Note: I apologize again for how spaced-out updates are. I honestly should write a bunch and post one at a time, but I like to dump thousands of words and then space it out- there's 7 weeks between each break for school, so I try desperately to update during these breaks... Also, I know I typically lean towards a focus on Dazai, so this chapter is a bit different, seeing more in that 3rd-person focus around Chuuya, enjoy!
Sitting with the drapes slightly peeled open, Chuuya's legs laid outstretched, his finger gripping at the tips of his shoes bent over stretching as he typically found himself doing when bored. He sat back, tilting his head towards his ceiling with a sigh. "I just don't know what to do, Shirace." The phone next to him, plugged into an outlet while open to a call, had a group of three listening in. "He's still closed off, It's been... what a month or more? And he's just as fucking frustrating as ever. I don't get his deal and he won't really tell me what the hell's going on." His hands came up, taking down the clips that held his bangs from his forehead.
He turned his eyes from the ceiling to the phone as silence followed his complaints. "Take him out, idiot. He's clearly unsure himself of what to do when it comes to you. Plus, we all know how he is by now. He doesn't feel like burdening others and he's just trying to keep himself from something." Yuan's voice filtered through the air as Chuuya tossed himself to stand, leaning over to grab his phone from the floor. The ginger never was good with conversations about feelings and such. He's got his own issues to deal with, it's not as severe as his partners, or whatever they are now. God that confuses him so much. He doesn't get close to very many people, given a certain fear of being left behind, or put to the side and seen as being less important. He's got severe issues with his temper too. Dazai really tests those limits sometimes, but he can never really stay mad. It always ends up with this weird caring feeling he both hates but loves at once.
Chuuya's lips parted in a sigh as he rummaged through his closet for something comfortable but fashionable. "Do you think I haven't tried that? He's an annoying mackerel slimy and slippery like a fish too. One second I think I've caught him, and the next he's slipped away again. For every moment of progress I make with him, we end up slipping right back. There's nothing new yet... Gah! It's frustrating! The semester's gonna be over and... what if we lose him? He doesn't seem like he has plans to stay. Have you seen the grades? Hardly passing, I swear he's only going to classes 'cause he knows I'll have his ass handed to him if he skips and fails out this quarter." Chuuya sets the phone down on the stand beside his bed, before his hands tangle in his hair, pulling with slight frustration. If this was the first two months of the year, he'd be glad for it, wouldn't care, but it's that mackerel's fault he's come to enjoy seeing the rare moment where his laughter is genuine. He's seen him go through so much in less than a year... it's brought them closer, the only people who can truly understand each other.
"When was the last time you two went out to a fair or some sort of festival? You could both use the relaxation, plus maybe being around music and that sorta atmosphere will get you both to lighten up. You differently need it... you know, you've gotta relax a little. If you keep stressing about the upcoming end-of-the-year crap, you'll go nuts like you do every year. It would be a nightmare if you strained something and the best dancer had to sit out a comp." Shirase didn't seem too interested in the current conversation, but he's always there for his buds when he needs to be. That's something Chuuya's always appreciated about the kid. Chuuya can get a good sarcastic laugh in with the words the other speaks on his side of the line.
Slipping on his shoes, he glances at the clock, another sigh parting his lips. "Oh come on... that's a little cliche, don't ya think? That's what started this, ya know, going to that fair and dancing together... that's when shit started to really fester..."
Chuuya could almost hear the smirk on his friends' lips with the next words that came from his phone. "Exactly the reason why you should go! Come on Chuuya, think about it for a moment? It'll show that you aren't lying and you're serious about wanting to help him. We all know you like him and he does too, but he's blocking that crap out, and not gonna lie here man, it's getting on everybody's nerves. Just patch things up already. Things being awkward with ya is getting old." Chuuya rolled his eyes as he glanced in his mirror, flattening out any folds or wrinkles in his outfit.
"Fine, I'll ask or drag him out if he says no. I've gotten pretty good at dragging that mackerel around when I need to. If this goes south, I'm gonna have your heads ya know." He clicks his tongue, reaching to end the call just when Yuan spoke up in a rush.
"Come on, it'll be fine! Just don't get caught drinking underage!" Chuuya shakes his head as he hangs up. Seriously? Listen, just because that happened once or twice doesn't mean he actively decides to break the law. Plus, alcohol is bad for his heart rate, and he has been trying not to strain it... too much. He just has to be a sliver more careful now since the last episode. He's been fine since then, hasn't had anything act up, and he certainly hasn't felt anything wrong in quite a while.
The phone in his hand weighed heavily in his palm as his eyes stared at the brunette's contact. It's always like this now, he's never sure whether he'll call him and be hung up on, or in the worst case, if his phone goes to voicemail and he's done something stupid... It's been a true and plausible outcome for a while now. He knows it's not getting any better, he's... he's more or less acting most of the time. It's like he's chained to a fate that he can't change. He doesn't know what it is that he won't change. A part of him truly worries he's set on killing himself by the end of the year, that he's only holding out for the year. It's so frustrating. Shaking his head, he lets the phone ring for a bit. The relief in his chest isn't something he ignores anymore when it's picked up on the first two rings. "Chibi's calling me? What do I owe the wonderful pleasure of the slug's gracious time today?!" That singsong tone masks an empty sort of sulking feeling. He pretends not to notice, not to see that he's still struggling beneath a weight that hasn't left since that day he came back after that absence.
"Get your ass out of bed, we're going out to do something. You're lucky I called beforehand, you damn mackerel. Do I have to keep reminding you that I've still got a little left to grow dumb-ass? If I get there and you're still in bed, I'll hit you upside the head." While the ginger's voice is set in an annoyed grumble, there are webs of fondness only Dazai would be able to pick up on through the other side of the line.
There's a heavy sigh and the rustling of blankets coming from the other side of the line. It's yet another spark of feeling in the petite male's chest. "I'd prefer if Chibi strangled me~ It would be so much more relaxing." So it's one of those days... where there's an empty pit in his stomach... he hates days like this. Days when Dazai spirals right back to where they started, despite the progress they had made to help him. It's not infuriating, simply frustrating, but he refuses to give up on the bastard. He refuses to let him slip through his fingers and leave him behind.
"Oh fuck off bastard, just get yourself ready, or do I need to do it for you?" Once more to bystanders, his tone is mocking, and at first look, it would seem he resents the brunette he's talking to. That's never the case, he's not sure it ever was the case. Dazai's... he's always just been confusing when it comes to their relationship. His words are caring, they're an offer to help in an aggressive way that almost makes it seem like he truly is annoyed by him. He knows that Dazai sees through him, and reads him like his every word is something displayed elegantly written in a book. Just as Dazai makes no effort to communicate himself, Chuuya needs only to observe his jokes, the way they are said, and the movements of his body to read him like a coded manuscript. He'll never truly understand Dazai, but that's the beauty of it. They fit together like two unique pieces in a puzzle. There's a running thought he sometimes entertains, in another life they could have been the best of partners, knowing the other's move, being able to code their own language to tell things about another's words without having to think too hard... that's their sort of vibe, two people who should be enemies who have every right to look at each other with annoyance, yet are drawn to each other with no real reason... There's so much they don't know about each other, so much that tries to keep them apart, but more than that they keep pulling towards each other, connected even through the worst sides of themselves.
"This slug is in a bitter mood today! Did you not drink your milk?! I'll be ready all on my own in a few minutes. Will Chibi grace poor ole me with a joy ride today?" Chuuya's brows knit together as he cussed under his breath. If he didn't know his way around the bastard's words, he'd have slammed the phone shut and told him to suck it... but he knows those words. The mocking jests are Dazai's protective countermeasures, trying to shoo him away in an attempt to distance himself. Which, like hell, was he going to fall victim to. He's used to the insults, and though they piss him off, and make him want to punch the cocky bastard, he's come to expect them... he'd never admit it, but in his absence, he's sure to miss the nagging of the taller half of this relationship.
Humming Chuuya shrugs, grabbing his keys, just so Dazai would have his answer without Chuuya needing to say anything. He hung up the phone with one last look in the mirror. Honest to God, how did he get involved with somebody like this? What aching curse keeps him wanting to go back, keeps his trust on him, so that no matter how much he's hurt, he keeps trying to lift Dazai back up and have something?
Much to his surprise, he was able to see Dazai waiting for him outside. The eye-bags were the first tell that he'd been up either all night or had slept maybe two hours at max last night. Chuuya says nothing, he knows it will create an awkward aura. A situation he'd like to prevent when he's trying to show Dazai they do have trust, that there shouldn't be anything keeping him from leaning on him again. "Come on idiot." He hums, tossing a helmet to Dazai, whose lips manage to curl to the slightest smile as he slid the helmet on and straddled the seat, placing his arms around Chuuya's waist.
The sensation is always the same when they're like this, it's a moment Chuuya would forever savor. It's as if they are one, Dazai's head rests on his shoulders, his arms around him just tight enough to be felt, but not enough to be uncomfortable. It's peaceful, and he always seems lighter like this. Dazai's stupidly light to begin with, but like this, he's like a feather resting on his back. He seems as if the troubles lift for a moment. They're both touch-starved. He may be starved for affection in more ways than Chuuya, but that ginger never acknowledges it with words, but rather helps through actions. He's never been good with words anyways. Dazai reached out to him for help, and so he's been determined to help him. "Don't go too fast." Chuuya's hands tightened around the handles with a nod. He's feeling the physical symptoms of it today than... Why ask for the bike? He'd have given him comfort in some other way. They could stay in... to respect the privacy of the other, he doesn't ask if he'd like to stay in. He'd only get a laugh or some kind of joke if he did. Dazai's no good with words either.
They head off at a leisurely pace, the wind still slapping against their helmets, but nothing too harsh. They're silent for the ride, and Dazai clings to Chuuya, something he appreciates. He knows that Dazai's gotten a little better, there's been progress that sticks, even if only by a centimeter of difference, it's something. He'll get better, he'll recover at some point, Chuuya will make sure of that... somehow. When they pull up, Chuuya slips off first, even if he wouldn't mind sitting idle for a moment or two. They have a goal... Well, he has a goal to accomplish today. He slips his helmet off, giving his hair a shake, before his eyes settle on Dazai with a small smirk. He's staring again, he's used to the brunette staring when he does little things like this, yet it still spikes his confidence a little. As expected, when Dazai realizes he was caught his lips part. "Chibi's hair is a mess today, he looks like a little kid." Chuuya rolls his eyes as he sets the helmet away and takes Dazai's from him.
"And the mackerel looks like an old man." He taunts back watching Dazai's reactions.
"Slug has been demoted to those ugly slugs today." Chuuya rolled his eyes again, pointing out a finger to Dazai's hidden compliment.
"Mackerel has also lost his scales and looks like puffer fish instead today." Dazai gasped, holding his hand over his heart.
"How dare the ugly slug take away the pretty scales of this poor soul? Whatever would I do without my charm?" Chuuya snorts as he kicks the other in a light-hearted fashion.
"You started it, bandages." Dazai feigned hurt again, his hand over his forehead. Chuuya's eyes watched his theatrics each time, despite the slight annoyance they caused him here and there. There's this sense of amusement that only Dazai's feigned dramatics of emotions can bring him. He grabs onto the male's arm, dragging him to the entrance he pays for both despite the small protest Dazai gives him.
The music in the air relaxes him, and he can tell Dazai's gone from being tense to feeling as if he can lower his guard a smidgen, which the ginger takes as a small win. It's a fair, so he drags the taller around for games. His favorite is that paintball game. He's a good shot, surprisingly. "Come on, I'll win you something."
"Chibi, these games are rigged and something so short, like you, would never be able to win!" Dazai huffed, though there was a fondness in his eyes, curiosity to see the smaller perform. Chuuya cocks a smirk, stretching out his arms, and cracking his knuckles as he does so. As if he's saying, just you wait, he hands over a quarter and grabs the plastic gun. He waits for the bell and fires. They walk away with a giant stuffed animal.
Chuuya's hands rest behind his head, a whistle coming from his lips. "And you doubted me."
Dazai rolled his eyes as they continued walking, silent for a moment. "You just got lucky." The probability of that working out was small, but perhaps he had underestimated Chuuya? The ginger in question could only click his tongue annoyed as they walked around. "I'm gonna get us something to snack on... slushies probably, don't go and wander off."
Dazai found a bench to sit on, while Chuuya gave him a dead-serious narrow of the eyes, not quite a glare. "Awe, Chuuya is worried I'd get lost. I'd be more worried about you getting lost. I can't see you half the time, you're just so small." Seriously? Chuuya irks and flicks Dazai on the forehead with a small cuss before walking off. Once out of sight, his shoulders slump and he smiles to himself lightly. Though hardly noticeable, Dazai's improved from what he'd sounded like on the phone. Does he like his company or is it merely the fact he's around an environment that is known for bringing smiles to people?
Chuuya will take today as another win either way... it's hard enough to do this, to help him find grounding on days like this, so just seeing him a little less slumped is a miracle. Miracles can happen, and he's going to make one happen for Dazai. He gets them two slushies, knowing Dazai wouldn't eat, so at least this is a little bit of substance. He'd get him to have dinner tonight, hopefully. The wait takes around fifteen minutes, but he doesn't worry, it's not like Dazai would run off and get himself into trouble. No, that's exactly something he'd do, but not on a day like this, not while he's hardly in the mood to move on his own.
He takes a seat where Dazai was, noting he'd probably gotten up since he'd changed what side of the table he was sitting at. It's only confirmed seeing the empty cup in front of him. Chuuya groans, picking it up and giving it a whiff. It's Dazai's height and such that makes it easy for him to get away with this stuff. He looks old enough to drink, and he's probably used to constantly having a fake I.D. on him. "Seriously Dazai? I leave you alone for what? 15?" Chuuya grumbles, watching Dazai shrug and lay his head on the table as he stares at Chuuya. He reaches for the slushie, and sips on it, his lips pursing as he sticks out his tongue. "Coulda told ya you wouldn't like that one, idiot. This one's yours." Chuuya slides the other drink to him.
"I know, I wanted to try Chibi's." Chuuya clicks his tongue... definitely drunk. "How come Chibi's not scolding me?" Chuuya sighs, running his hands over his face. He swears this kid is going to be the death of him. "I can understand everybody, but you're always doing something I don't expect you to do. You were supposed to be busy today, like you said, and you changed your mind to drag me outside. I'm not worth canceled plans, and yet you come to rescue sleeping beauty without fail..." Chuuya stares at Dazai, he'd nearly forgotten how Dazai gets when he's near passing out from drinking. He's not loud or anything, he's just... quiet... honest... open, like the walls no longer exist. Even though they are very much there, there's less of a filter over what he says, so it only looks like the walls have fallen apart.
"You asked me to help you. I saw the worst parts of you... I don't take that lightly." Chuuya does not break people's trust on purpose. He does not abandon people in need. He... reached out. Dazai reached out, and he'd be damned if he let him think he didn't care. He already messed up once, and he's not going to let that happen again. Everything is out now, the condition, who he's seeing for it... all of this is out in the open between them, so now they can focus on healing, on moving forwards.
Dazai laid his head face down on the table, and Chuuya in turn looked at him with his head tilted and a brow raised. "I really like Chibi... It's not fair, he must have cursed me." Chuuya rolls his eyes as Dazai looks back at him with the following silence: his eyes are searching for something from the ginger.
There's so much he wants to respond with. So much he'd like to say, yet the words are stuck in his throat, and what scrambled mix of words that leave the ginger's lips are not the truth of what he thinks they are, of what he wants between them. Then again... does he even know what he wants between them? Does he know how to label the feelings that only occur with Dazai? "Well, duh. This mackerel likes a slug because... 'cause we're friends." There's a frown on Dazai's face, and Chuuya finds himself staring in slight confusion over the sight. He's always expressively drunk... hundreds of times easier to understand than the coded movements he makes sober. Yet, he can't tell why the other is frowning at the moment. "Alright Dazai, let's get you back to your dorm."
There must have been more Dazai wanted to say, Chuuya could sense it, yet the brunette didn't speak a word. Friends felt wrong on his tongue, but without Dazai's words filling the current silence, he could do nothing but let that be the world around them for the time being. What are they? He'd thought at one point... perhaps they were more than friends, but now... he can't be sure.