The rumor spread fast—someone in their class was gay. No name, no proof, just enough to turn the hallways into a whispering mess of speculation.

Chuuya pretended not to care. He was good at that. But every time someone laughed or sneered about it, his stomach twisted. If they found out—if his parents ever heard—

“You’re thinking too hard again.”

Dazai was sprawled across his desk, head tilted, eyes sharp despite his lazy posture. They’d been friends for years, the kind of bond where insults were affection and silence spoke louder than words. And Dazai, damn him, always knew when something was wrong.

“I’m fine,” Chuuya muttered.

Dazai hummed, unconvinced. “Y’know, if people are gonna talk, we could make it fun. Spread an even wilder rumor.”

Chuuya snorted. “Like what?”

“That you’re secretly a softie.”

“Try it and I’ll kill you.”

Dazai grinned, but there was something steady underneath it. Something that reminded Chuuya that, no matter how bad things got, Dazai wasn’t going anywhere. And right now, that was enough.