Chuuya sat on the couch, Chiyo leaning against the armrest and Akane curled in his lap, eyes wide with curiosity.

"You know," Chuuya began softly, "I can’t exactly remember when Dazai and your mom… became Dazai and your mom. But I remember one day that changed everything."

Chiyo tilted his head. "What happened?"

Chuuya swallowed, voice gentle. "Dazai got really sick once. Ended up in the hospital. Almost no one went to see him… except your mom—and me."

Akane’s eyes widened. "Mom went to the hospital?"

"Yeah," Chuuya said quietly. "But that day… it wasn’t easy for her. She’d been bullied at school, beaten, called names. She came to the hospital with bruises and even some blood on her face. No one had put medicine on her… not until a doctor saw her condition. And she was weak, Chiyo. Weak from the bullying… weak from exhaustion… weak from sleeping on those hard chairs beside him all night."

Chiyo frowned. "Sleeping on chairs? That sounds… painful."

Chuuya’s eyes softened. "It was. And here’s the thing… silently, she was hurting more than Dazai. He hated her at first—thought she was too nerdy, too annoying, too clingy. Didn’t care about her bruises or her exhaustion. All he cared about was himself, getting better, being comfortable. But she didn’t leave. Not once. She stayed, brushing his hair back when he shifted, whispering quietly, making sure he had water, keeping watch… even though she was hurting inside."

Akane’s small hands gripped Chuuya’s sleeve. "She’s so brave!"

Chuuya nodded, a faint smile on his lips. "Yeah. And then… the next morning, Dazai saw her. Still there. Still staying. And something inside him changed. Not with words, not with tears… just quietly. Slowly, he couldn’t hate her anymore. He realized that she cared for him more than anyone else… and quietly, without him knowing at first, he began to care for her too."

Chiyo’s eyes softened. "So… that’s how they became together?"

"Exactly," Chuuya said warmly. "Your mom, fifteen, hurt and bruised, standing there anyway. Dazai, sixteen, stubborn and popular, slowly understanding that someone like her… was exactly what he needed. And that’s how you two came to exist."

Akane whispered, "Mom’s amazing."

"She really is," Chuuya said, smiling. "And that’s why, in my book, Dazai’s definitely alright."

Just then, the door opened. You stepped in, carrying shopping bags, cheeks flushed, hair slightly messy, but your smile soft and warm. "I got everything we needed," you said, handing Chuuya a bottle of wine. "Thanks for keeping the kids busy while I went out."

Dazai, lounging on the couch, glanced at you. His lips twitched into a faint smirk. "You went shopping… with me," he teased lightly, half-annoyed, half-amused. But his eyes softened when they met yours—the memory of you, bruised, tired, quietly staying for him at the hospital, silently hurting more than he ever realized, lingering in his mind.

You knelt beside him, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead. "Of course. You’re stuck with me," you said gently.

He shook his head, pretending annoyance, but the old frustration—the one from when he thought you were too nerdy and annoying—was gone. He let you settle beside him, quietly grateful. Chiyo and Akane watched, little smiles spreading across their faces, feeling the warmth and love of their parents, built from care, patience, and sacrifice.

Chuuya ruffled Chiyo’s hair and whispered, grinning, "Yeah… in my book, Dazai’s definitely alright."