of it as hastily as possible. The boys slammed to the ground, Chuuya’s pillow flying to the side as he collapsed onto the floor. 

 

Chuuya was winded for a moment. Dazai took the opportunity to grab onto his wrists, pinning them to his shoulders and adjusting his weight to sit on top of the other boy. Chuuya started kicking and screaming once more, sending his knee into Dazai’s back, and it really fucking hurt , but Dazai held strong.

 

The door creaked open, and the boys’ attention turned to the figure in the doorway. It looked like Odasaku, but Dazai’s vision was still blurry, so he wasn’t entirely-

 

Chuuya took advantage of Dazai’s momentary distraction, using his body weight to shove Dazai to the side. As Dazai landed, he felt the smaller boy let the punches roll. He was still screaming bloody murder. He felt things momentarily ease up, and looked up to see Odasaku trying to lift Chuuya off him. He saw Chuuya fling his head back into Odasaku’s face, the blow landing with a nauseating crunch. Odasaku fell backward, grunting as he slammed into the leg of Chuuya’s desk. Chuuya continued his onslaught. Dazai was going to have to change his strategy.

 

He brought his hands up, shielding his neck as he took a deep breath.

 

“Chuuya!” He said it as loud as he could, hopefully making it across Chuuya’s incessant screaming and into his ears. 

 

Chuuya paused for a moment, his face turning to fully look at Dazai. Dazai flung himself forward, pushing Chuuya’s shoulders into the wall.

 

“Chuuya, stop hitting me. You need to calm down. Chuuya.” He repeated his name as much as possible, trying to keep the boy’s attention on his words. “Take a deep breath.”

 

Chuuya struggled a bit, but Dazai had him pretty firmly pinned against the wall, so he was just sort of wriggling miserably, his screaming subsiding into loud grunts. 

 

“Chuuya, look at me.” The boy’s objective had changed, from trying to annihilate Dazai to trying to get free. “Chuuya, I will let go, but you need to calm down.” Chuuya’s movement slowed, and he looked at Dazai’s face, his expression morphing from rage to horror.

 

Dazai took his hands off Chuuya’s shoulders. The ginger sat there for a moment, his breathing beginning to quicken. 

Jeez.

 

“Chuuya, I’m going to touch you now. Take a deep breath.” Dazai pulled the smaller boy toward him, adjusting his position so the two of them were sitting on the floor, Chuuya almost sitting in his lap as Dazai wrapped his arms around him. In between his huffs of breath, Chuuya tried to speak.

 

“Da- Dazai, I’m so so- sorry, Dazai,” The boy began to sob, pushing his face into Dazai’s chest, wrapping his arms around to grip the back of his roommate’s shirt with both hands. He squeezed Dazai tightly. The taller boy could feel his short breaths through his shirt. 

 

The two of them sat there for a few seconds. Dazai could see Odasaku standing up and beginning to walk over. Dazai shook his head as aggressively as he could without disturbing the boy pressed into his shoulder. This was not a good idea. Chuuya had just settled down enough to chill out with the punching. If Odasaku tried to touch him now, it would all start again.

 

A new figure walked into the door, one of the big security guards who walked around campus, serving as human shields against the occasional onslaught of violence. His timing was impeccable. Truly. 

 

The guard looked in and saw what Dazai could only assume was a gruesome sight. A desk chair was crushed into pieces on the floor, a drawer and its contents were ripped out, a teacher’s nose was broken, and a kid was hyperventilating. 

 

“Dazai, I didn’t mean to, I-” Chuuya hiccuped. 

 

Odasaku tried to reach down and lift Chuuya off of Dazai, but the smaller boy tightened his grip around Dazai’s middle. Dazai continued to shake his head, mouthing “NO” at the teacher. Odasaku sighed.

 

“Chuuya, you need to let go and come with me, okay bud?”

 

Chuuya looked up, that previous rage returning to his eyes. “No, you can’t! I’m gonna-” The boy cut himself off with another hiccup, burying his face into Dazai once more. 

 

Odasaku looked over to the door, where Yosano stood, holding a loaded syringe. Dazai’s blood went cold.

 

“No, don’t, he’s calmed down. That’s really not a good idea.” Dazai shifted his hand to sit on top of Chuuya’s head, trying to ensure he doesn’t look up and flip out when he sees Yosano. “He’s fine now, just give us a minute.”

 

Yosano pulled her finger to her lips, shushing Dazai. “Okay Chuuya, it’s going to be okay, just stay very still for me.”

 

Chuuya’s head whipped back, his eyes darting to the syringe in Yosano’s hand. 

 

“NO!” Dazai closed his eyes, wrapping his arms around Chuuya’s middle and bracing for impact. Chuuya didn’t explode outward, however. He leaned even further into Dazai, shying away from Yosano and making himself as small as possible. 

 

Yosano moved quickly. She pushed Chuuya’s sleeve up, holding his wrist and exposing his forearm. When she grabbed his arm, Chuuya’s eyes went wild, and he scrambled away from Yosano and Dazai, tucking himself into the corner. “NO! YOU CAN’T!” 

 

The security guard began to close in, and Chuuya’s screaming got louder. Dazai turned away, the thought of watching what was about to happen curdling his stomach. He could hear Chuuya’s yelling start to turn to whimpering as he got up and walked over toward Odasaku.

 

When he turned back around, Chuuya was limp in the arms of the security guard, blinking slowly as he looked mournfully at Dazai.

 

“Dazai, I’m so so sorry,” he said as he was taken out of the room.

 

Dazai turned to Odasaku. “Is he going to Iso?” The isolation room was a disgusting little padded room off of the health office. Chuuya was going to lose his mind if he woke up there. 

 

Odasaku nodded. “Probably.” 

 

Time to test his luck. “Can I go with him? Please? I know it’s against protocol or whatever, but I’m not going to classes for the rest of the day anyway, and he’s going to flip when he wakes up, and if I’m there, it will probably be a lot easier-”

 

Odasaku stopped him. “Not right now, kiddo. We’ve got another…” he checked his watch- “six hours, minimum, till he’s up.”

 

“What if I just stay in the health office until then? You’re gonna make me go there anyway, and he’s ginger, and gingers tend to work through sedative really quickly, and-”

 

“You know what? Sure. But only because you’re already headed there. Now walk with me, and we can both get some goddamn medical attention.”

 

Dazai smiled, taking the teacher’s hand as they walked.

Notes:

summary: dazai waxes poetic for a while. chuuya gets up to leave, but he forgets his pencil and comes back in fucking PISSED. dazai accidentally laughs at him, and chuuya loses his shit before eventually people are called in and he gets knocked out

yaaaaaaaay you did it

ps PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD DO NOT TAKE ANYTHING IN THIS AS MENTAL HEALTH ADVICE DAZAI IS A LITERAL TEENAGER WITH NO PSYCHOLOGICAL TRAINING AND HE DOES NOT KNOW HOW TO HANDLE THINGS SAFELY AND PROFESSIONALLY

i love my crusty little genius motherfucker and his gross little self aware perspective on life

can i make the differences in their internal monologues any more gratingly obvious? we shall see!

 

anyway im already crankin out the next chapter cuz im procrastinating my other shit so look out

patheticlittlemeowmeowman out

Chapter 8

Summary:

Chuuya wakes up.

Notes:

okay i know i promised i would pull my schedule together but in my defense I DO NOT GO HOME IM SORRY

this is a pretty mundane chapter! i dont think theres anything i need to add a tw for but if i missed something pleeeease do let me know

anyway enjoy

When Chuuya opened his eyes, he was greeted with an abundance of dull white. His muscles ached, and there was a weird soreness in his throat. He tried to sit up, but the world was spinning, so he abandoned his effort, thudding back onto the bed with a groan. 

 

Wait. 

 

Why was he on a bed?

 

He tried to think back to what had happened before he woke up, but all he could get were fragments. He went to class in the morning, took a nap, and then… something? He had some recollection of a pencil, a broken desk chair, a pillow, and giving Dazai a hug for some reason, but all of it felt like a dream or false memory of some kind.

 

So, how did he wind up here, in a padded room, on a little cot? His uniform blazer and shoes had been taken off, leaving him in just his shirt and slacks. He tried sitting up once more, this time with slightly more success, managing to hoist himself over to the wall and lean against it. Every part of his body felt like lead, and there was a dull ache in his head, and his thoughts felt fuzzy like cotton. Man, he was tired. 

 

The door to the room swung open, and Yosano stepped in. There was an odd look on her face, one of defensive hesitation. Chuuya rocked his head to the side, letting it rest on his shoulder while he looked at the nurse, standing in the doorway. Behind her, he could see into the health office, and- was that Dazai? His roommate was peering in behind Yosano, shifting around in his seat and searching the room. When he made eye contact with Chuuya, he smiled, offering an obnoxiously large wave. Chuuya scoffed and rolled his eyes, but there was some comfort in knowing his roommate was there. He didn’t remember what had happened to put him in this situation, but that idiot’s presence made it easier to ignore the jumbled thoughts running through his head. They made his temples throb and made him sick to his stomach. 

 

Speaking of which, he was super fucking nauseous. He fought back a gag as Yosano walked over to him.

 

“Hello, Chuuya. How are you feeling?”

 

“Like shit. What happened?”

 

Yosano paused for a moment, thinking about her response. “How much do you remember?”

 

“Uh… I remember leaving Fukuzawa’s class?”

 

Yosano raised her eyebrows just slightly, fighting to keep her expression neutral. “Well. Can you describe to me what you are feeling right now?”

 

“Well, everything hurts, and I have a massive headache, and I think I’m gonna puke, and I’m so fucking tired right now. Where am I?” Chuuya could feel the words spilling out without all that much thought, but he didn’t have enough energy to try and organize what he was saying.

 

“Do you need a bin? We can get that for you.” Yosano looked almost relieved by his statement, but she was still choosing her words carefully.

 

“Nah, I’ll be fine. Where am I? You still haven’t said.”

 

Yosano took a deep breath. That wasn’t a good sign. “You are in one of our isolation rooms right now. When a student presents significant physical harm to themself or others, they get brought here.”

 

…

 

Oh .

 

Chuuya’s eyes widened. He had lost it again, hadn’t he?

 

He had lost it, and he had hurt someone, and Dazai is here, so he probably hurt Dazai. Fuck, why would he hurt Dazai? Oh god, and nothing had happened when he threw the hairbrush, so that means he must have done something worse , and-

 

“It’s boring out there, Yosano~” Dazai strolled into the room, gazing at the padded tiles on the walls. 

 

“ Nurse Yosano, Dazai, and I didn’t say you could come in here.”

 

Dazai grinned at her, flashing his undying confidence that this argument had already been won. “What are you gonna do, put me in Iso? Besides, my poor roommate isn’t feeling well, and it would be rude and selfish of me to stand by without offering support!” He walked over to the bed Chuuya was sitting on, turning around and unceremoniously flinging himself backwards into a seated position right next to the smaller boy. 

 

“You little- you know what? I’m picking my battles here.” Yosano shook her head, releasing one of the largest and most exasperated sighs Chuuya had ever heard from a person.

 

Dazai’s shit-eating grin was still plastered across his face. “Akutagawa is waiting out there for you, by the way. He has been for like five minutes. Ta-ta~”

 

Yosano glared at Chuuya’s roommate with a contempt so toxic and hostile it made the ginger question how she managed to wind up working as a nurse for a troubled school. “Fine, Dazai. But this door is staying open, wide open, so don’t do anything you don’t want me or Akutagawa seeing.” With that, she stalked out of the room. Dazai immediately rotated his sitting position, swinging his torso around and pushing his feet against the wall behind him.

 

Chuuya was still trying to grasp the weight of the situation at hand. “This is a school. Why do they have padded rooms at a school?”

 

Dazai shrugged. “A lot of the kids here really only had the Academy or a psych ward as a choice. Everyone’s gotta be prepared.”

 

“I’m not dangerous, though. Padded rooms are for dangerous people.”

 

Dazai’s face flashed an unreadable expression before settling back into a smirk. “Of course you’re not dangerous. Need I remind you of your many puppy-like qualities?”

 

“Shut the fuck up.”

 

“Nah. Have you eaten anything today? I don’t want to deal with hangry Chuuya.” 

 

Chuuya thought about it for a second. He hadn’t eaten since breakfast, no, but paying attention to his stomach presented him with nothing more than a dull nausea. 

 

“I’m not hungry. I’m fucking tired. What time is it?” 

 

Dazai checked his watch. “Quarter to seven.”

 

Wait.

 

What?

 

Chuuya glanced around, trying to find some window he had missed that could prove Dazai wrong. Quarter to seven ? No. He was just in his room, and it was one o’clock at the latest. 

 

Dazai caught on to Chuuya’s disbelief and turned his watch to face the ginger boy. “See for yourself.” Chuuya stared at the watch and, lo and behold, it was 6:47. 

 

“Dazai, what happened?”

 

Dazai’s face flashed that same unreadable expression from before, his brows furrowing ever so slightly before entering a practiced blank look. It was less reassuring than his typical dull smirk. Chuuya didn’t like it quite as much.

 

“Okay, to start, everyone’s okay, and no one got hurt. Well- close enough. It wasn’t that bad.”

 

“What?”

“I mean, Odasaku’s nose got a little bit broken, but he’s fine. Hell, I’ve done worse to him. On numerous occasions.”

 

“Wait, Dazai, what are you talking about? What happened ?”

 

Dazai took a deep breath, closing his eyes. That wasn’t good. 

 

“So, uh, basically, you sort of blacked out, and wrecked some stuff in our room, and, uh, maybe tried to kill me? I’m fine, though, don’t worry. But they can’t really let you out right now because, yada yada, danger to self or others, so you have to stay here. It’s fine, though. The beds here are better than the ones in the rooms.” 

 

Chuuya sat there for a minute, his drug- and sleep-addled mind struggling to grasp Dazai’s words. 

 

He blacked out again?

 

He tried to kill Dazai?

 

He was dangerous?

 

He was sent to the Academy because everyone thought he was dangerous. His classmates, his old school’s administration, even Rimbaud. Things were supposed to be getting better. This wasn’t supposed to happen anymore. He was-

 

“-uuya? Earth to Chuuya?” Dazai’s voice cut through the fog in Chuuya’s head, the rhythmic cadence of his speech finally forming meaningful words in the ginger’s brain. “ There you are. Have fun on your little journey?”

 

“Are you okay, Dazai? I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you? Please tell me you’re okay.”

 

Dazai shrugged, an awkward gesture in his reclined position against the bed. “I’m fine.”

 

“What did I do? Tell me. Please.”

 

“Well…” Dazai’s face was overtaken by a look of deep thought. Chuuya would crack a joke about it under different circumstances. “I don’t want to.”

 

“Please, Dazai.”

Dazai sighed. “It wasn’t even that bad. Really, you should get better at smothering people if you ever want to actually kill someone. Pillows never work.”

 

“ Oh god. ” Chuuya hugged his knees to his chest.

 

“Relax, Chuuya.” Dazai looked up at him.

 

“How am I supposed to relax , Dazai? I’m stuck in a padded room because I tried to kill you!” 

 

“Not the first time, won’t be the last.”

 

“What?”

“Kunikida doesn’t like me very much.”

 

Chuuya rolled his eyes. “When are they gonna let me out?”

Dazai thought about it for a second. “Who’s to say? Not too long, though. If you were gonna be here a while, you wouldn’t have your school clothes on. Too dangerous, or something. That’s what Yosano told me the last time I was here.” Dazai spoke that last sentence louder, turning his head to stare out the door at the nurse shuffling around outside.

 

“Thanks, Dazai.” Yosano peeked her head in the door, a familiar look of exasperation on her face. “Chuuya, you’ll be good to go tomorrow morning, don’t worry. It’s just a safety precaution.”

 

“I have to stay here all night?” Chuuya frowned. The bed in the room was unfamiliar, and spending a night in a different room after an… incident like that didn’t feel great.

 

“Yosano~” Dazai had a scheming grin on his face. That wasn’t a good sign. “Hear me out.”

 

“I absolutely will not do that.”

 

“No, no, it’s a good idea. How about, you let me take a trip back to our room, and short-stack here and I can have a little sleepover?”

 

“Dazai, no. First off, I would get my ass handed to me in a court of law if anything happened to either of you because I let this happen. Second, you two spend literally every night in a room together.” 

 

Dazai pouted. “Can I at least bring him some stuff from his bed? Chuuya here can’t sleep without his Baki.”

 

“Dazai-” Chuuya could feel his cheeks blushing.

 

“You know what? Fine. Go.” 

 

Dazai swung his legs around, narrowly missing Chuuya’s face with his foot in his haste. He flew out the door, moving with a speed Chuuya had only seen in the taller boy’s mad dash to the lunch line, Yosano walking into the room in his absence. 

 

“Yosano, am I dangerous?”

 

She offered a tired smile. “We just want to keep you safe is all. Trust me, Dazai’s been in here more times than I can count, and he’s about as far from dangerous as someone can be. You’re alright, kid.” 

 

Chuuya flung himself back on the bed. The ceiling was padded in here, too. That seems excessive. He let his thoughts wander a bit, his last few minutes of what felt like intense focus tiring out his exhausted mind.

 

Dazai arrived once more, announcing his presence by flinging Baki directly into Chuuya’s face. In his arms he held Chuuya’s blanket and pajamas. “For you, good sir.” He walked over to the bed and dumped the pile of fabric in his grasp onto Chuuya’s limp figure. “Also, Yosano, can you negotiate with Fukuzawa and get him to lay off the make-up work? Chibi-boy here was supposed to talk to him like two days ago, but clearly that has yet to happen, so you might be my poor roommate’s only hope here.”

 

Chuuya groaned. “Shut the fuck up.” He was already going to be forced into a long-ass conversation with Kouyou after this, and one faculty member being tired of him was enough. 

 

“Okay, good night, Chuuya! Good night, Yosano! I will enjoy having my room to myself again!” With that, he slipped out of the room. 

 

Chuuya changed into his pajamas before laying out his blanket on top of the bed’s thin sheets and climbing under the covers. Yosano had dimmed the lights in the room, not all the way, but enough that the sedatives still working their way through his system started to take hold once more, and he fell rather quickly into a deep slumber.

Notes:

yippee you made it!

anyway this chapter is probably gonna be the last one to move in this particular direction, if it feels rushed i'm sorry but i hope i tied up all the ends yall were paying attention to

working on the next chapter as we speak

patheticlittlemeowmeowman out

Chapter 9

Summary:

Chuuya discusses his recollection with Kouyou. Our characters are introduced to a new yet old-as-time story arc.

Notes:

MERRY CHRISTMAS YALL!!! as a thank-you to my delightful readers on here i pulled it together and cleaned up this next chapter. the flow of this part was duking it out with me, and in typical ao3 fic writer fashion, my health is going after me as well, but i can't go into 2025 without a little present for yall. THANKS SO MUCH FOR STICKING AROUND or joining or whatever situation youre in while reading this chapter!!!

Chuuya got out of the isolation room as fast as Yosano would let him, slugging back his pills before heading up to his room to check out the damage. The way Dazai had described it had been akin to some of his previous incidents, and he needed a sense of how many apologies he owed the taller boy.

…It wasn’t that bad, actually.

His bed was a little disheveled, and upon closer inspection there was some new scratching on the walls, but overall, the room looked remarkably normal. His desk chair had changed color, and the contents of his desk had been rearranged slightly. Had Dazai fixed the place up?

Speak of the devil. A snore echoed from above Chuuya’s head. Apparently his roommate was still fast asleep, one leg sprawled over the wall of his bunk. Chuuya checked the time. The breakfast bell was set to ring in about fifteen minutes, and if Dazai didn’t secure a spot in line before the doors opened Chuuya would be hearing about it all day. He supposed he owed the boy something, after dealing with the events of yesterday. Oh well.

With a sigh, Chuuya climbed the ladder to the top bunk, getting a better view of the bandage-covered menace. He didn’t look so menacing right now, his face shoved into the pillow and hair unkempt, strewn in all different directions. Chuuya has no idea how he is able to sleep in all those bandages without overheating.

Leaning down to put his face a couple feet away from the sleeping boy, Chuuya cleared his throat in an attempt to ease Dazai out of his slumber and avoid getting socked in the jaw. No success there. He tried whispering Dazai’s name. Nothing.

Louder maybe? Nope.

Chuuya’s final solution was to gently place a hand on Dazai’s shoulder. He made sure to move slowly.

The sleeping boy’s eyes shot open. “Huh?” He jerked away from the ginger boy, very nearly whacking his head against the wall behind him. “Good god. Your hair's a mess, chibi-boy. You look like Bigfoot, you scared me.”

Chuuya immediately reached his hands up to smooth his hair, and Dazai took the opportunity to push him backward, away from the bunk and off the ladder.

“Motherfu-” Chuuya stumbled to catch himself. He didn’t fall far, only one step, but it was too early for Dazai’s bullshit. His roommate took forever to get ready most mornings. Where did this energy come from? “Hurry up, asshole. You’ve got ten minutes till the breakfast doors open.”

Dazai swung his legs over the edge of his bunk, using his momentum to fling himself off his bed and land on the floor with a thump. “Hand me my uniform.” He stuck his hand out expectantly.

“Get your own goddamn uniform. I’m waiting outside.” Chuuya grabbed his book bag and lanyard and stepped out of his door.

In Chuuya’s defense, he did wait outside the door for Dazai. Once he hit the ten-minute mark, it was clear his roommate would not be joining him. He scoffed, rolling his eyes as he headed over to the dining hall.

— — — — —

Shirase and Yuan already had a spot claimed when Chuuya made it through the line. They went through their typical morning ritual, Shirase smiling and waving him over.

“How you doin’ man? You looked tired yesterday, are you feeling better?”

“Shirase, you can’t just say that to him, that’s rude!” Yuan glared at Shirase, a chiding expression on her face.

“What? He did!”

“I’m fine, don’t worry. Fukuzawa’s homework is just being a bitch.” Did Yosano go talk to Fukuzawa? He’s a tad bit mortified at the concept of asking her to get an extension for him, so he just had to hope she would get it done.

“Shocker. Truly. Sit down!” Yuan gestured next to her. Chuuya accepted her invitation, taking the open chair.

— — — — —

Dazai was already in his seat when Chuuya arrived at Oda's class, spindly legs sprawled across his desk. Oda gave Chuuya a smile as he walked in. His nose still looked a little bruised, but he didn’t seem to be in any sort of substantial pain. Chuuya took a seat at his desk and set his bag down on the ground.

The rest of the class filed in as the bell rang, and Oda stood up. “Well, good morning. I hope you all slept well. Obligatory announcements time, let’s see…” He shuffled some papers around on his desk before lifting a printed sheet. “Mr. Hawthorne has requested food trays be neatly stacked in their designated locations- I’m guessing he didn’t like the whole “house of cards” stunt you all pulled, then. Uh, please do not use the community phone to order delivery…” Oda’s eyes skimmed the paper, looking for pertinent information. He quirked an eyebrow. “Our annual formal will commence on the first of the month. That’s… fifteen days from now, I believe, but take that with a grain of salt.” He mumbled something about days blending together as he continued to read over the paper. “This year’s dance will feature a live DJ, fountain drinks on tap… no illicit substances allowed… something about expectations… Thanks for the long list of warnings, Dazai. Okay, this is a lot of words. Wow. Just- just use common sense and don’t kill each other, I guess.”

With that, Oda crumpled up the announcements list and tossed it in the trash can, resuming his normal ministrations. Chuuya leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes.

— — — — —

Dazai grabbed Chuuya’s bag strap as he stepped out of Oda’s classroom, jerking him backward. “I don’t know what Odasaku was talking about. I made the formal infinitely better last year.”

Chuuya pulled his bag out of Dazai’s clutches. “Right. Dazai Osamu, famous party animal. What did you do, anyway?”

Dazai’s cheery expression narrowed into a lighthearted pout. “Listen, they were practically asking for it by setting up the chocolate fountain so close to the dance floor. If I hadn’t done it, someone else would have.”

Chuuya walked ahead and bit back a smile. “Why would they go to such lengths to pull a formal off anyway? They make it pretty damn clear they don’t trust us with shit. This seems like a huge leap from everything else in this glorified jail.”

“Some kid’s mom complained like six years ago. Said her son wasn’t ‘being given opportunities to socially bond’ with his classmates.” Dazai held up air quotes around the words. “It’s mandatory too. This place is big on ‘maintaining traditional teenage experiences in a regulated setting’. That’s why they put us in pairs in the dorms and stuff. Gotta teach the troubled kids how to pretend.”

“Heh. Figures. It’s not like I was locked in a padded room a couple hours ago or anything. Talk about a normal teenage experience.” Chuuya scoffed. “Speaking of which, I gotta go to my recently rescheduled appointment with Kouyou. Have fun doing whatever it is you do all day.”

Dazai waved cheerfully as the two parted ways. It was almost impressive how easy it was for Dazai to put on that air of optimism. Not that Chuuya would ever admit it. Dazai didn’t need the ego boost.

— — — — —

Kouyou’s office had a different feel from the last time Chuuya was here. Probably because of the different reasons for their meeting, if he had to guess. He sat stiffly in Kouyou’s chair, the woman seated across from him. Her demeanor was so carefully relaxed, it almost made the experience more tense in itself. She looked more severe holding the same clipboard she had held in their last appointment. Maybe Chuuya was just paying more attention this time.

“So.” Kouyou met Chuuya’s eyes. “I’ve read the details of what happened on paper. I’m also acutely aware that the paper wasn’t present to experience anything.” She chuckled at her own joke. “Why don’t you tell me what you remember from before the blackout?”

Chuuya fidgeted uncomfortably. “Well, I was really stressed that morning. I don’t think it was one thing in particular, ‘cause I had a lot going on. It’s all a little fuzzy, but I just remember being pissed the whole time. I tried to take a nap, ‘cause my old therapist said it was a self-regulation strategy or something. Normally it helps at least a little, but I couldn’t actually fall asleep, and I didn’t feel any less crappy afterward when the bell rang. And then I forgot my pencil when I went to class, which really wasn’t that big of a deal in hindsight, but I really like that one pencil, so I had to go back and get it. Dazai was still in the room, and I think he… did something. Laughed, probably. It gets really fuzzy after that.”

Kouyou jotted notes down onto her paper. “Is sleeping your primary coping strategy when dealing with anger?”

Chuuya thought about it. Nothing. “I guess so. Not much else has helped so far, and when it does, it doesn’t do much. Taking a nap is a sort of reset.”

“Alright. We can work on some other strategies at another time, but I want to get through this while the details are fresh. What do you remember after the blackout?”

Chuuya furrowed his brow, trying to piece together his fragmented recollection. “The first thing I really remember is that I was sitting down. It was like… I knew someone was holding onto me, and I felt scared, but it wasn’t directed at them- at Dazai.”

Kouyou nodded. “Does physical touch typically help you calm down?”

“Oh, hell no. Last time Rim- my foster father tried to touch me after I blacked out, I socked him in the jaw and pinned him on the ground.”

“Did anything feel different on this occasion?” Kouyou’s face was carefully calm.

“I was- it didn’t feel like someone was looming over me, trying to keep me down. It almost felt like he was trying to protect me instead of everyone else. I couldn’t really understand what he was saying, but it wasn’t angry or anything.”

Chuuya could hear the scratching of Kouyou’s pen on her paper. “From what I read, you had a strong reaction to Yosano administering a sedative. Do you remember it?”

Chuuya shuddered at the thought. “Yeah. I don’t like needles. I wasn’t blacked out or anything, though. I was just genuinely freaked out. I wasn’t really… all the way there, which didn’t help, but I do remember what happened.”

Kouyou wrote one more note before setting her clipboard off to the side. “Well, I know this office can be a tad foreboding, so I won’t keep you in here any longer. How are you feeling?”

Chuuya thought about it. “A little fuzzy, honestly. This happens a lot after therapy, though. I’m good.”

Kouyou thought for a moment. “As long as it isn’t distressing you. Don’t be afraid to reach out if you notice it getting worse. Why don’t you head to your room for the rest of the period? You seem like you could still use some rest.”

“Won’t I have to do make-up work, though? I’ve missed a bunch of classes lately, and I still have to make up Fukuzawa’s work.”

Kouyou leaned in toward Chuuya, a smile playing at her lips. “Benefits of attending a so-called
‘troubled school’, lad. With everyone’s complex and diverse schedules, you don’t have to worry about making up work. If anyone gives you trouble about it, let me know and I’ll talk to them.”

Chuuya smiled back at the woman. “Gotcha. Thanks, Kouyou.”

“Of course. Get some rest, Chuuya.”

Notes:

we did it yall

see i wanted to be a little basic with the next part of the story but i will keep it interesting i prommy

as a prize for my more dazai-oriented readers we are gonna get a nice little peek into his inner machinations this arc

until next time you delightful losers

patheticlittlemeowmeowman out

Chapter 10

Summary:

SHOPPING EPISODE!

Notes:

WE DID IT YALL I BEAT THE AO3 AUTHOR CURSE

ehlers danlos syndrome may be strong but YA BOI IS STRONGER

anyway yeah im still alive and workin on the next couple chapters so WAKE UP

Chuuya wasn’t sure what magic Kouyou worked, but whatever she did certainly had an effect. It was almost magical. None of the counselors at Chuuya’s old school ever did anything, and Rimbaud tried. Walking into class the next day felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. 

 

Dazai had changed, too. It wasn’t like he was civil, to be clear. The underlying urge to punt the brunette out a window had yet to disappear. He was… different, though. Chuuya couldn’t put his finger on the details, but there was something minutely different in the way he talked to Chuuya. It wasn’t pity or anything, though, so Chuuya could deal with it.

 

The attitudes around school were shifting, too. Kids who’d been there many years talked about previous dances, and others who’d been in public school regaled them with horror stories from there.

 

Chuuya had his experiences with dances. His seventh grade winter formal was the last one he went to before permanently landing himself a place on the no-sell list. He didn’t remember specifically what happened, but a school-wide conflict resolution curriculum was added to homeroom the next Monday, so it couldn’t have been good.

 

— — — — —

 

A week before the formal, the option opened up for students with “exemplary behavior” to ride the bus into town to pick out clothes for the formal. Apparently Kouyou managed to convince whatever administrative body decided what “exemplary behavior” was that Chuuya’s outburst was a standalone incident and not the start of some rebellious streak, so he was invited on this trip. Dazai was too, for some reason. Chuuya hadn’t the faintest clue as to what about the other boy’s behavior could be described as “exemplary.” Maybe this was his reward for lasting seventy-two hours without inciting something (the horses were still wary from his last scheme).

 

Chuuya had plenty of experience riding on buses full of students. He habitually beelined to the back at the earliest opportunity. The seats were bigger back there, and he could put his legs across the aisle without blocking anyone’s path. 

 

“What brings you here today, chibi-boy?”

 

Shit.

 

Chuuya didn’t see Dazai sitting there until the last moment. The brunette was slouched over, knees pushed up against the back of the next seat with his torso almost laying horizontal on the bench. Chuuya sighed and sat down across the aisle. Dazai barely waited for him to sit before hopping up and scooting in next to Chuuya, sandwiching him against the window.

 

“You didn’t answer my question.”

 

Chuuya glared at him. “I think it’s pretty obvious.”

 

“Can’t be sure unless you tell me.” Dazai was grinning ear to ear.

 

“Fuck off. The bus hasn’t even started yet.” Chuuya shoulder-checked Dazai, making him grab at the seat to avoid tipping off into the aisle. “Save your bullshit for when I’m not crammed in the same space as you.”

 

— — — — —

 

Dazai did not, in fact, save his bullshit. If the bus ride had been two minutes longer, Chuuya would’ve gotten himself kicked off the “exemplary behavior” list.

 

The bus pulled to a stop in front of a prom dress shop. The men’s formalwear shop was across the street. There were a couple high schools in the area, normal ones with three or even four dances a year, so Shirase assured him the selection was pretty good. (Shirase missed this trip because he got into a fistfight two days before. He said it wasn’t his fault, but he was kicked off the list nonetheless.)

 

Chuuya strolled into the men’s shop, looking at the mannequins posed around the store. He hadn’t bought formal clothing in a hot minute. He spent most of his time in t-shirts and in-school suspension, and he sure as hell wasn’t wearing a button-down shirt to in-school suspension.

 

“Don’t worry, chibi. Someday you’ll be as tall as those mannequins, if you drink plenty of milk.”

 

“Oh- Shut up, Dazai!”

 

— — — — —

 

Having to shop pants labeled “petite” was embarrassing enough when Chuuya didn’t have Dazai lurking over his shoulder and judging everything. At least this place had a decent selection.

 

Finding a shirt was easy enough. He had to be selective with everything else, though. Rimbaud lent Chuuya his credit card for this, and he didn’t want to take advantage of it. He’d put his foster father through enough at this point. Besides, if he picked right, he could get several years’ wear out of these clothes. He didn’t want to be stuck wearing something he didn’t like to every formal event until he finally decided to shop again.

 

The first thing he really liked was a vest. It wasn’t super fancy, just a nice nine-ounce wool vest in a purplish gray. It went well with black, too, so he grabbed a pair of black slacks when Dazai wasn’t around to poke fun at his inseam.

 

It didn’t feel complete, though. He wanted to find something interesting. 

 

He found a cropped jacket, the bottom corners rounded. It piqued his interest, and it was black, so it would go with his pants. 

 

He brought everything to a fitting room in the back, tugging the curtain to the stall closed behind him.

 

He was pulling the dress shirt on when he heard the curtain get pulled open.

 

“They’re easier to put on if you unbutton them, you know.”

 

“AGH!” Chuuya fought to pull the shirt over his head. “Get the fuck out of here, Dazai!”

 

The other boy whined, his head still poking through the curtain. “It’s so boring here, though. I already have what I’m gonna wear.”

 

“Why the hell did you come, then? It was totally fucking optional!”

 

Dazai chuckled. “Wow. Two F-bombs. One right after the other. Chibi’s all hot and bothered.”

 

Chuuya could feel his face getting red. “Get out!”

 

The other boy looked unimpressed. “We’re roommates, chibi. We’ve got nothing to hide.”

 

Chuuya’s face went even redder at the thought. “I’m gonna yell for Kunikida if you don’t get out right fucking now.”

 

Dazai shrugged. “Fine, fine.” His head disappeared behind the curtain, but he kept talking. “It’s like you don’t want to hear what I think. Tsk.”

 

“I don’t, Dazai!”

 

Chuuya could hear Dazai harrumph through the curtain. “You’re missing out on what would make it so much better…”

 

Chuuya didn’t want to humor him. He buttoned the vest up, trying to mentally convince himself he was happy with it. 

 

…He opened the curtain to Dazai’s Cheshire cat-like grin. He was holding up a handful of black leather straps. 

 

“You’re kidding.”

 

“Hey, a little ankle-biter Chihuahua needs his leash.” Dazai was giggling until Chuuya socked him in the shoulder. “Ow! Okay, fine, fine. It would work, though.”

 

Chuuya glared at him. Dazai held his hands up placatingly. “Okay, fine. I know when I’m not welcome.” He strolled away, leaving the harness and choker on a hook in Chuuya’s fitting room.

 

Chuuya looked over the items Dazai deposited.

 

…He did have a point.

Notes:

this one is a lil shorter cuz i didnt wanna combine it with the next one but WOO HOO

anyway sorry bout that folks im gonna try to post some more for yall now cuz your comments give me life

patheticlittlemeowmeowman out