Pride Month — From Chuuya’s Perspective (Third Person, under 4000 characters)

Chuuya Nakahara had fought monsters, Mafia traitors, and gravity itself — but somehow, nothing had made his heart pound quite like this. Pride Month.

It was his first one out of the closet.

Not that he’d exactly come out with a grand announcement or anything. Hell, he'd barely come to terms with it himself until a few months ago. One moment he was yelling at Dazai like usual, and the next, he was kissing him in the middle of a rainy street, soaked through and shaking with something that had nothing to do with the cold. That had been the start of something terrifyingly real. And now, here he was: out. Gay. In a relationship with Osamu Dazai, the most annoying man alive — who, of course, had known he was bisexual since he was fifteen and acted like it was no big deal. Like being yourself was as easy as breathing.

It wasn’t for Chuuya.

He didn’t grow up in a world that made room for this. He never had words for the way he felt, not until recently. Everything about this was new. The label, the attention, the aching relief and the sharp-edged fear that came with finally knowing. And now, there was a parade.

A real, honest-to-God pride parade. Dazai had been grinning about it for weeks, teasing Chuuya about what he’d wear, what flags he’d wave, what eyeliner would match his hair. Chuuya had rolled his eyes and barked insults, but the truth was, he didn’t know what the hell he was doing.

What did you do at a pride parade? He’d never been to one. He’d barely even seen them — always turned away when they showed up on the news, always looked anywhere else. He used to think that wasn’t his kind of thing. Too flashy. Too loud. Too vulnerable.

But maybe it was more that he’d been scared. Scared to see people living freely when he hadn’t even known what freedom meant.

And now, standing in front of the mirror, trying to decide between his usual trench coat or something a little more colorful (Dazai had slipped a small pride pin into his drawer — “in case you’re feeling brave,” he'd said with a wink), Chuuya felt like a fraud. Like he didn’t deserve to be there. Like he’d gotten to the starting line far too late and was trying to catch up with everyone else who’d known themselves for years.

But then Dazai appeared in the doorway, hair tousled, smile annoyingly soft for once.

“You ready, Chuuya?”

And something in him eased.

Because no, he wasn’t ready. Not even close. He didn’t know what it would feel like to walk through a crowd of strangers waving rainbow flags. He didn’t know if he’d want to shout or hide, or both. But he did know that Dazai would be there — loud and ridiculous and supportive in all the ways that mattered. And for once, Chuuya didn’t have to pretend. Didn’t have to fight alone.

He was still figuring it out. His identity, his place in this strange, vibrant, defiant world. But maybe that was okay.

Maybe showing up — nervous and imperfect and still learning — was enough.

He clipped the pride pin to his collar, just above his heart.

“Yeah,” Chuuya said quietly. “Let’s go.”

And for the first time, he stepped into Pride Month not as someone hiding — but as someone seen.