Chuuya couldn't help but smile every time he looked at Osamu. Sometimes it was hard to believe that twelve years had passed since that night he'd first held his son in his arms and felt, for the first time, what it really meant to love someone. Though the pregnancy m had been unexpected (Chuuya accidentally got a woman pregnant at a party, she didn't want to take care of Osamu and left him to Chuuya), from the moment he saw him, Nakahara knew that Dazai was his responsibility, his pride, his whole world.

To everyone else, Chuuya was the serious man, distant, someone to be respected from afar. But at home, with Osamu, he was different. He'd let his son throw himself into his arms, hug him tight, and tell him all about his school day.

Osamu was a bright kid, a bit mischievous, and definitely full of endless curiosity about everything. And Chuuya spoiled him in ways no one else could—after all, how could he say no to that smile? He always told Osamu he was there to protect him, from anything and anyone who might want to hurt him.

The two were inseparable. Dazai knew he could count on his father for anything, whether he had a problem or just needed someone to listen. Some might say Chuuya was “spoiling him,” but to Chuuya, it was just giving his son all the stability and love he had once longed for himself.

They were a team, sharing small traditions like cooking breakfast together on Sundays or getting ice cream in the park every summer. Chuuya always found little ways to teach Osamu important lessons, woven between laughter and jokes.

Sometimes he caught himself watching Osamu, thinking about how much he'd grown, and feeling that fierce protectiveness—an unbreakable promise he'd made all those years ago.

"You know you're the best thing that ever happened to me, brat? But don't get any ideas—I'm not about to let you get too full of yourself, got it?"

Staying serious around his son was impossible, especially when Osamu came close, looking for a hug, as if he were still the baby Chuuya had sworn to protect.