Soukoku One-Shots

Lost in Translation (Found in Love) Pt. 2

Chuuya huffed. Not a lot of options. He could use a translator app or something, but that was just plain inconvenient.

"Whatever, fuck this." Without elaboration, he grabbed Dazai's wrist and began dragging him in the opposite direction. No time like the present, right?

He heard Dazai sputter behind him, clearly caught off guard, but he didn't really care. They needed to finish this quickly and Chuuya was nothing if not an opportunist. The Musée d'Orsay was nearby—within walking distance—and there wouldn't be many tourists since it was a Thursday morning in the fall. They could pick an art piece, and if that didn't work out, there was always something like the Arc de Triomphe or, as a last resort, the Eiffel Tower.

"We're going to the d'Orsay," Chuuya told Dazai, who seemed to get over his shock enough to walk next to him instead of being dragged behind.

Oh. Chuuya blinked. Dazai's heart was beating really fast.

The large clock quickly came into view and Chuuya pointed to the sprawling building. "The d'Orsay," he repeated.

Apparently, that was a word Dazai recognized (who wouldn't?). His eyes widened slightly, but he also looked a bit confused with the furrow of his brows. "なぜ私をそこに連れて行くのですか?" he asked. ["Why are you taking me there?"]

Chuuya sighed and didn't bother with a reply. Instead, they walked around to the side of the building, where there were only a few people in line to get tickets. Chuuya loved Paris in the fall—no crowds of tourists at every major destination. Besides, the leaves were so beautiful.

He bought two tickets for them—Dazai made to get out his wallet, but Chuuya stopped him despite the amusing sight—and they made their way into a blissfully empty museum.

"Okay, let's grab a notebook." Chuuya tugged on Dazai's arm again—he hadn't let go of him yet—and couldn't help but chuckle at the awestruck expression he was met with.

The d'Orsay was quite the sight to behold, especially for people outside of Europe. Sculptures covered the entire first floor and carved roses covered the ceiling, each one the size of a person. It was one of Chuuya's favorite buildings in Paris—the clocks were magnificent, and he loved all the green with the windows on either end. Who would have thought it used to be a train station?

They made their way into the gift shop and Chuuya purchased one pen and an overpriced notebook with a Monet painting on the cover. Once they got to the beginning of the actual museum, Chuuya opened to the first blank page.

"'Kay, let's see." He settled on drawing the two of them (stick figures, obviously) surrounded by rudimentary sketches of a few paintings, the Eiffel Tower, the Arc de Triomphe, and a mirror for Versailles, accompanied by question marks above each of their heads. "Here."

He handed Dazai the notebook and watched, eyes narrowed, as he attempted to decipher the drawing. After a few moments of silence, he seemed to understand, because his lips popped into an 'o' shape and he nodded, meeting Chuuya's gaze.

Dazai's eyes were sharp, Chuuya had decided. Usually, he thought brown eyes were gentle and doe-like, a bit like Higuchi's, but Dazai's weren't. They weren't cold either, but perhaps calculating? Like there was too much going on behind them for most people to comprehend. He could always tell when Dazai was looking at him—his skin would go warm and prickly and he just knew.

"いい感じだ、" was Dazai's reply, almost soft enough to be a whisper. ["Sounds good."]

Chuuya nodded decisively, taking that as confirmation. "Good. Let's get going, then."