Chapter Text
Drinks On Me
Dazai bolted across campus, notebooks in his hand. Not only was he incredibly late for class, but also for his midterm exam -something he could not miss without sacrificing his grade. He looked insane; he was sure of it. His brunette hair was still damp from a quick shower, his outfit was hardly an outfit at all, just his tan jacket, and his cheeks having a dent from sleeping. On his run, he bumped into a student with papers, which flew up and around her almost comedically.
He winced and turned around quickly, still running, “Sorry!”
Dazai had six minutes to get to his first exam before he’d be turned away by his annoying and ancient-looking Professor, Dr. Hirotsu, who was known to be adamant that students get to both class and exams on time, and had happily shut out Dazai twice before when he’d been late to class last semester, with no remorse for whatever excuses Dazai had.
He sighed, glancing around the outside of the building, trying to calculate in his head a faster way to get inside. His class building's entrance had an unfortunate amount of stairs, and Dazai knew he wouldn’t make it if he entered that way. He looked, and looked, and looked and- there! From afar, he saw a young man with red hair scanning an entrance with different items and a drink in hand. Dazai watched as the scanner turned from red to green, and the man shuffled with papers, folders, his bag, and a local coffee shop’s warm cup of what Dazai could only assume was coffee. The random man was his only hope, so Dazai sped around the building and across the yard, around the pathway. For all the times he had to sit awkwardly in desks and on buses, Dazai was grateful for once that he was tall and that, subsequently, his legs were long.
The man was almost inside when Dazai yelled in desperation, “Wait!”
The ginger turned sharply, a look of perplexion evident on his face, and oh boy, was he hot. He had a similar hair length to Dazai’s, just above his shoulders, except his was styled into a rather elegant half-manbun, its orange-red color bright in the rising sun. His face was sprinkled with differently sized freckles, each in shades of light-brown to dark in parts that had seen more sun. His jawline was sharp as fuck, a V-shape, and he had a more feminine look for a guy. He wore a black jacket with a royal blue turtleneck, and in his hand he held his items, some textbooks, notebooks, iPad, and a coffee cup, close to his chest against his sleek waist. But perhaps the main attribute Dazai noticed was this man’s eyes; they were like sapphires. Dazai had seen plenty of people with blue eyes throughout his lifetime, but he couldn’t recall a time he’d seen eyes like his, which stood out next to his fluffy red hair and matched his turtleneck perfectly.
Dazai wasn’t sure how long he had stared at this man, but eventually he opened his mouth, a rough and irritated voice in contrast to his softer features, “Well? What the fuck do you want? I have somewhere to be, you know?”
Right. Dazai needed to get to class. For his exam. That's what he was doing.
“I need to get in. I’m late.” He said very rushed. He glanced down at his watch. He only had six minutes.
The redhead shook his head and repeated, almost as though he was reading out a guide, “Sorry, students can’t get in unless they are a faculty or TA.” He looked Dazai up and down skeptically in a way that pissed Dazai off. “Are you a Scott's faculty or TA?”
Dazai cringed slightly and paused. “....Yes?”
He looked unimpressed and gave him a dead, unapologetic stare. “Look, you’re clearly not. Just go in the normal way, like everyone else. It won’t kill you; I promise.”
Okay, now he was legitimately pissed. What was this guy's problem? It wouldn’t hurt him to let him in.
He took a breath to calm himself and leaned in like a friend, hoping he could use his normal level of charm on him. Dazai learned as soon as he matured just how much you could get away with when you’re good with words and have good looks. “As I explained, I’m going to be late. Look, man, just let me in; it won’t happen again. This,” He pointed between them with a warm smile, “can stay between us.”
He barely let Dazai finish. “Sorry, no special privileges.” He said it flatly, not sounding even slightly remorseful, and tried to move around him and inside, as Dazai moved closer towards the open door.
Dazai gritted his teeth and dropped his act. “Well, that’s too bad. I’m going in regardless!” He attempted to push past him, but the smaller guy jammed himself in front of him. For such a small man, he was relatively strong and gripped the door with ferocity.
“What’s your problem?” He yelled, a fire sparking in his blue eyes. “You-” grunt, “freakishly,” grunt, “tall,” grunt, “Mother-” grunt, “fucker!”
“My problem!? You’re the one in my way!” He attempted to move past him again, but was blocked.
“You asshole! I’m not letting you in.”
“Sorry about this, love!” He drawed back and with one final draw back, the redhead was pushed out of the doorway, and Dazai bolted past him.
“Shit!” He heard the man yell as he fell back on the ground, his coffee tilting towards him and spilling on his long jacket. “This isn’t over!” He yelled, and Dazai was thankful he did not chase after him. He groaned, holding his side with a murderous expression. Damn, Dazai thought, he’s almost intimidating.
“I’m counting on it!” Dazai giggled as he ran all the way down the hallway, around a corner, and just in front of his classroom. He smiled brightly like a little kid on Christmas morning. Moments like these for Dazai were what made him feel real again. He liked winning. He pushed open the door.
Inside the classroom, where Dr. Hirotzu shot a glance at him, seeing that he was 30 seconds from being late, Dazai sat down and caught his breath as the exam began. He still had a smile stuck on his face and laughed at how he’d probably never see that young man again and have to deal with the consequences of his actions. Dazai’s favorite combo.
Oh, how he was wrong.
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
After having hot coffee spilled on him, Chuuya stood in the bathroom of the English department, scrubbing as hard as he could of his business jacket with water, his mood now soured by the ordeal.
“That fucking prick.” He muttered to himself.
An unfortunate ongoer in the bathroom passed by at the same time, giving him a confused look as he wiped his hands and left the bathroom, Chuuya giving a half-hearted sorry to the poor guy, before turning back to scrubbing uselessly.
Chuuya was going to kill that man; he was sure of it. He would find out who he was and fuck up his life for what he did. Even though it was only some coffee, the man was clearly another student who was not permitted entry through the staff and TA door, and had ruined Chuuya’s favorite jacket, all with a smug look on his stupidly attractive face. He’s always been quick to anger and easy to be act on revenge, and this was no exception.
He decided to lose his Jacket entirely, tucking it into his bookbag, sticking to a royal blue turtleneck that seemed all too bright without his black jacket. He felt so loudly ginger at its contrast.
When he entered into her office with a sigh, Dr. Kouyo stared at him with a quizzical expression as she turned in her rolling chair to find her TA looking so enraged.
“What’s got you so pissed? You look like you’re about to burn down the world. On your period or something?” She asked. She’d always been blunt with Chuuya, and though she was a few years older than the twenty-year-old, he’d always felt like he was talking to a peer or friend. Dr. Kouyo wore a business-casual soft-red blazer outfit, her red hair put up in a messy bun.
Chuuya only huffed a harsh chuckle back as he pulled out his laptop to discuss how he was supposed to grade assignments. He could find out who the student was and murder him later; for now, he was getting paid.
She decided not to bring it up again, respecting his space. It wasn’t abnormal to find him upset at even the most trivial matters, though she did wonder who had managed to piss off Chuuya this time.
“I have a new task for you, Nakahara. I know you’re used to making and grading the assignments, but for now, I need you to grade these papers for Hirotsu.”
“Do I have to?” He groaned, already exhausted. “This isn’t even your class.”
She smiled apologetically, “I know, but since their TA’s been out sick already and will probably be out for a while, you’ll be working with Dr. Hirotsu too.”
Chuuya sighed, accepting his fate. “At least I’m getting paid.”
“At least we’re getting paid.” Kouyo agreed.
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After Dazai had finished his exam, he felt a deep satisfaction in himself that led him to laying out on his dorm sofa playing on his Nintendo. It was quiet. He glanced at his roommate’s empty and plain bed, folded neatly. He had barely seen the little, white-haired guy and wondered where he went early each day until late at night, and accepted he would never know him or have much of a chance to know him.
He played Legend of the Wild until he started feeling lazy and mad at himself for relaxing. He should be studying. Or doing anything productive.
He opened his laptop and could only find the will to stare at his assignment. He was trying to finish the creative writing assignment before it was due, instead of a day beforehand like he always did. He hated his ADHD sometimes. He still worked just as hard as other students, and although he knew his intellect was never in question, it felt and looked as though he didn’t care. Truthfully, he lived in turmoil with each assignment and paper.
He wouldn’t get his first exam grade back for at least another week, maybe more, since the professor announced their TA was going to be absent for a while. His anxiety would just have to fester.
Ding-a-ling-a-ding. Ding-a-ling-a-ding. Ding-a-ling-a-ding. Ding-a-ling-a-ding.
Dazai’s phone suddenly rang with an ominous tone that was only set for one person. The sound began quietly and slowly crescendoed in tone and volume, going up one more note than before. He could feel himself go pale. His father had that effect on him.
He sat up in his seat before he picked up, “Hello, Dad.”
“Hello, son.” He said in his sulky, deep voice that always seemed to elongate certain words.
“Did you need something?” Dazai practically sneered with a fake grin on his face to mask the internal resentment he had for him.
“Only to say that I saw your last report.” He sighed. “A 76%? Really?”
Dazai let out his own sigh. Of course, he had seen it. “You’re not supposed to be able to access my grades. That’s illegal.”
“I’m the head of the English department; I can access what I wish.”
Dazai took a breath and decided not to argue with his logic, since his father would access what he liked when he liked, but instead to end the conversation as soon as possible. He knew better because, as intelligent as his Dad was, he was predictable. “I’ll do better on my next assignment, Father. And I’m sure the writing assessment test I took today was more than a passing grade.”
“It better be.” Dazai gritted his teeth at his words. “People will begin to question my own ability if my son can’t match his classmates. I expect you to be ahead of your class by the end of your semester.” It just began! he thought about saying, but gave up as the ability to argue against his dad left him once again. His dad paused as if to think. “Goodbye.” And with that, he hung up.
Dazai practically threw the phone across the room in a short, almost tantrumed rage, crashing into his roommate's small plant; the pot it was in shattered across the dorm floor, and dirt spattered across the carpet and on his desk. Damnit, Dazai thought to himself, another person is angry at me. Though he supposed he could handle his roommate’s wrath, he was sure it was nothing like his father’s.
He picked up what he could and left an apology note, leaving the plant in a small, cheap plastic eating bowl of Dazai’s, the one he’d eat ramen out of. He’d have to buy another bowl.
He sat still for a few minutes in his own anxiety until he stood and shook his hands and legs a few times to wake them up, and then dressed in a black cropped hoodie and sweatpants.
He could worry about Dad later. For now, he needed to blow off some much-needed steam.
Then, Dazai hit call on one of his friends’ contacts. When they answered, he said, “Rampo?”
“Yes, Osamu?” His friend asked hopefully. Dazai was more closed off, and it was usually Rampo or Yosano who called.
“We’re going out for drinks. It’s on me.”
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Rampo and Yosano picked him up at his dorm, Yosano, their upperclassman, driving in her minivan. It had been a minute since he really appreciated the too. All summer, he was stuck in summer school, like his dad insisted, and missed out on countless weekend trips and parties they kept inviting him to. This outing was necessary for Dazai to prove that he wasn’t a totally useless and absent friend.
“Ready, kids!” Yosano cheered.
“Aye, aye, Captain!” Rampo and Dazai cheered, chuckling.
“I can’t hear you?”
“Aye, aye, captain!”
Dazai let out a loud laugh he hadn’t made in a while. God, he loved these two. At least they didn’t seem mad at him for his absence.
“So, what’s the plan tonight? Get drunk? Get laid? Get drunk and then laid?” Yosano inquired, turning on some music that they began to jam to. She wore a white band t-shirt and long flared jeans with combat boots, her hair tied up with a claw clip. Rampo had decided to stay flush against Dazai in the middle backseat. He gripped onto his arm tightly, like Dazai was about to disappear if he let go, which made Dazai feel a pang of guilt even though Rampo had insisted it was okay. Dazai shook away his thoughts both mentally and physically, trying to remain present, and looked down at Rampo’s Kawaii-inspired look of a baby blue shirt with a yellowish-tan sleeveless jacket and pants, his chunky shoes matching his shirt.
Dazai petted his very layered hair friendly, and said, “Whatever needs to happen as long as I forget about school.”
“I’m just here to see Poe!” Rampo exclaimed, making Dazai snort.
“Down that bad, Rampo?” He asked, peering down as his short friend again with a smirk.
Yosano chimed in, “Oh, he’s down bad, bad. Over the summer, Poe became part of our camping group. They were head over heels, Dazai! I even convinced them to ” She said, peering at him through the mirror. “The boys are practically dating but too scared to say anything.”
Rampo hid his head in his hands against Dazai’s side, a blush bright on his face, and Dazai said, “Well, were just going to have to change that, aren’t we?”
Rampo hit his side playfully with the back of his hand. “I don’t know what you’re planning, but don’t you dare, Dazai! I’m serious!”
“Too late!” He said mischievously, formulating a plan with his palms rubbing against each other like an evil Disney Channel villain. Rampo pushed him again and they fake-fought, laughing like elementary school students again the whole ride there.
Yosano, Dazai, and Rampo parked and walked together to the “Old Town” Party, just outside the city, and in the abandoned town. It used to be a small town, about only two blocks wide, that was abandoned by a government raid that shut it down
when there were too many illegal activities happening by Scott University students. Now the area was used for casual partying and drinking.
There were stringlights across the old buildings creating a light atmosphere and where it was darker was where groups usually set up fires in bins.
As the partying started and music came from people’s speakers, they made their way to where some of his English department buddies were set up.
Dazai saw several familiar faces, including Ango and Junichiro, who greeted him first. Rampo had met with Poe, a dark-haired emo student who mainly studied poetry, and Yosano stayed to help.
Everything was fine. Dazai had his beer, and his friends seemed happy. He sat by the fire about twenty feet from them for a quick break, relaxing for the first time that night.
Tonight, he didn’t have to worry about grades or his dad or his anxiety or ADHD or the fact that he thought of killing himself almost daily. Tonight, he was just Dazai sitting by the fire.
His joy was short-lived when he heard a male voice say, “Found you, dipshit,” and suddenly felt his fold-out chair be pushed forward from under him, and he fell to the Earth barely catching himself.
Dazai wiped his head around in confusion, more than rage. “What the-”
And that’s when Dazai saw him. The hot ginger guy, who he had spilled coffee on just this morning, stood over him. He had a black leather jacket on with jeans, but the worst thing he wore was a murderous expression. Damn; he was pissed.
Before he could say more, the guy poured beer on Dazai’s outfit over him and waited for him to stand up. Dazai dusted himself off quickly and simply said, “Hi.”
The man looked offended. “Hi? Is that all you have to say for yourself?”
“Well, yeah. That’s typically how you greet people.” Dazai replied. “I’m Osamu Dazai, by the way.” He stuck out his hand.
He swatted it away quickly and retorted, “I don’t care who you are. You spilled a drink on me, and I’m not going to forget that just because I know your name now!”
Dazai gave an awkward face and tried, “Sorry?”
“No. Not sorry! You ruined my jacket, dipshit! You spilled hot coffee on me. That shit burns!”
“You cuss a lot for someone so short.” He growled as he looked as though he was trying not to punch Dazai, and finally, Dazai tried to reason. “Hey, look. I’ll pay for your jacket, then we’ll be even.” He reached into his pocket and grabbed his wallet, handing more than enough cash to him.
He looked confused for a couple of minutes and then his face changed and he shook his head and brought his head down, shaking. Dazai’s heart jumped. Did he upset him that much and make him cry?
Dazai slowly brought his hand up to the guy’s shoulder, awkwardly about to soothe him, when the sound changed. He was laughing really hard. It was a manic type of laugh, one that you’d expect to hear when you’ve just heard the best joke of your life. Dazai’s blood ran cold. He’d met his match.
Finally, after standing there fearfully trying to figure out what on earth the guy was laughing about, he looked Dazai in the eyes with a cruel smile.
“You said your name was Osamu Dazai, right?” He sauntered closer until he was standing right in front of Dazai there faces inches away.
Dazai let out a small, practically a squeak, “Yeah?”
He beamed and said slowly, “Next time you mess with someone, make sure they’re not the TA grading your exam.”
Before he could react, or process what he could possibly say to that, the man walked away into the crowd, out of Dazai’s sight.
Oh, fuck.