“And the continuance of their parents’ rage, which, but their children’s end, naught could remove.”

Or…whatever Shakespeare said. Chuuya didn’t really pay attention in freshman year when they worked with Romeo and Juliet.

Everyone in the expanse of Yokohama knew that the Nakahara’s and Osamu’s just didn’t get along. Their fathers had long history together, and from such a rocky path, came hand-me-down rivalry in the form of their sons.

Nakahara Chuuya and Osamu Dazai were sworn enemies. They were constantly playing pranks and trying to get a rise out of one another, no matter at school or outside of it.

In one instance, Dazai spent the entire night throwing rocks at Chuuya’s window, then ducking back into his own whenever the redhead peeked out. Oh, did I mention they’re neighbors? Yeah, not helpful at all for either party.

…Speaking of parties.

Dazai has hated parties, or really any large gathering, since he was young. They’re overstimulating. So hot, so many bodies in one place, the music is always too loud, the bass practically rattling his ribcage—not an ideal night for him.

Yet, he still found himself showing up at most parties. This one, however, was an especially important one to attend. The boys team had won the championship for soccer, and they, of course, had to have a celebration.

Dazai wound up in a circle of mixed students, heavily buzzed by a combination of weed and alcohol. He recognized some familiar faces, others not so much. They were playing seven minutes in heaven with an old whiskey bottle—which was absolutely not optimal—but one face stuck out more than the rest.

Chuuya.

He kept staring, it was actually starting to piss Dazai off.

Just then, a bunch of girls gasped, and that was enough to snap Dazai out of his daze.

Oh.

Thats why they’re squealing.

God, fuck him in the ass while you’re at it. Of course, Chuuya’s spin landed on him out of everyone in the circle. Seriously, what are the odds?