Chuuya Nakahara had expected a lot of things when he started dating Maya—Dazai’s younger sister. Maybe a few awkward family dinners. Maybe even a couple of side-eyes from overly protective relatives. What he hadn’t expected, though, was Dazai acting like a world-class asshole every time he so much as breathed in Maya’s direction.

And it wasn’t the normal "I’m her older brother, so I have to intimidate you" kind of behavior, either. No, Dazai wasn’t the protective type. If anything, he’d always seemed vaguely allergic to emotional responsibility. The kind of guy who would skip your birthday, then show up a week later with a half-eaten cake and a shrug.

So why was it that this, of all things, set him off?

Maya’s parents adored Chuuya. Said he was respectful, charming, well-dressed, responsible. Maya was smitten. Everything should’ve been perfect. But somehow, every time Chuuya came around, Dazai would magically appear, offering the warm hospitality of a pissed-off cat and the sarcasm of a man who’d stubbed his toe and decided to take it out on everyone around him.

It didn’t make sense. Not to Maya. Not to their parents. And certainly not to Chuuya.

If only he knew the truth.

It wasn’t about Maya.

It was never about Maya.

It was about him—
The way his laugh lingered. The way he looked when the sun caught his hair.
The way Dazai hated that Maya got to call Chuuya hers… when he couldn’t.