The venue pulsed with soft, moody lighting, a far cry from the electrifying chaos of Chuuya’s usual rock shows. The stage was set in deep blues and purples, with scattered fairy lights twinkling like stars. It was unmistakably Dazai—calm, melancholic, and effortlessly intimate.

Chuuya leaned against the bar, arms crossed as he watched the crowd murmur with anticipation. He had been to Dazai’s concerts before, but being invited was rare. Dazai never cared if he showed up, never asked—but this time, he had.

“Chuuya, you have to come,” Dazai had said over the phone, his voice unusually firm. “It’s important.”

That alone was weird enough to make Chuuya show up.

As he took a sip of his drink, he felt a presence beside him—his girlfriend, Yuki, looping her arm through his. “I still don’t get why you like his music,” she murmured, her lips curling into a smirk. “It’s so… depressing.”

Chuuya sighed. He wasn’t in the mood to argue, not tonight. “He’s talented. And he’s my friend.”

Yuki huffed but said nothing. The tension between her and Dazai had always been a mystery to him. They didn’t just dislike each other—they downright resented each other. And no matter how many times Chuuya tried to keep the peace, neither of them budged.

Before he could think more about it, the stage lights dimmed, and a single spotlight illuminated the figure at the microphone.

Dazai.

He stood there, guitar in hand, his usual lazy smirk replaced by something quieter. His brown eyes scanned the crowd for a brief moment before landing on Chuuya.

“Good evening, everyone,” Dazai’s voice rang out, smooth yet unreadable. “Tonight’s set is special. There’s a song I’ve never played before, but I figured… it’s time.”

Chuuya frowned slightly. Something about Dazai’s tone felt off.

The first chords strummed through the venue, slow and deliberate. Then, Dazai’s voice carried through the air, soft yet raw.

And as the lyrics unfolded, something in Chuuya’s chest twisted.