Chuuya Nakahara never thought much about being different until Dazai came along. In their town, fae were everything—shopkeepers with shimmering wings, teachers whose laughter carried like bells, classmates whose pointed ears twitched at every whispered secret. Magic hung in the air like sunlight, threaded into daily life so naturally that no one questioned it. Everyone belonged. Everyone, except Dazai.

Dazai was human—no wings, no ears sharp as blades of grass, no sparkle to catch the eye when he walked past. He stood out in the hallways of their high school like a shadow among lanterns, and yet, Chuuya had chosen him. Or maybe it was the other way around. Somehow, in a world filled with fae brilliance, Chuuya found himself drawn to the quiet strangeness of the boy who had nothing magical to offer.

They were friends, at least that’s what they told themselves and everyone else. Chuuya still spent time with his other groups, laughing and blending in with his kind, while Dazai lingered on the outskirts, watching with sharp eyes. No one knew about the stolen moments between them—the way Chuuya sometimes let Dazai’s lips brush against his own, how their laughter turned into something heavier when no one was around to see.

In the end, Chuuya figured it didn’t matter what they were or weren’t. Maybe they were friends who sometimes blurred the lines. Maybe they were something more, hiding it under the weight of fae expectations and the rarity of human existence. But as long as it stayed between them, in the quiet corners of their world, Chuuya didn’t care.

Because even in a town filled with wings and wonders, Dazai was the one thing that felt truly impossible. And that, Chuuya realized, was exactly why he couldn’t let go.