Let me be your canvas

Chapter 1

 Dazai was bored, thoroughly, utterly bored of the luxurious life he was living. Sure, he could buy anything he wanted with just a swipe of his card, and he was always surrounded by bodyguards who made sure no harm ever came to him. But that was exactly the problem, every part of his days felt controlled, observed, and predictable. More than anything, he just wanted to walk down a street, step into a shop, or wander around town without being trailed by crowds of excited fangirls or recognized at every turn. 

That was why, today, he'd slipped out on his own wearing what he called a "disguise" though really, it was little more than a soft, wide-brimmed hat pulled low over his face. It barely hid him at all, but it was better than nothing. 

He wandered aimlessly for a while, until his eyes landed on exactly the kind of place he'd been hoping to find: a tattoo studio. It was a small, unassuming shop tucked away down a quiet side street, far from the busy main roads where everyone knew his face. 

He pushed the door open and stepped inside, and was immediately greeted by a receptionist with bright pink hair, who looked up from her desk with a warm smile. 

"Hello, miss! Please just go take a seat in the lobby, I'm sure the tattoo artist will be with you soon," she said cheerfully. 

Dazai nodded politely and murmured a quiet thanks, then walked over to the waiting area and sat down. He didn't bother to correct her about the "miss" part, it happened all the time. Between his slender frame, soft features, and the way he carried himself, people often mistook him for a woman at first glance. He'd long since gotten used to it, and today, he thought, it might even help him blend in a little better. 

After a few minutes of sitting quietly, he glanced up and noticed a group of men in the corner of the room staring directly at him. Their looks weren't friendly, far from it. Most of them were covered head to toe in tattoos, dressed in rough, worn clothes, and carried themselves with a rough, dangerous sort of confidence that made it obvious they belonged to some kind of gang.

Dazai felt a small knot of unease tighten in his chest, but he stayed still, hoping they'd lose interest and look away. 

They didn't.

Eventually, one of them, clearly the leader, judging by the way the others looked to him, stood up and sauntered over, stopping right in front of Dazai and blocking him in. 

He was tall and broad-shouldered, and he loomed over Dazai, pressing him slowly back until his shoulders hit the wall behind him. Within seconds, the rest of the group had followed, forming a loose circle around him so he had nowhere to go. 

Dazai was tall himself, but he stood just under six feet, while almost every one of these men towered over that mark, with thick, muscular builds that made him feel small and fragile in comparison. 

The leader leaned in closer, a smirk twisting his lips."Aren't you just a pretty little doll," he purred, his voice low and mocking. He leaned further still, dragging his tongue slowly up the side of Dazai's neck, making him shudder with disgust. "How about you come back to my place with us, huh? We could have a whole lot of fun together." 

The other men laughed and whooped, calling out crude comments and egging him on. 

Dazai's heart was hammering in his chest. He knew he should be able to handle this, knew he was used to crowds and attention, but this was nothing like the admiration he got from fans. This was sharp, hungry, and threatening. 

He swallowed hard, forcing himself to speak, though his voice came out quieter and more timid than he would have liked. 

"Please... stop..." 

The leader threw his head back and laughed loudly. "You hear that, boys? She said 'please stop'!" 

The rest of them roared with laughter, the sound echoing around the small room. Dazai felt trapped, helpless, and completely unsure what to do next, until the door leading to the back workrooms opened, and another man walked past the group and out of the shop. 

A few moments later, someone else stepped out: a man with bright, messy ginger hair, holding a tattoo gun loosely in one hand, ink-stained gloves still on his hands. 

This must be the artist, Dazai realized.The man's eyes scanned the room quickly, and in an instant, his expression shifted from tired and neutral to sharp and angry, as he spotted Dazai pressed against the wall and surrounded by the group. 

"Oi! What the hell do you think you're all doing?" he snapped, his voice sharp and loud enough to cut through the noise. 

The leader spun around to face him, looking annoyed at being interrupted, but trying to act casual. "Ah, Chuuya, me and the boys here were just... having a little chat. Nothing to worry about." 

"Bullshit," Chuuya shot back, stepping forward until he was standing right in front of them, small but fierce. "I saw exactly what was going on. Get out. All of you. Right now."

"Wait, what?" The leader blinked, looking offended. "You can't just kick us out, we're regulars here!"

"Not anymore you aren't," Chuuya retorted sharply, crossing his arms over his chest. "I don't care who you are or how many times you've been here, I'm not having people like you harassing customers in my shop. Now leave, before I call the cops and have you all thrown out for good."

"C'mon Chuuya, don't be like that," one of the other men cut in, trying to smooth things over. "We didn't mean any harm, right? Just a bit of fun, that's all."

"Fun? You call cornering someone and making them uncomfortable 'fun'?" Chuuya scoffed, his eyes flashing. "I don't want to hear it. You're making my place look like garbage and scaring people off. If you've got something to say, say it outside, otherwise, get lost. This is my studio, and I decide who stays and who goes."

The group argued back and forth for a few more minutes, trying to argue, bargain, or even threaten, but Chuuya didn't back down once, standing his ground until it was clear they weren't going to change his mind. Grumbling and muttering insults under their breath, the men finally turned and left, slamming the door behind them.

Once they were gone, the room fell quiet again. Dazai stayed where he was for a moment, still pressed against the wall, his heart slowly starting to calm down. 

He looked across the room at Chuuya, who was watching him carefully, his expression softening a little once the others were gone.Chuuya tilted his head slightly toward the open door leading to the back rooms, his tone now calm and steady.

"Come on. In here with me. You'll be safe."

Dazai didn't hesitate. He pushed himself off the wall, walked over, and followed Chuuya inside.