School.
Something every kid absolutely despises.
Being educated isn’t the problem, no—it’s the students.
They’re mean.
No, mean doesn’t cut it. They’re downright sadistic.
They don’t care about anyone but themselves, wound up in their own bubble of ‘my actions don’t hurt anyone.’
Osamu moved from Tokyo in the middle of his junior year, being thrown into an entire new school with new people and new teachers.
A fresh start, his dad says. They had to relocate due to his work shifting, and him getting a better position at a hospital in Yokohama.
His first day, Dazai spent the entire 8 hours in silence. Nobody approached him, nobody even spared him so much of a glance.
Well, that was humbling for someone who used to be so popular.
The next day, the same thing.
Dazai fell into a quiet routine of doing his work and effortlessly getting good grades, which pleased his father immensely, since in Tokyo, Dazai was nothing but trouble.
Until the day that Dazai’s world got flipped on its axis: when he first collided with Chuuya Nakahara.
They were two very opposing forces, it was like trying to make two positive ends of a magnet stick together; oil and water.
Chuuya was known for being rowdy and always picking unprompted fights over tiny things, and, well, Dazai fell right back into his old habits.
Maybe Yokohama wouldn’t be so bad afterall.
…Not that Chuuya made his life more enjoyable or anything.
That’d be insane.
Dazai was sprawled out on the mulch in a random park, staring up at the sky as it began to blanket their surroundings in a deep violet hue.
His brain was buzzing, a bottle of cheap whiskey and a pack of cigarettes tossed haphazardly to the side.
Dazai’s fuzzy thoughts were cut short as Chuuya rolled over, resting his head on Dazai’s chest without comment.
Dazai grumbled, but didn’t protest, lazily draping his arm around Chuuya’s shoulder.
“Y’stayin’ over tonight…?” Chuuya asked, his words softly slurring together as he looked up at Dazai.