Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Considering it was already October, the weather was still pretty good. He looked down at his worn out sneakers and was lost in thought when suddenly someone sat down next to him. That didn’t bother Osamu Dazai much, and he refocused on scrutinizing his shoes. He was bored, skipping school yet again today. Not that he particularly liked it there anyways. Quite the opposite, actually. 

“What a beautiful day.” A voice suddenly said next to him.
Dazai looked up, then to the side. The man who had sat next to him was looking at him and smiling. He had black hair, tied back. Around his neck hung a lanyard with some kind of ID. His shirt was white, perfectly ironed. Why was this guy trying to start a conversation now? Dazai guessed him to be about thirty. Maybe a little older or younger. It was hard to tell. Dazai just nodded silently.

“Say, don’t you have school?” the stranger asked.
“I do.” Dazai answered honestly. What could this man do about it anyway? It wasn’t his problem if some random boy was skipping class, hanging around at a public park. 

“Are you playing hooky then?” The man lit a cigarette.
“I guess so.” Dazai shrugged. Somehow he didn’t mind having a conversation to kill some time. He didn’t have anything better to do anyway. The stranger also didn’t seem threatening at all. Not the slightest trace of danger came from him. He was probably just very bored too. Maybe even the social butterfly type.

“I work over there at the hospital.” The man pointed toward the south exit of the park. A large building stood there. “I’m a doctor.”

A doctor? That actually worked out quite well. Dazai had countless questions and needed answers. Many answers. There was so much he wanted to talk about with a doctor, but until now he had never dared. It was uncomfortable to talk about things so private. He didn’t have the courage to just walk into a clinic and go through with everything that entailed. He simply lacked the guts.

“Cool.” Dazai said instead, nibbling on his lower lip.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell your school you’re skipping. I was once young too.” The man winked. Then, glancing at the boy’s uniform, he said: “So, Hitsuji Naka Middle School. I see. Do you like it there?”

Dazai didn’t have to think long about an answer. “No. I hate it there. I hate everything about it.”

“I see. Why’s that?” The man took a drag from his cigarette. He was really curious. 
“The other kids are all annoying and… mean.” Saying it out loud felt a little uncomfortable.

“Mean? I’m sorry to hear that. May I ask why?” Yes, the man indeed was pretty curious, but that didn’t bother Dazai. It wasn’t like he really had anyone else to talk to.

“Because I’m different. They make fun of me, say I’m… a girl." Dazai said quietly. The last part was barely audible. Just saying it made him feel sick.

For a few seconds, the doctor studied the boy intently. Then he nodded thoughtfully. “I understand. But being different is a good thing, believe me. As far as I can see, you’re a boy. That’s perfectly clear. Kids can be cruel. Still, you shouldn’t miss school. You want to get through this time as fast as possible, don’t you?”

“Yes.” Dazai said. Somehow the man radiated something calming and kind. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but there was something familiar about him. In a good way, that is.

“I should get going. Work calls. By the way, I’m Mori Ougai. Maybe we’ll see each other again.” He stood up, smiled, and left with his hands in his coat pockets. Dazai watched him for a while. What a shame—he would have loved to ask this man so many things. But that surely would have come across as strange. When would he ever get the chance again to chat with a real doctor in such a relaxed setting? Probably never.

...

Dazai turned his key in the lock and entered the small apartment. As always, it smelled of cigarette smoke and incense sticks. He took off his shoes, slipped into the old house slippers, and went inside. He tossed his backpack into the corner.

“Osamu-chan. How was school?” His mother appeared in the kitchen doorway. Dazai hated it when she called him -chan. She wore a dark green dress with a deep neckline. She always wore such revealing clothes. Her eyes were glassy—she had probably been drinking.

“Hello.” He said, ready to retreat into his room. He wanted to be alone.

“Wait a moment. I have something for you. A surprise.” His mother seemed excited about the so-called surprise, but Dazai had a bad feeling. He knew his Mother very well. 

He followed her into the kitchen, where a full glass of wine sat next to an almost empty bottle. Typical. Noon and already drunk. She took a sip and gestured toward a square box lying on the table. A pink ribbon was tied around it. Dazai’s heart grew unbearably heavy.

“For you!” His mother picked up the box and handed it to her son.

Dazai felt his stomach twist into knots, his brows furrowed, and he forced himself to hold it together as best he could. “Thank you.”

He quickly untied the ribbon and set it on the table. Then he carefully lifted the lid from the box.

“Since you don’t like pink, I thought maybe a blue one would please you,” his mother said.

Through gritted teeth, Dazai pulled the blue dress with white frills out of the box. He wanted to start crying, felt his lower lip begin to tremble. He wanted to tell his mother that he hated dresses. That he hated pink gift ribbons. That now he hated himself even more than usual. But all he whispered was a hoarse, “Thank you.”

“Aren’t you happy at all?” His mother took another sip. She looked somewhat disappointed. “I even went to the mall just for this. Just for you.”

“I… I don’t wear dresses.” Dazai whispered, eyes cast downward.

“I don’t understand. I just don’t understand.” The woman spoke more to herself than to him. “What’s wrong with you? Why can’t you be happy? Why can’t you just be normal? Do you know what it’s like for me? How embarrassing it was when I had to talk to your school principal because you refused to wear the girls’ uniform? You keep cutting your beautiful soft hair off! Why can’t you just behave like a normal girl? I have a daughter! I'm supposed to have a daughter! What the hell did I do wrong with you?” She drained the glass in one gulp.

Tears welled up in Dazai’s eyes. Those words hurt. They hurt unbearably. His mother didn’t want to accept him. She refused to acknowledge reality. And reality was that Osamu Dazai was a boy. He had always been a boy. That would never change. He knew that. But his mother made it harder than anything.

“I’m sorry,” he said, wiping his eyes with his sleeve before leaving the kitchen. He went to his room and curled up on his futon. The tears came, and for the countless time, Dazai wished he were someone else. But his wishes and prayers went unheard, as always.

...

When he sat on the bus the next morning (he had thought about that doctor’s words—that he should go to school so it would be over quickly), his forearm ached. Yesterday he hadn’t known what to do with all the sadness and frustration. Like most times in those moments, he had reached for the razor blade. For a moment, it always got better then. But only for a moment. What stayed was the stinging pain and the scars. But his mother had hurt him so badly yesterday. That wasn’t new, but every time, it was still awful. He was a stranger in his own home. 

The bus stopped, the doors opened with a hiss, and a few new passengers boarded. Dazai recognized the uniform of his school, and the boy wearing it sat down next to him.

Somehow Dazai couldn’t help but stare at him. He was unbelievably handsome. He looked foreign, and Dazai wanted badly to ask where he was from. His staring didn’t seem to go unnoticed, because the boy turned to Dazai and said:
“What the hell are you staring at?”

“Sorry,” Dazai mumbled, embarrassed.

“Oh! You go to Hitsuji Naka Chūgaku too?” the boy suddenly asked, didn't seem weirded out anymore at all. Yeah, Dazai had never seen him before. Maybe he was new here?

“Yes. Are you new?” Dazai asked.
The boy nodded. “Yep. Today’s my first day.”

His first day, huh. That meant this guy didn’t know who Dazai was, what the other kids said about him, or how they treated him. That was good. Maybe even a chance. 

“So where are you from?” Dazai wanted to know.
“France. But my dad is Japanese. We moved to Yokohama a week ago.”

“How cool! I’ve never been outside of Japan. What’s France like?” It was unusual for Dazai to talk so much. Normally he was more of a shy kid. 

“It’s alright, I guess. Warmer than over here. Say, is there anything I should know about the school before my first day?”

Dazai wondered if he should tell the truth. Then he said: “They can be pretty mean.”
The other raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? What do you mean?”

To avoid giving away too much about himself, Dazai said: “You’ll find out. Just don’t show any weakness.”
“I think that’s the same at every school.”
“Maybe.”

“I’m Nakahara Chuuya, by the way.” He held out his hand. An extremely Western gesture. Dazai thought that was kind of cool.
“I’m Osamu Dazai.” He hoped that maybe something like a friendship could grow between them, because the conditions were perfect. Chuuya didn’t know what a loser Dazai was, and he didn’t seem to notice anything about his secret either. Having a real friend had to be amazing! What must that feel like? And then someone as cool and mysterious as Chuuya, too!

Please, please, dear God! Make us become friends, Dazai prayed silently.

Then the bus stopped. They had to get off.

In silence they walked toward the school entrance next to each other. Then Dazai suddenly felt an arm around his waist. Fuck no...
“Well, what’s up, sweetie?” It was Tachihara. One of the guys who bullied Dazai. And now, of all times, in front of Chuuya—it was so damn embarrassing. 

“Let go of me,” Dazai whispered.
“What? I can’t hear you,” Tachihara grinned smugly.

“Bro, he said to leave him alone,” Chuuya suddenly said, standing in front of the other two now. How cool was that? No one had ever stood up for Dazai before. It was like a miracle.

“And you are?” Tachihara let go of Dazai. Thank goodness.
“Nakahara Chuuya. I’m new.”

The grin on Tachihara’s face widened. “Then I guess it’s time someone explained a thing or two to you, huh?” He looked over at Dazai, who felt his face flush red. This was going to be uncomfortable, and now he could forget about being friends with the new kid. What a shame. Dazai never got lucky. 

“So,” he continued. “Our little Dazai-chan is very confused. He actually thinks he’s a boy. Pretty weird, isn't it? He’s completely lost it.”

Chuuya grimaced. That was it. “I couldn’t care less. None of my fucking business. Besides, Dazai-kun looks like a boy to me, so I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with that information.”

What? No one had ever reacted so casually before. Was Chuuya for real? One thing was certain: he was too good for this world. Dazai’s heart suddenly started beating a little faster. Strange.

They left behind a completely dumbfounded Tachihara. He clearly hadn’t expected that kind of comeback. Dazai felt embarrassed, grateful, and completely at a loss for words all at once. It was a whole new feeling.

The school bell rang. Tachihara clicked his tongue. “Little bitch…” he hissed at Dazai, as he passed him, then went inside the building.

Chuuya looked at Dazai. “You alright?”
Dazai only nodded. Damn, that had been uncomfortable! “Thank you...I’ll… I’ll get going then,” he muttered, and, full of shame, made his way to his first class. What a strange start to the day.

...

It was lunch break. As always, Dazai had hidden himself away in the basement hallway. Hardly anyone ever spent their breaks down here besides him. So he crouched there, his back leaning against the wall, eating his bento. His mother never made one for him, so he bought them at the convenience store. Sometimes, though, he had no money and went the entire school day without eating. He was used to it, though. No wonder he was so skinny. 

He froze when he heard footsteps echoing down the corridor. They weren’t supposed to be down here during breaks. Hopefully it wasn’t a teacher. But turns out: no—it was much worse.

Dazai saw a very particular upperclassman approaching him. Anything but that, Dazai thought. He felt dizzy, anxiety washed over him. But he was frozen like stone.

“There you are, my cute little mouse,” Fyodor Dostoyevsky cooed, amused. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

Dazai couldn’t get a word out, only stared at him wide-eyed.

“You’re such a loser! Hiding down here like some idiot, eating your bento all alone. I’ve got something much better you can put in your mouth.”

“Now come on.” Fyodor grabbed Dazai firmly by the wrist and yanked him up. What was coming next was the thing he hated most of all. All the insults were nothing compared to it.

Fyodor dragged him into the boys’ bathroom. “Feels good to be in here, doesn’t it?” he grinned crookedly. Then he shoved Dazai against the cold tiled wall and whispered in his ear:
“You’ll never be a boy, and we both know how much you love it when I touch you. You love being treated like a girl.”

His hand closed around Dazai’s throat. Dazai couldn’t breathe; he made desperate choking sounds.

Then Fyodor started kissing his neck. Dazai wanted to leave. He wanted to disappear. He hated this so much. So. Much. He felt Fyodor’s tongue licking his skin and it made him sick. When the hand let go of Dazai’s neck, he whispered: „Please…s-stop…“ an attempt of hope. Obviously useless.

„But you love this.“ Fyodor’s slim fingers undid the other’s belt, unzipped his pants. Dazai shut his eyes close, as he felt a finger entering his hole. You could hear wet sounds already. 

„So wet…“ Fyodor hummed. Dazai hated how this made his body react like this. Still he couldn’t help it. It wasn’t as if he was enjoying this. At all. Maybe his body just knew, this would hurt less if wet. Now two fingers pushed inside of him. 

„Ahhh…“ Dazai moaned. 

„So tight around my fingers…“ the older student was enjoying this way too much. He pressed his hard dick against Dazai, started rubbing against him. Fingers were still inside, moving around and making Dazai squirm. Tears welled up in the brunette’s eyes. He felt so dirty and so used.

In these moments he was reminded of the fact, that his body was female. So very female. At least Fyodor didn’t get under Dazai’s tight sports bra to touch his tiny tits. The bra was so tight, sometimes Dazai got nauseous. If only he had the money to afford a binder. Just as Fyodor, breathing hardly, was about to open his belt to do even more unholy things to poor Dazai, the door opened.

“Shit!” Fyodor hissed and shoved Dazai away from him. He fell to the floor, completely out of breath. Everything felt strange, as though he weren’t really part of the scene. A senior student had entered and glanced briefly at Dazai. But he didn’t seem to care much and went into one of the stalls. No one ever cared to be honest. Expect for...Chuuya it seemed.

On autopilot, Dazai pulled up his pants and buckled his belt as he left the bathroom. Hopefully Fyodor would leave him alone now. He fought hard not to break down crying. He could still feel those fingers in him, still feel the wetness in his underwear. He wanted to die.

Without looking back, he walked quickly out of the building.

To hell with school, he thought. To hell with everything! He held himself together until he reached his favorite bench in the park. Then he pulled his knees up to his chest, buried his head, and began to cry. The tears kept flowing and flowing. What would have happened if that guy hadn’t walked into the bathroom? Then Fyodor surely would have gone further.

Ever since Dazai had started at Hitsuji, he had been the Russian student’s victim. Fyodor had touched him and done worse. He and his friends loved tormenting Dazai, hurting him in every possible way. Once again, Dazai asked himself why he couldn’t just be normal. Just like everyone else. He sobbed, not caring what passersby thought. He felt so fucking disgusting. 

Then a hand rested on his shoulder. “Hey,” said a familiar voice. A calming voice. Gentle and kind. Dazai looked up and saw Mori. With worried eyes, Mori gazed down at the boy. “May I sit with you?” he asked.

“P-please,” Dazai said, his voice broken. For some reason, this doctor was the only person in the world who didn’t seem to judge him, not even a little.

“Would you like to tell me what happened?” Mori put an arm around Dazai, who leaned against him. Mori smelled nice, and Dazai closed his eyes. He felt safe.

“A boy from my school…,” he didn’t want to say it out loud—doing so would make it more real. But he had to. Mori would understand. “He just… did stuff to me… down there. Ah-I didn't want it...” That was all he could get out.

Mori’s hand gently stroked the boy’s upper arm. It felt good, relaxing. “I see. Do your parents know about this?”

“No,” Dazai whispered. Even when he came home with a black eye or a split lip, his mother never asked questions. She loved to look away, to ignore things, and was usually drunk. She barely noticed anything about her son.

“Does anyone at all know?”
“No.”

Mori sighed. “Listen, that sort of thing must never happen. Under no circumstances. I may seem like some crazy stranger, but you can trust me. And to be honest,” he paused, “I think I can help you.”

Help him? With tear-stained eyes, Dazai looked up at the adult. “What do you mean, sensei?”

“Well,” Mori considered, “first it’s important that you understand what you have, what is going on inside that pretty head of yours. Do you know what it’s called? That you’re a boy in your mind.”

Dazai wasn’t very knowledgeable on this topic. He had once read that some people were born in the wrong body, but for him it had always been clear. He had done a little research, had come across binders. But there hadn’t been many articles. So he said nothing.

“That’s called transgender. And you know what the good thing is? You can fully become what you are inside. Physically, I mean,” Mori explained.

“Really?” Dazai asked, sitting up straighter. He wished for nothing more than to be a real boy. He would give anything for it. And if Mori could help him, then he would do whatever it took.

Mori nodded. “Exactly. There are hormones and therapies. Even surgeries. Gender-affirming procedures.”

“My mother would never allow me that,” Dazai murmured. He knew that woman. She wanted her little girl back. She constantly called Dazai her daughter. No wonder he so often felt the need to hurt himself. His mother simply didn’t respect him.

“If you’d like, I can talk to her. She’ll surely take the opinion of a doctor seriously,” Mori suggested.

Dazai couldn’t believe what was happening. Was he dreaming? This stranger was standing up for him more than anyone ever had before.

“Why are you doing this for me?”
“It’s my job. I know how it can end if someone with your condition isn’t given help. I’m only doing what I must as a doctor. Besides, you’re a very kind and bright boy. I can sense that you’re something special.”

Those words felt unbelievably good—Dazai’s heart warmed. This Mori was the best. An angel. A true angel. Dazai felt excitement rise within him. If this really worked out, it would be the greatest thing ever!

“Thank you!” Now Dazai was beaming from ear to ear, completely forgetting what had happened just minutes earlier in the bathroom.

“Do you know when your mother is free?” Mori asked.
“Pretty much always.” They lived on welfare. Sometimes his mother brought strange men home, and Dazai could hear them doing disgusting things.

“Then give me your address and I’ll come by tomorrow evening. Feel free to tell your mother,” Mori winked, then stood up.

Hurriedly, Dazai scribbled his address on a torn piece of paper and stood up. He handed the slip to Mori, then bowed. “Thank you so much, sensei!”

Mori ruffled the boy’s hair, and Dazai couldn’t help but hug him. He was incredibly grateful.
“Well then, I should get back. My smoke break is over.”
“See you tomorrow!” Dazai smiled and watched the doctor walk off toward the hospital.

That night, Dazai had a wet dream. And none other than Nakahara Chuuya played the starring role. The two of them had been at Dazai’s home, and then Chuuya had gently begun to kiss and caress him. It had been so loving, and Chuuya had looked so good. His blue eyes were simply mesmerizing and god his body... Then he had entered Dazai, and the two of them had made love, full of tenderness for each other. When Dazai woke from the dream, his boxer shorts were completely wet and he was drenched in sweat. But it had been worth it.

So it was no wonder that Dazai blushed when Chuuya sat next to him on the bus that morning.
“What’s up,” Chuuya said.
“Morning,” Dazai replied. He could barely look at him. He kept thinking about his dirty dream, and Chuuya was just so hot! What would it be like to be with a guy like him?

“My class is full of fucking idiots,” Chuuya said then. He was in the class parallel to Dazai’s. It seemed that, besides the two of them, this entire school was nothing but idiots. Maybe that was why they got along so well.

“Same here,” Dazai replied. “They’re all…”
“Crazy?”
“Exactly!” Dazai couldn’t help but smile. “That’s right!”

“The girls aren’t any better too.” Chuuya examined his nails. “They totally swarmed me. Asked a thousand questions.”

Was Chuuya trying to brag? Trying to impress Dazai? No, never. Someone like Dazai could only ever be a passing distraction for someone like him. After all, the brunette was the biggest loser in the whole school and had absolutely nothing to offer.

“You seem to be popular,” Dazai said.
Chuuya shrugged. “I don’t know. I mean, they don’t even know me. It just annoys me. I feel like you’re the only normal one here.”

Dazai’s heart sped up. Him and normal? To hear those words in the same sentence was magical. Chuuya was perfect! And he thought Dazai was normal! That was just too good to be true. Stay cool, Dazai told himself.

“Maybe so.” He tried not to let his excitement show. He glanced briefly at Chuuya. He looked so good! His lips were perfectly shaped, his nose straight and the perfect size. His eyebrows were thick, those unique eyes, and then his hair color on top of it all. He looked like he had been painted, and next to him Dazai felt somehow plain. Ugly.

But one thing was certain: Dazai wanted to be friends with Chuuya. Something tingled inside him whenever he looked at him or thought about him. That had to be a sign. Definitely.

Chapter Text

Dazai glanced over at Chuuya, watched as he chatted with a couple of girls. They seemed to find the new guy extremely interesting. Their looks were almost lovestruck. No wonder. Chuuya was very attractive—sure, a little short, but that didn’t seem to bother anyone. Dazai remembered how Chuuya had said he was annoyed by the girls. Was he cursing them inwardly right now too? From the outside, nothing showed. He smiled charmingly and tilted his head slightly when he thought a little longer about something. So. Incredibly. Cute.

Dazai’s thoughts began to wander in a certain direction. What would Chuuya’s lips feel like, making out and stuff? Touching his abs, his hair. Dazai sat there completely turned on, chin resting in his hand, and just pined away. They had a ten-minute break. Soon biology class would start. Dazai was wet, shifting in his chair as he imagined the redhead pushing him down on a bed, touching him all kinds of places. If only their break was longer, so he could touch himself in the bathroom stalls. The brunette's thoughts were extremely perverted. All the time his mind went to sexual stuff and maybe it was because of his age. But this isn't a maybe and instead a: reason being trauma. But we will go into that at another point. 

“What are you staring so stupidly for? Fucking creep...” A voice tore Dazai out of his fantasy, and he flinched.
It was Tachihara. He was suddenly standing there, arms crossed. Behind him stood two of his guys. Fuck. Not here. Not now!

“Got your eye on Chuuya-kun, have ya?” Tachihara grinned provocatively. “Let me tell you something: someone like him would never go for a girl like you. Guys don’t find short hair and a chest that flat sexy. Forget your chances—you’re way too ugly. And besides: you smell like garbage. Fucking disgusting.”

Dazai lowered his gaze. That hurt. He was used to this kind of harassment, but that didn’t mean it stung any less. The power of habit doesn’t make most people indifferent. And besides, this was totally embarrassing. Had Chuuya noticed? Please no!

A hand grabbed Dazai’s chin and yanked it up. Tachihara forced him into uncomfortable eye contact. “Show some respect, bitch!”

What was that supposed to mean? What was Dazai supposed to do now? The other boys laughed, and the brunette just wanted to sink into the ground. “You’re such a slut,” Tachihara hissed.

Dazai’s eyes filled with tears. The last thing he wanted was to start crying now. What hurt most was that these guys treated him like a girl. But he was a boy. Why couldn’t they understand that? This was living hell. 

“What the hell is this supposed to be?” Chuuya stepped up to Tachihara. This had to be a dream!

“Stay out of it,” the other hissed. But his voice betrayed that the confrontation unsettled him in a way.

Chuuya grabbed Tachihara’s arm and yanked it down. Dazai bit his lip, watching the whole thing. It was like something straight out of a boys’ love manga. The handsome, strong hero standing up for the misunderstood loner. It was too good to be true.

“Just leave him alone. What you’re doing here is seriously pathetic,” Chuuya said. "Go get a life or somethin'..."

Just as Tachihara was about to reply, the teacher walked in. “Sit down!” he ordered. Before everyone returned to their seats, Chuuya gave Dazai a look that made his heart race with excitement. In that moment, he realized he had a massive crush on Chuuya. And what a crush it was! Never before had anyone stood up for him like that. Physically and all. He didn’t absorb a single word in the entire following class. Instead, he pictured what it would be like to be with Chuuya, aroused and high on his thoughts. 

And so  with his head down, bangs falling deep into his face, Dazai left the school building after the last class.

Chuuya hadn’t spoken to him again or anything, but that didn’t matter. What had occurred that morning was the best thing that had ever happened to Dazai. If only he had someone to talk to… He wanted to open up, gush about his crush, talk about him for hours. Too bad he didn’t have any friends. Even on his way home, he didn’t run into Chuuya.

Then he remembered Doctor Mori. Hadn’t he said something like Dazai could tell him everything? Yes, something along those lines. Besides, he was supposed to come by later that evening anyway. Dazai hadn’t told his mother yet. Would she be angry? Either way, he couldn’t wait until tonight! He had to talk about his feelings now. There was just so much going on inside. 

So he decided to go to the hospital where the man worked. The boy needed advice. He had never been in love before. How did one even behave in such a situation? Excited, he entered the hospital. Inside, nurses hurried past, people with crutches hobbled by. It smelled strange. Now how was he supposed to proceed? Dazai thought for a moment. What if Doctor Mori wasn’t there at all?

Summoning all his courage, he went up to the reception desk. He cleared his throat. “Excuse me?”

A pretty woman sitting behind the reception smiled at him. “How can I help you?”

“Well… um… I wanted to ask if Doctor Mori is here?” Dazai’s voice was soft and uncertain. Did he seem weird? Of course he did—when did he ever seem normal?

“Is he your attending physician?” the woman asked, typing something into the computer. She actually didn’t seem suspicious at all.

Dazai nodded. “Yes.” Technically, that was kind of the truth.

“He’s currently in surgery. But he’ll be off afterward. It shouldn’t take long, so please wait.”

Jackpot! “Thank you very much.” Dazai bowed his head and couldn’t suppress a smile.

“What’s this about, though?” the woman asked then. Fuck! He needed an explanation. And fast. The truth?

“The sensei is supposed to come for dinner tonight,” the boy explained truthfully. “He wants to talk to my mother about… my health,” he added quickly.

The receptionist seemed to think about it briefly, then put her smile back on. “All right!”

So Dazai sat down in the waiting room. The hall was large, and his eyes fell on a wall clock. It was 4:30 p.m. How long would Mori be operating? Could one even know such a thing in advance? Dazai decided to daydream a little. He went on a date with Chuuya. They were at the arcade, having so much fun. It felt so real—everything playing out behind his closed eyes.

Eventually, Dazai thought of his mother. It would be better to let her know. Otherwise, she might get angry. The brunette walked over to one of the phones attached to the wall. To his relief, calling was free. He dialed his mother’s cell phone number. It took a while before she picked up.

“Hello? Who’s this?”
“It’s me.”
“Dazai-chan, where are you calling from?” His mother sounded annoyed.
“Ah… from the hospital, I—” he was cut off.
“What are you doing at the hospital? Is everything all right?”
“Yes! Everything’s fine! I just wanted to say that a doctor is coming over for dinner tonight. He wanted to talk to you about me.”
“Uh-huh. And you just decided that out of nowhere?” She sighed. “You should’ve asked for my permission! Besides, I don’t understand what this is supposed to mean! Why is some strange man coming to dinner and I don’t even know about it? You’re getting into trouble again, aren’t you!” Her voice grew louder.

Desperately, Dazai tried to explain: “I’m sorry! But the sensei is really nice and—” A hand landed on his shoulder. For the second time that day, Dazai flinched. Mori looked at him with kind eyes. He gestured toward the phone, and the boy understood. Mori took the receiver.

“Good evening. You’re speaking with Mori Ougai. I’m the doctor your son mentioned. I sincerely apologize for the circumstances. I would very much like to meet you. There are some things I’d like to explain to you.”

Dazai listened intently.

Mori nodded. “Yes… exactly… I will, of course, take care of the food… but naturally!”
The conversation seemed to have taken a completely different turn. That didn’t surprise Dazai. When it came to men, his mother always grew weak. Always. Luckily, the doctor had shown up at just the right time. He must have listened to their conversation and decided to chime in. 

“See you soon then. Thank you very much!” Mori placed the receiver back into its holder. “Well then, Dazai-kun! I’ve taken care of everything. Come, let’s be on our way.”
He took Dazai’s hand, and the boy looked up at the man with wide eyes. Mori was so kind. What had Dazai ever done to deserve him? In his hand, he felt safe, protected. As they walked outside, nurses bowed to them and wished them a pleasant evening. It was a wonderful feeling.

“Mori-sensei?” Dazai began as they stepped out into the early evening air.
“Dazai-kun?”
“I have to tell you something. So… there’s this boy. He’s new in my class, and I think I like him a lot.” Saying it out loud felt so good.

Mori squeezed the boy’s hand. “How exciting! What’s his name?”
“Nakahara Chuuya.” Dazai felt himself blush a little. The redhead stirred up entirely new feelings in him. “He’s half French, and he’s even nice to me. Today he protected me when some boys were picking on me again.” He rambled on, “he even looked at me afterward, and he treats me like a boy, and I feel like he actually takes me seriously, and yesterday we even talked a little.”

Mori gazed dreamily up at the darkening sky. “How lovely. Young love! I’m so glad he’s being so kind to you.”

Dazai smiled. Mori was the best! He was the father he never had. I guess you can say Dazai got attached really quickly. 
“But what should I do now?” he asked.
“Why not invite him over? Or go do something fun together. It seems like he likes you too, doesn’t it?”
“I don’t know… maybe he’s just being nice. Besides… I don’t think anyone could ever like me in that way.”

“Don’t say such things!” They crossed an intersection. “You are such a handsome boy. You have a beautiful face, and you’re really polite and sweet. I can’t imagine why anyone wouldn’t like you.”

Had Dazai heard that correctly? Those words were so kind, he couldn’t believe they were out there in the world now. He didn’t know what to say, so he simply stopped and hugged the doctor. He held him tightly and felt long fingers stroke his head.

“Come, let’s get udon and tempura,” Mori said at last, and the boy only nodded contentedly.

Mori ordered a lot. A lot. And Dazai wondered how three people were supposed to finish it all. His mother would definitely be wide-eyed, that was certain.

It wasn’t far until home.

„Can I ask you something?“ Mori said, as they made their way through a little park. 

„Yes.“ The kid replied. He hadn’t felt this good and safe in a long time. A very long time.

„How does it make you feel, when you think about Chuuya-kun?“

Dazai took a second to think. Then: „I feel like there are…I know it’s cheesy…but there are butterflies in my stomach. My heart feels so light as well. It makes me happy to think about him.“ He beamed. 

„I see. And how does it make your body feel?“ 

What kind of question was that? Dazai was a little confused. Surely doctors were interested in these things. It only made sense for a doctor to ask about your body, right? 

„It makes me tingly…and exited I guess.“ Well, talking about that was a littler strange. 

„Where?“ Mori’s voice sounded a little different now. But what was it exactly? You couldn’t quite put your finger on it. 

Luckily they had arrived at the apartment building Dazai lived in. That certainly was a relief. The brunette didn’t really want to talk about how he felt down there and all. Even if it was normal business for a doctor. 

Dazai let go of the other’s hand and pulled his keys out. „We’re here.“

For a split second, Mori looked a little disappointed, then put his smile back on. “I’m looking forward to it.”

They took the elevator up to the fifth floor. The concrete building they lived in was run-down and old, and Dazai felt a little ashamed. Mori was surely used to luxury and cleanliness.

When they entered the apartment, Dazai’s mother was already there. She wore a tight red dress with a deep neckline, her hair pinned up, her face carefully made up.

Mori bowed politely. “I am Mori Ougai. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“I’m Hinata. A pleasure indeed!” She bowed deeply. Her eyes sparkled. Did she like how Mori looked? Surely. “Come in.”
“Thank you very much.” Mori slipped into the guest slippers, and Dazai put on his own.

They stepped into the dining room, and the doctor placed the two bulging plastic bags on the already set table. Hinata had cleaned up—a rare occurrence.

The three of them sat down, and once everyone had food in front of them:
“Itadakimasu!”
“Thank you! This looks absolutely delicious,” Hinata gushed. She was acting entirely different than usual.
“I’m so glad. I’d like to get straight to the point,” Mori began, casting a glance at Dazai, who was staring at him with huge eyes. The boy was nervous. Very nervous. But surely Mori would handle it.

“Your son is a boy. He always has been. That is normal, and while it only happens to a few people, it does happen. Dazai-kun is transgender. This fact is medically and psychologically proven. It is important not to look away, but to ensure he receives the help he needs.” He paused and looked at Hinata.

She said, “That… no. Dazai-chan is a girl. You must understand, she’s a strange girl, but a girl nonetheless.” Her eyebrow twitched as she poured them wine. Dazai felt sick.

Then he felt Mori’s hand rest on his thigh. A gesture that seemed to say: everything will be alright. At least, that’s how the boy interpreted it.

“As a doctor, I can assure you that your son is transgender. If he cannot live this truth, he will suffer greatly. You don’t want your son to suffer, do you? I can provide him with all the care he needs.”

Hinata shook her head. “I just can’t believe that. He is just very confused. You see, his father isn't around. That makes him behave in this way.”

Mori took a sip of wine. “And yet it’s true.” Then he began to explain everything—how it came to be that someone felt trapped in the wrong body, what the science behind it was. He gave examples, explained in detail. Even for Dazai, listening was incredibly fascinating. Never before had he learned so much about himself, and he forgot to eat altogether. Mori was unbelievably intelligent. Everything he said made sense, and slowly but surely, Hinata seemed to begin to understand.

“I still can’t quite believe it, but what you’re saying… it does sound reasonable,” she said.
“It is,” Mori affirmed, raising a finger. “As I mentioned, the first step would be hormone therapy. I’d like to take Dazai-kun into my care. There aren’t many clinics in Yokohama that specialize in this matter.”

At the thought of soon taking hormones that would make him more male, Dazai grew excited. Finally, someone was helping him. Finally, he would have the body he had always been meant to have—the body that was truly his. Hopefully, his mother would agree to the treatment.

“I’d really like to discuss all of this again with you in peace, I need some time to think, you know,” Hinata said then. “How about we go out this weekend? I still have so many questions!” She leaned forward slightly, smiling charmingly.
“I’m free Saturday evening. I’d be happy to answer everything you’d like to know,” Mori replied.

That it would go this well—Dazai would never have imagined it. He couldn’t fully grasp it. Finally, his mother seemed willing to understand him a little better. Deep down, though, Dazai knew it was only because of the handsome, intelligent doctor his mother wanted to seduce. But so what! What mattered was that he would finally get the help he needed to live his true self.

They talked for a while longer about all sorts of things. When the food was gone and the wine bottle empty, the two adults seemed to be getting along really well, and Dazai listened to them with fascination, before they finally walked Mori to the door.

“Thanks to you, I finally understand Dazai-chan better. I’m looking forward to Saturday evening.” Hinata kissed Mori on the cheek, and Dazai thought that was a bit rushed.
“With pleasure.” Mori smiled, ruffled Dazai’s hair, and then they said their goodbyes.

Once the door had closed, Dazai held his breath. Now that the doctor was gone, his mother had no reason to keep pretending to be the loving parent.
“Sit down,” she demanded after a moment, and Dazai sat back down at the dining table. What was going to happen now?

Hinata stood in front of him, her cheeks flushed from the wine.
“I want you to know that I don’t believe in any of this transgender nonsense. You are a girl. Period. But I plan on making Mori-sensei my boyfriend. A senior doctor can rescue us from our financial mess. You will behave, and you will make sure I look good in front of him. Understood?”

Dazai couldn’t help it—he started crying. “But… but you… I thought you finally understood!” he sobbed. His mother hated it when he cried.

“I don’t understand a damn thing you are saying! Stop sniveling!” Her voice grew sharp.

Dazai stood up, wanting to escape into his room. The disappointment was crushing—everything he had been so happy about had only been an act. Hinata grabbed his arm, her long manicured nails digging into the boy’s skin.
“You stay right here! I’m not finished with you!” She slapped her son across the face. Tears kept running down Dazai’s cheeks.
“You’re hopeless! Absolutely hopeless!” Another slap. Whimpering, Dazai raised his arms to shield his face when Hinata finally let go of him.
“Get out of my sight! Now!” she hissed.

Dazai retreated to his room. He dropped onto his futon and cried quietly into his pillow. He never got to be happy! He felt completely betrayed.

When he had calmed down a little, he crept into the kitchen and grabbed one of the many bottles of sake. His mother must have gone out. The boy returned to his room and started drinking. He just didn’t want to be himself anymore. He hated his mother, he hated his body, he hated everything about his life.

It didn’t take long before he was pretty drunk. Dazai got up, staggered to the entrance, put on his shoes, and left the apartment. He didn’t want to be there anymore, had no idea what time it was. Completely dazed, he eventually found himself at a playground. He sat down on a bench and stared into space.

What had he done to deserve this fate? All he wanted was to be loved. Was that really too much to ask?

“Yo!”
No way. The timing couldn’t have been worse. Chuuya had actually sat down next to Dazai. Where had he come from?
“Knew it was you. What are you doing here?”

“Uh…” Dazai looked at him, unsure what to do with himself. Under the glow of the streetlamp, Chuuya looked especially beautiful. Like an angel with red hair.

“You smell like sake,” his crush remarked. “Funny coincidence. I drank a little on the sly too.”

Was Chuuya a troublemaker? How hot!

“Yeah, I did,” Dazai admitted.

“My brother pissed me off so bad I snatched a half-full bottle of red wine and took off. But it’s empty now.”

Maybe the night was turning around after all.

“What happened with your brother?” Dazai asked, trying his best not to slur, though it wasn’t going very well.
“Damn, you’re even drunker than me,” Chuuya laughed, sounding very talkative. “My brother’s just an idiot. That’s all. And you?”

“My mother.” Dazai looked down at the ground. He didn’t want to go into detail. It was way too complicated. “Thanks, by the way,” he added instead.
“For what?”
“Well… for helping me today. At school.”

Chuuya waved it off. “Ah, of course. Those guys are all morons! Totally brainless. Honestly, I think the whole school’s messed up. I mean, why do people act like that? I just don’t get it.”

Finally, someone said out loud what the brunette had been thinking every single day. Chuuya was perfect.

“You’re really cool,” Dazai whispered—and immediately regretted being so blunt. “Uh… sorry…” he quickly added.

Then the other boy looked at him. Straight into his eyes. Dazai’s heart stopped.
“Wanna make out?” Chuuya asked.

No, this couldn’t be reality. Never. Never!

Chapter Text

Making out? Right here and now? Chuuya really seemed to know what he wanted. But for Dazai, it was all a bit overwhelming. He never could have imagined that the other boy actually liked him. After all, nobody ever liked Dazai. That’s how it had always been.

Maybe this was all just a prank, and Fyodor had his hands in it somehow. Just another setup to humiliate Dazai. It wouldn’t even be surprising. Not more surprising than the fact that his crush actually wanted something from him. The thought of them kissing made Dazai feel all kinds of ways. Especially aroused. He had touched himself thinking about his crush, never thought these fantasies would become reality. But look at them now. 

“Ah… really?” Dazai stammered, unable to hold eye contact for even a second. But then again, he had never been good at that. How was one even supposed to act in a situation like this?

Chuuya smiled, his eyes slightly glazed from the alcohol. “Of course I mean it for real. You’re kind of slow on the uptake, huh?”, then he added: "fuck, no offense man!" 

“Sorry,” Dazai apologized, completely overwhelmed, desperately trying not to mess anything up. Too bad he always managed to mess up absolutely everything there was to mess up. He just was incapable of social interactions. 

“You don’t have to apologize,” Chuuya whispered, and suddenly his fingers brushed against the brunette’s cheek. His heart was racing, like it might explode. Dazai felt dizzy, confused, and acutely aware of how his body reacted to this tiny touch. He was touch-starved. Nobody ever touched him willingly. And now the most beautiful boy in school was doing it. It drove him out of his mind and he felt himself getting wet. 

They looked at each other, and Dazai nearly threw up from nerves when suddenly a phone rang. He wasn't sure whether to be glad or disappointed bis this interruption. 

“Fuck!” Chuuya hissed, shoving his hand into his jacket pocket with clear irritation. He pulled out his phone and answered. “What the hell do ya want?” Something in his expression shifted as he listened to the voice on the other end. Suddenly, it was like he had sobered up in an instant. What on earth was going on?

Chuuya hung up, his jaw tight. “Sorry… I’ve gotta go. But are you free tomorrow? I want to see you again.” The smile that flickered across his lips was forced. Chuuya didn’t want to go home. Dazai could feel it, because he knew that feeling all too well.

“Sure,” said the brunette simply. Then Chuuya stood, opened his mouth as if he wanted to say something more—but instead disappeared into the shadows cast by the trees in the park.

Dazai couldn’t make sense of the world anymore. Floating on cloud nine and at the same time not sure if this place even really existed—it was a strange feeling. New and unfamiliar. His hand wandered to the spot on his cheek where Chuuya had touched him. It had felt so soft, so tender. Dazai sat there for a while longer, wondering what he had done to deserve all the things that had happened to him in the past few days.

—

Chuuya sat hunched over his cereal bowl at the breakfast table. His body hurt, but of course he didn’t let it show. In front of his father, he always played the strong one, because that was the only thing that man ever accepted. No weakness, stay cold. What a shitty, outdated motto. But if Chuuya wanted to survive at home, he had no choice but to follow those rules. He had no desire to hear for the thousandth time, “Be more like your brother.” He fucking hated that.

So he forced the cereal down, then stood up. Slinging his backpack over his shoulder, he left the apartment. No complications that morning—at least that was something. On his way to the bus, his thoughts drifted to Dazai - the boy in his new class he thought was so amazing. Chuuya didn’t know exactly what it was that drew him in. Maybe it was those big brown marble eyes. Maybe it was his shy demeanor. Chuuya couldn’t tell. But that didn’t matter—because yesterday they had run into each other by chance in the park, and it had been nothing short of magical.

Well, if Chuuya hadn’t been drunk, he probably wouldn’t have hit on the other boy so boldly—but hey. It had still been a beautiful moment, even if it had ended so abruptly. There was so much he wanted to know about Dazai. At school, the brunette was bullied. It hurt to see, and Chuuya was simply the kind of person who spoke up whenever someone behaved like a jerk. He just couldn’t look away from things like that. Besides, Dazai sparked some sort of protective instinct in him.

Did he maybe have a little crush on Osamu Dazai? Maybe.

Lost in thought, Chuuya got on the bus at his bus stop. A quick glance around the vehicle told him that Dazai probably wasn’t coming to school today—he wasn’t in his usual seat. Too bad. A disappointed sting shot through Chuuya as he sat down. He really wanted to talk to the brunette and he had asked him to hang out today. This sucked!

At the next stop, a boy sat down beside the redhead. Chuuya recognized him—they were in the same class. The guy was a foreigner, and though his Japanese was flawless, he spoke with an accent. He noticed how strangely, almost intensely, Fyodor was staring at him.
Then: “Chuuya-kun. How are you?” He seemed to want to start a conversation.

“Good, how about you?” Chuuya replied curtly. He didn’t think much of the other boy—after all, he was one of the guys who bullied Dazai. Chuuya wanted nothing to do with him.

“I’m good too. You seem to get along well with Dazai-chan,” Fyodor observed, his eyes flickering strangely. He wore a silver cross shaped ring on his index finger. Was he trying to come off as mysterious or something? 

Chuuya only shrugged. Did Fyodor want to start gossip this early in the morning? No way. Even if Dazai wasn’t here, the redhead wasn’t going to betray him.

“You might want to know a thing or two about her.”

“Him,” Chuuya corrected flatly, staring out the window in boredom. Apartment blocks slid past. Another dreary autumn day.

“Sure,” the Russian grinned. “Anyway, he’s not who you think he is.”
What the hell was that supposed to mean? That tone of emphasis was nothing but pure provocation. Besides, Chuuya couldn’t care less what kind of rumors Fyodor was planning to spread.

“Shut the hell up. I don’t care about that crap, got it?” Chuuya shot back, hoping that would be the end of it. Of course, it wasn’t.

“I really think you should care.”

The bus came to a stop. Thank god. They had arrived at school. Fyodor climbed out, clearly amused, and Chuuya had no choice but to follow. As they stepped onto the school grounds, Fyodor kept pace beside him. The guy was beyond irritating.

“So, to return to our conversation,” Fyodor began, “Dazai-chan is absolutely disgusting. She’s the daughter of a whore, and you can truly tell. Totally cheap and desperate, she herself is a real slut too. They live in a complete dump and apparently can’t even afford water to shower. I mean, have you ever smelled Dazai-chan—”

That was enough. Chuuya’s anger boiled over, and he simply couldn’t hold back anymore. How dare this idiot talk about Dazai like that? He was adorable, a little angel, innocent. Nothing Fyodor said fit the brunette—and even if his mother did sell her body, so what? Chuuya came from a completely dysfunctional family himself, but that didn’t make him any less of a good guy.

Chuuya stopped in his tracks and turned toward the other boy. Then he grabbed him by the collar and glared up into that disgustingly smug face.

“Shut the fuck up. Who the hell do you think you are?” Chuuya hissed, shutting out everything around him. He didn’t even notice how other students stopped to watch, thrilled, as his fist connected with Fyodor’s eye. The Russian staggered back, clearly useless in a fight, and Chuuya landed another punch.

When Fyodor finally went down, he just giggled. What a psycho. Chuuya leaned over him. “This isn’t fucking funny, got it? Leave Dazai-kun alone from now on!” He glared furiously at the bastard.

“Enough!” suddenly came the voice of an adult.
Shit… it was a teacher.

Chuuya jerked upright and stood. “I’m sorry!” He quickly composed himself and bowed.

Another teacher crouched beside Fyodor, asking if he was all right. Half the school was watching.

“You’re coming to the principal’s office now,” the teacher told Chuuya, and he followed the man with his head lowered.

“Nice one!” a boy called after him. The girls giggled, and one kid tried to give Chuuya a high five, but that was out of the question. They were all just glad something exciting had finally happened. Why the redhead had lashed out at his classmate didn’t interest anyone.

So Chuuya sat down in the chair before the principal’s desk, facing her blank expression.

“I sincerely apologize!” Chuuya repeated, bowing at the waist. “Something just… came over me.”

Koyou Ozaki studied the boy for what felt like an eternity. Then she said, “Chuuya-kun. You’ve been at this school not even a week, and already you’re in trouble. What on earth were you thinking, attacking another student?”

Chuuya glanced awkwardly down at his knees. Maybe it would help Dazai if he told the truth. Right now, the teachers didn’t seem to be intervening in the bullying. Were they looking away—or did they really not know about it?

“It’s like this… Fyodor-kun is always tormenting Dazai-kun. I even noticed it on my very first day here. Half the class joins in. I just think it’s so unfair! Dazai-kun never did anything to them, and they’re so cruel to him!” His voice grew heated. “They treat him like he’s less than human and don’t respect him at all! And then this morning, Fyodor-kun went off about Dazai-kun on the way to school. He probably thought I’d join in with him or something. But somehow I’m the only one willing to stand up for Dazai-kun! Why isn’t anyone else helping him? I just don't get it.”
Chuuya was slightly out of breath. Maybe he’d gone a little overboard? No—this was the truth, and you always had to stand by the truth.

Koyou nodded thoughtfully. “I understand. But it’s not your job to settle such disputes.”

Chuuya couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “This isn’t just some dispute! Dazai-kun is being bullied! And I’ve only been here a week, and even I can see how bad it is!”

“Do not interrupt me.” The principal’s voice sharpened with authority. Shit—that really had been rude. The redhead muttered an apology. The third of the day.

“We have the situation under control. And you can’t just lose your temper like that. Dazai…kun... is a difficult student. Even we teachers struggle with him.”

No. Fucking. Way. She couldn’t be serious. How could someone twist reality like this? Rage bit at Chuuya’s lip. This made him almost angrier than Fyodor’s vile remarks from before.

“Dazai-kun can’t help it if everyone treats him like dirt! The teachers should be helping him!” Chuuya snapped again. Then his hand flew to his mouth. “Sorry!” Number four.

Koyou sighed, closing her eyes. “Very well. It’s good that you want to stand up for your classmates. But violence is never the answer, and we have to take this seriously.”

What a joke! If anything should be taken seriously, it was the bullying! They were measuring with two different yardsticks.

She went on: “It should be clear to you that we have to punish you. We do not tolerate any form of violence at this school.”
No form of violence? They had to be out of their minds. Wasn't what Dazai endured everyday a form of violence too? 

“I’ll be calling your parents, and you’ll be suspended for one week.”

No, please! This was really bad. Absolutely not good! First, there was the fact that his father mustn’t find out his son had screwed up, and then there was the problem of Dazai. Who would protect him if Chuuya wasn’t around? No one! Fuck!

Chuuya couldn’t get a word out.

“I’ll call your father now. He’ll come pick you up. In addition, you’ll write a ten-page essay on why your behavior was wrong and why you regret it. And to Fyodor-kun, you’ll apologize in the form of a one-page letter,” Koyou explained. “You can wait in the entrance hall until your father arrives.”

This had to be a joke! This school seemed to have no sense of morality or justice at all. Chuuya stood up. He bowed, though he wasn’t about to apologize a fifth time, and left the room. An idea struck him—actually, a pretty good one! A glance at the clock told him it was just the five-minute break. He hurried to the classroom, his eyes immediately landing on the group of girls, who of course smiled at him right away. Quickly, he walked up to them.

“Chuuya-kun, that was so cool! You looked like an action hero!” giggled the one with glasses. She always said exactly what she thought and openly flirted with the redhead.

“You have to tell us all about what happened later,” smiled Yuan. She was the prettiest in the group, and she and Chuuya got along the best.

“Hey, Yuan-chan, how about we grab something to eat today?” Chuuya asked with a smile, putting on his most charming look. The girl immediately flushed bright red. The others either clapped a hand over their mouths in excitement or stood there glaring with jealous disbelief. Sometimes it was awfully convenient being the guy all the girls swooned over.

“Of course,” Yuan answered shyly.

“Great! Let’s meet at the rainbow mall at five o’clock, then. See you!” Chuuya turned on his heel and left the room, hands shoved into his pockets.

He hadn’t exactly wanted to pull this stunt, but it was necessary—crucial—for making sure Dazai would be protected during his suspension.

Chuuya reached the entrance hall at the same time as his father. The man wore a scowl—but then, he pretty much always did.

“Really now! Fighting again! We already talked about this!” His father yanked on Chuuya’s ear, sending a sharp jolt of pain through him.

“Ow! That hurts!” the redhead groaned in frustration.

His father let go. “We’re going home! Because of you, I had to leave work early. Always trouble with you, it’s always the same! You should take a page out of Verlaine-kun’s book!”

Never! Chuuya thought, following his father, who gripped his wrist and dragged him outside.

Once they were in the car, his father lit a cigarette and asked, “All right then. What happened?” So he was curious after all. Of course he was. 

“There’s this boy in my class, and everyone’s always ganging up on him. Really hard, too. But he’s super kind, hasn’t done a thing to anyone. Fyodor-kun’s the one leading it all. He’s got a huge problem with Dazai-kun.”

“Foreigner?”

Chuuya nodded. “Russian. He’s really tall and stuff. Anyway, this morning he started trash-talking Dazai-kun again. Wanted me to join in, I guess. But I don’t do that kind of thing. And when he just kept getting nastier, I decked him. That’s about how it went down.”

“Son?” His father glanced away from the road for a second to look at Chuuya. “I’m proud of you. You did the right thing! Now, I don’t like that you got yourself in trouble again, but you acted like a real man! A real man!”

Chuuya hadn’t expected that, but it made him all the happier. His father basically never praised him—quite the opposite, in fact. It felt unbelievably good to hear those words. He knew he’d never forget this moment.

“Thanks, Pops.” Chuuya grinned proudly. Maybe he wasn’t such a bad son after all.

“As a reward, we’ll go for yakiniku and have a beer together! I didn’t take the rest of the day off for nothing.”

Father-son time never really happened. Not like this. And right now, Chuuya was actually glad for his outburst. Sure, he hadn’t regretted it before either, but now he felt truly happy. He only hoped his plan with Yuan would work out tonight. It just had to.

“All right then.” Mori stood in front of Dazai, who sat on the padded cot in a hospital room. The doctor held a syringe in his hand, and it looked really scary. As much as it frightened him, he wanted—no, needed—that shot desperately.

“It might sting a little, but you’re a strong boy.” Mori smiled. “This here is your very first testosterone injection. Are you excited?”

Dazai nodded eagerly. Of course, Mori had just explained all the risks, side effects, and expected results to him, but the brunette had been so thrilled that he hadn’t really listened properly. He swung his legs and grinned. “I’m happy! Thank you, Mori-sensei!”

“Very good.” Mori ruffled his hair. He did that often, and Dazai had gotten used to it—he even loved it.

A sharp sting in his arm. The needle went in, and just like that—it was out again.

“That’s it already.” Mori sat down on his chair, one of those with wheels, and looked up at the boy. “Now you’re going to become the man you always were.”

“Sensei, you’re the best in the whole world.” Finally, Dazai’s body would begin to change! His voice would deepen. He’d gain more muscle, and overall he’d feel better. If it were up to him, the effects would start taking full effect right now. But it was a process that took time. The fact that his mother had agreed to this—he had Mori to thank for that. Just like pretty much everything else. The doctor and Hinata were officially dating now, and his mother was more relaxed than usual because of it. Win-win for everyone!

“Come here.” Mori motioned with his hand, and the boy hopped down from the cot. He hugged the doctor tightly—he smelled unbelievably good. He had to be using some very expensive cologne, the kind you could only get at a perfumery, not in a supermarket.

Then Mori pulled Dazai onto his lap. “I’m very glad that you trust me, you know?” He buried his nose in the boy’s hair and inhaled a little unsteadily.

Of course Dazai trusted Mori. He was the head doctor and super smart. He took Dazai seriously and stood up for him. If only he were his real father—that would be amazing…
“If you want to thank me, then I’d like to go out with you tonight,” Mori explained. His hand stroked along the boy’s back.

Go out? What did he mean by that? Either way, Dazai nodded. He would do anything to properly thank the doctor.

“If you want, we can try something completely new to eat. Something you’ve never had before. I mean, so much is going to change for you now—so you might as well broaden your culinary horizons too, don’t you think?”

Yes, that made perfect sense. “Yeah!” Dazai smiled.

“All right then, I’ll think of something nice. Tell me, do you have any clothes that are a little dressier?” Mori’s hand trailed over Dazai’s waistband, sending a tingling sensation through him. It felt… nice.

The fact that Dazai didn’t own any dressy, let alone expensive, clothes was embarrassing somehow. Sure, Mori knew that he and his mother didn’t have much, but still! “I don’t have anything like that,” he admitted sheepishly.

“Hey, that’s not a problem at all. If you tell me your size, I’ll buy you something beforehand.”

Did Mori mean that seriously? He would actually buy Dazai something—to wear? The boy could hardly believe his luck. Hinata always bought him clothes two sizes too big so he could wear them longer. They always bought second-hand anyway, but most of the time he just wore his school uniform. It was kind of uncomfortable, always walking around in such old and not particularly stylish looking, old clothes.

Dazai asked several times if it was really okay, then gave his clothing size. Both Mori’s hands slid around the boy’s waist. “You’re unbelievably slim,” the doctor sighed. It sounded like a compliment. Since Dazai was usually a little ashamed of his narrow build, it made him happy—like so many other things did that day.

“Well then, I have to see my next patient. I’ll pick you up tonight.”

“Yippee!” said Dazai, hopping to his feet. “See you later!” He waved and left the room, while Mori’s eyes followed him.

Once outside, Dazai simply couldn’t stop grinning. He was so happy, he couldn’t even remember the last time he’d felt this good. Everything was just going perfectly! Chuuya liked him, he was getting testosterone, and he had a new father figure. At last, the tide had turned.

Today and tomorrow he didn’t have to go to school—Mori had written him a doctor’s note. Really convenient to have a doctor in his close circle. Tonight they were going out to eat. Where would they go? Dazai wished he could tell Chuuya everything. A pity they wouldn’t see each other today or tomorrow. But you couldn’t have everything, could you?

—

Chuuya waited in front of the mall for his “date.” Hopefully Yuan wouldn’t get the wrong idea about it, because the redhead already liked someone else. A boy with deer eyes and a sad gaze who was far too sweet for this world.

The girl with the pink hair finally walked up to him. She had really dressed up, wearing a short skirt and, over her pale blue top, a college jacket with pink patches that matched her hair color perfectly. Chuuya could admit that she was pretty, but that was as far as it went. He liked boys, after all.

“Hello, Chuuya-kun. Thanks again for the invitation.” Yuan smiled shyly.

“I’ve been wanting to do this for a while,” the redhead lied shamelessly. “I’m glad you said yes.”

“Really?”

Chuuya nodded. “Absolutely.”

Then the two of them went into a shop that sold matcha and other sweet treats. Along with the green caffeinated drink, they ordered cream croissants and a big muffin to share. Naturally, Chuuya had insisted on paying. They sat down, and Yuan got straight to the point. Perfect.

“So… what exactly happened before school today? Everyone’s talking about it. I hope it’s okay for me to ask,” she said, sipping her matcha through the black straw.

Chuuya knew full well that Yuan would tell everyone tomorrow. But he couldn’t care less. He had a mission. So he explained what had happened. When he finished, he took a bite of his croissant. It was sinfully sweet.

“Mmh…” Yuan thought for a moment. “I mean, gossiping is mean, but Dazai-chan is really weird. We’re all scared of her.”

Fucking bitch! the redhead thought. Yuan was no better than the rest of them at all. Empathy seemed to be a foreign word for these airheads.

“But why do y'all think of him that way? And besides, it’s Dazai-kun.” Chuuya emphasized. Why couldn’t they get that through their thick skulls? It wasn’t that hard! And Dazai looked like a boy, talked like one, and acted like one too.

“I don’t know. I just don’t get why she thinks she’s a boy and stuff. And she smells bad, and never talks.” She couldn’t be serious. He had just pointed out Dazai’s gender and already—again!

“As I said, Dazai-kun is a he. Honestly, it really pisses me off that you don’t get that. And you don’t even know him. You have no idea what’s going on in his life, so stop treating him like trash.” Chuuya was visibly pissed off.

Yuan blushed. “I’m sorry!” She seemed to be trying to excuse herself now. Two-faced snake! “You’re right, sometimes we are mean to… him. But you just go along with it when everyone else is doing it. Please don’t hate me now!” Her lower lip trembled. Was she seriously asking for pity?

But Chuuya couldn’t lose sight of his goal. “You can make up for it a little,” he said, his voice softening again. “A pretty girl like you doesn’t need to be mean to others at all.”

“Thank you.” She didn’t look the least bit sad anymore. Internally, the redhead rolled his eyes.

“Listen: I’ve been suspended for a week. I’ve made it my mission to look after Dazai-kun. But obviously, I can’t do that in the next few days. I’m asking you and the other girls to be kind to Dazai-kun and keep an eye on him. I’d be very grateful, Yuan-chan.”

Would she take the bait? Hopefully.

Yuan nodded eagerly at once. “Of course we’ll look after… him…! Gladly! So, does that mean you’re not mad at me anymore?”

“If you do that, then I’ll forgive you. But only you. Because you’re special.” Chuuya was absolutely disgusted by his own fake, corny behavior.

“Will you go out with me again too?”

This felt like a full-on negotiation!

“But of course.” Chuuya nodded and took the girl’s hand across the table. “Nothing I’d rather do.”

—

The doorbell rang, and Dazai jumped up. Hinata was out, probably at work. The boy was excited. Very much so!

Mori finally stood at the door in a black pinstripe suit. He looked like a rich gangster boss straight out of a movie. Unbelievably cool! His hair was tied back as always. In one hand he held a Prada bag, in the other a bottle of red wine.

Prada? That was one of those luxury brands! This couldn’t be real.

“Good evening.” Mori smiled, and Dazai hugged him tightly.

They went into the kitchen. “As I promised, I bought you something.” Mori held out the bag to the boy. His eyes sparkled. He seemed just as excited as Dazai himself.

“Thank you so, so much, sensei!” Dazai took the bag. He sat down at the table and pulled out a glossy box. “Wow!” he gasped, eyes wide. He had never held anything so fancy in his hands. Carefully, he opened the box. Inside was pinstripe fabric. The same kind Mori was wearing. “Matching outfits!” the brunette said in pure delight. “Thank you so much!” He pulled the suit from the box and stood up again to admire it.

“Do you like it?” Mori asked, beaming.

“Of course! I’ve never received anything so beautiful in my life.” Dazai could have cried from happiness, but he held himself together.

“Do you know how to put on a suit like this?” the doctor asked.

Dazai shook his head. He had no idea.

“Then I’ll help you.”

The two of them went into the bathroom, and Mori sat down on the edge of the bathtub, watching, while Dazai undressed. Somehow, it didn’t feel uncomfortable to do it in front of that man—until he remembered his scars. But by then he had already taken off his sweatshirt. Startled, he crossed his arms over his chest and turned away. “Don’t look!” he pleaded.

“Dazai-kun…” Mori whispered. He had already seen the scars on the boy’s arm when giving the injection, but now he saw that his entire torso was covered in them. The full extent only hit him in that moment. “You don’t have to hide.” There was something like sadness in Mori’s voice. It seemed to affect him deeply.

“But I’m embarrassed.” Dazai’s voice trembled. “I hate myself!”

“Please don’t say that.” Mori stood up and hugged the boy from behind, who was now sniffling quietly. But he allowed the embrace. “We can work on that, okay?”

What did that mean?

“B-but…” Dazai whimpered. He felt like he had just disappointed Mori, and that felt awful. Absolutely awful. "Don't be madd...p-please..." When his mother had first realized her son was cutting himself she had thrown a real fit. Said, how it was disgusting and weird. Told Dazai how he wasn't appreciating anything and how he didn't realize of lucky he was. But lucky about what? Dazai had asked himself.

“Hey… everything will be fine. You don’t need to be ashamed in front of me. I’ll turn around, and you put on the shirt and trousers, alright?” The doctor’s voice was soft and soothing. It gave Dazai strength, and he nodded. Mori was so different than his mother. So gentle and kind. 

So the boy changed as requested. “Done,” he finally said.

“How handsome you are!” Mori remarked, and Dazai’s heart grew warm. “Now, tuck the shirt nicely into your trousers.” Mori picked the box up from the floor and took out the matching tie and vest. “There.” He draped the vest over Dazai’s shoulders and buttoned it up. Why did Dazai feel something stir inside him at this man’s touch—and why did his thoughts drift to Chuuya? He was so horny all the time and he didn't understand it at all. 

Silently and with full concentration, Mori tied the tie for him. “You’re perfect,” he said.

“Thank you.” Dazai gave a slight bow, trying not to think of perverted things. 

“Look at yourself in the mirror.”

The boy hated looking at his reflection, but he granted Mori the favor. Wow! He had never seen himself like this before. He looked like a boy from a well-to-do family. So neat and polished!

After Dazai tossed his old clothes into the laundry basket, they went back to the kitchen. Mori opened the wine, found the glasses immediately, and poured for them both. Dazai didn’t question in the slightest that a doctor was serving alcohol to a minor.

They clinked glasses. Dazai felt truly grown-up. The fear he had felt just moments ago had completely vanished. He took a sip and it tasted very bitter. Weird. 

All of a sudden, Dazai remembered what he had arranged with Chuuya yesterday. Fuck! They were supposed to meet today! What if Chuuya now thought the brunette hated him or was ignoring him?

Dazai jumped up. “I have to do something!” he said hastily. Then he went to the fridge, where the list of phone numbers of the households in his class was pinned.

His finger traced along the names until he found Chuuya’s. He picked up the landline and dialed the number. He completely forgot how much he usually avoided and feared phone calls. His heart raced as someone picked up. “Hello?” asked a voice that sounded like a young man.

“Uhh… hello, this is Osamu Dazai. Ahh...I’m in Chuuya-kun’s class and w-was actually supposed to meet him t-today but… Uhh…” Damn, Dazai must have sounded like a total idiot.

“Well, Chuuya-kun's on a date with a girl right now. I'll tell him you called though.”

No. A date? Dazai’s heart grew heavy. His voice was already trembling as he said: “Okay, thanks,” and hung up. The phone slipped from his hand onto the kitchen counter and he stared straight ahead. Of course, yesterday had just been a joke, a set-up. Of course, Chuuya had just been messing with him, and of course, he really went on dates with lots of pretty girls.

Dazai wiped at his eyes as the tears finally came. He wanted to hurt himself so bad. To punish himself for his stupidity.

“Dazai-kun?” Mori’s voice sounded muffled from somewhere nearby.

Automatically, Dazai turned toward his room, where he kept the razor blades hidden. He noticed nothing around him. Only when he felt a firm grip on his wrist was he pulled back into reality.

Mori looked at him with concern. “What’s wrong?”

“I…I’m so stupid!” Dazai sobbed.

“Come on, let’s sit down and you can calm yourself, okay?” Mori stroked the boy’s head, and they sat down on the small couch in the tiny living room. Dazai nestled against the doctor and cried for a while. Mori stroked his back.

When Dazai had calmed down a little, he pressed his head against Mori’s chest and wrapped both arms around him.

“Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?”

Dazai sniffled. “Yeah… well… there’s this boy and I l-like him but… b-but I think he has a girlfriend or something.” He fought hard not to break down in tears again.

“Did you just find that out on the phone?”

“Y-yeah… I h-hate myself so much, Mori-sensei!” All the boy could think about was hurting himself. Luckily, there was an adult there who was keeping an eye on him and stopping him from doing so.

“You’re talking very badly about yourself, but I think you’re a wonderful boy. And it’s completely normal to like someone who’s already taken, you know? When I was your age, I went through that sometimes too.”

“Really?”

Mori nodded. “Yes. But you get over it. Believe me.”

“But I like Chuuya-kun so much!” Dazai said desperately.

“Shhhh…” Suddenly, fingers brushed over the boy’s thigh. He flinched. “Are you thinking about him right now?” The fingers slid higher.

Dazai was now obviously thinking about his crush even more. The fingers were so close to his inner thigh and he couldn't help but let out a shaky moan. He didn't understand why Mori was touching him like this but it felt so fucking good. So calming as well in a way. 

"Do you like this?" the doctor asked, kissed the boy's head. 

"Mh-mh..." Dazai replied, breathing heavily now. Of course he had no idea how the other was completely taking advantage of his desperation and self-hatred right now. To Dazai, Mori was helping him relax and feel better. The reality was different, of course. 

When Dazai felt fingers slowly brushing over his private parts he pressed himself harder against Mori. "Nghhh..." the boy moaned. This felt so overwhelming, still so good. Nobody has ever touched him there before. Mori's body twitched a little, as Dazai kept moaning and slowly forgetting his sadness.

But then the landline rang. What was it with the phone interrupting these situations the past days? Dazai's upper body jerked up and he looked at the other, eyes still watery and lips parted. 

"Go ahead." Mori smiled and as Dazai stood up a hand brushed over his ass. He noticed how he had started to feel very dizzy. Was it because of the wine? But he only had a few sips of it. There was so much going on in him right now. 

He picked up and it was none other than Chuuya's voice on the other side. Dazai's heart skipped a beat. 

Chapter Text

Chuuya sounded a little out of breath: “Hey… you just talked to my brother, right?”

“Uh… yeah.” Dazai answered. He had to hold on to the counter, because the dizziness was getting worse. His head felt strangely hot.

“So listen… that wasn’t a real date, okay?”

What was that supposed to mean? Dazai was confused. And why was Chuuya even telling him this? “Huh?” he said slowly.

“I can explain it to you properly. It really wasn’t a date or anything… can we meet?”

Dazai’s vision grew blurry. He turned toward Mori, who was still sitting on the couch. His mouth felt oddly wet. “I’m with the sensei,” he finally said.

Mori stood up and walked over to the boy.

“Sensei? What do you mean?” Chuuya asked, sounding puzzled. “A tutor?”

“Dazai-kun, your friend can come over if he wants. We’ll go out to eat another time, okay?” Mori smiled.

Dazai looked at him with half-open lips and bedroom eyes. “Do you wanna come to me?” he slurred into the receiver.

“Yeah! The address is on the contact list, right?” Chuuya seemed happy that the two of them would still get to see each other today, but the brunette didn’t even register it.

“See you soon,” was all Dazai said before hanging up. Then he collapsed into Mori’s arms. “I feel sick,” he complained.

“Poor child,” Mori replied. “You’d better lie down for a bit.” He helped the boy into his room, and Dazai fell onto his bed. Everything was spinning. He felt absolutely awful. He had already forgotten that he’d just spoken to Chuuya. He had already forgotten that Chuuya was about to come over.

From a sober perspective, the whole situation was deeply alarming and questionable. Why was Mori drugging Dazai? And why had he suggested inviting Chuuya over? The man’s motives were unknown—certainly, however, self-serving in nature.

Dazai's vision went black. He fell into a kind of trance, no longer mentally or physically present. He would never know that Mori touched him while he lay there lifeless. Mori took advantage of the trust the boy had in him. Sure, the doctor really did intend to help Dazai with his transition. That was simply a fact. But still, Mori had a penchant for... let's say the forbidden.

Whether that makes him a bad person is up to your own judgment.

Mori's fingers were in Dazai's mouth and he was photographing this erotic scene with his phone when the doorbell rang. Even though it was tempting, he would never be able to rape anyone. Dazai would let him have his way with him eventually. It was only a matter of time.

The doctor sighed and stood up. He glanced at Dazai one last time and then went to the front door. Now he was going to meet Dazai's crush. He was excited. What would the kid look like? He pushed the door opener. And then a short red-haired boy appeared in front of Mori and he felt like he was going to lose his mind all over again.

The boy was beautiful. He looked so unique, was so petite. Unbelievable. Dazai had good taste.

“I'm Nakahara Chuuya.” The boy bowed. “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you. I'm Mori Ougai, and I'm Dazai's mother's boyfriend.” He smiled.

Chuuya entered the apartment and followed the doctor into the kitchen. He noticed how little Dazai and his mother had. They seemed to be poor.

“I'm afraid Dazai-kun has fallen asleep. But he'll wake up soon. Wine?”

“Sure,” replied Chuuya, sitting down. He didn't seem to question the fact that Dazai had fallen asleep. He was just excited to be at his crush's house. And this Mori guy seemed really nice too. The main thing was that Dazai would wake up soon so that Chuuya could explain everything to him calmly. On the phone, the brunette's voice had sounded strange somehow. As if he were drunk.

Chuuya watched as Mori poured red wine into two glasses. He thought it was pretty cool that an adult would just give him alcohol like that. They clinked glasses. Chuuya took a big sip. Wow, the wine tasted really good. It was probably not the cheap stuff they had at home.

“Dazai-kun has already told me about you,” Mori began.

“Really? What did he say?” The redhead was very curious about that. Understandably so. Mori and Dazai must have had a close bond.

“Let’s put it this way,” Mori took a sip, “he was very, very sad when he found out that you went on a date. You should have seen him.”

Chuuya stared at the other with wide eyes. “Really? But that wasn’t even a date! Shit!” He drew his brows together in frustration.

“H-hello?” Suddenly Dazai was standing in the doorway, holding on to the frame. He must have woken up just now.

“Dazai-kun! There you are.” Mori stood up, walked over to the boy, took his hand, and led him to the table.

“Chuuya-kun!” Dazai slurred, reaching his hand out to him, but Mori stopped him from touching.

“What’s wrong with him?” the redhead asked, confused, glancing between the two of them. Dazai was clearly drunk. But how could it be that he had been allowed to drink so much under Mori’s supervision? That puzzled Chuuya quite a bit.

“He drank too much. I told you it hit him really hard when it came to you.”

Dazai slumped into the chair next to Chuuya.

“You’re both wearing the same thing,” Chuuya then noticed. They both looked very stylish, and the expensive-looking suits didn’t fit the picture of this rundown apartment at all. His wine glass was empty, and Mori refilled it.

“Well, we actually planned on going out tonight. But a certain someone drank a little too much.” Mori shrugged. “But I don’t want to disturb you two any further. Please make sure Dazai-kun takes off his suit properly so he doesn’t get it dirty.” He stood up. The apartment was small and the walls surely thin. Presumably, Mori wanted to give the two of them some privacy. He seemed like a cool guy, someone who didn’t treat teenagers any differently than adults. Very likeable.

“I’ll do that!” Chuuya assured him, and they said their goodbyes.

When the two were alone, Dazai tilted his head and looked at his crush. “I like you,” he whispered.

How much the hell had Dazai drunk? But it was unbelievably cute—and, honestly, it turned Chuuya on. You had to be real about that.

“I like you too.” Chuuya smiled and took the brunette’s hand.

Then Dazai’s head dropped onto the table. Damn, what was Chuuya supposed to do now? His heart was racing with excitement. Dazai liked him. That was downright magical! Still, he was overwhelmed by the situation. Where was Dazai’s mother, anyway? It was already quite late. Did she always leave her son alone in the evenings?

Chuuya stared at the sleeping boy, his heart beating far too fast. Dazai had really said it. Whispered, soft, vulnerable. “I like you.”

Carefully, Chuuya lifted the brunette’s head from the table so he wouldn’t hurt himself, and gently rested it on his arm. From this close, he could see Dazai’s face. Those long eyelashes, the faint blush on his cheeks from the alcohol, the small scars on his fingers that he had always chosen to ignore. Suddenly, Chuuya’s throat tightened.

“What am I even doing…?” Chuuya muttered, more to himself than to anyone else. He knew Dazai didn’t need a kiss in this moment, no grand gestures, but someone who took him seriously. Someone who was just there. But Chuuya felt far too young, far too inexperienced, to know how to do that properly.

Dazai stirred slightly, murmured something incomprehensible, then buried his face a little deeper into Chuuya’s arm, as if he instinctively sought comfort. Chuuya felt something twist inside his chest. A mixture of happiness and pain.

He just sat there, softly brushing a strand of hair from Dazai’s forehead, and watched as the brunette furrowed his brows in restless sleep. Every fiber of Chuuya screamed to do more—to hold him, to kiss him, to give him something, anything, that could chase away those shadows. But he couldn’t. He didn’t know if it would be right.

In the end, he simply leaned down and pressed a fleeting, almost uncertain kiss to Dazai’s head. So light, like a promise he didn’t even understand himself. He forgot to help Dazai take off the suit, as Mori told him to. But it was better to let the kid sleep anyway. 

“Sleep well, Dazai…” he whispered before carefully slipping his arm out from beneath the other’s head. He pulled an old blanket from the sofa over him, stood up, and exhaled deeply.

The apartment suddenly felt even quieter than before. Every step toward the door echoed in Chuuya’s chest. He was excited, confused, full of warmth and at the same time weighed down by a heavy unease.

Outside, in the hallway, he leaned against the wall and closed his eyes for a moment. Had he done the right thing? Or should he have stayed? Said more? He didn’t know. All he knew was that he had just seen a piece of Dazai’s heart—and it completely unsettled him.

With that chaos in his chest, he finally made his way home—unsure whether he should feel proud or ashamed of how he had acted.

-

When Dazai took a seat in the classroom the next morning, the sunlight that streamed through the dirty windows felt almost like an attack. His head was pounding, and his body felt stiff and heavy, as if he hadn’t really slept at all. He laid his forehead against his arm for a moment, trying not to draw too much attention to himself, but the muffled chatter of the other students made it impossible to drift away.

He barely had time to breathe before he noticed three shadows falling across his desk. Yuan. And two of her friends.

Dazai’s chest tightened instantly. His first thought was that this had to be bad. People like them never came to him with anything good. His palms grew clammy, his throat dry. His stomach twisted uncomfortably—it wasn’t only nerves, though. He still felt strange. Wrong. The hangover made everything blur at the edges, and his mind was heavy with gaps he couldn’t quite fill.

What exactly had happened last night? He remembered Mori. He remembered the wine. He remembered—nothing after that. Just waking up at the kitchen table with his head on his arms, a dull ache crawling through his body. And his mother hadn’t been home. She hadn’t been home all night. Probably.

The thought made his insides churn. He wanted to forget, but forgetting didn’t work, not when the absence of memory was worse than the truth itself.

„Hey…“ Yuan’s voice cut through his thoughts, falsely sweet, dripping with hesitation that didn’t sound real at all.

Dazai slowly lifted his head, blinking at her. His lips parted but no words came out.

„I’ll be honest with you,“ she continued, shifting her weight like this was some kind of performance. „Chuuya-kun told us to talk to you, so here we are.“

What? His brain needed a second to catch up. Chuuya told them to talk to him? That made no sense. Out of everyone, why them?

„Yeah, it’s not like we’re doing this by choice,“ Sekurise added, smacking her gum loudly. Her bored expression made it clear she didn’t want to be here.

Dazai’s heartbeat hammered in his ears. He couldn’t tell if it was the anxiety or the leftover wine poisoning his system. His voice came out smaller than he wanted, barely audible. „Okay…“

Yuan and her friends exchanged glances and giggled as if this was all some inside joke. Yuan leaned a little closer, her lips curling into a smug smile. „Anyway, we talked to you, so bye-bye. Take a shower or something.“

The words hit him like a slap. Dazai lowered his eyes instantly, his hands balling into fists under the desk. They smelled perfume, makeup, laughter. He smelled of sweat, stale alcohol, and shame.

„Wait, Chuuya-kun said to look out for him…“ the third girl—he didn’t even remember her name—interrupted quietly. She seemed the only one actually trying to take the task seriously.

Dazai blinked up at her, confusion stirring. Look out for him? Why? He didn’t understand what was happening anymore. His mind was too foggy.

„I don’t care,“ Yuan snapped before he could ask. Her tone was sharp now, her eyes hard as she pierced him with her gaze. „Dazai-chan, if Chuuya-kun asks you, you will tell him we hung out with you the entire day. Got it?“

He swallowed thickly. „Okay.“

That was all he managed.

„Fucking weirdo…“ Sekurise muttered with a grin, loud enough for him to hear, before the three of them strutted back to their seats, laughing under their breaths.

Dazai stared at the scratched surface of his desk. His reflection in the varnish looked pale and sickly, his hair unkempt. What was that just now? Some kind of cruel prank? Or… was Chuuya really behind it? No. That didn’t fit. Chuuya was different. He had to be different.

But right now, Dazai was too exhausted, too sick, too broken to untangle the knots. His stomach twisted again, his vision swayed, and he let his head sink back down onto his folded arms. All he wanted was to disappear into sleep, into silence, into nothing at all.

During lunch break Dazai decided to hide on the roof. Hopefully they would leave him alone there. But of course they didn’t. They never did. The door to the place from where you could look over the city swung open, Tachihara and Dostoyevsky approached. A deadly duo. 

Dazai sighed. He knew what would come. It wasn’t particularly pleasant. Not at all. 

The bullying was destroying the boy. It was exhausting and only fueled his self-hatred even more. To be completely honest, Chuuya was the only reason Dazai kept going. He had fallen in love, and that kept him from ending it all. Besides, Mori would help him become a real boy. Physically, that is. These two things helped Dazai keep going.

“Are you hiding from us?” Tachihara had a cigarette between his lips. Smoking was strictly forbidden on school grounds, but of course, these daredevils didn't care.

Dostoyevsky had his hands in his pants pockets, a bored expression on his face.

Dazai reflexively stood up, his back to the railing. “Please leave me alone,” he whispered, even though he knew it was futile.

“What was that?” Tachihara asked, pulling out a lighter. The two of them now stood in front of Dazai, who couldn't utter a sound.

“Come on, get started,” Dostoyevsky said. “We want to try something, you know. Something new. Was my idea.”

Fuck, what were the two of them up to? Tachihara lit the cigarette and took a drag. Dostoyevsky took another step toward Dazai and held him by the shoulders. “We're going to decorate you now,” he said. Then he let go of the brunette.

Tachihara grinned as he stood in front of Dazai and held the cigarette in front of his nose. “This is our brush. You are the canvas.” Then he pressed the cigarette against Dazai's neck. It hurt like hell.

Dazai cried out in pain. Tachihara’s grin widened, the smoke curling around Dazai’s face until his lungs stung from just breathing.

It was a white-hot sting at his neck, sharp and blinding, like fire pressed into his skin. His knees buckled, and he collapsed to the floor with a choked sob.

He covered his face with his arms, but it did nothing to block out the laughter. Nothing to stop the acrid smell of smoke that now clung to him, burned into him.

“Look at him. Pathetic,” Dostoevsky muttered, his voice dripping with disdain.

Dazai wanted to vanish, to peel himself out of his own body and float far, far away. Anywhere was better than here—where his skin still burned, where every sound reminded him he was trapped.

The sting at his neck was pulsing like a brand, and no matter how tightly he pressed his palm against it, the pain spread like ripples in water. He could hear his own breath — short, broken gasps — louder than anything else, though the laughter above him made the world smaller, tighter, unbearable.

“See how easy it is?” Tachihara exhaled smoke into the air, then leaned down as though to admire his handiwork. “Already marked like a dog.”

Dazai flinched, his hands clamped to his throat as though he could shield himself. He wanted to shout, to tell them to stop, but his voice came out as nothing more than a whimper. Words failed him the same way his body always did: too weak, too slow, too easy to corner.

Dostoevsky crouched a little, his eyes sharp and calculating, as if Dazai were nothing more than a puzzle he had yet to solve. “What’s interesting,” he said slowly, “is how quickly you crumble. No fight. No dignity. It’s like you know you deserve it.” His smirk deepened as Dazai’s eyes widened. “Do you? Do you think you deserve it?”

The question cut deeper than the burn. Dazai’s throat tightened, the sting in his skin eclipsed by something far worse: the possibility that maybe, maybe they were right. Maybe there really was something broken in him that invited this kind of cruelty. Why else would it never stop? 

Tachihara flicked ash onto the ground beside Dazai’s hand, close enough to make him jerk it back. “Don’t worry. No one cares enough to ask about you anyway. You’ll just cover it up like you always do.” 

That part hurt more than the fire and the sneers. Because it was true. Tomorrow he’d walk into class, collar high, head down. No one would notice the mark, and if they did, they’d look away. The teachers never asked questions, and the students never wanted answers. He was invisible, until it was convenient to drag him into the light and humiliate him.

Tachihara crouched down next to Dazai. Then he grabbed the boy’s arm and put the cigarette out on it. It fucking hurt. Even more then on his neck. The pressure Tachihara applied was making Dazai feel as if the cigarette burned an entire hole into his arm. He couldn’t stand it, started to cry. 

Why was Dazai such crybaby? He was always giving his bullies exactly what they wanted. 

The two boys turned away at last, bored with their toy. Dostoevsky muttered something to Tachihara that Dazai couldn’t catch, and they left, footsteps fading, smoke lingering.

Only then did Dazai let himself crumble completely. He was curled on the ground, his arms wrapped tight around his chest. If he could just make himself small enough, maybe the world would forget he existed.

But the burn at his neck and arm throbbed with every heartbeat, a cruel reminder that he was still here. Still trapped in a body that hurt, in a life that mocked him.

Hot tears slipped down his cheeks, silent at first, then spilling faster when he realized no one was around to hear. No one ever was.

He thought of Chuuya, of the rare kindness in his voice, and the image almost made it worse. Because if someone like Chuuya could see him now—shaking, sobbing, branded with smoke and cruelty—what would he think? Probably that Dazai was every bit as pathetic as the others said.

The thought hollowed him out completely. Alone on the rooftop, he cried until his chest ached, until he felt emptied of everything but pain.

And still, the mark on his skin burned, whispering that tomorrow it would all start again.

…

The walk home felt longer than usual, though the route was the same cracked pavement, the same dull fences and convenience store signs glowing against the gray sky. Every step was heavy, as if the rooftop hadn’t really let him go, as if the laughter and the smell of smoke were still clinging to his skin.

He kept his collar pulled high. It stung every time the fabric touched it, but what else could he do?

His shoes scuffed the asphalt. He kept his head down, praying not to run into classmates. The world blurred at the edges, colors dull and washed out, and he realized belatedly that his eyes were still wet. He wiped at them quickly, angrily, before the tears could fall again.

By the time he reached the apartment building — that tired concrete block that always seemed on the verge of crumbling — his chest felt tight from holding everything in. He pushed open the door to their unit, the hinges creaking, and was met by the familiar stale air of cigarette smoke and leftover takeout.

“Dazai-chan?” His mother’s voice came from the kitchen. She didn’t sound worried. Just distracted, like she always did.

“I’m home,” he mumbled. His throat felt raw. He set his bag down too hard, and the thud echoed through the small space.

Hinata appeared in the doorway, a glass of wine in her hand. She gave him a quick glance, then frowned. “What’s wrong with you? You look like a ghost.”

Dazai’s lips trembled before he could stop them. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, but it only grew heavier. The words tumbled out before he could catch them: “They… they burned me.” His voice cracked. “They held me down and—” He broke off, clutching his arms, trying to make himself smaller.

For a second, he thought she might come closer. That maybe, just this once, she would touch his shoulder, or pull him into her arms, or say something that made the hurt less unbearable.

But Hinata just clicked her tongue and crossed her arms. “You’re crying again? Honestly, Dazai-chan. Do you know how weak you sound right now?”

The words hit harder than the burn at his neck. His chest caved inward.

“Stop being such a crybaby,” she went on, her tone sharp, impatient. “Life is hard. People are cruel. You think you’re the only one who has to deal with that? Toughen up, or you’ll never survive in this world. You always want to be treated like a boy, but you act like a little girl all the time. A real man would never behave like you.”

Dazai felt like such a loser. He wanted to explain, to make her understand how much it hurt, how scared he had been, how alone he felt. But the words wouldn’t come. She had already dismissed him, turned back into the kitchen as though nothing had happened.

He was left there, shaking, trying to muffle his sobs in the crook of his arm. The apartment felt colder than the rooftop, emptier than the long walk home.

Dazai knew: it didn’t matter how loudly he cried. No one was coming to comfort him.

So Dazai hid away in his room. He sat down on his bed and stared at the wall. He didn’t dare go into the kitchen to get an ice pack for the burn wounds. The fear of another confrontation with his mother was too great.

Dazai thought about her words… he really did act like a little girl. He never fought back. But that wasn’t because of his gender—it was because of his character. Since Dazai didn’t understand that, the self-hatred in this situation tormented him all the more.

Hinata’s voice ripped him out of his thoughts. “Dazai-chan, phone for you!”

Kun! Dazai thought bitterly. Why can’t you just say kun? In that moment, grief turned into anger. It’s three damn letters, how hard could it be?

He stood up and went into the kitchen. “Mommy, I told you, I want you to use -kun.” His voice was frustrated, maybe even a little bratty.

“What’s this about now?” Hinata asked, the receiver still in her hand. “I accept that you want to be a boy.”

“No, you don’t!”

“Osamu Dazai, that’s enough! What is wrong with you? Do you have your period, is that why you’re having these mood swings?”

That was the last straw. The period was an absolutely sensitive topic for Dazai. He hated it. Yes, he hated it so much because it reminded him that he was in the wrong body.

“Stop it! Stop saying those things! That’s mean!” Dazai’s voice was louder now. That almost never happened. He usually didn’t talk back to his mother.

Hinata stepped up to him and slapped him across the face. “Enough!” she hissed. “You will apologize to me right when you're done, understood?”

Shocked, Dazai stared at his mother with his big doe eyes. Then she shoved the receiver into his hand. Right… he had completely forgotten that someone had called for him. Who could it be? One thing was certain, the person must have overheard the fight. Embarrassing.

“Hello?” said Dazai.

“Hey. It’s me.” It was Chuuya—and the brunette’s heart skipped a beat. Of all people, it had been Chuuya who overheard the argument. That was beyond embarrassing.

“Hey.” Dazai forgot the pain in his neck, his arm, and his cheek. Chuuya was like a human bandage.

“Is everything okay?” Chuuya asked hesitantly.

“Uh, yeah… well, I just… I mean, my mother…” Dazai stammered, glancing at Hinata, who was giving him a reproachful look.

“It’s okay. Listen, I’m calling because I want to see you.”

Fuck yes! Dazai thought. He still couldn’t believe that Chuuya actively sought out his company. “I’d love that! I mean, me too. I want to see you too.” He didn’t remember that Chuuya had been at his place yesterday.

“Cool. Want to go eat at Sukiya?”

“Sure! When?”

“Well, I’m actually free now,” Chuuya said.

Dazai felt excitement rise inside him. Going out to eat. Just the two of them. A date! “I’m free too.”

“Then I’ll come pick you up. See you in a bit.” Was that a smile he heard in Chuuya’s voice? Dazai wanted to hug the whole world in his joy.

“See you soon!”

The grin on Dazai’s face stretched wide.

“Now you’re smiling again,” Hinata remarked reproachfully. “You’re such a strange child.”

“Sorry about earlier. I’m really sorry.”

No reply. Whatever! Chuuya would be picking him up soon. This day was truly a rollercoaster of emotions.

Chapter Text

Dazai was excited. He had always thought that nobody would ever accept him, let alone like him. He didn’t even feel like his own mother truly saw him for who he was. At school, as we all know, our Dazai was an outsider, and everyone made sure he knew that he was different. That it was a bad thing to be different. 

So the day he sat next to that damn cute Chuuya on the bus, he was completely blown away. A guy that good-looking was talking to him. To him. The loser of Yokohama. The fact, that Dazai believed the whole thing had to be some cruel joke just to hurt him even more, speaks volumes.

Since that morning, Chuuya hadn’t left his mind. Dazai thought about him constantly. He had fantasies, sure, but often he just thought about wholesome little moments that might one day happen between them. And then there was the fact that Chuuya was making the effort on his own to reach out to Dazai. Nobody was forcing him to. That was simply unbelievable. Yes, if you ignored all the mess of everything else going on, things were actually going pretty well in Dazai’s life at that moment. Maybe even better than ever before.

And so, Dazai finally stood in front of his wardrobe. He was about to meet up with his crush and had no idea what to wear. It shouldn’t be too formal, nothing over the top. At the same time, Dazai wanted to look better than usual. But how was he supposed to pull that off? Most of his clothes were old, bought from second-hand shops. His mother only bought him new ones when it was absolutely necessary—when he’d outgrown them or they were simply falling apart.

Should he just wear his school uniform? No, that would be too boring. But the slacks from his school uniform—that would be a good choice. Since it was relatively warm that day, Dazai decided on the short pants instead. They reached just a little above his knees. With them, he wore his long white socks, pulled all the way up. Out of sheer overwhelm and complete lack of fashion sense, Dazai finally put on a black turtleneck sweater. He thought it looked kind of smart.

When he looked at himself in the mirror like that, he didn’t feel particularly good, as usual. He was so scrawny, wished he just had more muscle. His face was narrow, and his eyes way too big.

I look like a girl, Dazai thought, and he felt his stomach twist. He stepped away from the mirror and sat down on his bed. Now, right before he had to leave, his body dysmorphia, his insecurity, and the pounding of his heart all screamed at him to cancel the meeting. Surely Chuuya would be embarrassed to be seen outside with Dazai. He couldn’t do that to his crush. Maybe it really was better to chicken out.

But then there was a knock at his door. Right now, just when the world was upside down again and balancing on it felt unbearably hard.

“Dazai-kun. Can I come in?” his mother asked a little hesitantly. She was never hesitant—maybe when she pretended to be when she went out with Mori, to seem cute.

“Yeah,” was all Dazai said. She had actually used -kun. Out of her mouth, it sounded so unusual, so foreign. And yet, it felt a million light years better.

Hinata stepped inside and leaned against the doorframe. “Listen, I wanted to give you something, since today you… since you’re meeting someone today.”

Dazai looked up at her. She made a small gesture, a kind of nod with her head, and the brunette stood up. It meant something like: come over here for a moment.

"I think it’s really nice that you’re doing something for once. Really." Hinata smelled like whiskey. She rarely drank whiskey. Usually it was always wine or vodka. "That’s why I wanted to give you a little money. So you two can do something nice." She didn’t smile as she said those words. It was obvious that this was hard for her. Showing affection wasn’t her thing. Being caring—not at all. No wonder Dazai often felt like a stranger in his own home. Like some kind of uninvited guest.

Hinata held out five thousand yen. Five thousand. She never gave him that much money.
Dazai took it. "Thank you so much. That’s really kind of you." He could hardly believe he was actually holding that banknote in his hands.

"Anyway… I’ll be spending the night at Mori-san’s today. So I’ll see you tomorrow." She turned, closed the door behind her.

Dazai just stood there, stunned. Was Hinata being nice because she had a boyfriend now? No, earlier she had been so cruel. That couldn’t be it. Well, maybe it was the whiskey. Maybe whiskey made her nice. What mattered was the five thousand yen bill and the fact that she had said -kun. In moments like these, the boy truly liked his mother.

He glanced at the clock on his nightstand. Time to go. Chuuya would be waiting for him downstairs. Dazai slipped the bill into his pocket and went to the genkan  to put on his shoes. Hinata must have been in her room now—probably getting herself all made up for her date.

Dazai walked down the stairs. And there he was already: he looked so hot! Chuuya wore a white t-shirt and a leather jacket. Along with, just like Dazai, the pants from their school uniform. Only Chuuya had chosen the long version. What a coincidence.

"Hey," Chuuya said. "How are you?"

"Good, and you?" Dazai smiled without even realizing it.

"I’m good too. By the way, you look nice. Black suits you."

A compliment! Dazai’s heart was pounding and pounding. How did you even react to something like that?
"Uhm… thanks." The brunette looked away shyly.

"Come on, let’s go." Chuuya tilted his head toward the park. Did he actually want to take a little walk first? Sukiya was in the opposite direction, after all.

And then it happened. Chuuya grabbed Dazai’s hand. Just like that. It was too good to be true. This had to be a dream. With wide eyes and held breath, Dazai felt Chuuya’s hand in his. It was a little smaller than his own, and cool to the touch. Dazai’s hands, on the other hand, were usually clammy. Nervous sweat. Hopefully they weren’t too damp right now. That would make him seem weird.

"How was your day?" Chuuya asked, almost casually.

Answering that question wasn’t as simple as it seemed at first glance. The truth? A lie? Something in between? No—Dazai wanted to be honest with Chuuya. The person who was willing to hold his hand in public deserved that much.

"To be honest," Dazai began, "up until just now, not so good. At school… well, I was on the roof and…"

The redhead cut him off, “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to.” He seemed to know exactly what this was about. How attentive of him! But Dazai wanted to talk about it. Even if he couldn’t fully explain why to himself. He just felt comfortable with the other. Certainly.

“It's fine. So Dostoevsky-kun and Tachihara-kun — do you know those two?”

“Of course, they’re total bastards,” Chuuya said dryly, and somehow Dazai had to laugh.

“You can say that again!” He was really warming up. “Anyway, they came up with something new.” Dazai stopped, and Chuuya looked at him expectantly. Those eyes. Damn, those eyes. Dazai had never seen anything more beautiful. Would he ever get used to the sight?

Dazai came to a halt, pulled down the collar of his turtleneck. “Here.”

Chuuya looked closely. “A burn.” he observed. “What did those idiots do? That’s going too far! Who do they think they are?” Chuuya sounded angry. Truly angry.

I don't deserve that, Dazai thought. Then he said, “They pressed a cigarette out on me. Also on my arm. Then they called me a dog… uh I think. Something like that.”

Chuuya shook his head. “I can’t believe it, man. Damn, if I weren’t suspended, I’d beat those two up first thing tomorrow. I mean, what did you even do to them? Nothing! What is wrong with them? Why are people like this?”

For the first time, Dazai felt like someone actually took the bullying he endured every day seriously. He felt seen.

“I don’t know either. I think they’re just like that. I dunno.” Dazai mumbled. He could still feel Chuuya’s hand in his.

On that note, Yokohama was a dump. It wasn’t surprising that Yuan sat on a bench with Sekurise, a little further away from the two boys, gossiping—about everyone, really. When she spotted her two classmates, her jaw literally dropped. “Oh. My. God!” she said and elbowed her friend. “Look!” she said excitedly.

“No way?” Sekurise replied.

“How can that be?” Yuan balled her fists. “I think I’m stuck in a really bad movie!”

“That’s Dazai-chan, right?”

“Yes. Unbelievable! Why are they holding hands and walking around? Chuuya-kun was on a date with me! I want him to like me! Shit!” Yuan completely lost it. “Dazai-chan will regret this! Throwing herself at my almost-boyfriend like that! That slut!”

“What a slut!” Sekurise agreed. “Dazai-chan’s definitely deluding himself. He’s such a loser! Apparently Chuuya-kun doesn’t know that yet.”

“Honestly, how does Chuuya-kun even stand being seen with her? I’d kill myself before I’d hang around with her voluntarily. The girls have to know about this tomorrow! They will think I made this up!”

Yuan and Sekurise began to hatch a plan for how to ruin Dazai the next day. Meanwhile, the conversation between our two lovebirds deepened.

“Can I ask when it started?” Chuuya wanted to know. They left the park.

“When I still…” Dazai exhaled; he hated saying it. But he had promised himself to be honest. “When I still wore the other school uniform, it wasn’t as bad. In elementary school, basically. The others were still mean to me and stuff, but… I then started wearing the boys’ uniform in seventh grade. That was pretty early in the school year, but the others had met me in the girls’ uniform first.”

“I see.” Chuuya nodded and squeezed the brunette’s hand. He was saying: it’s okay. I understand this isn’t easy for you right now.

And it wasn’t easy for Dazai. He bit his lip, trying to hold himself together. Under no circumstances did he want to start crying in front of his crush. That would be horribly embarrassing.

But with a slightly shaky voice, he went on: “So from then on they all started insulting me. They said all kinds of things to me. That’s how it began. The teachers never noticed anything. Still, I realized Tachiki-sensei was looking at me weird. They never understood what was going on. And then it just got worse and worse, day by day. The boys are the cruelest. They started beating me up. Every day. Usually behind the school building where no one could see. Sometimes in the bathrooms and stuff. Even if I’m used to it by now, Chuuya-kun, I’m always really scared of them.”

Chuuya stopped walking. He took Dazai’s other hand—Dazai thought he might faint from love—and looked him deep in the eyes. “You know, I think you’re amazing. Honestly. And I think you’ve noticed how much I hate those assholes for treating you this way. So I’m going to promise you something right now: from the moment on I’m back at school, I’ll make sure nothing like this ever happens again. I’ll protect ya. You can believe me.”

That meant the world to Dazai. No, the entire Milky Way, the whole universe. Chuuya would protect him? That was so devoted. And, also, he thought it was hot. Of course Dazai was getting wet at these words. His thoughts were running wild as the redhead pulled him into a hug. Dazai breathed in his scent. Fuck, he smelled so good. Dazai wanted to stay like this forever. He never got hugged. Mori had been the first to show him that kind of physical affection. His mother seemed to hate even touching him. No wonder then that touch-starved Dazai savored this moment completely. He felt all tingly down there. 

When they pulled apart, he said: “Thank you. You don’t know how much this means to me. You know, no one’s ever been as nice to me as you just were.”

Chuuya smiled. The most beautiful smile in the world. “And for me, it’s only natural. Come on, let’s go get something to eat.”

They started walking again, and Dazai was floating on cloud nine. Had he really found someone?Oh, how much he wanted to kiss Chuuya. To make out, get closer to him.

They talked about Tachiki-sensei and eventually arrived at Sukiya. Both ordered curry rice and sat down. The food came right away.

“Thanks for paying. I was actually planning on doing that.” Chuuya smiled.

“Of course. I got the money from my mother,” Dazai explained. “I was really surprised when she gave it to me.”

“So, what’s your relationship with your mother like?”

“Not so good. She doesn’t really like me.” Enough about me, Dazai thought. “But tell me, what’s it like at your place?”

Chuuya suddenly seemed a little lost in thought. “Alright,” he exhaled, “you told me so openly about your life, so I want to be honest too. My brother, Verlaine-niisan, is my father’s favorite. He can do everything better than me. The guy is ridiculously smart. He’s super popular and everything just comes so fucking natural to him. Because I’m different, they always make me feel it. If I ever ask Verlaine-niisan for advice, he always reacts condescendingly. So I usually just leave it. I think I’m kind of the black sheep of the family. My mother left my father. She looks a lot like me, and sometimes I think that’s why my father hates me.” He took a spoonful of his curry.

Dazai understood him all too well. Even though his own family life wasn’t pleasant, it was somehow comforting to know Chuuya knew what it was like — that he’d experienced things in his own way. Dazai thought the two of them were made for each other. It was a pity they’d only just met. Maybe things would have been different if they’d stumbled into each other’s lives earlier. But you couldn’t think like that. Better now than never. Besides, Dazai couldn’t have been more grateful. Heaven had sent him the redhead. It must have been angels looking out for the boy.

“That sounds really awful,” Dazai said. “So you don’t like being at home either?”

Chuuya shook his head. “I don’t like it at all. I hang out outside a lot. You know, I don’t have many friends here, so I’m usually on my own. Most people annoy me. Everyone’s so two-faced. They act nice on the outside but are monsters inside. I can’t stand that. But I noticed you were different right away. I think that’s why I sought you out.”

“But everyone at school wants to be friends with you.”

“Not me. I don’t want to be friends with them. It was awful when I went on that fake date with Yuan-chan. Oh yeah, I wanted to tell you about that.” He cleared his throat. “So it was like this: because I was suspended, I wanted to make sure you’d be relatively safe. That’s why I met with Yuan-chan and asked her to watch out for you at school. But now I think she believes we’ll be going out more often and stuff. She’s so fake. The whole thing felt like forever. She was trying so hard to be cute. Ugh!”

So that was it. That explained why Yuan had been so weird with Dazai. It was ridiculously sweet that Chuuya was behind it — that he’d been thinking about and worrying over the brunette.

“Thanks for doing that.”

“No problem. But tell me, did they talk to you and stuff?”

Dazai looked a little shaken. “They talked, yeah. But it wasn’t nice.”

“Fuck, I should have expected that!” Chuuya slapped his palm to his forehead. “I'm such an idiot, man.”

Dazai waved that off hastily. “No, that was really kind of you! You can’t help that they’re mean.”

“You’re right. Still shitty. You had a really awful day.”

Dazai hesitated a moment before saying, “Thanks to you, it turned out really nice. I—” he almost said never, but decided not to be too dramatic, “haven’t had such a good day in a long time.”

Chuuya’s face lit up. Yes, he practically glowed. “Really? That makes me happy! I also really like spending time with you. I like that you’re not like the others.”

“I like you too.” Dazai’s hand shot up to his mouth. “Uh, sorry, I didn’t mean to say that, I mean…”

“That doesn’t bother me.” The redhead leaned forward a little. “I like you too.”

Yep, now Dazai was going to faint. Too much of a good thing. Too much! How was he supposed to handle all this? Well—handle it in a good way, that is. All these compliments, this closeness. It was so incredibly nice and so new. He wanted it to never stop, even if he felt a little overwhelmed.

The two kept eating, talking about everything under the sun. Then:
“I don’t want to go home yet,” Chuuya said.

Dazai thought for a moment, then answered, “We could go to my place. My mom’s not home.”

“Really?” Chuuya’s eyes widened. “That’d be so cool!”

Dazai nodded.

“Then let’s go!” Chuuya said.

They left the restaurant, stood outside. Chuuya turned to the brunette: “What should we do at your place? Do you have alcohol?”

Of course, Dazai’s thoughts instantly turned perverted. There were plenty of things they could do. With each other. 

Drifting of, Dazai thought of Chuuya touching him. Of them kissing and his crush leaning over him. His fingers touching him, where it felt the best. 

„You okay?“ The redhead asked. 

Dazai stood there with his mouth slightly agape. Fuck. „Sorry.“ He whispered. 

Chuuya took the other’s hand. „This way, right?“ Had he really remembered where Dazai lived?

„Yeah.“ 

„So have you ever had a boyfriend?“ Chuuya wanted to know, looking right in front. It seemed like he had really wanted to ask this question. Maybe he had just wanted to wait for the right moment to do so. 

„No.“ Dazai said. After all, they were young. Most people don’t have a boyfriend at the age of fourteen. Still, Chuuya seemed really mature for his age. He was well spoken, smart. 

„Me neither.“ 

What a relief! So it was his first time to…or was it? They arrived at Dazai’s apartment building. Sukiya was close to his house. He pulled out his keys and they took the elevator. Then they stepped inside. 

Dazai went straight into the kitchen to get some wine. It would soothe his nerves. He had remembered how Chuuya had sat next to him that one night, telling him how he stole that wine from his father. He lured them both a glass. 

„Thank you.“ Chuuya said and they sat down on the couch. Their knees were touching and Dazai was really fucking nervous. What was going to happen now? 

Suddenly Chuuya turned to Dazai and he looked at him for a moment before he finally kissed him. Their lips met and their tongues explored each other. Dazai was a little unsure of how to behave. He was so unerxpieriecend. Was he doing this right? Was this how you kiss? He tried to imitate what Chuuya was doing who, on the other hand, seemed like a professional at this. They kissed for a long time and when they let go of each other spit still connected their mouth for a second. 

Dazai was breathing heavily, which he only noticed this just now. Then Chuuyas fingers slowly traced over his knee. It made Dazai shiver. He felt this sensation in his entire body. All the while Chuuya was looking at him. There was something new in his eyes. Something greedy, lustvoll even. They started kissing again and Chuuya’s fingers moved higher and higher. It made Dazai moan. He simply couldn't help it. All this touching really made him almost lose his mind. At least that is what it felt like. 

„Is this okay with you?“ The redhead asked, looking down at Dazai’s thigh. 

„Mhh-hh.“ Dazai nodded. He looked so desperate. His cheeks were a little flushed, eyebrows slightly drawn together. He didn't know for how much longer he’d be able to take this. He needed more. So he decided to get more. He pulled Chuuya closer, whispered in his ear: „I want you.“ Something had taken over in this moment. Something that was bigger than what Dazai usually was able to do. He never imagined himself being so flirty, thought he was way to awkward for this. 

In that very moment though, he was able to be this way.

„Fuck…“ Chuuya moaned. Then he pushed the other down on the couch. He leaned over the brunette, started to kiss his neck. 

Dazai let out shaky moans, completely wet. He felt Chuuya’s body on his and it felt so fucking good. The redhead was really careful with the spot where the burn was. He was so gentle, yet he took what he wanted. Dazai closed his eyes, his head fell back. Biting down on his lip, he tried not to be too loud. It was hard to control himself. 

But then the key, turning in the door lock, was heard. Chuuya shot up. 

„Oh no.“ Was all Dazai could say, before Mori and Hinata entered and started at the two boys. What the hell were they doing here?

Chapter Text

All that went through Dazai’s head was: Shit, shit, shit! He had sat up, his whole body tense. Mori and Hinata were staring at the two teenagers. Hinata looked horrified, while the faintest trace of a smile played on Mori’s lips.

What on earth was Chuuya thinking now? He had to be at least as embarrassed as Dazai was.

The redhead had gotten up and bowed. Was he seriously keeping a cool head?
“Good evening. I’m Nakahara Chuuya. It’s a pleasure to meet you!”

Mori whispered something into Hinata’s ear, touching her shoulder gently. She nodded. Then he stepped toward Chuuya.
“Chuuya-kun! Good to see you again. How are you?”

“I’m fine. And you?” Looking at Chuuya, no one would ever guess he’d just been caught in the middle of a heated makeout session.

“I’m good too. We got home a little earlier than planned.” Only then did Dazai notice the plastic bag in the man’s hand.
“We had the leftovers packed up. Are you hungry?” Mori, too, remained perfectly calm. But the thought of everyone sitting down together at the table now made Dazai feel sick.

“Well, we already ate, but…” Chuuya glanced at the brunette, “I could still go for a bite.” He smiled.

Dazai didn’t react. He still sat there like he was frozen in place.

“Babe, can we talk for a moment?” Hinata was suddenly standing next to Mori, taking his hand.

“Of course,” he replied.

Hinata pulled her date into the bedroom and closed the door. Then, with her eyes shut, she exhaled.
“Thank you for handling that so well. But I’m confused. First of all, I don’t think it’s right that Dazai-kun brings a boy home and is… you know… doing that with him. They’re far too young for that!”

“At that age, it’s normal,” Mori said, kissing the top of her head.

“Secondly, I don’t understand what this means for Dazai-kun. I mean… is he gay now? What is he? If this counts as being gay, I’m afraid I don’t like it. I don’t think I could tolerate something like that. Especially not in my own home.”

If only you knew, Mori thought. In truth, the only reason he was dating Hinata was to get close to her son. Partly to treat him, and partly… well, you can surely guess the rest by now. It was important to support the woman in this situation. Mori played the perfect boyfriend. He almost enjoyed pretending. Yes, it even felt like some kind of game.

When they walked in on the boys, it made Mori exited. It was barely 7 seconds, but he really liked what he saw in that moment. Chuuya was on top of Dazai, who’s body was shaking a little. He was moaning and Chuuya was kissing his neck. Did he give the other a hickey? The sight of this was pure beauty and Mori knew: he wanted to see this again. In fact, he’d love to take a video of it. Surely he would be able to arrange this eventually. Somehow. 

“What Dazai-kun is doesn’t matter. He’s your son, and you love him.”

Hinata interrupted Mori: “Of course it matters! I don’t want a gay child!” Her voice had grown louder.

“Shhhh,” Mori said. “Let’s calm down first, okay?”

“I can’t calm down! Why is he doing this to me? Why does he always have to pile more on top? Isn’t it enough that he’s transgender? That’s enough! No, I do not allow what’s happening right now.”

“Hinata-chan, please, just get to know Chuuya-kun first. He’s a good boy.”

The woman looked shocked. “Excuse me? Does that mean you already know that kid? I knew something was off when you two talked just now. How could you? How could you keep this secret from me?” She was furious.

“I only wanted to give Dazai-kun the chance to tell you himse—” Interrupted again.

“I’ve had enough! Enough is enough!” Hinata stormed out of the room before Mori could even begin to stop her.

Fuck. He could already guess what was about to happen, and it was anything but good! He had to protect Dazai. This couldn’t be allowed to escalate. Mori had never seen his girlfriend like this. She was usually sweet and gentle. Had a sense of humor, was great in bed. But aggressive? No, she had never been like this before.

So Mori rushed after her. Dazai and Chuuya were sitting side by side on the couch, and Hinata loomed over them.
“That’s enough! I don’t allow you to do something like this with someone! You’re young, far too young. And you’re confused!”

“Wait, Hinata!” Mori grabbed her shoulders and turned her to face him. He looked down at her. “Don’t say anything you’ll regret later. Please!”

“Why should I regret facing the facts?” Hinata glared at him.

Mori looked at Dazai. He looked terrified. Terrified! Tears were welling in his watery eyes. It was as though they were waiting for permission to fall. He was probably giving everything he had to hold himself together, not wanting to cry in front of Chuuya. That had to be it. The whole situation was awful to watch. Which was exactly why Mori intervened.

“Hinata-chan, let’s drive to my place, okay? There you can calm down and sleep on all of this.”

Suddenly it was as if someone had flipped a switch. Probably, Mori thought, she had just remembered who exactly she is dating and what's at stake: money, good reputation, and the perfect man for a relationship. No wonder she relented.

“I’ll go get my things,” she said.

“That’s good.” Mori kissed her.

When Hinata disappeared, Mori turned to Dazai. “Everything will be fine,” he whispered.

As if he had been waiting for it the whole time, Dazai stood up and hugged Mori. Tightly. Then the tears came. Chuuya also stood and stroked the boy’s back.
“Let it out,” he said softly.

Now Mori was very close to the two boys. He would remember this moment, freeze it in his mind, to revisit it again and again.

“Th-that’s so unfair!” Dazai sobbed desperately.

Mori kissed his head. “I understand. I’ll talk to your mother. It’ll be fine. We’ll handle this.”

Dazai looked up at the adult. “Really?”

“Yes. Really,” Mori confirmed, stroking the brunette’s hair.

“Don’t worry, Dazai-kun. My father would react the same way. Maybe even worse,” Chuuya explained. He really was such a kind and empathetic person. Quite mature for his age. He was something special—that much was clear. And he was good for Dazai. The two of them fit perfectly together, Mori thought. An unbelievably sweet couple.

Then Hinata was back in the room. A small travel bag in her hand. She didn’t yet have her own drawer or anything at her boyfriend’s place. They hadn’t reached that point in their relationship yet.

Mori would have much rather stayed with the boys. Just to look at them, or to talk with them. Even though the game sometimes entertained him, spending time with Hinata felt like an obligation. Not something one did voluntarily. But Mori knew it was the only way to achieve his goals. Sometimes in life, one simply had to make sacrifices.

“Dazai-kun, your friend is going home right now! Understood? And don’t you dare think you can trick me.” Hinata said, walking over to Mori and taking his hand.

“See you.” Mori said and winked at Chuuya. Then the adults left the apartment, and Chuuya and Dazai were alone again.

“How are you feeling?” Chuuya asked. He knew Dazai had a lot to struggle with. His mental state was in shambles. But that didn’t scare the redhead away. He had signed up for this, and he wanted to be there for Dazai. He wanted to help him. Something inside of him was there—a kind of protector’s instinct that told him: take care of Dazai-kun. And do it well.

“I don’t know.” Dazai rubbed his eyes with the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

“Mori-sensei is super nice. I like him.” Chuuya thought it was best to change the subject. Maybe distraction was the best thing right now.

Dazai nodded. “Me too. I’m glad he’s dating my mother. Honestly, I don’t know if she would handle all of this stuff about me without him. I have no idea what I’d do without the sensei.”

Chuuya picked up the two wine glasses from the coffee table and handed one to the other. “Let’s calm our nerves a little.”

They sat back down. Chuuya lifted one of Dazai’s legs and rested it across his thigh. The brunette’s legs were so slim, so light. Did this boy even eat? Well, they had been at Sukiya today. But there was more to it. Dazai couldn’t possibly have a normal diet. You could see it in him.

“Sorry they just barged in like that. My mother said they’d be at Mori-sensei’s. I—”

“Hey, you don’t need to apologize! It’s all fine.” Chuuya smiled. His heart was beating faster, as he looked at Dazai. 

He couldn’t deny how horny this boy made him. Just looking at him alone was enough to make Chuuya’s pants tighten. When they were making out earlier, it felt like he was about to lose his mind. Dazai was too cute, too attractive. He was the definition of perfect. And Chuuya wanted him. He wanted him so fucking bad. At night he dreamt about Dazai. Wet dreams all the time. And during the day the fantasies continued. Chuuya didn’t care one bit, that his crush was a guy. He didn’t care about what others thought of him. He didn’t care how such a thing was frowned upon.

Dazai looked down. His eyelashes were so full and long. If only their make out session could continue. But now just wasn't the time. Still, Chuuya felt pressure. A lot of it. 

„I don’t know what I did to deserve you.“ Dazai mumbled. He flushed ever so slightly.

„And I don’t know what I did to deserve you.“ Chuuya’s finger tilted the other’s chin up, who leaned in closer. Dazai kissed him.

Fuck! The redhead didn’t want his crush to know, how he was hard right now. That would be really embarrassing. He didn’t want to come across as just some horny teenage boy. Wich, granted, he was. Instead he wanted Dazai to see him as true boyfriend material. As the person he wanted to spend his life with. Chuuya knew his intentions. He was serious about this. Hopefully Dazai was too. 

When their lips parted. Dazai was breathing heavy again. If only Chuuya knew, how he was just, if not even more, hornier and perverted than him. 

„I’m sorry…“ Dazai shifted in his seat a little. „Is’ just…I…uhm…“ he didn’t need to say more. Chuuya knew what he needed to do. His hand found his way to the other’s knee. He looked Dazai deep in the eyes, as he moved it up. 

„Do you want to do this?“ Chuuya whispered. 

„Yes.“ Dazai smiled a little. He actually smiled again. He didn’t do that often, but when he did it was as if a new star was born upon the sky. Shining the brightest next to the other thousands of stars. 

Chuuya’s fingers moved between Dazai’s legs, who tilted his head back, moaning. He seemed really touch starved. This little touching made him go crazy. It was really hot and Chuuya was really hard. 

He started slowly stroking the part, where he thought Dazai’s clit was. He had found it, because the brunette grabbed Chuuya’s arm. He moved his finger faster. Dazai’s crotch was warm. The pants fit him rather loosely and through his boxer shorts Chuuya thought he could feel it being wet. 

Then he went in. He unbuttoned Dazai’s pants and pulled the zipper down. Chuuya put on finger in the other’s hole. Fuck yes, it was completely wet. As he pushed his finger deeper, it made wet sounds. A moan escaped his lips. In contrast to Dazai he was being rather quiet. Of course he was concentrated to finger his crush the right way. His thumb moved to Dazai’s clit and as the redhead pushed his ring finger in deeper, his dick twitching, he thought this was what heaven must feel like. 

Dazai moaned, his expression desperate. It almost looked like he was hurt. His arm was still holding onto Chuuya, the grip way tighter now. „Ngghhh..I’m…“ he moaned. 

Chuuya played faster with Dazai’s clit. He now put his middle finger inside of him too. Holy shit, it was so wet. So warm and tight. The walls of the brunette’s inside were closing tightly around Chuuya’s fingers. He looked at Dazai again. 

„Fuckkkk….Ahhhh….“ Dazai bit on his lip, his entire body twitching and shaking. He pushed Chuuya’s hand out of his boy pussy and his hips slightly thrusted forward. What a sight! Dazai looked beautiful when he orgasmed. Chuuya would from now on jerk off to this image. Dazai’s breathing was really heavy. When he had finished, he removed his leg from the other and cuddled onto his chest. „Thank you.“

For a moment they sat in silence. Dazai must've felt real relaxed, while Chuuya couldn’t take it anymore. He was still breathing rather heavy, wich Dazai seemed to notice. His Hand went on Chuuya’s hard dick. „So big…“ he whispered. 

„Can you….?“ Chuuya asked desperately. 

And so Dazai went on his knees. „I’ve never done this before…I’m sorry.“ His slim fingers opened the belt, pulled Chuuya’s pants down. His dick was fully erect. Dazai looked up at him, as if he was waiting for a ‚go‘. Instead the redhead said: „You’re so beautiful…“

At that Dazai put his mouth around Chuuya’s dick. At first you could really tell he was new to this. He made choking sounds, as he tried to take it in deeper. His Hands were on Chuuya’s thighs. But second by second he got better at this. A fast leaner, it seemed. Dazai’s head went up and down and the redhead put his hand on it, allowing himself to push it down. The result: choking sounds that really turned him on. 

Chuuya thrusted his hips forward, taking this tight in. And of course it didn’t take long until he came. Only about three minutes total. Chuuya filled Dazai’s mouth with cum. A lot of cum. To his surprise it was swallowed.

„Damn…“ Chuuya said, completely out of breath, when he was done. „Give me a kiss.“ He commanded.

Dazai sat back on the couch and they kissed. It was a wholesome kiss. You could tell both of them had climaxed, how they were less needy now, simply enjoying each other’s company.

„This was really good.“ Chuuya said and put on arm around Dazai, who put his head on his crushes shoulder. It felt so amazing to be this close to him. If only they could stay like this forever. 

“I thought it was great too,” said Dazai. “I’ve never done anything like that before,” he repeated.

“But you liked it, right?”

“So much! I even had so much fun. I still can’t believe that we… are dating.”

“Me neither! I mean, I’m so happy about it. I feel like you’re the only person in this whole world who understands me. I mean really understands me,” said Chuuya, kissing Dazai’s hair.

“And I know that you understand me.” You could hear the smile in Dazai’s voice.

“Hey, Dazai-kun?”

“Yeah?”

Chuuya exhaled deeply. Then he gathered all his courage and asked it. “Should we be a couple? I mean, only if you want to?” He was damn nervous as those words left his lips. What if he was rushing everything? What if Dazai felt cornered because of it?

Dazai sat up and looked at the redhead. “Are you serious?”

“Yes.”

“I really want to be with you! Like officially! And that’s not a joke?” Dazai asked, a little uncertain.

“Of course it’s not a joke, silly!” Chuuya gave him a quick kiss. Then: “Alright. You’re my boyfriend now. Osamu Dazai, you’ve just made me the happiest boy in all of Yokohama. No, what am I saying? In all of Japan! In the whole world!”

“And you’ve made me the happiest!” There it was again—that beautiful smile.

But all good things have to end eventually. Unfortunately. “Your mother said I should go home. And I want to respect that. I do want her to like her son’s boyfriend, after all.”

Dazai suddenly looked a bit down. “Okay,” he said quietly.

“But we’ll see each other again tomorrow, right? I’ll pick you up from school and we’ll go to Cosmo World! Then we can ride the Ferris wheel together.”

“The Cosmo Clock! Oh, yes!” Dazai’s face lit back up.

Chuuya downed his glass of wine, then stood up. The brunette walked him to the door. “Thanks for everything,” said Dazai.

“I should be thanking you. I can’t wait for tomorrow.”

They kissed passionately. Then Chuuya took both of Dazai’s hands, who said: “I can’t wait either.”

“See you tomorrow. Take care of yourself.” Another little kiss, and then Chuuya let go of the hands he was holding.

“See you tomorrow.”

—

As Dazai was just on his way into the school building, having just stepped through the gate, someone suddenly slung an arm over his shoulder. He flinched in shock.

“Hey, it’s just me!” It was Yuan. What was she doing? What was this supposed to be?

“Sorry…” Dazai mumbled, already feeling the cold sweat of fear running down his body. It always happened when he got nervous.

“I need to have a word with you. At recess.” Yuan smiled. It was a fake, plastered-on smile. “Oh, by the way, there’s this thing called makeup. Ever heard of it?”

“Uhh…”

“So, see you later. You can use the time until then to actually use some deodorant.” Yuan stopped, turned to stand in front of Dazai. “I’d give you mine, but…” she scanned him from head to toe, “you’re just… you.”

She turned around, and immediately the other girls joined her. Dazai was confused. Why the hell would the most popular girl in class, out of nowhere, suddenly want to talk to him? He felt sick with anxiety. For a second he thought he might throw up as he entered the school building. Couldn’t that bitch come up with something new? She was always going on about how Dazai smelled. It was getting really old. Sure, he would rather not have to deal with mean remarks at all, but if he had to…

So when Dazai arrived in the classroom and sat down, his thoughts wandered back to yesterday. It had been so amazing!
Chuuya had been so close to the brunette. He had touched him, they had kissed, and Dazai had orgasmed. It was a completely new experience, and it had been magical. And Dazai had taken his boyfriend’s dick into his mouth. He had really enjoyed sucking it. The taste of sperm wasn’t even bad. Quite the opposite: Dazai liked it—because it was Chuuya’s.

As he kept thinking about all these first times, he got really horny. He wanted to do it again. Maybe next time they would even sleep with each other. That would be so fucking great! Someone had actually touched Dazai, even giving him compliments all the time. This was all so new to him. And then Chuuya had asked him if Dazai wanted to be his boyfriend. Probably the best day of his life. It didn’t even matter anymore that Hinata had been mad at him. Nothing else mattered. They had each other.

Dazai had been so happy in that moment yesterday, he still was. Everything was simply too good to be true. Was he dreaming? One thing was certain: Dazai was in love. Yes, there was so much love inside of him.

His half-dirty, half-wholesome thoughts were interrupted when Yuan appeared in front of him. Again? What the hell was this?

The girl held a small soy sauce packet in her hand. Her expression gave away that she wasn’t planning anything good. Her little gang stood right behind her.

“So,” she said far too loudly, and the other teenagers in the class turned to look at them. Dazai started trembling. His vision blurred a little, and he felt dizzy. Please, just leave me alone! he thought. If only Chuuya were here to help him.

Yuan ripped the soy sauce packet open with her teeth. “So, I was thinking that—” suddenly, she squeezed the sauce out over Dazai’s head. The sauce ran through his hair, some of it dripping onto his face. The whole class burst out laughing. Everyone was laughing.

“Forget the makeup. You’d screw that up anyway. Just try soy sauce instead!” Yuan grinned. This girl was the devil herself. She humiliated Dazai in front of everyone.

Dazai bit his lip. Don’t cry. Don’t cry. He saw the sauce dripping down onto the desk in front of him. He wiped his face with the sleeve of his shirt. Luckily, it wasn’t that much, just a thin stream. Now, though, the sleeve of his white shirt was stained black. Hinata would kill him.

“What’s wrong? About to cry?” Yuan teased. She was actually enjoying this. But that’s how it was with all of Dazai’s bullies.

Dazai frowned. He must have looked like a complete loser, sitting there like that: on the verge of tears, soy sauce in his hair. A complete idiot.

“But don't you know, that boys don’t cry.” Yuan’s voice was cold now. Completely emotionless.

That was the final straw. Dazai stood up and rushed out of the classroom.

“Hey, stop! Where are you going?” It was Mr. Tachiki. Damn it!

Dazai froze, unable to look his teacher in the eyes. Tears were streaming down his face.

“What’s that on your shirt?”

The soy sauce had run down the back of his neck onto the collar of his shirt.

“I… uh…” Dazai stammered. He just wanted to get away from here.

“Why are you crying?” The real question was why Mr. Tachiki sounded slightly annoyed. Dazai couldn’t help it that people picked on him. Why did this man act as if it were the boy’s fault?

“Well… ahhh… Yuan did it in front of everyone… she, in front of everyone,” Dazai sniffled. His voice trembled with tears. “She poured soy sauce over my head.”

Mr. Tachiki shook his head. “That’s not acceptable. I’ll talk to her after class. Go to the bathroom and clean yourself up.” At least that was something.

“Thank you.” Dazai sniffed and gave a small bow. Then he headed for the bathroom, tears still running down his face. Not a single day could pass without someone leaving him alone. He just had to hold on until Chuuya came back.

When Chuuya is back, he’ll show them! Dazai thought. If only Yuan knew he was his boyfriend.

In the bathroom, Dazai tried to wipe the soy sauce off his shirt. It was nearly impossible. Now his shirt was stained black and damp. Great. He sighed and looked in the mirror, hating what he saw. How could Chuuya ever call him pretty? He was anything but that—so far from it. Then he left the bathroom. He had calmed down, wasn’t crying anymore. But the thought of stepping into the classroom in the middle of a lesson made him incredibly nervous. Everyone would look at him. He just wanted to go home.

He stood in front of the door for about five minutes, hesitating. Sometimes his hand was close to the doorknob, but each time he pulled back. Finally, after mustering all his courage, he opened the door. As expected, everyone stared at him with amusement. Yuan even waved at him.

Head down, Dazai sat at his desk. The entire class looked at him, let least that is what it felt like. He trembled with fear, was determined to disappear after this period. He simply couldn’t take it any longer.

But no, that wasn’t possible—Chuuya was supposed to pick him up from school today. Or… would Dazai just come back to school at the agreed time? Yes, that was the best solution.

When the lesson was finally over, Dazai was the first to leave the classroom. Mr. Tachiki would still talk to Yuan, and it wouldn’t change anything. Same as always.

So Dazai eventually found himself on his way home. Now he just had to kill time. He decided to stop by the hospital. Maybe Mori wasn’t in surgery and had some time for him.

But above all, he was thinking of Chuuya. His boyfriend. Officially.

Chapter Text

“Mori-sensei! I’m together with Chuuya-kun now! Officially!” Dazai said excitedly as he entered Mori’s office. He was beaming from ear to ear.

Somehow, the doctor looked sad. Very different from usual. In a tired voice he said, “I’m very happy for you.”

Dazai stepped closer to Mori and asked, a little hesitantly: “What’s wrong?”

Looking down, Mori seemed dejected. Then he sighed and finally looked back up at Dazai. “I just finished an operation. The little girl didn’t make it. When I gave the parents the news, they broke down in tears. I know it wasn’t my fault, and I’ve been doing this job for a long time, but still—something like that hurts every single time.”

“Don’t be sad.” Dazai patted the other’s head.

“I’m doing my best.” Mori forced a smile, then put an arm around the boy’s waist and pulled him closer. “Can you comfort me?”

Dazai nodded energetically. “Of course! I don’t want you to feel bad.” It was true. After all, Mori had always been there for him too. Many times the boy had cried in this man’s arms. Now it was Dazai’s turn.

Mori pulled the boy even closer, who understood, sat on the doctor's, facing him.

„You’re so beautiful. Just looking at you alone makes me feel better.“ Mori whispered. Dazai, who still wasn’t used to compliments and didn’t really know how to handle them, gently stroked Mori’s hair. 

Mori let out a shaky breath. He looked like he was in pain and Dazai asked: „Are you hurting?“ He was a little confused. 

„No, don’t worry.“ Mori buried his head in Dazai’s chest, who felt something hard between his legs now. Was this? No, there was no way! Mori was with his mother and they were happily dating. It was probably just his wallet or something like that. 

Then Mori looked at Dazai again. Suddenly he grabbed the boy's neck, pulled him even closer and kissed him. Dazai didn’t move his lips. He was shocked, confused. Why was this happening right now? Mori was his step father. Why was he kissing him? Why? Panic started to spread in Dazai’s stomach. He felt uncomfortable. This wasn’t right. Mori’s lips tasted like cigarettes and gum. What the fuck was going on? 

Their lips parted and Mori said: „Sorry! You just were seducing me. I couldn’t help it.“ 

Seducing? What. The. Fuck? Dazai had done nothing! Mori was the one who had pulled him onto his lap. He was the one who called him beautiful, then just kissed him. 

Suddenly Dazai thought of Chuuya, and the panic inside him grew larger and larger. He felt sick. They had only been together for a single day, and already Dazai had cheated. This was the end. What he had wanted so badly, he had lost in an instant.

“No!” Dazai jumped up. A hand shot to his mouth. With wide eyes he stared at Mori, who was smiling smugly. He was so different from usual! What was this new side of him? Dazai didn’t like this side. Not at all. Sure, Mori was damn attractive, but Dazai was in a relationship. He loved Chuuya and he didn’t want to lose him under any circumstances.

Tears sprang to Dazai’s eyes. “N-now it’s over with Chuuya-kun,” he stammered. “I’m such a bad person.”

The only thing that would help right now would be to cut. Dazai had to punish himself. And he had to punish himself badly.

“Why would it be over with Chuuya-kun?” Mori asked in a strangely naïve tone.

“Shit!” Dazai sobbed. “Because I cheated! W-with you!” Saying it out loud was even worse than just thinking it.

“Hey, calm down first.” Mori stood up, and Dazai instinctively stepped back. Mori raised both hands, as if to say: don’t worry, I won’t touch you. “I was the one who kissed you. Greed overcame me. That was entirely my fault. It wasn’t right. You can tell Chuuya-kun exactly that, yes? Really, I sometimes forget that you’re still so young. You’re very mature for your age. Can you forgive me?”

The doctor’s voice sounded so far away, and Dazai had to grab onto the desk because he felt very dizzy. He tried to think about Mori’s words, but his head just wouldn’t work properly. Damn it! Okay, one thing at a time. Yes, it was true. It had been Mori who kissed him. And Mori also said that Chuuya would understand, and he was always right. Besides, Mori had been sad. Dazai had genuinely wanted to comfort him. No, you couldn’t be mad at him. Right?

Still, the panic was there as Dazai slowly exhaled. “Okay,” was all he said.

Mori looked at him questioningly. “What does that mean? Dazai-kun, you’re completely pale! Are you not feeling well? Oh God, you’re trembling!” He went to his desk and opened a drawer. He took out a lollipop and filled a cup at the water cooler. “Here, this will help you,” he then said to the boy.

Dazai took the water and drank it. Then he put the lollipop in his mouth and noticed how Mori was staring at his lips. Dazai wanted to leave. But he was even more afraid of walking past all the people in the hospital. “But I’m still scared that Chuuya-kun will hate me now.” It turned out the water and the lollipop didn’t help at all.

“Chuuya-kun won’t hate you. Believe me. You’ll just tell him what happened and I’ll personally apologize to him. You bear no guilt whatsoever. We can even tell him together over dinner.”

Well, Dazai didn’t really have another choice. Besides, he was afraid that if he told his boyfriend alone, he wouldn’t be able to get a single word out. That happened often when Dazai was scared. He simply went mute. Not because he wanted to, but because he couldn’t help it. He hated that. “Okay,” Dazai finally said, wiping the tears from his eyes.

“All right. Then I’ll come to dinner tonight. But your mother mustn’t find out. I don’t want to lose her either. In that sense, we’re in a very similar situation.”

“What if Mama doesn’t leave?” Dazai asked, sounding slightly unconvinced. Slowly the panic attack ebbed away. Maybe it really was the lollipop. Thank goodness!

“I’ll send her to the conbini to pick up something specific if I have to,” Mori smiled. “We’ll handle this together and keep both our relationships. I guarantee you that.” He glanced at his wristwatch. “Oh. I have to get back to work. I’ll see you this evening then, and I’ll apologize again. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Mori was so kind. He seemed genuinely sorry. Dazai hugged the doctor tightly. All the discomfort he had just felt had vanished. That hadn’t been him, it had been the panic. “See you later!” Dazai left the room.

As he left the hospital, he thought the whole thing through again. One thing was certain: Dazai had to be more careful. Hold himself back more. He couldn’t just go around seducing people. Especially now that he was in a relationship! But how do you hold yourself back? Dazai didn’t understand any of it.

He decided to go home and lounge around there. Maybe he’d have something to drink to calm his nerves. Yes, that would be best. Only hopefully Hinata wouldn’t be home. Hopefully she was out. Otherwise she might start asking questions.

Why are you home so early?
What’s that on your school uniform?

He could already hear her getting angry.

Now I have to wash that crap! Can’t you just take better care of yourself? You always make it so damn hard for me!

And if Dazai tried to talk about the bullying incident, tried to explain himself, she would say: That’s your fault! No wonder the other kids don’t like you! You’re super weird. Just be more normal and they’ll leave you alone. How hard can that be?

Just the thought of that conversation brought tears to Dazai’s eyes. Why did this have to happen so often? It was like the others said; he was a crybaby. He was so embarrassing! Not even girls cried as much as he did. And boys certainly didn’t! Boys never cry!

That Dazai had a very toxic image of masculinity, of course, he wasn’t aware of. He’d never had positive male role models. His father wasn’t there, his teachers were all ignorant, and the boys at school… well, you already know about that. Maybe Mori knew why Dazai had to cry so often. A doctor knows the causes of something like that, right?

Arriving home, Dazai first listened to see if he could hear Hinata. It was dead quiet. Thank goodness! He slipped into his house slippers and went to his mother’s wine stash. But all the bottles were sealed. In the fridge there was a half-full bottle of red wine, and Dazai poured himself a generous glass. He took it to his room and set it next to his bed. Then he let himself fall onto his mattress and closed his eyes.

The doorbell rang, and Dazai knew it had to be Chuuya. He was drunk. Once he started drinking, he couldn’t stop. In that respect he was like his mother. It was always the same. He hated his drunk self even more than his sober self. But he couldn’t stop. It was instinct to reach for the bottle whenever he felt bad about something.

So Dazai opened the door, and shortly afterward Chuuya stood there before him. Dazai, though drunk, was terribly nervous. There was a chance Chuuya would leave him when he found out the truth. The thought of it made him feel horribly sick.

“Hey,” Dazai said shyly. But when he looked into Chuuya’s eyes, he noticed that he had a black eye. When had that happened? Who had done that? Maybe today really wasn’t such a good time to tell him what had happened at the hospital. “What…?” Dazai asked, pointing at the other’s face. “What happened?”

Chuuya stayed silent for a moment, as if weighing whether or not to tell the truth. Then: “I had trouble at home. But don’t worry, it’s fine.” But it didn’t look fine at all. Had it been his brother or his father? Dazai didn’t know either of them, so both were possible. “Are you really okay?” he asked. Dazai knew what it was like to be hit. When Hinata got really angry, she did it too. But she always used the flat of her hand. Never her fist. Probably Dazai should be thankful for that. But to be honest, no child should ever have to be thankful for something like that. No child deserved to be beaten by their parents.

“Don’t worry.” Chuuya gave Dazai a quick kiss. Then he took off his shoes and entered the apartment. They sat down on the couch and stayed quiet. The atmosphere was different than usual. Somehow strange. Chuuya seemed more withdrawn than normal.

“How was school?” he asked eventually.

“Uhh… same as always,” Dazai replied. Before he could go into more detail, they heard the key in the front door. It was Hinata. And she was crying. Something must have happened. Had she been at work? Dazai stood up and went to her, even though he knew it was probably better to leave her alone. But he couldn’t just do nothing.

“What’s wrong, Mommy?” he asked.

“You wouldn’t understand.” She threw her handbag on the floor, kicked off her high heels, and disappeared into her bedroom. Something was really wrong today. Things just kept happening one after another.

Dazai sat back down next to Chuuya. He turned on the TV because he didn’t know what else to say, and they sat there side by side, neither paying attention to the cooking show on the screen, both lost in their own thoughts. When the doorbell rang again, this time it was Mori. Dazai opened the door for him, and Mori was wearing a suit, a bouquet of roses in his hand.

“Hello,” he said kindly, smiling.

“Hello,” Dazai replied. “I think Mama’s sad. She’s in her room.”

“Oh. I see. I’ll go check on her. You two go ahead and order some food. Of course, I’ll pay.”

Dazai nodded and returned to the couch beside Chuuya while Mori disappeared into his mother’s bedroom.

“What do you feel like eating?” Dazai asked.

“How about pizza?” Chuuya suggested, so Dazai called Domino’s and ordered four pizzas. That was probably too much, but oh well.

“So,” Mori was back in the living room. “Your mother won’t be eating with us.”

“What’s wrong with her?” Dazai asked.

“That’s complicated. But she needs to be alone.” The whole thing seemed to weigh on him as well. What could have happened? She must have been at work. Maybe someone had been mean to her. But it was much worse than that. Much, much worse.

When they sat down at the table, the pizzas in front of them, Mori cleared his throat. “Chuuya-kun. I have to tell you something. I made a… mistake.”

Chuuya looked up from his pizza. When Mori had asked him what had happened to his face, he had simply answered that he had walked into a door. That was obviously a lie, but Mori hadn’t pressed the issue.

“I don’t know what came over me. I was very stressed about work. I was a little sad, I must admit. And then I kissed Dazai-kun. I was completely out of line. Of course, he didn’t return the kiss. He didn’t want it at all. It was entirely my fault. My mistake. Please forgive me and don’t hold it against Dazai-kun, okay?”

Dazai’s face turned completely red. Chuuya looked utterly confused. He wondered why the hell Mori had even thought about kissing his boyfriend. He was practically like a stepfather to Dazai. That was absolutely bizarre. Of course, Chuuya was also angry. Nobody but him had the right to kiss Dazai like that. He said nothing.

“Really, Dazai-kun didn’t want it,” Mori said.

“I believe that. But I…I still don’t understand.”

“You don’t need to. It would just be nice if you could forgive me for this mistake. Of course, I will also confess it to Hinata-chan. I just really hope she won’t leave me over it. But today is definitely not the right moment to tell her.”

Hinata would completely lose it! An adult man had kissed her son. And not just any man—her actual boyfriend. There was no way she would forgive him. How would that even turn out?

“Okay,” Chuuya said simply. Honestly, he didn’t know if he could really let Mori off the hook for this. It was just so strange!

Let’s be honest: why would a grown-ass man kiss a teenager? Was Mori perhaps into kids? But that would be a crime! He had always seemed like a normal guy. A really nice guy, actually. But this incident cast him in a completely different light. It was uncomfortable, really. What were his intentions? Would he have gone further if Dazai had let him?

Chuuya lost his appetite and put down the half-eaten slice of pizza in front of him. Dazai didn’t seem able to eat another bite either.

“You two can go if you want. I’ll check on Hinata-chan again,” Mori offered. For him, the situation was certainly uncomfortable too. But that was no excuse for what he had done.

So Dazai and Chuuya left to his room, sat on his bed.

“Why would Mori-sensei do that? I just don’t get it,” Chuuya wondered aloud.

Dazai blushed again and looked away. “I…uh…I don’t know either. But I jumped up right away. Honestly, I was so scared you’d leave me. Thank you for not being mad at me.”

Chuuya took the other’s hand and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Of course I’m not mad at you! You’re the victim here. None of this is your fault. But tell me, has Mori-sensei ever done something like this before?”

“Now that I think about it…well, he does give me a lot of compliments. But I always just felt happy about them.”

“You need to be careful, Dazai-kun. People like that are dangerous. I really don’t feel comfortable with the thought of you being alone somewhere with the sensei. I never would’ve thought he’d be like this.”

“Well, he was really sad today. He couldn’t save a patient’s life. The little girl died. I think Mori-sensei was just confused. I don’t think he meant to do it.”

Chuuya looked a little shocked. “Of course he meant to do it! You can’t be so lenient with him.”

“But…I like the sensei,” Dazai said, sounding a little downcast. Frustrated.

Then Chuuya sighed. “Alright. But please just take care of yourself, okay?”

“I will.”

The two of them shared a brief kiss. Eventually, they fell asleep next to each other, curled up together. When Chuuya woke up, it was eleven at night. Of course, he would have preferred to stay, but that wasn’t possible today. He slipped out of the room without waking his boyfriend and made his way home through the cold night air.

The next morning—it was Friday—Chuuya and Dazai walked hand in hand across the school grounds.

“Well, well, look at this!” Tachihara appeared in front of them. “What do you call that now? Gay? No, Dazai-chan’s a girl.” He put on a mock thoughtful expression.

“Leave us alone, man,” Chuuya said. But Tachihara clearly had no such intentions.

“Are you sure you want to be seen with him like that? You still have a chance to avoid ruining your reputation completely.” He grinned provocatively.

“Shut the hell up!” Chuuya could feel his anger rising. He tried to keep his cool, but it was damn hard.

“If I were you, I’d really think twice about it. I mean, Dazai-chan’s the daughter of a whore. Do you really want to walk around holding hands with something like that? Better wash your hands! Or do you want to get dirty?”

That’s it! Chuuya thought. “Leave us the fuck alone, you bastard!”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll smash your ugly face in!” Chuuya threatened.

“Please don’t,” Dazai whispered. Under no circumstances could this escalate. Chuuya had only just been released from his suspension. Dazai didn’t want to go to school  without him anymore.

“If I were you, I’d be more careful. Or do you want to get expelled completely?” Tachihara stepped closer. He was enjoying this too much, knowing Chuuya practically couldn’t fight back. “Why’s your school uniform so dirty?” He scrutinized Dazai.

“Uh…” the brunette stammered. He had tried to rub the sauce stain out with his hand, water and sop, but hadn’t been very successful. They didn’t have a washing machine at home, and Hinata avoided the laundromat as much as possible to save money.

“What, you don’t even have a washing machine? That’s disgusting! But that explains why you’re always so filthy,” Tachihara sneered.

“Shut your mouth!” Chuuya hissed. Then he dragged Dazai into the school building. Luckily, Tachihara left them alone after that.

The school day passed slowly, and today Chuuya and Dazai only had one class together—art. But Dazai seemed to be dissociating constantly. He just stared blankly ahead and didn’t answer when spoken to. It hurt to see him like that. Chuuya had never seen it this intense before. What could have triggered it?

As they stood at the bus stop after school, Chuuya suggested: “Let’s go to my place. I have a washing machine. We can wash your uniform there, how about it?”

“That would be nice.” Dazai forced a smile. Then the bus came, and they sat silently next to each other. Dazai rested his head on the other’s shoulder. They got off and walked to Chuuya’s house.

“I think my brother and my father aren’t home,” Chuuya said as he unlocked the door.

But then Verlaine appeared before them, wearing an apron. Great. “Hello, you two!”

“This is Dazai-kun. He’s…my boyfriend,” Chuuya said honestly. Soon enough he would regret telling the truth. 

“Nice to meet you,” Verlaine smiled.

“Nice to meet you too,” Dazai replied, bowing.

“I cooked. Unlike my brother, I actually enjoy doing that. Would you two like to eat with me?” Verlaine asked.

Chuuya was about to decline, but then he saw Dazai’s eyes sparkle. Right—at home, the boy never got proper meals. His mother didn’t even make him bento for school. So whenever he had the chance to eat something decent, Dazai jumped at it. That is, unless he was in one of those moods where he hated his body so much that he forbade himself from eating.

“I made ramen with gyoza and pork,” Verlaine explained as the two followed him into the kitchen. Shortly afterward, they were seated at the table, each with a steaming bowl of ramen in front of them.

“Did you guys meet at school?” Verlaine asked.

“Yes, we did,” Chuuya answered curtly.

“Come on, I want more details! This is your first relationship, after all. Or is there something else you’re hiding from me again?”

Chuuya rolled his eyes. “We sat next to each other on the bus. On my first day at that school. Dazai-kun’s the only normal one. Everyone else there is crazy.”

“What do you mean by crazy?”

“They’re just all nuts.”

Verlaine turned to Dazai: “And do you already know what you want to be one day?”

Dazai thought for a moment, then shook his head. “Unfortunately not.”

“Then you’re just like my brother. He doesn’t have a clue what he wants to do either. Well, that’s assuming he even makes it through school,” Verlaine said.

Chuuya was wolfing down his food. It was as if he wanted to be finished with the meal as quickly as possible.

“And why did you come here?” Verlaine was extremely talkative.

“Am I not allowed to bring someone home? I live here too, even if you’d all rather I didn’t.” Chuuya’s irritation was obvious.

“Relax! It’s not proper to be so snappy with your older brother.”

Chuuya stood up. “Come on, Dazai-kun,” he said.

Somewhat overwhelmed by the situation, Dazai stood up as well. “Thank you for the meal. It was very delicious,” he said before the two disappeared from the kitchen.

“I’ll get you something to wear, okay?” Chuuya said as they entered his room. He went to his closet and pulled out an old pair of pleated pants that had belonged to Verlaine. They would fit Dazai. Then he grabbed an oversized sweatshirt, also from Verlaine, and handed both to Dazai. Their father hardly ever bought Chuuya new clothes. Ninety percent of what he wore had been passed down from his older brother. Chuuya didn’t particularly like wearing those things, but he had no choice.

While they were changing, Chuuya pretended to be looking for something at his desk. He didn’t want Dazai to feel uncomfortable because of him. It wasn’t polite to stare when someone was changing. Then Chuuya put Dazai’s clothes into the washing machine and came back.

“Should we go outside until it’s done?” he asked.

“Sure,” Dazai replied, and they kissed.

They went to the playground next door. Sitting on the swings, they talked.

“I really would’ve liked to deck Tachihara-kun today. Too bad I couldn’t,” Chuuya said.

“I’m sorry that now they’re making fun of you too. I’d understand if you didn’t want to be with me anymore because of it. They’re all so mean.”

“What nonsense are you talking about? I’d never leave you! Especially not over something like that. We have each other, and that’s all that matters. We’ll get through school together. This is the last year of middle school. High school will be better, I’m sure of it. Maybe we’ll even find a few friends there.”

“Thanks,” was all Dazai said.

“And listen, those comments don’t bother me at all. Stuff like that bounces right off me. The only problem is, I get aggressive too quickly. I really need to keep myself in check.”

“You can do it,” Dazai encouraged him.

“Do you even know what’s going on with your mother?”

“No. I haven’t seen her since yesterday either. But Mori-sensei apparently spent the night with her. This morning he made scrambled eggs with bacon. I got some, and we ate together. He also told me again to pass on his apology to you.”

“I don’t know, I still think that’s weird. Come on, we should probably put your laundry in the dryer now.”

They got up and went back to the apartment. As they were taking off their shoes, Chuuya’s father came out of the kitchen. He had a beer in his hand and eyed the two of them. “Who’s this?” he asked.

“This is Dazai-kun,” Chuuya replied, carefully leaving out the fact that the two were together. He knew his father too well.

“Then tell Dazai-kun to go home now.”

“Why’s that?” Something felt wrong. Chuuya could sense it.

“Because I need to talk to you. Verlaine-kun told me what’s going on.” His father was furious. Extremely furious. Why the hell had Verlaine told him? He knew how Takumi was. Chuuya felt his heartbeat start to race— in the worst way possible.

Dazai slipped his shoes back on, then bowed. “It was nice to meet you.” When he looked into Chuuya’s eyes, he saw panic. The redhead looked like he had seen a ghost. But Dazai had to leave. That man had explicitly said so.

As the door shut, Takumi grabbed his son by the wrist. “What the hell were you thinking?” he screamed at him. “You think you can humiliate me like this? You ungrateful little brat! Do you even know how wrong this is? Do you know what you’re doing to me?”

Chuuya knew what was coming, so he closed his eyes. He tried to imagine being somewhere else, but today it just wouldn’t work. Fuck. Takumi struck him with his fist. The boy staggered back. When he tried to lift his arms to shield his face, his father yanked them down. “Be a man and take your beating!” He struck again, even harder this time, and Chuuya went down. Tears welled up in his eyes as the blows rained down on him. His father sat on top of him, smashing his fists into Chuuya’s face while yelling at him:
“You damn freak! Why can’t you be like your brother? Why are you so messed up? I wish I had a different son!”

Chuuya lay there, his face burning with pain. His nose was already bleeding. It would take a long time for these bruises and wounds to heal. And he already had a black eye.

Takumi got up and kicked Chuuya, who was curled up on his side. “Please stop!” he whimpered.

“Don’t be such a pussy! Men don’t cry!” his father screamed.

But then Verlaine appeared. He grabbed Takumi and held him back. “That’s enough!” Verlaine said. “He’s already on the ground.”

Why only now? Why was Verlaine never there in time to help his brother? He must have heard their fight. The neighbors probably heard it too, with how loud Takumi had been yelling.

Takumi snorted in rage, then turned around, grabbed the beer bottle from the shelf in the hallway, and disappeared into the living room.

“Why didn’t you help me?” Chuuya sobbed. He couldn’t keep up the tough act in that moment, and tears streamed down his aching cheeks. “Why did you tell Father?”

“We’re a family. In a family, you share things like that,” Verlaine replied, as casually as if Chuuya hadn’t just been beaten half to death.

“You’re not my family,” Chuuya whispered, struggling to push himself upright. Everything hurt so damn much! It took him a while before he managed to get to his feet. He limped toward the entrance.

“Where are you going?” Verlaine asked a bit too loudly.

No wonder Takumi was standing in the hallway a second later. He had swapped the beer for a bottle of whiskey.
“What do you think you’re doing? You’re staying right here!” the man shouted.

While trying to stop crying, Chuuya pulled his shoes on. It was very painful.

“I asked you something, you piece of shit!” Takumi stepped toward his son and brandished the whiskey bottle threateningly.

“Stop, or I’ll call child protective services,” Chuuya said weakly.

“You little shit!” Takumi was still furious. Verlaine watched the whole scene amused, arms folded and back against the wall. Chuuya left the apartment and tried to get out of the building as fast as he could. Once outside he broke down in tears again. He hated his father so much. He hated Verlaine so much. What had he done to deserve these two cold people as a family? His father often lashed out, had anger problems. But it hadn’t been this bad in a long time.

Chuuya set off for Dazai’s apartment building. He had to get to his boyfriend. That was the only thing that would help him now. He limped along, making slow progress, but finally stood in front of Dazai’s house. He wiped the tears from his face. He had managed to stop crying. He didn’t want to seem weak in front of Dazai. Yes, Chuuya also had a messed-up idea of masculinity. But he owed that to his father. The man kept drilling into him how a guy had to be strong—never show weakness and so on.

The door opened and Chuuya took the elevator. He didn’t know how bad he looked. It was pretty awful.

Mori opened the door and looked at the boy in shock. “Chuuya-kun, what happened to you?”

“Can I stay the night here, please?” the redhead asked, exhausted.

“Come on, I’ll tend to your wounds.” Mori took Chuuya’s hand; the boy was too weak to protest. He sat on the couch while Mori searched for the first-aid kit and soon found it.

“What happened?” Mori asked, examining the boy’s face.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Chuuya whispered, eyes lowered.

Then Dazai appeared beside them. “No! What happened? Oh my God!” Dazai was completely worried. “What happened?”

“I’ll tell you later,” Chuuya answered. He didn’t want Mori to know what had happened to him. It embarrassed him deeply.

“Chuuya-kun,” the doctor’s voice was gentle. “Did this happen at home? Please, you must be honest now.”

The redhead only nodded.

“Who did this?” Dazai asked again, still shocked.

When Chuuya didn’t answer, Mori spoke again. “I think we should call the police. You’re lucky your nose isn’t broken, but the injuries are pretty bad. As a doctor I see this immediately. If you’re being abused at home, we have to call the police.”

“Not the police!” Chuuya begged desperately. “Please…”

“But I cannot reconcile doing nothing with myself. I just can’t,” Mori explained, as he began taking care of the boy’s wounds.

“It’s okay. We don’t have to call the police. Really.” Chuuya tried again. However, he didn’t sound very convincing. But it was also understandable that Mori wanted to involve the authorities. Any normal person would think the same. But Chuuya also knew something much worse would happen if the cops stood in front of his father’s door.

“Was that your father?” Mori wanted to know. He was really kind; he truly worried. You had to give him that.

Chuuya only nodded.

“Look, I feel obligated to contact the police,” Mori said, finishing up and sighing. “Do you understand that?”

Another nod. Chuuya had no chance. It would come as it would. And in a way, it always did.

Chapter Text

It was in vain. They were going to involve the police. Chuuya couldn’t do anything about it. Who knew, maybe at least he wouldn’t have to go back home. Back to that place where they made him feel like he was worthless. And what Verlaine had said wasn’t true in any way. This had nothing to do with family anymore. After all, in a family you protected each other, right? You wouldn’t want your brother to get hurt. But to Chuuya it felt like Verlaine enjoyed seeing him this way. As if it reminded him that he was better than his younger brother. Wasn’t it enough for him that he was already, factually, the better one? Why did he have to keep rubbing salt in this damn wound?

The disinfectant stung on Chuuya’s wounds, burning his face. He looked down at his hands while Mori, in the room next door, was on the phone with the police.

Dazai didn’t seem to quite know how to handle the situation. He just sat there, one arm draped around his boyfriend’s shoulders. They sat silently next to each other. They had been doing that often lately. But Chuuya felt paralyzed. He knew he wasn’t capable of expressing himself right now. Besides, he had to save his energy for speaking with the police. Since their move, the authorities hadn’t shown up again. That was going to change now. And they hadn’t moved without reason. Not at all.

“You can stay with us,” Dazai finally said. “You don’t have to go home if you… don’t want to.”

Of course, Chuuya wanted to thank him. But he just couldn’t. He felt so distanced from everything, so far away. As if this wasn’t his life, but a movie he was watching—one he had no control over.

“It’s okay, you don’t have to answer,” Dazai whispered and laid his head on Chuuya’s shoulder. For the first time in a long time, he felt that someone genuinely cared about how he was doing, about what kept happening at his home. If only he could say it out loud.

Mori came back. “So, I spoke to a very nice police officer. They’re coming by now to ask a few questions. Is that alright?”

Chuuya only gave a weak nod.

Shortly after, the doorbell rang, and even sooner after that, two police officers stood before Chuuya. One was a young man, the other a middle-aged woman. She wore her black hair in a bun. They asked Mori and Dazai to leave the room so they could speak to Chuuya alone. He would have preferred to run away. But that was no longer possible.

“Would you like to tell us what happened?” the woman asked.

Chuuya swallowed. Now he really had to start speaking again. His voice sounded so far away. Not like his own.
“My father got angry.”

The policeman wrote something down on a notepad. “And why did he get angry?”

For a moment, Chuuya hesitated. Then: “Because I have a boyfriend. But I didn’t tell him on purpose, because I knew he would react like this. My brother told him.”

“Does your father often hit you?” the woman wanted to know.

“Yes. But it hadn’t been… this bad in a long time. He often hits me. But… today it was really bad. He had a glass bottle in his hand, and if my brother hadn’t stopped him, he probably would have come at me with it.”

The more Chuuya spoke, the easier it became for him to slowly get used to the foreign sound of his own voice again.

The policeman frowned and looked up from his notes:
“This seems like a very serious matter. Does your father use substances?”

“He’s an alcoholic. When he drinks, it always gets especially… bad.”
‘Bad’ seemed like the only word Chuuya could use to describe all of this. When it came to these things, he wasn’t particularly eloquent.

In the other room, Mori and Dazai were sitting on the floor.

“Why does Chuuya-kun’s father do something like that?” Dazai asked gloomily. He just couldn’t understand it. He was terribly worried. How many times had something like this already happened before? After all, they hadn’t known each other for very long yet. Now he understood why Chuuya didn’t like being at home.

“It’s complicated, you know,” Mori replied. “Adults sometimes do terrible things. It’s very important that we’re here for Chuuya-kun right now. I wouldn’t feel comfortable letting him go home. The child protective services will surely be contacted. I’ll speak with your mother.”

“How’s Mom doing?” Dazai asked a bit hesitantly. He still didn’t understand what had happened, why she was so sad.

Mori sighed. He seemed to think for a moment about how best to phrase what came next.
“All right. I won’t go into detail, but you know what your mother does for work, don’t you?”

“I think so,” Dazai replied. He wasn’t a hundred percent sure, but he believed his mother slept with men for money. He had often seen strange men show up here. He had often overheard far too much. Things he should never have had to hear. He didn’t understand why she didn’t just get a normal job. Something that wasn’t so risky. Of course, he never brought such things up. In some way, he felt he had no right to.

“It’s like this… your mother was with a client, and he did things to her against her will.”
The whole matter seemed to affect Mori deeply. His voice didn’t sound as positive and easygoing as usual. But what exactly did he mean by that? Dazai could only guess, and his stomach dropped. Even though Hinata was often mean to him, the boy sincerely only wanted the best for his mother. He didn’t want anyone to hurt her.

Dazai said nothing, just stared down. He couldn’t find the words, so Mori went on:
“I really care about your mother. I want to build a future with her, you know. I told her I’ll support you financially. I don’t want her to be forced to put herself in danger. She doesn’t want the authorities to get involved, since what she’s doing is illegal. But please, don’t worry too much. We adults will handle it. You just focus on your boyfriend, alright?”

So that was why Hinata was so sad. How could anyone do that to another person? Dazai bit his lower lip. He didn’t want to cry again. He already cried far too often, in his own opinion.
“I don’t want Mom to suffer,” he said in a trembling voice.

“She’ll surely feel better soon. We went to the doctor, and luckily nothing happened. In the sense that… well, anyway.”
Mori seemed as if he had wanted to add something more but then apparently decided against it.

Why did this world have to be so unfair? Whenever something good happened, it always seemed to be followed by something bad. First, what had happened with his mother, and now this with Chuuya. Oh man. At least Mori was there to support them. Without him, everything would probably be completely out of control. Luckily, for whatever reason, he chose to support this dysfunctional family. Sure, he was in love with Hinata. And for the person you love, you do everything. Dazai knew that by now.

Dazai rubbed his eyes. No, he wouldn’t cry. Definitely not.

Of course, Mori noticed how much all of this was weighing on the boy. He gently stroked Dazai’s knee.
“Hey, it’ll be alright. Please don’t worry. We’ll sort this out.”

“Okay,” Dazai said quietly. He couldn’t manage more than that in this moment.

“We’ll have to involve child protective services. They’ll be able to assess what’s best. They’ll talk to your father. Alright?” said the police woman to Chuuya. 

“Yes,” the kid replied simply.

“Perhaps they’ll decide to place you in a group home or with a foster family. We’d also like to speak again with your friend’s father,” added the policeman.

But he’s not Dazai’s father, Chuuya thought. Whatever. As long as he didn’t have to go back home. Still, he didn’t want to end up in another foster family either. Those people only took you in for the money they received. Chuuya had had nothing but bad experiences with such people so far.

So Mori spoke with the officers for a while longer. He explained that he would take care of Chuuya until a solution could be found. The police seemed to consider him a trustworthy person and thought that was a good idea. Chuuya still didn’t trust Mori. He couldn’t understand what this man’s motives were. Something wasn’t right—that was what his gut told him. But he seemed to be the only one who thought so.

When the police finally left the apartment, after having been there for two whole hours, it was already dark outside. Chuuya would have preferred to be alone now. It was all too much for him, and his head hurt. So he decided to say he was tired, so he could rest and be by himself. Of course, the other two accepted that, and so Chuuya lay down in Dazai’s bed. Not even tears came anymore. He didn’t feel any less miserable because of it. Maybe sleep would deliver him from his suffering. But he just lay there awake, haunted by negative thoughts.

Mori and Dazai sat at the dining table, eating dinner. The doctor had cooked spaghetti Bolognese. It tasted heavenly. Hinata still hadn’t come out of her room.

“So, how long until you have holidays?” Mori asked, taking a sip of wine.

“I think it’ll be a while,” Dazai replied. After all, the school year had only started not too long ago.

“I see. You know, I think we all deserve a break. I thought we could use a little vacation. For example, in Hokkaido. But we could also go abroad.”

That actually sounded very tempting. Dazai and his mother never went on vacation. They absolutely didn’t have enough money for that. Dazai couldn’t even remember ever being outside Yokohama. When he was little, they sometimes went on day trips to Tokyo. But that had been a long time ago.

Either way, it would be a while until they had another school break. But Mori had a solution for that too. Yes, no matter what it was, he always had a solution ready.
“Just between us: I’m not a doctor for nothing. I could write you and Chuuya sick notes.” He leaned forward slightly and lowered his voice. His eyes sparkled. He really seemed to want to go on vacation.

“Really?” asked Dazai. Wasn’t that a violation of the rules? But well, if no one found out, nothing could happen. His teachers probably wouldn’t care anyway if Dazai missed school. They barely cared about anything at all. It would be truly amazing to go on a trip. And then even abroad? That would be too good to be true.

“If this stays between us, then I can do it,” Mori smiled.

But Dazai immediately thought of his boyfriend again. Chuuya had gone to bed very early, and Dazai was worried about him. “I’m scared that Chuuya-kun isn’t doing well right now,” he said.

“That’s very understandable. But we’ve done everything one can do in such a situation. Tomorrow he’ll surely feel better. Until then, we should give him some time to himself. Some people want to be alone after such a traumatic experience,” Mori explained.

Dazai mumbled something unintelligible. He felt bad because he wasn’t with Chuuya right now. But if what Mori said was true, then maybe it really was better to give Chuuya some space. If only Dazai could somehow help him. “I’m not tired yet,” Dazai said. It was true. So much was going on in his head. He certainly wouldn’t be able to sleep until very late tonight. Luckily, it was the weekend.

Mori thought for a moment, then said: “How about we watch a movie? I’ll ask your mother if she wants to come out of her room. She says she doesn’t have an appetite, but she really needs to eat something.”

That sounded good. Dazai nodded. Some distraction in the form of a movie couldn’t hurt. It was probably the best option.

The boy heard muffled voices while he finished the portion of noodles in front of him.

“Babe, you really need to eat something.” It was Mori. “I know you feel like you can’t, but it’s important.”

“I…I can’t.” Hinata’s voice sounded weak. There was no energy in it at all.

“Please, do it for me. Let’s watch a movie with Dazai-kun. It’ll do you good.”

There was silence for a moment, and Dazai stood up to wash his plate. To his surprise, Mori returned holding his mother’s hand. Hinata had deep dark circles under her eyes, and her eyes were glassy. She looked so terribly sad. It had been a long time since Dazai had seen her like this.

Mori grabbed the empty plate from the table. He must have set a place for Hinata too. Now he prepared a portion of noodles on the plate while Hinata watched him. Her gaze was empty, and it felt strange to observe her like that.

Finally, they sat down on the couch. Mori wrapped an arm around Hinata, and she nestled against his chest.

“What movie would you like to watch?” Mori asked gently.

Dazai had overheard his classmates talking about a movie. It was about space, and he had listened while they raved about it. He had planned to watch it too. One girl had even said it was the best movie she had ever seen.

“I don’t know what the movie’s called, but it’s about space, and they say it’s really good,” Dazai said.

“You must mean Interstellar.” Wow, Mori really knew his stuff.

“Yes, that’s the one I mean.”

Mori pressed the button on the remote and logged into Netflix. Hinata didn’t own any streaming services. They could only watch the public TV channels.

Dazai hesitated for a moment when the title Interstellar appeared on the screen and the movie began. Then he, too, snuggled up against Mori. This was something the boy had always wished for—a movie night with his family. He had never had that before, and now he felt comfortable. Safe and secure. And he was glad his mother had come out of her bedroom. That had to be a good sign.

The film really was as good as everyone had said. It was truly exciting, and Dazai watched with rapt attention. He rarely watched movies, so this was something special, and he felt deeply absorbed in it. When the credits rolled, Dazai sat up and looked at Mori. “That was so interesting.”

Mori smiled. “It’s not for nothing that it’s one of the best films of all time. But now it’s late. So please, go to bed.”

Dazai nodded. Yes, by now he had grown tired as well. Was Chuuya already asleep? Surely. So Dazai stood up and wished the two adults good night. Hinata said nothing, but Mori wished him sweet dreams. In his room, Dazai looked over at Chuuya, who was lying on his side. It was dark, only the moonlight shining through the window. That was why one couldn’t see that Chuuya’s eyes were open and tearstained. Of course he hadn’t been able to sleep.

So Dazai tried his best to be as quiet as possible. He changed into his pajamas, crawled into bed, and kissed Chuuya on the head, who pretended to be asleep. Tomorrow the world would surely look different again. Absolutely.

—

The next morning, everyone slept in. After all, it was Saturday. When Dazai woke up, it was ten o’clock. He let his boyfriend sleep a little longer and went into the kitchen. Hinata and Mori were sitting at the kitchen table having breakfast. It smelled of coffee and scrambled eggs with onions. A variety of pastries lay on the table. Mori must have picked them up from the bakery. Since the doctor had been spending so much time with Hinata, so much had changed. They ate good food, daily life had gained structure, and they no longer had to count every single coin. It must have been fate that Mori had approached Dazai in the park that one autumn day.

Hinata also looked much better. The dark circles under her eyes were still there, but not as deep as yesterday. She had tied her hair up and changed clothes. She wore a dark red blouse and a black skirt. It was a good sign that she had gotten ready.

“Good morning,” said Dazai as he sat down.

“Good morning. Did you sleep well?” Mori asked.

Dazai took a croissant and nodded.

“Chuuya-kun’s still sleeping?”

“Yes. I didn’t want to wake him.”

The boy poured himself some orange juice. A few weeks ago, he never would have imagined his life could look like this. He was sitting at a proper breakfast table together with his mother and her steady boyfriend. Even though the surrounding circumstances weren’t the best, life seemed to be treating them kindly.

“I told Hina-chan about my idea of going on a trip,” said Mori, leaning back and taking a sip of his coffee. “She says it’s a good idea.”

The only person Hinata seemed able to talk to was her boyfriend. But at least she was talking to him. Without Mori, she would probably be dealing with this whole thing in a completely different way. She’d be drinking herself into unconsciousness. Maybe even taking her frustration out on her son.

“I’ll be able to take some time off next month. We could go away for a week. That wouldn’t be too noticeable at school, and you wouldn’t miss too much.”

“Does that mean Chuuya-kun can come with us?” Dazai asked excitedly.

“Of course! He’s part of the family.”

Family. What Dazai had wanted so badly, he now had. What had he ever done to deserve all this?

“Where are we going?” Dazai wanted to know.

“I was thinking of Europe. In southern Italy, it’s still warm this time of year,” the doctor explained.

“Have you ever been to Italy?” Europe sounded so surreal. Never would Dazai have thought that one day he would cross the ocean to see the other side of the world.

Mori nodded. “I’ve been there a few times. It’s really beautiful, and the food is delicious. It’s also very safe there, so you and Chuuya-kun could do a lot on your own. Don’t worry, we adults won’t bore you. It’s enough for us if we all go out to eat together once or twice. Right, Hina-chan?”

Hinata blinked. She formed a silent yes with her lips, but no sound came out. Maybe she was hoarse. Of course, Dazai didn’t know it was because she had screamed in vain for help. No one had heard her. And when that man pressed a pillow over her head, it had become impossible to keep calling out for help or to beg him to stop. It would take some time before she could sleep with Mori again. But she wasn’t afraid of him, even though he was a man. Quite the opposite. She needed him and his closeness. He was the person she could entrust with everything. She had never had someone like that before.

After breakfast, Dazai decided to check on his boyfriend. Maybe they could go for a walk. But Chuuya still seemed to be asleep. He must have been really tired. Dazai glanced at his calendar. Right, soon it would be time for the next testosterone shot. Just the thought made his heart beat faster. Mori had said that after the second shot, the first real changes would begin. Dazai longed for that so much. Finally, someone was helping him become the person he truly was.

He knelt down in front of Chuuya and stroked his hair.

“Hey,” Dazai whispered.

Chuuya opened one eye and looked at the other. Then he closed it again.

“Do you want something to eat?” the brunette asked. “There’s a delicious breakfast, and we have good news.”

Chuuya exhaled a little shakily. Then: “I’m not hungry. But thank you.” His voice sounded unbearably dejected.

Dazai wanted to help him, but he simply didn’t know how. “Is there anything I can do for you?” he asked.

“No. But thank you.” Chuuya seemed to want to keep lying there.

Dazai kept stroking his head and stayed sitting beside him. He was worried. Chuuya was so different from usual. It was as if he had been replaced. How long would he stay like this?

Dazai had those days too, when he didn’t want to get out of bed. Sometimes he would just lie there. He knew what that was like. Or at least he thought he did. Of course, he didn’t hold it against his boyfriend. He would be there for him. It would get better soon. Right?

That Mori would one day find himself in such a situation surprised even him. He had never been the type for relationships. That was simply too exhausting for him. But now he was actually together with a woman. Sure, she was attractive, but let’s just say she wasn’t exactly Mori’s type. Luckily, he was a master at hiding that. He wanted Dazai. Not his mother. But he also knew that this wouldn’t be easy to achieve. It would require a lot of work, and he was only just at the beginning.

But Dazai had started to trust him. The problem, when you looked at it, was Chuuya. If it weren’t for him, they might have gotten further already. The only reason Dazai had reacted that way was because he was in a relationship. And Chuuya didn’t seem to be taking the matter with the kiss very lightly. Either he had to separate Dazai from his boyfriend, or manipulate him long enough until he could change him. However, Chuuya didn’t seem like the kind of person who could be easily influenced. So how should Mori proceed?

He could try going further with Dazai. He could tell him, that Chuuya would leave him if he found out. He wanted more. He sacrificed so much dating Hinata. At least that is what it felt like. In order to get closer to Dazai, he now supported him and his mother financially. He went on dates with Hinata and was there for her. He played the role of the loving, understanding boyfriend.

It wasn’t easy to abuse a child. You had to calculate a lot of things, be careful. But to Mori it was worth it. He knew that this specific need nobody else could satisfy. He was prepared to go the long way for it. If only the results came faster. He didn’t want to wait so much longer. He simply couldn’t. Every touch, every hug made Mori want Dazai more. And that desire had only gotten more intense after their kiss. Dazai was a very vulnerable and a weak kid with a low self esteem. In short: he was the perfect victim. But what could he do, how far could he go, without Hinata finding out? He still wasn't too keen on telling her he kissed her son. But she didn’t care much about Dazai. And Mori was pretty sure she was after his money. They had gotten together so fast, it was really suspicious. 

But Mori had to test the waters. Who knows, maybe his ‚girlfriend‘ wouldn’t even care. And if she did he would just gaslight her into thinking something else. It would be better to get this over with soon. He had the weekend off, told Hinata he had taken time off of work just to take care of the situation. Of course this just was a convenient lie. 

Hinata had just cried again because of what had happened to her yesterday. Or was it the day before? Well, that didn’t matter anyway. Mori had held her, comforted her. Internally he was rolling his eyes. Could you really call it rape if you were a prostitute? He wouldn’t know. But he also didn’t care too much. When Hinata was done crying, Mori took her hand. They sat on the woman’s bed. 

„Can I talk to you about something?“ The doctor asked. 

Hinata nodded. With what had happened to her, what Mori did wouldn’t sound as bad, so the timing was just about right to come out with this. He just had to phrase it with the right words. 

„I don’t know how to say this in the best way. I truly feel ashamed.“ Mori looked away. Now it was important to act in the perfectly right way. „Dazai-kun kissed me. It really caught me off guard. But I just had to tell you. Of course I rejected him immediately. I don’t know what he was thinking. I was really confused. I told him right away, how kissing me is inappropriate. How I am dating you and all.“ 

Hinata tilted her head to the side. Then she said: „God, this child is so fucking weird. I don't know what is wrong with his head. Anyway, that doesn’t really matter to me. For all I care you can do whatever you want with that kid.“

Jackpot. This woman didn’t care one bit about her son. At all. She had just given Mori the ‚okay‘ to use Dazai however he wanted. This honestly went better than he had expected. 

„Are you serious?“ He asked. Maybe she was joking? In a really fucked up way?

„Yes. I just want you to be happy and to stay with me.“ Hinata said. Yep, she was definitely after the money. Every normal thinking mother would’ve called the police, or told Mori to leave immediately. Ask more questions about the incident. This was too good to be true. But it was true. 

Mori needed to reassure this, although he pretty much already had his answer. „So you don’t care if I…?“ 

„No, I don’t care at all. You can take him to your place and do whatever you want with him. Maybe that will make him regain sense. I hate how confused he is. I just want my daughter back.“

Okay this was good…but also rough? How little could you care about your own child? It surprised Mori. Of course his mind jumped to all of the things he would soon be able to do with Dazai. He kissed Hinata. But she told him she couldn’t do it right now. For fucks sake…

Mori sighed. „It’s okay.“ 

There was a knock at the door. Who could that be? Mori kissed his girlfriend on the forehead. “Just stay here, I’ll get it,” he said, standing up.

“Good afternoon, we’re from Child Protective Services. We’re here about Nakahara Chuuya,” explained a woman. She was pretty.

“Good afternoon. Please, come in,” Mori smiled. “I’ll go get Chuuya-kun.”

So Mori knocked on Dazai’s bedroom door. “CPS is here.”

Shortly after, Dazai opened the door. A completely exhausted-looking Chuuya stood beside him. The three of them went back into the living room, where the two officials were waiting.

“Which one of you two is Nakahara Chuuya?” the woman’s colleague asked.

“Me,” Chuuya said curtly.

“All right. We’ve spoken with your father. He was very drunk, and under the circumstances we don’t believe it’s a good idea to send you back home to him. We’ll arrange for you to be placed with a foster family. But first we need to ask you some more questions. We would like for you to follow us to our office downtown.”

Chuuya said nothing, and Dazai looked at the woman with wide eyes.

“I hate to interrupt,” Mori spoke up, “but I would be willing to apply for custody of Chuuya-kun. None of us want him placed in a, how should I put this… foster family that’s only in it for the money. I don’t mean to accuse anyone, of course not, but I truly want only the best for Chuuya-kun.”

Yes, for Mori there was no reason Chuuya should end up in a group home or foster family. Mori knew how those people thought. And the teenagers in group homes would only be a bad influence. There was also nothing standing in the way of him becoming Chuuya’s foster father. He had a high, stable income, was young, always respectable. And besides, it would be the perfect opportunity to keep his hand in the game. He would be able to shape Chuuya in the right direction. So that would become the plan—not isolating Dazai, but influencing Chuuya too. It was more complicated, but it would be an interesting project nonetheless.

The two officials exchanged a look. Then the man said: “If you’re truly willing, then we’d ask you to join Chuuya-san to come with us to our offices. Guardianship requires a lot of paperwork and is a lengthy process. You must be aware of that.”

“Chuuya-san, would this option even be something you’d consider?” the woman asked.

Of course Mori didn’t know that Chuuya looked at him with suspicion. That he didn’t quite trust him. But still, this seemed like the best option for the kid. He answered: “Yes.”

“All right then. We’ll ask the both of you to come along,” said the woman.

Fate wants it this way, Mori thought, smiling charmingly. Besides, what could be more wonderful than having a cute, pretty middle schooler living with him? Oh, how exiting this was. 

-

It was morning when Hinata sat at the kitchen table with a red marker, circling the new offers in the flyer from the local supermarket. She always did this at the start of the week, when the new flyers were dropped into mailboxes by the postmen. Some mailboxes had signs saying they didn’t want advertising, but the woman in her early twenties was glad to receive the flyers full of worthwhile deals.

She had planned to go grocery shopping after dropping her little daughter off at kindergarten. They lived on the outskirts of Osaka, in a quiet neighborhood. In the last few days, things hadn’t been quite as bad as usual. Of course, money was still as tight as ever, but still. As always, her husband, Jiro, had been out late at night. Drinking. That was one of the reasons they were always so short on cash. He drank away almost his entire paycheck. And he didn’t allow Hinata to work. They had to stretch every single yen. It was a shame she could never buy herself something nice. Not that she would be allowed to anyway. Dinner was what most of the money went toward. Because then Jiro came home from work, and he expected a proper meal.

Hinata often wondered if her husband was simply too stupid to understand that they had absolutely no money for a lavishly set table. There was just never enough left, so she usually ate far too little. Luckily, her daughter rarely had much of an appetite. Although that really wasn’t a good sign for a kid's health. They lived according to Jiro’s moods, who often made his little family feel as though he despised them. The other women in the neighborhood talked a lot, and Hinata knew her husband frequently went to sex workers. At first, this had broken her heart, but by now, it barely affected her. Her husband hadn’t been the same man she had met back then for a very long time.

Yes, back then everything had been different. Better. Much better. Jiro had showered her with compliments and gifts. He had made her feel like she was the most beautiful woman in the world. The only person Jiro wanted and needed. And it didn’t take long before she became pregnant. She had only been nineteen. She had just graduated high school, had actually wanted to study. But the pregnancy meant she first had to take care of herself and her future family. Jiro had constantly reassured her that this was for the best. He would provide the money, and they would live a comfortable life. But soon Hinata realized that something was wrong with her husband.

It was shortly after the birth of their child that her husband began to turn to the bottle more and more often. Almost every night, he came home late. And soon it became every night. 

And then the violence began. Jiro beat his wife, took everything out on her. This happened almost daily. But Hinata knew she couldn’t leave her husband. She was completely financially dependent on him, and she had to provide for her child. Without him, that wouldn’t be possible. She had no good relationship with her family and would probably end up on the street if things ended with her husband. So she endured it. The blows, the insults, the humiliations. Jiro didn’t care at all whether their daughter was in the same room. Naturally, Dazai grew terribly afraid of his father. At least the man was usually not at home. And Hinata tried to put Dazai to bed before her husband came back. Wherever possible, she tried to prevent her little one from being exposed to the domestic violence.

But as we know, Hinata now lives alone. So one might ask how she finally managed to separate from Jiro. The story is not a pleasant one.

One afternoon, Jiro came home early from work. For once, he hadn’t gone drinking with his colleagues at an izakaya. Hinata was in the middle of cleaning the kitchen. Something wasn’t right. She realized this when she bowed slightly and asked how Jiro’s day had been. He wanted her to behave that way. Totally outdated and inappropriate, if you ask me. Little Dazai was sitting at the kitchen table, coloring in a book.

“What’s with that plant?” Jiro asked. Hatred laced his voice. He glared angrily down at Hinata.

“I…I don’t know what you mean,” Hinata said nervously. She glanced at Dazai. She didn’t want him to see her being beaten up again. She didn’t want Dazai to ask her again why daddy was always so angry.

“Don’t play dumb! The plant on the veranda!” Jiro grabbed Hinata’s wrist, making her flinch.

“I…I found it for 300 yen at a yard sale…” the woman whispered. “I thought it was so pretty,” she added. It was the truth. And three hundred yen wasn’t much money. She thought her husband wouldn’t even notice. How naïve of her.

Jiro slapped his wife across the face. “You stupid woman! How dare you throw my money around like that? Is it not enough that I have to beat you already to get some sense into you? ” He let go of Hinata and turned to Dazai, who, as always when his parents fought, had crawled under the kitchen table. Arms wrapped tightly around his knees, eyes squeezed shut.

Jiro crouched down under the table. “Come out. I have to teach your useless mother a lesson.”

“I don’t want to,” Dazai whimpered.

“I said get out of there!” Jiro shouted, grabbing Dazai and yanking him out.

Hinata stood behind him. “Please! Not Dazai-chan!” she begged. She grabbed her husband’s arm, trying to stop what was about to happen.

But Jiro shoved her aside. When she fell to the ground, he struck her again and again. Half-conscious, she heard Dazai crying and screaming for help as his father brutally beat him too. But she couldn’t move. After a while, though, she managed to sit up. But it was already too late. Dazai was lying on the floor. He was unconscious.

“No!” Hinata whispered. She feared the worst. “What have you done!” She took her daughter in her arms, rocking back and forth. Jiro was cruel, violent, and unfaithful, yes. But up until then, he had never laid a hand on Dazai. At least not physically. She clutched her daughter tightly in her arms, who showed no sign of life. Over and over she repeated the words, “Please, no!”

But then something inside her shifted. The panic turned into a desperate need to flee. Hinata looked at her child. Her face was bruised green and blue, blood ran from her nose. But Dazai was still breathing, though only very faintly. Hinata stood up and, within five minutes, stuffed the bare essentials into a travel bag. Then she took Dazai in her arms and ran out of the house. As best as she could, because she herself had been badly beaten and her body ached everywhere.

She had to get herself and her child to safety. And she had to take Dazai to the hospital. So she ran to the nearest one. Tears streamed down her face. Now she was going to lose everything—her husband, her home, her life. Even though all of it was tied to negative memories, at least she had had some kind of daily routine.

Everything after that was a blur. She and Dazai spent seven days in the hospital. Her daughter had a broken nose, a broken rib, and many bruises. The police had wanted to know what had happened, and Hinata had been honest. They said they would arrest Jiro, and that at least gave Hinata a little bit of peace. Still, she was advised to move far away with her child.

And so it happened that some time later, she and Dazai ended up in a women’s shelter in Yokohama. She didn’t want to stay there long. The other women were severely traumatized, as were their children. Hinata refused to admit she was no different. She wanted to get away as quickly as possible. One of the other women advised her to go into prostitution. It was the best way to quickly make a lot of money. And not long after, Hinata could afford a small apartment in a danchi housing block. The place was rundown and tiny, but it was far better than living in such cramped quarters with all those other women.

The work was hard. No, it was horrible. But humans get used to everything over time. And so selling her body became an everyday thing. Hinata started drinking. It began with a glass of wine before work, to calm her nerves. But soon it became more and more. And the older Dazai got, the more he began to resemble his father. It was the eyes, the lips. It only grew worse over time. Hinata drank more and more. In a way she started to become just like Jiro. 

And the fact that Dazai insisted on being a boy made everything even harder. Hinata didn’t understand it. She didn’t want to understand it. She saw Jiro in Dazai. It became almost delusional. No wonder she started taking all her anger out on her child. Yes, she hated Dazai. And she hated men. All of them.

But then she met that incredibly handsome doctor. He was the first man, since meeting Jiro back then, with whom she felt safe. And not only that; he had money. A lot of money. Hinata immediately knew she had to do everything she could to get together with him. The things he said about Dazai—that he was supposedly trapped in the wrong body—made absolutely no sense to her, and she didn’t believe it. But she could lie well, and pretend. This was about a lot of money and her future. She was still young, and if Mori were to get her pregnant, then he would have to stay by her side forever. So she had stopped taking the pill. And unlike Dazai, a child from such a respected doctor would surely be intelligent. Oh, as long as it was normal, everything would be fine. That was the plan.

If it weren’t for Mori, she would have long since thrown Dazai out on the streets. Let him fend for himself. And now he even had the nerve to bring a boyfriend home. Who did he think he was? But with Mori, she could play the picture-book family. He was the loving man she had never had, and she was ready to do anything for him. No wonder, then, that she couldn’t have cared less when he was about to tell her something very questionable regarding her son.

So what her fucked up kid had kissed her boyfriend? It just showed how mentally confused Dazai was. Seemingly having Chuuya wasn't enough for him. He also had to go after Hinatas man. How disrespectful of him. But when Mori had told her, it hadn't seemed like he minded it too much. Maybe he was even one of those man who were into teenagers. And if that were the case, so be it! If it meant Mori would continue dating her, whatever. And right now she had to focus on getting better herself. What had happened to her at work had been really horrifying. She prayed Mori wouldn't fuck some other woman, since she was right now too traumatized to have sex. 

Yes, it would be far better if he satisfied his needs with Dazai and not some random bitch. It would at least stay in the family. Hinatas life had truly turned around. And Mori had told her, he didn't feel comfortable with her doing this job anymore. He also wanted to taker her and the two boys on a vacation in Europe. 

Look at me now, Jiro!  She thought. 

If only she knew, that things would get far worse. Sooner than she could've imagined. 

Chapter Text

Mori and Chuuya were sitting in the offices of the child welfare agency. While a psychologist was currently speaking with Chuuya, another caseworker had asked Mori to come with her. He found himself in a small room that contained nothing but a desk with two chairs and a locked cabinet. Pretty loveless. But then again, child abuse was also a very loveless matter. Mori sat down across from the woman, and they briefly exchanged the usual, Good day, did you have a good trip? Yes, thank you.

Then the woman got straight to the point. She looked down at the papers in front of her. “So you are—” she seemed to search for his name on the sheet, “—Mori Ōgai. You want to apply for custody. As you know, Nakahara Chuuya is being abused at home. We have contacted the child welfare office in his previous place of residence, and they confirmed this to us. We consider it necessary to remove Chuuya-san from his current living situation. This should be carried out as quickly as possible.”

Mori nodded attentively. The woman continued: “You have expressed the wish to take the child in yourself. Could you please explain to me how you imagine that working?”

“Yes, of course. Well, this may sound a little complicated.”

“Complicated is something we’re used to here,” the woman said dryly.

“All right then. I am the steady boyfriend of the mother of Chuuya-kun’s steady boyfriend. Dazai-kun, his boyfriend, and I have known each other for a little while now. Through him I also got to know his mother. I’m serious about her, and I plan to buy a house for us and the children as soon as possible.”

The woman raised a hand, interrupting him. “Just a moment, please. I need to clarify something here. What exactly do you mean that you met Dazai-san’s mother through him?”

Of course. To any outsider that had to sound suspicious, or at least strange. In Mori’s case, however, the truth was perfectly reasonable. “I am a doctor, and I met Dazai-kun through my work. Naturally, that meant I had to come into contact with his mother as well. It was, so to speak, love at first sight.” He smiled and lied through his teeth. He felt absolutely nothing for Hinata. She was only a means to an end.

“I see. That makes sense. Please continue.” The woman adjusted her thin-framed glasses.

“Chuuya-kun and I have a good relationship. He comes over for dinner almost every day at my girlfriend’s place with her son, and we are something like a small family. As it stands: I live alone, I have a very large apartment, and I could prepare a room immediately. I want him to stay with someone he knows and trusts. But, as I already mentioned, I intend to buy a house for all of us.”

“That is important to know. In such cases, we always check whether there are relatives or close reference persons who can take in the child. That is called kinship care. For that, however, we must make sure that you are capable of providing long-term care. You said you are a doctor?”

Mori nodded. “I am a senior doctor at Yokohama Kitagawa Hospital. My income is high and stable. But I am prepared to free up more time to take care of Chuuya-kun. Since my girlfriend is a housewife, this would no longer be a problem once we live together. She could then look after both boys.”

“That already sounds good.” For the first time in this conversation, the woman smiled. Even if it was a somewhat cool smile. “All right. The procedure looks like this: First, we arrange for temporary placement. Here we clarify whether the child can move in with you in the short term. For this, we conduct what’s called a suitability check. That means: we take a look at your living situation, hold interviews with you, and examine whether you can provide the necessary care. Then comes a judicial decision: in parallel, we file a petition with the family court. The court then decides whether custody, or parts of it, can be transferred to you, or whether you will be officially appointed as a foster parent. Then comes the hearing: the court will also hear from you, the child welfare office, and—depending on age—the child as well. And finally, it leads to a permanent arrangement. If everything fits, the court can grant you guardianship or custody. Alternatively, it may remain the case that you care for the child as a foster father, while the child welfare office and the court retain legal responsibility.”

Mori crossed one leg over the other. “That sounds like a long road. How long would that take, approximately?” To be honest, he wasn’t particularly keen on all these detours. But still, he was prepared to do what needed to be done.

“The preliminary decision, whether the child can live with you, usually happens quickly—within a few days. The final arrangement at the family court takes longer, often several weeks to months, depending on how much needs to be reviewed. What’s important is: the child remains safe during that time.”

Now that sounded excellent. Chuuya would therefore be able to move in with Mori very soon. The idea of buying a home had come to him a few days earlier. Living together with Dazai would open entirely new doors. And Hinata wouldn’t hesitate for a second. That was important too, because Mori needed her by his side to uphold the picture they were presenting. After all, no outsider could be allowed to grow suspicious. All of this required a carefully crafted plan.

“I’m ready for whatever comes. It means a great deal to me that Chuuya-kun lives with someone who truly cares about him and has his best interests at heart. There are so many people out there who… well, you know. I just want him to be safe.”

The caseworker nodded in understanding. “That’s good. We will accompany you throughout the whole process, and in the end, the court makes the decision. But you’ve already taken the crucial step by being willing to take responsibility.”

After that, Mori had to fill out some forms, providing various details. It took a while. When he was finished, he handed the papers back to the woman.

“Thank you,” she said. “We’ll get in touch with you in the next few days.”

Mori stood up and bowed. “Thank you very much!”

The woman also bowed. Then Mori left the room. Chuuya was not yet sitting on the chairs in the waiting area. How was the conversation with the psychologist going, the doctor wondered? Mori sat down and picked up one of the newspapers lying on the small table in the waiting area. He opened it and immersed himself in an article about the advancing digitalization in schools.

-

Three days later, Dazai was standing in front of the fridge with the bentos at 7-Eleven. It was Tuesday afternoon, and today he was due for his next injection. He was quite nervous. Unfortunately, Chuuya couldn’t be there to support him this time—he had another appointment with the child welfare office. Dazai still couldn’t fully process everything. Mori was actually going to take Chuuya in. It was comforting to know that his friend would soon be safe. Unfortunately, Chuuya didn’t talk much about any of it. It seemed hard for him. Or maybe it was simply uncomfortable to him.

Inwardly, it hurt Dazai’s pride that his boyfriend didn’t confide in him about this matter. After all, Dazai told Chuuya everything. But he had to respect that. He didn’t really have any other choice.

His eyes drifted across the different plastic packages with all kinds of dishes inside. He decided to get something he could heat up. He had almost forgotten that Mori had told him in a stern voice that it was important to eat a meal before the injection. He settled on a chicken curry. A few months ago, Hinata had only ever given him very little money for food. Often his stomach had ached from hunger. But now it was different. She had given him a whole thousand yen for the day. The meal cost 650 yen. He paid, heated it up in the store’s microwave, and then went back outside. Sitting on a bench in front of the hospital, he ate the food. It really tasted good.

Then Dazai remembered the letter he had pulled out of the mailbox that morning. It had no sender, which meant the writer had delivered it personally. It was something of a long-standing habit for the boy to take care of the mail. His mother had always neglected it. Dazai had been very surprised that someone had written him a letter, but since he had been running late, he had stuffed the envelope into his school bag and left. Over the long school day, he had completely forgotten about it.

Now, with some time left before his appointment with Mori, he pulled the letter out of his bag. He turned it over once or twice in his hands. A bad feeling washed over him. It was as if someone were whispering that something wasn’t right. But what? Well, Dazai almost never received mail. But the fact that there was no sender? Very suspicious.

Still, he pulled himself together and carefully opened the envelope. He unfolded the paper inside. It was a handwritten letter. Confused, Dazai began to read:

Dazai-chan,
It’s me, your father. I’ve thought long and hard about whether I should contact you. Now I’ve decided to. I want you to know the truth, and I miss you. I want to see my daughter again. Everything your mother told you about me is a lie. Please, let me set the record straight.
Your Daddy

Dazai swallowed hard, and his stomach turned. Your Father. Daughter. Jiro didn't know how he actually had a son. For a moment, the kid thought he was going to vomit. What the hell? How did his father know where Dazai and Hinata lived? And what did he mean by the truth? Dazai couldn’t really remember much about his childhood. Sometimes fragments would flash back. Ugly fragments. A man hitting his mother. A man yelling at him and his mother. Things like that.

On the other hand, Dazai knew next to nothing about Jiro. Whenever he had asked his mother, she had always gotten angry. All she ever said was that Jiro was a bad and dangerous man. They hadn’t fled from him for no reason. That was all Dazai knew.

And now came this letter. Suddenly, the world—which had just begun to seem as though it was slowly falling into place—turned completely upside down. Dazai would have never expected to hear from his father again. And he despised that man as well. After all, he had completely abandoned him and Hinata. Well, they had fled from him, but one didn’t do such a thing without a reason.

Dazai’s fingers had clenched so tightly that the letter was now completely crumpled where he had been holding it. He blinked a few times. Should he tell someone about this, or simply forget it? He had no idea.

A short while later, Dazai was sitting on the examination table in a hospital room. Mori stood before him in his white doctor’s coat, holding a syringe that looked terribly intimidating. The boy didn’t particularly like these injections. But there was no helping it. The testosterone was allowing him to become the person he had always truly been. Soon, no one would mistake him for a girl, or simply be confused about his gender. His voice, which—thank God—was naturally not high-pitched, would become deeper. His shoulders broader, his face more defined. He was so excited for these changes.

“Sensei?” said Dazai, closing his eyes as he felt the needle prick his arm.

“I told you, you don’t have to call me that,” Mori replied. “There. All done.” He stepped back, smiling at Dazai. “You did well. I explained everything to you earlier. Now you can expect the first changes to begin. Isn’t that great?” He tossed the syringe into the trash, peeled off his gloves, and sat down behind his desk.

“Yes. Uh… Mori-san?” It felt strange to say it like that. Unfamiliar, somehow.

“What is it?” asked the doctor, glancing over at the boy.

Dazai hopped down from the table and grabbed his backpack. He pulled out the letter and, hesitating slightly, placed it in front of Mori. The man looked at him with mild surprise. “What’s this?” he asked.

“It was in the mailbox this morning,” Dazai explained, still standing beside him. “I don’t know what to do.” His voice was uncertain.

“Aha.” Mori sounded skeptical as he unfolded the note. His brow furrowed as he read. Then: “This isn’t good.”

Not good? Had Hinata told him about her past? Did he perhaps even know more than Dazai himself?

Dazai bit his lower lip nervously. He sat down in the chair across from Mori. “Why?”

Mori sighed. He folded the paper back up and slipped it into the envelope again, but left it sitting on the desk in front of him. “Listen, Dazai-kun. You know by now that your biological father is a very difficult man. He’s caused both you and your mother a great deal of pain. The fact that he now wants to make contact worries me. If your mother were to find out, she wouldn’t sleep another night from fear.”

Hearing it from someone else’s mouth made it all make absolute sense. Jiro was dangerous. And now he was somewhere here in Yokohama. That was really not good. Dazai, too, began to feel anxious. “So what am I supposed to do?” he asked, a little desperately.

“That’s what you have me for.” Mori smiled gently, which reassured the boy. “I’ll keep the letter safe for you. It would be bad if Hina-chan found it. If your father makes further attempts to reach out, then we’ll inform the police and show them this letter. Something like this can very quickly fall under stalking, and then he could be hit with a restraining order.”

Dazai didn’t fully understand, but he nodded. That didn’t change the fact that he was afraid. “What if he suddenly shows up in front of me?”

“Then you run away and get help. Promise?”

“Promise.” Though Dazai wasn’t sure he would actually be able to move and get away if that really happened. “Thanks, Mori-sens… uh, Mori-san.”

“I’m always here for you. And I’ll think things through. It’ll be okay. We’ll manage it.”

That reassured Dazai. Lucky for him, he had Mori. This man was always there when Dazai needed him. And he always had a solution ready. What would the boy do without him?

Mori stood up and walked Dazai to the door. He was expecting the next patient. Before opening the door, he pulled Dazai close and pressed him against his chest. Dazai’s eyes widened at first, but then he relaxed. He inhaled the doctor’s perfume. It smelled really amazing. He felt a hand stroking his hair. Then Mori released him and gently lifted Dazai’s chin with his index finger. They looked into each other’s eyes briefly, and then Mori kissed Dazai on the forehead.

“I’m working late tonight. We’ll see each other tomorrow at dinner. Your mother and I have something special to tell you and Chuuya-kun,” Mori smiled.

“Thanks again!” Dazai said as he walked out the door, turning back to wave with both hands. “See you tomorrow!”

Mori watched him leave, hands in the pockets of his coat, thoughts full of sweet sins.

As Dazai left the hospital, he imagined how he would change over the next few months. If he got stronger, maybe he could even defend himself against the boys at school. But Dazai was naturally very thin, and building muscle would be difficult. But with testosterone, you also naturally got more muscle, right?

Dazai strolled home in a good mood, taking his time. Who knew when Chuuya would be back? Once home, he slipped into his house slippers and stood next to Hinata, who was examining brochures at the kitchen table. They showed pictures of stylish-looking houses. In front of her was a steaming cup of coffee, and she looked very focused. What could it mean?

“I just got my second shot of T,” Dazai said excitedly.

Of course, Hinata didn’t even look up. She didn’t even respond.

“What are you doing?” asked the boy, desperately trying to get at least a little of his mother’s attention.

Hinata sighed, annoyed. “This isn’t something you need to worry about. Mori-kun and I will tell you tomorrow.”

“But why are you looking at these expensive houses?” Dazai caught a glimpse of the price listed under the house on the page Hinata was currently flipping.

“Dazai-kun.” Finally, Hinata looked up. “That’s enough. Go to your room.” She was irritated.

Again, that stabbing feeling hit Dazai’s chest. Every time his mother rejected him, it was there. Why could she dislike him so much? She didn’t even want to have a normal conversation with him! How could someone care so little about their own son? But instead of becoming sad, this time Dazai got angry.

“You know what?” he asked, his voice stubborn. “If you keep being so mean, I’ll tell Mori-san.” That would finally make her treat him like a human being instead of an annoying blot. Dazai knew exactly that Hinata played the loving mother in front of Mori. At least, she tried. She pretended. All to please the doctor. Yes, she completely put on an act. What would she say now?

Hinata suddenly stood up, and Dazai automatically stepped back. Yep, that hadn’t been a good idea. Just a second ago, he had almost felt superior.

“Now listen to me!” Hinata was angry. “You will not ruin things with Mori-kun for me! I don’t know what makes you think you can just say these things! How I raise you is none of Mori-kun’s business. If you weren’t the way you are, maybe I’d care what you do. But a strange kid like you just reminds me how much I’ve failed with you. So stop bothering me all the time! And I swear, if you ever dare threaten me again!” Her eyebrow twitched.

Dazai turned chalk-white. He trembled slightly. It hurt so damn much to be called weird and annoying by his own mother. He couldn’t help it. Tears welled up in his eyes.

Then Hinata slapped her son across the cheek with the flat of her hand. “Don’t play the victim again! Stop crying immediately!”

“I’ll tell Mori-san,” Dazai whispered. Why had those words left his mouth? Was it desperation? He didn’t know. But he knew he should have kept it to himself.

“If you do that, I’ll throw you out. Then you can see where you end up!” Another slap.

Dazai turned and ran to his room. He slammed the door and sank to the floor. He pulled his knees to his chest and cried. His mother hated him. All he wanted was just a little attention from her. That she would be happy for him when he got his shot. That she would tell him why she was looking at those houses. That was all he wanted.

But no matter what Hinata had thrown at him, Dazai would tell Mori everything. He had already intervened once, and everything had gone fine. He could just take a quiet moment to talk to Hinata and explain that she should focus on her boy. Maybe that would actually change something. Dazai had already tried everything else. He had cut himself and worn a T-shirt so his mother could see the wounds and worry. She didn't. He had tried talking to her. Once, he had even bought her a bracelet from a small shop near the station, hoping she would be happy. But none of it had worked.

Mori was the boy’s last remaining chance.

He sat there for a while and cried. Fortunately, after some time the door opened and Chuuya came in. He had his backpack slung over one shoulder and was still wearing his school uniform.

“Hey,” he said. Then he knelt beside Dazai and put an arm around him. “What’s wrong?”

Dazai had calmed down a little, but his eyes were still red from all the crying. It was clear he wasn’t doing well.

“Mom was mean to me. She hit me. I only wanted to have a normal conversation with her,” Dazai looked at his boyfriend in desperation.

“I’m sorry. Can I do anything for you?”

“You being here is enough.”

Chuuya nodded. “Maybe it’ll help if I tell you about my day. As a distraction. And then we’ll go get crepes, okay?”

“Sounds good,” Dazai said. Chuuya was simply the best. He always showed up when Dazai needed him most.

“Okay. So—I was at the child welfare office. I was allowed to leave after the second period. Of course some people asked me where I was going. I just told them I had a doctor’s appointment. None of their damn business. Then I talked to Ms. Yamakawa. She’s super nice. I had to tell her all sorts of things. It’s weird talking to a psychologist but somehow it helps, you know? Anyway, they all think it’s a good idea that Mori-sensei gets custody. But somehow…” —he suddenly sounded thoughtful.

Dazai tilted his head. “What?”

“I don’t know. I mean, Mori-sensei is super rich and he’s really kind and then we’d be a family and all. But I just have a strange feeling about him. I’ll do it, no question—I never want to go into a foster family again.” Then, a little hesitantly, he added: “Still… also, it’d be weird to date your stepbrother.”

“You don’t need to worry,” Dazai took the other’s hand. “Mori-san is great. You can tell him anything and he always helps me when I don’t know what to do. He’s the coolest adult I know. I think without him everything would look different right now.”

“I know, Dazai-kun.” Chuuya looked at Dazai with concern. “I know how much you idolize him. But since that thing with the kiss… I just can’t get it out of my head.”

“But…” Dazai wanted to defend himself. After all, Mori had apologized. It had been an accident. Why wouldn’t Chuuya understand?

“It’s okay. I’ll handle it.” It sounded like Chuuya was trying to convince himself more than his boyfriend. “Whatever. How was your day?”

“Actually fine. But something weird happened. So wait—first I had my second injection.”

Chuuya kissed him. “I’m so proud of you!” They kissed again.

That made it hard to concentrate. Dazai’s thoughts drifted to memories of the first time with Chuuya. He was completely out of sorts. His eyes wandered down Chuuyas’s torso.

No—this is important. They could fall over each other later. “So… uh…” Dazai tried again. “I got a letter from my father. He wants to see me again and says he wants to tell me the truth. Whatever that’s supposed to mean.”

Chuuya looked surprised. “Show me!”

“I can’t.” the brunette admitted. “Mori-san has the letter.”

“Huh? Why’s that?”

“Well, we don’t want Mom to see it. It wouldn’t be good for her,” Dazai explained.

“Let me guess—Mori-sensei told you that, right?”

Somehow Dazai felt caught out. But why? He hadn’t done anything wrong. So he simply nodded.

“It’s not a big deal. What do you want to do now?” Chuuya asked, curious.

“I don’t want to see Jiro-san again. You know, we ran away from him when I was very little. That’s what Mom told me. She says he’s dangerous. Now I’m a bit scared because he’s probably somewhere in Yokohama.”

Chuuya considered. “That’s a tricky situation. He probably won’t leave you alone if you meet him even once.”

“To be honest, I don’t know,” Dazai admitted.

“But if… Jiro-san is dangerous, then it’s better you don’t meet him. But what if he doesn’t leave you alone? Sorry, I don’t mean to make you more scared.”

“I have no idea what to do! But Mori-san said if he keeps at it we’ll call the police.”

“That’s probably best.” Then Chuuya’s fingers stroked Dazai’s knee. He seemed a little turned on too.

A shiver went though Dazai’s entire body. He felt the fingers caressing his inner thigh. 

„Sorry, but I couldn’t concentrate anymore. You look so beautiful.“ Chuuya whispered. He started kissing Dazai’s neck, who tried his best not to moan. After all, Hinata was in the other room. He brought a hand in front of his mouth. His underwear was already wet. 

Chuuya pushed him down. He sat on Dazai, took of his shirt. The brunette touched the other’s abs. Chuuya was skinny, but still had muscles. He had a rather small waist but muscles on his chest and arms showed. He looked so prefect. Dazai could’ve done this forever. It felt so good to touch him. 

But then in one movement Chuuya pinned Dazai’s hands behind his head. „I’ll make you feel good.“ He whispered. They made out again. 

Then Chuuya let go and unbuttoned Dazai’s pants, who watched the scene fully captivated. In the next moment Chuuyas head was in-between the other’s legs, that were now bent. His tongue moved over Dazai’s clit. It was as if he had done this countless times before. The movements of his tongue seemed practiced, these hit the exact spot perfectly. Dazai breathes heavy and Chuuya did too. The brunette closed his eyes and let himself fall completely. It was like heaven. 

Of course Dazai didn’t last for a long time. He felt how he was about to climax. His head fell to the side and he bit his lip. Then a thousand electro shots went him. It started between his legs, then took over his entire body. He couldn't hold back those desperate moans. Chuuya’s head was still between his legs and after a short pause he continued moving his tongue. The orgasm didn’t stop. It was so intense, Dazai thought he was going to loose his mind. „Fuck…“ he moaned. He came three times before Chuuya stopped, and then kissed the spot just above the clit. Then he lay down next to Dazai, who was still trying to catch his breath. 

Chuuya smiled. „You taste really good, ya know that?“

Dazai immediately blushed. So he turned to his side and cuddled against the other. The floor was rather cold, but their bodies were warm. If not hot. For a while they just stayed like this. Dazai was still in the after math of his orgasm. 

When Dazai was back on earth, his fingers went down to his boyfriend’s belt. He wanted to make him feel good too. 

„Dazai-kun.“ Chuuya interrupted him. „There is so much on my mind right now. I’m sorry.“

„Oh, it’s okay.“ Dazai said, a little dejected. Sure, he had climaxed but he still wanted to feel Chuuya’s hard dick inside him. He deeply longed for that feeling. But it made sense. And of course Dazai would never pressure the other. At least Chuuya was honest with him. 

„But if you want me to go down on you again I can totally do it.“ The redhead grinned. 

„Don’t worry about it.“ Dazai whispered.

They kissed and when their lips parted they both looked up the ceiling, holding hands. 

„I can’t believe this is my life now. I’m really happy.“ Chuuya said.

„Me too.“ Dazai replied. Yes he was happy. And he never thought he would be able to feel this way in his life, a few months ago. 

Chapter Text

On a rainy autumn afternoon, Jiro Osamu sat in a rundown bar in Yokohama’s harbor district. In front of him stood a whiskey on the rocks. He was seated at the counter. Three barstools down, a middle-aged man was drowning his sorrows in alcohol. Or maybe he simply enjoyed trinken Vodka back to back.

Since Jiro had returned to Japan, not much had happened. On the surface, that is. After all, he had only been back in his home country for 8 weeks. Though, strictly speaking, Yokohama wasn’t his home—Osaka was. But Japan was the country where he had been born forty years ago. Eight years earlier, he had left it behind. His wife had disappeared. From one day to the next, she had packed her most important belongings and run off—with Jiro’s daughter in tow. To this very day, he despised her for it. Hinata had been his wife. She had belonged to him. She had no right to just leave him like that. But she had always been the stubborn type. 

Sometimes Jiro had the feeling that Hinata had never really understood what it meant to be a wife. Too often she thought of her own comfort. She knew the routines, knew what Jiro expected of her. And yet the food was often not ready on time, or she had “forgotten” to buy new sake. Of course, the man didn’t realize that forgetting had never been the issue. Hinata had simply been afraid—for herself and for her daughter—when Jiro had been drinking too much.

So when he came home from work one evening and found that the two of them were gone, it was no wonder he completely lost it. In a fit of rage, he had torn the entire house apart. How dare his wife abandon him? That damned whore! She had probably run off with another man. Yes, that would be just like her. He had seen, how she had looked at other men. She had never known her place. 

Jiro clicked his tongue, thinking of how ungrateful and rude of a woman Hinata just was. Then he emptied his glass and signaled to the bartender that he wanted another.

But now it was time to set things straight. Finally. Who knew what kind of suffocating, lying nonsense Hinata had filled their daughter’s head with? No—Jiro wasn’t going to let anyone take his little girl away from him. He had made up his mind. He would get her back—no matter what it cost. And Hinata would pay for everything she had done to him. Yes, she would regret betraying her husband. 

In America, Jiro had tried to build a new life for himself. His English was decent, but the job he had managed to get was nowhere near as good as the one he’d had in Japan. Still, he managed to get by, living in a small apartment in Chicago. He met many women there. American women were more open minded. Way more open minded. Jiro was a fairly good-looking man—though by American standards, perhaps a little on the shorter side. Even so, all kinds of women ended up in bed with him. It was child’s play.

He even had a serious relationship once. Michelle—blonde, slim, yet beautifully curvy in just the right places. She took care of her appearance and was confident. She often went out, had many friends. She had worked as a yoga teacher. 

But over time, Jiro realized he couldn’t handle that self-assured nature. And Michelle couldn’t handle the fact that her boyfriend was a drinker. Jiro firmly believed that women should be obedient—that their duty was to serve their husbands. Michelle disagreed. In fact, every American woman he had met seemed to think differently. His male coworkers considered this kind of behavior completely normal, which baffled Jiro. Americans always had to act so obsessively progressive. The land of dreams, and all that. It disgusted him. Some things should stay the old fashioned way. Especially when it came to marriage. 

After his failed relationship, Jiro decided to return to Japan.
America had brought him no luck — only another second-rate life on the fringes of the middle class.
It was time to move on, and time to claim what had always rightfully belonged to him: his daughter.

He wondered what she might look like now. She had to be beautiful — she was fourteen by now. Hopefully, she hadn’t taken after Hinata. That would be a shame. It would suck to look his little girl in the eyes and think of his bitch wife. 

Jiro knew it would take a long time to find Hinata and Dazai again. After all, he had no real leads. But the two of them were still legally married, and that would help him.
The police officers he spoke to were all very friendly — they seemed to understand him, some even pitied him. He fed them all sorts of stories. Of course, he tried his luck at the local registry office as well. Every day, he spent his time trying to track down his former family.

And finally, the trail led him to Yokohama.
Honestly, he would’ve thought that a slut like his wife would have ended up in Tokyo.
After all, she had no real qualifications and must have been working in some shady establishment. There was no way that snake was earning her money honestly — she was far too incompetent and stupid for that anyway.

And then, on an ordinary Wednesday afternoon, Jiro spotted Hinata in a shopping district.
She was wearing a tight, dark green dress, her hair perfectly blow-dried for volume, and her dainty feet were tucked into black high heels. Who did she think she was? She looked like some high-class escort.

At first, Jiro hadn’t trusted his eyes — but there was no doubt. It was Hinata. And he wasn't even that drunk, so he could be sure about it. 

And then it happened.
A tall, slender man in an expensive-looking suit stepped out of a Mercedes.
Hinata walked toward him, and they kissed. The man’s hand slipped around Hinata’s waist, pulling her closer. 
Maybe the stranger was just a client? Yes, that had to be it. They shamelessly made out in front of that pretentious car. 

Jiro didn’t want to admit it, but the two of them looked like real movie stars. His fists clenched. He would’ve liked nothing more than to confront them both right then and there. No wonder his wife had snagged some rich guy. Of course she had — it fit perfectly. She’d always been a gold digger. The fact that Jiro himself had never brought money home, at least not a lot, didn't seem to go into that thought of his. 

So Jiro followed the two of them. Eventually, they went into a fancy restaurant. But Jiro had time — he waited.
When they finally came back out onto the street, Hinata was laughing heartily. Was she drunk?
What kind of woman behaved like that in front of a man? Disgraceful!

They walked back to the car and got in. When they drove off, Jiro lost their trail — but he had memorized the license plate number.

That turned out to be an advantage. In his regular bar, which was frequented almost exclusively by shady types, he had struck up a sort of friendship with a policeman.
The guy was there every day and clearly hated his job. He did corrupt things and even never bothered to hide it.

So when Jiro asked him to look up a certain license plate, the man didn’t even hesitate for a second.
“20,000 yen and I’ll do it,” he grumbled.

That was comparatively cheap. Jiro had saved up enough money before returning to Japan. After all, he had decided to invest several weeks solely into finding his daughter.
He’d only look for a job after he succeeded.
And he would succeed.

It turned out that the flashy Mercedes belonged to a certain Mori Ōgai — a surgeon at Yokohama Kanagawa Hospital.
Now Jiro had his address in his hands. He was making quick progress; he was practically made for this kind of work, even if he wasn’t getting paid for it. So you couldn't really call it work. 

From that point on, everything happened fast.
He followed Mori’s every move — always keeping to the shadows, always discreet.
And sure enough, he discovered Hinata’s new address.

However, he hadn’t seen any girl around Dazai’s age going in or out of the apartment complex.
At least, none who could have been his daughter.
Jiro would recognize her instantly — no question about that. He always carried a picture of her with him, from when she was six years old. 

So he wrote a letter and dropped it into the mailbox.
Now he would wait a few days before taking the next steps.
His plan would work — of that, there was no doubt.

-

“Well then,” began Mori, setting down his chopsticks. “Hinata-chan and I have something to announce.”
He smiled — so it had to be good news.

Dazai looked at the doctor expectantly, while Chuuya appeared more indifferent, taking a sip of his water.

Mori took Hinata’s hand and continued:
“We’ve been thinking about this for quite some time. And we’ve decided that it would be best to buy a house — for all of us.”
He looked at the two boys with anticipation.

Dazai stared, eyes wide.
A house?
Was that why his mother had been looking through those brochures? It was too good to be true!
Never in his wildest dreams had Dazai imagined that one day they might move out of this gray concrete block. He thought he would be there stuck forever. 

And did for all of us mean that Chuuya would move in too? If Mori got custody, then definitely. 

Excitedly, Dazai clapped his hands together. “Is that really true?” he asked eagerly.

“Yes, it is,” said Mori, glancing at Hinata, who smiled at him. “We’ve already narrowed it down to three properties that we’ll be viewing over the course of the week. They’re in good neighborhoods, and the school commute by bus shouldn’t be a problem for you two.”

A house like that had to cost a fortune! And Mori and Hinata hadn’t even been dating that long. Didn’t people only buy a house together after being in a relationship for a few years — or after getting married?

They must be deeply in love.
That made Dazai happy. Surely, this would make his mother happy too.
Maybe, after the move, she would finally relax a bit.

“Can Chuuya-kun and I come to the viewings too?” Dazai asked, his eyes sparkling. He hadn’t expected this at all — what wonderful news!

He and Chuuya would see each other every day. They’d never have to be apart again. And Chuuya would be farther away from his father — safer. It was all so incredibly perfect.

“I think that would just be boring for you two,” Hinata cut in. "The realtor talks and explains a lot. Kids like you wouldn't understand those things. You’d only get bored.”

So she clearly wanted to do this alone — just with her boyfriend. What a pity. Dazai would have loved to see all the options. Of course, he knew he had no say in the matter, but still. The brunette looked over at Chuuya, who seemed deep in thought. He didn’t seem to intend to comment on the topic at all.

“Anyway, we’ve planned everything out, haven’t we, sweetheart?” Mori said, turning to Hinata, who nodded. “Hina-chan will take care of you two, so she won’t have to work anymore. Don’t worry — I earn more than enough to support all of us. We also wanted to make sure that both of you have your own rooms. Even though you’re in a relationship, it’s important that each person has their own personal space. A place to retreat to.”

Wow — everything was so well thought out. And if Hinata didn’t have to work anymore, then nothing bad would happen to her again. Yes, she would be kinder. She definitely would.

“And when are we moving?” Dazai asked. He could hardly wait to start this new life — finally out of that run-down apartment that smelled like smoke and stale alcohol! Finally out of that poor neighborhood!

Mori grinned. He seemed to find Dazai’s excitement amusing — or rather, endearing.
“We want to start as soon as possible. Once we’ve made our decision, you and your mother can start packing boxes, Dazai-kun. Then I’ll hire a moving company to make things as easy for us as possible.”

Suddenly, Chuuya cleared his throat.
He still hadn’t looked up from his bowl of ramen — which he had barely touched.
Lately, Chuuya had been eating very little. Dazai had noticed.
But when he’d asked his boyfriend why he never seemed to want to eat, Chuuya had reacted a little irritably.
Dazai didn’t want to push the topic too much, but he was worried.

Sure, overall, Chuuya was loving and caring — but these days sometimes his affection seemed forced, as if something very different was going on inside him.
If only he would let Dazai see what he was really feeling.

“But what about my stuff? It’s still at my father’s place.” Chuuya’s voice sounded cold, monotone. Unlike Dazai, he didn’t seem to be taking the good news with much enthusiasm.

Mori tilted his head slightly, thinking for a moment before replying: “I’ll take care of that. You shouldn’t have to deal with your father again. We could also ask your older brother to help us a bit — that would make things much easier.”

Chuuya frowned. Yes, something was going on inside him. And it couldn’t be anything pleasant. “I never want to talk to Verlaine-niisan again,” he said stubbornly. Dazai had never seen this side of him before. “I don’t want to!” The redhead seems really frustrated. What exactly did he mean by that?

“Listen, Chuuya-kun,” Mori’s voice had taken on that gentle tone again — the one he always used when things got serious. “You don’t have to talk to your brother. If you give me his number, I can handle everything.”

Dazai looked at his boyfriend — whose lower lip was trembling slightly.

“But I don’t want that! And besides, my stuff is private!”

Did he maybe have a porn collection or something? Well, what teenage boy didn’t? Was that really what he was so embarrassed about?

When Mori sighed and opened his mouth to speak, Chuuya suddenly stood up and left the room. That kind of behavior was completely unlike him. He was usually so polite and composed.

Dazai started to get up too — he wanted to follow him, ask him if everything was okay. Which it wasn't, but still Dazai wanted to show how he cared. 

“Wait, Dazai-kun,” Mori said. “I think Chuuya-kun needs a little time to himself right now.”

It was strange. On one hand, Dazai was overjoyed about the news; on the other, he was worried about Chuuya and felt helpless.
How was he supposed to deal with all these mixed emotions? Either way, he still wanted to talk to Mori — about what had happened yesterday. With his mother.

The three of them finished dinner, talking about all sorts of things related to the move. Afterward, Dazai helped his mother with the dishes while Mori read the newspaper.
Like a real family, Dazai thought, unable to suppress a smile.

When they were done, Hinata walked over to Mori and hugged him from behind. Her skirt was very short, and Dazai looked away, embarrassed. Sure, his mother was still young — but did she have to dress like a college girl all the time? Was that what Mori liked?
No — better not to think about their relationship. That wasn’t the kid's business.

“I have to go over to Sachiko-san’s place,” Hinata said. “She’s got a few cooking pots, and I lent her a tea set once.” Sachiko was their neighbor. The only person in the house Hinata talked to. Maybe it was because Sachiko loved to drink wine. Sometimes she would come over and they would drink late into the night, discussing and laughing about all sorts of things. 

Mori put down the newspaper, and the two of them kissed. For a long time.

Dazai’s face turned bright red. But at least now, he’d finally get the chance to talk to Mori. Hinata left for the hallway and disappeared out the door. Dazai exhaled deeply, hoping his face had returned to its usual pale color, then sat down next to Mori.

“I wanted to talk to you about something,” Dazai said shyly.

Mori placed a hand on the boy's thigh. “Of course. I'm always listening.”

This touch distracted Dazai. Since the last injection, he had been constantly horny, and even the slightest touch turned him on.

“Um... well...” he stammered, unable to hold the other's gaze. But then he managed to pull himself together. "It's about Mom. She... she was mean to me yesterday again. And I felt so bad about it. She's always so mean to me. But I just wanted to talk to her. And I wanted to tell her about the injection. But she said... she said I was,“ Dazai's voice broke. ”Annoying and weird."

Mori looked at the boy sympathetically and stroked his knee. “You know, your mother is still having a hard time with you being transgender. But believe me, she's doing her best.”

Dazai interrupted him. “No, she's not! I told her I would tell you that she's so mean to me, and then, and then she hit me. Twice. All I want is for her to love me!” Tears ran down his cheeks. He wiped them away with the end of his sleeve.

“Oh, Dazai-kun. I'm so sorry. Come on, let's sit down on the sofa.” Mori stood up and held out his hand to the boy, who took it and followed him to the sofa. They sat close together.

“I-I think she hates me,” Dazai stammered and snuggled up to the adult's chest. Mori stroked his back.

“No, your mother loves you. She's just had a very difficult life and finds it hard to show her love. But I can't condone her hitting you. I'll talk to her about it. But I also think it might take a little longer before your mommy is able to give you more affection.”

“How long?” Dazai asked through his tears. All he wanted was to be seen. To feel loved. He knew he was strange. But didn't strange people deserve affection and recognition too? He didn't even want to be praised all the time or anything. He asked for so little!

"I can't tell you that either. But I'm sure that once we've moved, everything will be better and calmer. And you have me.“ Mori kissed the boy's head. ”If you need affection, I can give it to you. As you know, I have no trouble giving you attention and everything you need. After all, I'm your new daddy, so to speak."

“Thank you.” Dazai's heart warmed. Yes, Hinata was often mean to him, but Mori was all the more loving. And he would talk to Hinata. That made Dazai feel better. His mother must value Mori's opinion. After all, they were a couple. The hand stroking his back slowly slid further down. Dazai didn't question it. He enjoyed the scent and warmth of the other.

“I'm worried about Chuuya-kun.” Once you've started, you might as well talk about everything that's on your mind, right?

“I understand. He's been acting differently the last few days. I of course noticed it too,” Mori replied. He hugged the boy tighter. "But you know, he's going through a difficult time right now. There are a lot of changes coming in his life. That can be pretty scary. And even though his father is violent, it can be hard to leave him completely. Maybe Chuuya-kun misses him too. Things like that are often difficult to explain to others. That's why he's closing himself off, I suppose. Just give him space and time. That will get better too. Besides, Chuuya-kun is in therapy now. He can talk about everything there, so he's not bottling it all up inside."

How did Mori always manage to find the perfect words?

“What should I do now?” Dazai stopped crying. He had more or less calmed down again.

Mori tilted his head back and looked at the ceiling. His hand played with the hem of Dazai's pants. “Well, you can be there for him. But don't pressure him. He knows you're there for him. You can do something to distract him. If you need money for the movies or the amusement park, just come to me, okay? Chuuya-kun is very stressed, so if he gets a little rough, don't hold it against him.”

“Okay,” Dazai replied. If only it were that easy! He was so damn insecure and didn't want to do anything wrong. If only he weren't so awkward, but confident instead.

Mori’s thumb was stuck under the waistband auf Dazai’s pants. His Fingers slowly stroked the kid’s ass. Thanks to the blanket Dazai had pulled over them, you couldn’t see how Mori was hard. Dazai didn’t question any of this. He simply was glad that someone was being there for him, holding him. He was so innocent, that he didn’t understand, how the adult was touching him somewhere, where you’d normally would have to ask for permission. 

The two of them stayed curled up together on the sofa. Then Hinata came back. She was carrying a large brown cardboard box in her hands and set it down on the kitchen table.

“Having a cozy time, you two?” she asked in her sweetest voice. Then she turned back to the box. One second she was warm, the next distant. It was an endless up and down, and Dazai couldn’t make sense of it.

“Yes—but now we’ve lazed around long enough,” Mori said, kissing Dazai's head before standing up. Somehow, that small gesture felt like being left behind. A strange sting of jealousy spread in Dazai’s chest as he watched the two adults together.

Mori walked over to Hinata and wrapped his arms around her from behind. He whispered something into her ear—too quietly for Dazai to hear from the couch. She laughed softly, leaning into him. Then Mori started kissing her neck, one hand squeezing her breast.

Of course Dazai quickly looked away. That’s enough, he thought bitterly. Can’t they do that somewhere else?

Frustrated, he stood up and went to his room. There he found Chuuya lying curled up on his bed, motionless.

Dazai sat down beside him. “Do you want to talk about it?” His voice trembled with uncertainty.

Chuuya’s eyes were empty. He looked completely drained. “No offense, Dazai-kun… but I want to be alone right now.”

Ouch. That hurt. Dazai had wanted to talk about the new house, to imagine how they’d decorate their rooms, what their days would be like once they moved. But Chuuya wanted space—and that thought stabbed at Dazai’s heart. He felt unwanted again. A bother.

So he just silently nodded and got up. Out in the hallway, he hesitated. His mother and Mori were in the kitchen—he could hear her laughing, her voice rising between muffled words. "No there, babe!" he heard her say and his chest tightened.

He slipped on his shoes and quietly left the apartment. The image of Mori touching his mother was somehow burned into his mind. And why was there still this fucking jealousy? 

The elevator carried him down to the ground floor, and moments later he was standing on the street, not sure where to go. He wished he could’ve stolen some alcohol from the kitchen, but… well, that wasn’t an option. So he headed for the convenience store instead—the one where he’d shoplifted before. It was easy there. Almost too easy.

He grabbed a bottle of soju, slid it into his jacket pocket, and walked out. Then he made his way toward the park. The cool air stung his cheeks as he took the first swig. Maybe this would dull the noise in his head for a while.

He didn’t notice the man in the dark trench coat following him at a distance. Didn’t sense the eyes that trailed his every step. When Dazai finally sat down on a park bench, he took another drink—and then froze. A man was standing in front of him. Dazai had never seen him before.
Or had he?

Something about the stranger’s face stirred a deep, uneasy memory. A cold, instinctive dread spread through him, like a shadow rising up from somewhere he didn’t want to remember.

“Hello,” the man said with a smile. He looked to be in his mid-forties, with deep-set eyes and faint dimples.

Dazai didn’t say a word. He gripped the soju bottle tightly and stared at the stranger.
The situation was strangely familiar—yet completely different from when Mori had first approached him in the park. Back then, he hadn’t felt afraid. Nothing about Mori had seemed threatening; the conversation had come naturally.
Now, everything inside him screamed danger.

“Mind if I ask you something?” the man said. Smoke curled lazily between his fingers as he spoke, the cigarette glowing red in the fading light. Without waiting for an answer, he continued, “You live in that apartment block over there, right?” He gestured toward the Danchi complex in the distance. From here, Dazai could just barely make out the roof of his building.

How the hell did this man know where he lived? The kid wanted to stand up—to excuse himself, to walk away—but his legs wouldn’t move.

“I’m looking for a girl,” the man went on, his tone calm, almost casual. “She’s my daughter. She was adopted years ago, and now I’d like to meet her. I know she lives in that building, and since I’ve seen you going in and out a few times, I thought I’d ask if you know her.” He took a drag from his cigarette, then tilted his head slightly, as if to spare Dazai from the smoke.

He’d been watching him. The realization hit Dazai like ice water. His pulse quickened. He looked up at the man’s face—and something inside him dropped.
No. No, no, no. Please not that.

“I’m looking for a girl named Dazai Osamu,” the man said. “She should live in your complex. Maybe you’re friends?”

Shit.

There was no doubt left.
The man standing in front of him was his biological father. A wave of nausea hit Dazai. It was just as Mori had said—Jiro had been following them. Stalking them.
Of course he hadn’t found his “daughter.”  Because he had a son. And maybe—just maybe—that would be his saving grace.
For once, being transgender might actually protect him. Stay calm, he told himself. Don’t let him notice anything.

“I don’t know anyone by that name,” Dazai said, trying to sound casual. His voice trembled despite his best effort.

Jiro studied him with narrowed eyes. He didn’t look convinced. “But a woman named Hinata Osamu lives there, doesn’t she?”

Dazai swallowed hard. “Honestly… uh, I don’t know everyone in the building. There are so many people.” He forced a nervous little laugh, hoping it sounded natural.

But something in Jiro’s expression shifted. Something dark. Predatory. “She’s slim, beautiful, long wavy hair,” he said, almost dreamily. “Always dressed nice. Very big boobs.” He smirked. “A boy your age would notice a woman like that, right?”

A cold shiver ran down Dazai’s spine. There was no longer any question—Jiro had been watching his mother. He had to get away. Now.

“There are lots of women in my building,” Dazai said quickly, trying to steady his shaking voice. “I think I might know who you mean, but I don’t know what floor she lives on or anything.” As soon as the words left his mouth, regret flooded him. Had he just given his mother away? He stood, heart pounding. Jiro was far too close now.
“I—I have to go,” Dazai said, taking a step back.

Jiro didn’t move. He just watched him—his gaze sharp, searching.
Then, with a strange, almost amused tone, he said: “Boy, you look familiar. Do I know you from somewhere?”

Dazai shook his head hastily. Then he pushed past Jiro and left the park at a brisk pace. He turned around several times. But he didn't seem to be followed. That didn't make him feel any better, though. He quickly drank the soju. At least he was tipsy now. That helped against the panic. One thing was certain: he had to tell Mori about it. As soon as possible.

When he got home, Jiro had fortunately not followed him, so Dazai took off his shoes and listened. His mother and Mori seemed to be finished. He put on his slippers and entered the kitchen. Mori was leaning against the kitchen counter, a smug grin on his face. His tie was loosened and his shirt was hanging out of his pants. Hinata was just putting her blouse back on. Her breasts were literally spilling out of her bra. She could really use a larger size.

Why did the two of them have to have sex in the kitchen? What if Chuuya had heard them? The redhead certainly didn't have the energy for that in his current situation. Dazai had turned bright red again and just stood there, overwhelmed and embarrassed.

Mori noticed him and turned to the boy. Dazai made a furtive hand gesture, beckoning the man over. “I need to talk to you,” Dazai whispered.

“Oh yeah? What's up?” Mori raised an eyebrow.

“I'll be in the bathtub,” Hinata called to her boyfriend.

“See you later, babe.” Then Mori turned back to Dazai. “You look like you've seen a ghost,” he remarked.

“It's Jiro-san. He followed me and ambushed me in the park.”

“That's not good. Did he recognize you?”

“No... I... I don't think so. He said he was looking for his daughter,” said Dazai desperately. Suddenly, the alcohol kicked in. He could feel it much more now.

“Tell me,” Mori tilted the other's chin lightly up with two fingers. “Have you been drinking?”

“I...uhhh...no!” Dazai lied. It must've been on his breath. “But Jiro-san is here! He knows where we live. We have to do something!”

Mori smiled. It didn't fit the situation at all. Then: “We'll call the police. It can't go on like this. I'm scared for you and your mother's safety.”

Dazai nodded. “Do you think everything will be okay?” he asked.

“Definitely,” replied Mori. Suddenly, he pulled Dazai toward him. “I don't think it's good that you drank without permission.”

Dazai didn't reply. What could he say? Continue to deny it? He said nothing, held his breath. Something inside of him stirred as he felt those bigs arms around him. 

Mori put both of his hands around the boy's waist. "You're so slim." He whispered. 

The brunette had no idea of what to do. This did something to him. There was no doubt about that. But why was his new daddy doing this? 

"What are you doing?" Dazai finally asked, felt the fingers still on his waits, squeezing it. 

"I bet Chuuya-Kun's not able to be there for you right now. I mean physically." Mori whispered. This felt forbidden. Wrong. 

Dazai pushed the other away. His breathing was heavy. And yes, he had gotten wet. Why did his body react like this? Why did it betray him? 

You could hear the water running from out of the bathroom. The window was open and you could hear, how rain had started falling. Dazai's back was against the table. Mori looked down on him. And undeniably: there was greed and lust in his eyes. "Nobody can hear us right now." he said, his voice still lowered. 

"What...?" Dazai was so terribly confused. Or was this maybe normal? He didn't have a father, so he didn't know what a relationship between dad and son was like. Maybe this was normal? Hinata never showed him affection at all, so he had nothing to compare. 

"Fuck, stop seducing me." Mori said, then he kissed the boy. 

Dazai's eyes were shut close. Was this even real? Was it really happening right now? He felt the other's tongue in his mouth. The he felt a hand between his legs. Dazai moaned, this was too much. He couldn't take this type of physical contact. 

But he knew it wasn't right. Something inside of him told him that. Even though he still wasn't sure, if this was normal behavior of a father, his gut feeling spoke for itself. 

"Stop!" Dazai desperately begged, as their lips parted. 

Mori tiled his head to the side, acting oblivious. "But your body tells me to continue." 

Dazai looked away. The expression on his face confused. "No..." he said, almost inaudible. 

"What the fuck?" It was Chuuya's voice. No!

Dazai turnend and saw his boyfriend standing in between the doorframe. For how long had he watched this. The brunette sinked into the ground. This was embarrassing. And of course Chuuya wouldn't like this. At all. 

Chuuya walked up to them. "What the fuck!" he said again. Then he grabbed Mori by the tie, who just looked amused by the situation. 

"You perverted creep!" Chuuya's voice was loud. he was full of anger. "Why the fuck would you kiss a teenager? What the fuck is wrong with you? Leave Dazai-kun alone! I will tell child protectives services you're a pedophile!" 

"Calm down." Mori said, cool as ever. "Dazai-kun enjoys it when we are close like that. Go ahead, feel him. Don't you understand? He needs this." 

Chuuya looked over to Dazai for a second. Then he hit Mori in the face. 

"All of you are fucked up! All of you!" Chuuya hissed. Then he turned on his heel and walked to the entrance. 

Dazai rushed after him. "I'm sorry! I didn't want this!" he desperately tried to explain. 

"Shut up! You are scary!" Chuuya yelled. He quickly put on his shoes and ran out. Dazai didn't see, how his boyfriend, after he had run down the stair case, completely broke down. 

All Dazai could think was: now it's over. Should he follow Chuuya? Yes, this time he would have to fight! He didn't even change into his shoes, opening the door. Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder. It was Mori. 

"If Chuuya-kun tells anyone about this, I'll make sure his father finds out where he is. And I'll also make sure he will get into a foster family, far away from here." 

"How could you?" Dazai was on the verge of tears. "I hate you!" He slammed the door behind him. 

On the first floor, in the stair case, he found Chuuya. He was crouched down on the floor. As he noticed the other's presence he said: "Go away."

Dazai sat down next to him. "Look, I'm sorry. I didn't want this. I even told Mori-san to stop. But...but he didn't and now...now I feel really uncomfortable."

"You feel uncomfortable? You know what this looks like to me? Like you are satisfying your daddy issues and needs with that son of a bitch! You're truly fucked up in the head." Chuuya could be really mean. It hurt. And it hurt a lot. 

"T-that's not," the brunette tried again. It was in vein. 

Chuuya stood up. His eyes were red from crying. "I told you that the sensei is creepy! But you didn't want to listen. I now I know why! You liked it. You like it when he kissed you. I thought you were my boyfriend. Turns out you are just using me, because you are such a lonely loser. You have no friends and you're desperate enough to make out with your fucking mom's boyfriend. Honestly, Dazai-kun, this is too weird for me." he turned around to walk down the last stair case that let to the outside.

"Chuuya-kun..." Dazai whispered. Maybe he was right. Maybe really was a fucked up piece of shit. No, he definitely was. Everyone had always told him that. 

Had he really thought Chuuya would actually stay with him?
It had only been a matter of time before he realized how weird Dazai was. He was used to harsh words, insults — even to being spat on on a daily basis. But nothing had ever hurt as much as Chuuya’s words did. They cut deeper than all the bullying he had endured in his life combined.

How naïve he had been to think he could ever manage to be in a relationship. He was ugly, weird, worthless.
Now he had lost the one thing that had kept him from turning off the lights for good. Now, nothing mattered anymore. Chuuya would never come back to him after this. That much was certain.

For a while, Dazai cried. Then he stood up and took the elevator. He hated himself so much. God, it hurt.

When he got back to the apartment, he went straight to the fridge. He had no idea where his mother or Mori were — and he didn’t care at all. He grabbed a three-quarters-empty bottle of vodka and downed it in one go. For a second, it almost came back up. God, that was disgusting. Then he grabbed an opened bottle of red wine and gulped that down too. When he was done, he had to steady himself against the counter. His vision started to blur.
Would the pain inside him finally fade now?

Dazai sank to the floor and stared blankly ahead.

Then his mother appeared in front of him. She bent down, knelt beside him, and sniffed his breath.
“Babe, Dazai-kun’s totally drunk!” she called out.

It was Mori who helped him to his feet.
Mori who handed him a glass of water and sat with him on the couch.
And it was Mori who listened as Dazai slurred about how everything was over now.

Well — “slurred” was a stretch. It was mostly incoherent mumbling, interrupted by hiccups. He kept repeating the same words over and over again.

Mori held him in his arms. Where Dazai had been mad at the adult before, he now needed his embrace. His presence.

"Ah..'nd I..don' deserve..to-to be 'live." Dazai slurred. He looked up at Mori, who had a worried look on his face. 

"Please don't say that. You and Chuuya-kun will get this sorted out. Just don't say such things. I know you don't mean it." 

"I m-meannit..I should b-be dead..." the kid's head fell back onto the other's chest. 

Mori was glad that his cute little boy didn't seem to be mad at him anymore. Sure, he was drunk as hell, but still. When Dazai had said, he hated Mori, of course he hadn't meant it. And the doctor knew how much Dazai had enjoyed their little make-out session. Dazai had been completely wet. You were able to even feel it through the fabric of his pants. But Chuuya was a real problem. What if he told anyone about what he had seen? Mori needed to silence the redhead. Or make him forgive him. Yeah, that was probably the better option. After all, Mori wanted custody. He would buy Chuuya something expensive. Like a motorcycle. But wasn't he too young for that?

Whatever, Mori would surely find the right thing. And then he'd make up some bullshit. Tell the kid, how he was schizophrenic or had DID. Something like that. Things would work out. Right now Chuuya didn't have anyone to confine in anyways. And besides: he would have to come back sooner or later. After all this was the place he lived right now. Yes, Mori would sort things out. Because he always did. 

"If you say such things, I'm afraid I have to drive you to the mental hospital." Mori explained. If Dazai truly was suicidal, they would actually have to lock him somewhere safe. 

"Noo..." Dazai complained. He snuggled harder against Mori's chest. His hands were clasping onto the adult's shirt. 

They would wait for Chuuya to return. Mori would push the right buttons and e voilà! Things would go back to normal and they would move into that all new big house. 

Happy family. Fucked up family. 

Chapter Text

How could this be? Why the hell did this have to happen?

Chuuya walked briskly along the lamp-lit streets of Yokohama, fury burning in his chest. He felt like a fool. Betrayed. And yet, deep down, he knew none of this was really Dazai’s fault. Still, he was angry at him. Incredibly angry.

Sure, Dazai had never really been okay. But that couldn’t always be an excuse. You don’t kiss someone else when you’re in love.

Chuuya fought back the tears threatening to form at the corners of his eyes. Stay strong. Be a man, he told himself. But what he really wanted was to cry in someone’s arms. Too bad the only person he could imagine doing that with was Dazai — and Dazai was off-limits now. He was probably curled up against Mori’s chest right this very moment, complaining about how unfair the world was.

Yeah, Chuuya’s anger had reached new heights. In a narrow side alley, he slammed his fist against a wall. Then again. And again. His knuckles throbbed, and when he looked down, he saw blood. But it had to hurt. He needed an outlet for his rage.

How long had this thing between Mori and Dazai really been going on? Was it just that one kiss — the one Dazai had so shamefully confessed to? Well, actually, it had been Mori who told him about it. But that didn’t matter anymore.

Sure, Mori had been the one who kissed Dazai. But when Chuuya caught them about fifteen minutes ago, it had looked like Dazai was enjoying it. He had given in completely. He had cheated.

And as for Mori… he was a fucking pedophilic bastard! He should be locked up. Maybe Chuuya should go to the police. Maybe that would be the best thing to do.

Everything about this was so goddamn messed up, and Chuuya sighed as he started walking again.

Okay, let’s go over this one more time: Mori kissed Dazai — supposedly against his will. That’s what both of them had said.

Fact: Dazai idolized Mori. Literally. He only ever spoke positively about him. Mori must be manipulating him. He had to be. No one in their right mind would think so highly of that shady doctor. But then again, Dazai wasn’t in his right mind. He was a weird kid.  And that — that was what Chuuya loved about him. His strangeness. His difference. The way he was something special. Something you wanted to hold close, take care of, protect.

But this — this kind of strange — was too much for Chuuya. When he had seen them together, it felt like his heart had stopped. It hurt like hell. His Dazai. With that bastard. It was surreal — like a nightmare you wake up from, relieved it wasn’t real. Except this time, it was. This was reality. And then, to top it all off, Mori wanted to become Chuuya’s legal guardian. Yep. Totally clear now why he was so eager to “take care” of him.
Crystal. Clear.

He was perverted. 

What if Mori tried something with Chuuya, too? The thought sent a shiver down his spine. Disgusting.

But despite everything — despite all the twisted, sickening things — Chuuya couldn’t let go of his boyfriend. They belonged together. And he loved him. More than anything in the world.

Losing Dazai would be like losing the ability to breathe.
It would be like dying. And Chuuya wasn’t ready to die.

He had to win Dazai back. He had to make him see that Mori was evil — show him what his real, selfish motives were. But how?

Chuuya kicked an empty beer can, and it rolled a few meters down the sidewalk. Maybe he had to do this the hard way. Get through to Dazai by sheer persistence — talk to him, push him, repeat himself until Dazai finally understood.

But would that even work?

Chuuya had to try. He’d done things the gentle way before, and well… everyone knew how that had turned out.

One way or another, Chuuya had to act.

Besides, he would confront Mori directly. Threaten him. If that bastard didn’t keep his filthy hands off Dazai, then Chuuya would go straight to the police. An ultimatum — simple as that.

Yes, that was it. An ultimatum.

Mori or me. That’s what Chuuya would tell his boyfriend, flat and cold. You decide.

Of course, it would only be a façade. There was no way Chuuya could actually leave the love of his life. Never. But he was sure Dazai would choose him anyway. One hundred percent. Ten thousand percent.

Every few minutes, the image of that kiss forced its way back into his mind — like it had burned itself into his brain.

Chuuya saw how Mori had one hand around Dazai’s waist, the other between the boy’s legs. Mori had looked so greedy — as if Dazai belonged to him. As if he owned him.
And Dazai? He had seemed to enjoy it. The moans leaving his mouth said it all. The way his body had twitched, the way his hand had clutched the man’s shirt.

Fuck! This had to end now.

Chuuya hated Mori. Hated him with every fiber of his being. He was one of those men who preyed on kids — manipulating them just so they could use them as they pleased. The worst kind of person.

How could anyone possibly be attracted to a kid? Unless, of course, they were a kid themselves. It was absolutely wrong.

But Mori was dating Hinata. Which meant he wasn’t only into kids. Oh man, Chuuya couldn’t begin to understand how people like that thought. His own head felt like it was about to explode — blood and brains matter splattering all over the pavement. Boom!

From the very beginning, Chuuya had had a bad feeling about Mori. His gut instinct almost never lied.

He reached a main street. Cars streamed past, crossing a massive intersection. Neon lights from shops and restaurants glowed harshly against the darkness of the night. Chuuya’s gaze fell on the couples waiting hand in hand for the light to turn green. And then a dark thought crept into his mind — though, really, it was more of a sad one.
What if he could never have a normal relationship with Dazai?

They had only just started dating, and already his boyfriend had cheated on him. What else was waiting down the road? What exactly had Chuuya gotten himself into?

Love. That’s what.

And maybe this was part of it — the whole package. Through good times and bad. You went through everything together.

Maybe this was normal. Somehow, in a strange way, that thought comforted Chuuya. Surely every couple went through rough patches now and then. Maybe not this exact kind of thing, but something similar. It had to be that way.

The light turned green, and Chuuya made his way back toward the neighborhood where Dazai lived. He had no other choice. He couldn’t go home — not under any circumstances. The police had been there. His father would kill him. No doubt about it. The best thing would be never to see him again. What would Verlaine think about all this, anyway? Probably nothing. He wouldn’t care. Nothing that concerned his little brother ever mattered to him. He only thought about himself — about his perfect life.

But the closer Chuuya got to the towering apartment block, the stronger the urge to turn around became. Just run. But he couldn’t. He was old enough to know better. He would have to hold himself together — resist the overwhelming urge to punch Mori in the face. That would be the hardest part.

No. That wasn’t true. The hardest part would be convincing Dazai of the doctor’s true nature.

His finger trembled as he pressed the doorbell.
It wouldn’t even take a minute until the big confrontation began.
But like he’d already told himself — Nakahara Chuuya had no other choice.

When the apartment door finally opened, it was Hinata who stood there.
She held a glass of red wine in her hand, wearing a tight top with a deep neckline and a short skirt. So basically, she looked like always.

But who was Chuuya to judge how an adult woman dressed?
Besides, her tactic had worked — she’d managed to snag a rich man who did everything for her.
Including… certain things with her son.

“Chuuuuya-kun…” Hinata slurred, clearly drunk. “Dazai-kun… he’s not doin’ so well.”

Oh great. Just what he’d expected. Most likely, the brunette thought Chuuya had left him for good. To be fair, it had looked that way. His words had been harsh, but in that moment, he simply hadn’t been capable of acting any other way.

The boy stepped into the apartment, and his eyes immediately fell on the kitchen table.
Dazai and Mori sat side by side — and the man was gently stroking Dazai’s hand.

Don’t lose it, Chuuya repeated to himself over and over. Then he walked toward them, as confidently as he could manage. First thing first — he’d deal with Mori.

“Mori-sensei. I want to talk to you. Come with me.” It sounded almost like an order.

Mori turned to look at him and nodded, standing up without protest.

It felt good — that sudden sense of power. For once, Chuuya had something on this man. For once, he was the one in control.

The two of them walked into Hinata’s bedroom. Which, admittedly, felt strange. Then Chuuya began — with the words he had carefully prepared on his way here.

„I’ll get straight to the point. You are a pedophile. You kissed a fourteen year old. Barley even fourteen. But I’m sure you know that, and I’m sure that turns your perverted mind on. I’ll make this very clear: Dazai-kun is my boyfriend. I don’t know what got into your disgusting mind making you think you can just kiss and…touch him. This will stop.“ Chuuya was a little out of breath now. But he was proud of he must’ve seemed. Confident and determined.

„Chuuya-kun.“ Mori put a hand on the boy’s shoulder, who immediately flinched back. „I know, how this must seem. But I can explain. I didn’t…god, this is really hard for me to talk about.“

What the fuck? Was was this man going to say now? What possible excuse could he have for his behavior?

Mori continued. „I…okay, I’ll just tell you everything.“ His gaze seemed a little distorted. He looked at Chuuya but he didn’t look at him. It was kind of scary. This expression was totally new to him. „I don’t know how much you know about psychology, so I’ll try to keep it simple. When I was a little boy, I got abused by a relative. I was only six years old. The abuse continued throughout my entire childhood. I never spoke to anyone about it until I was an adult. I was too terrified. It was mental and physical. Sexual. I-I...“

Okay, wow. He was playing victim now. His little sob story about his childhood would not make Chuuya get weak. No way. His childhood had been terrible too and he didn't turn out a fucking creep. 

„And this justifies kissing Dazai-kun?“ Chuuya raised his eyebrows. This whole conversation felt so bizarre. 

„Listen, because of the trauma I developed several mental issues. Most of them I have under control now. I really do. Otherwise I wouldn’t be able to be a surgeon, right?“ A smile played on his lips, but it was a sad smile. Comic relief had to be it. „I have DID. You probably know it under the name of ‚multiple personality disorder‘. Luckily I don't have a lot of different personalities. One of them is a fifteen year old boy. Something triggered this part of my brain. I thought in that moment: ‚who is this boy my age? We seem really close. I think he might be my boyfriend.’ So I kissed Dazai. You know how boys your age are. They take every chance.“ 

I don’t take every chance, Chuuya thought. But what if this was the truth? Lying about something like that would be extremely morbid. But with Mori…you never really knew to be honest. Sure, he was a bad person, no doubt. But would he make something so harsh that up right on the spot like that? That would be truly fucked up. But then again, this entire day had been fucked up as hell. 

„And you really think I’m gonna believe that?“ Chuuya tried to come of as suspicious. Well, he was suspicious. 

„Chuuya-kun,“ Mori now seemed desperate. He looked down for a second, then back into the kid’s eyes. „I can prove it. I have all the documents regarding this. They go back so many years, it makes me feel old.“ Another joke. Alright. 

The redhead thought for a moment. If the doctor could really prove it, was he to blame for the kiss? What he said made sense and Chuuya had once watched one or two  documentaries about DID. It’s terrible illness. 

“I thought I’d be able to live a normal life. I really did. I thought things would get better with Hinata-chan. I’m such an idiot.”
Mori wiped a hand over his face.
“I wanted all of this so badly, you know? I never had a real family, and I thought finally… finally I was going to have what I’ve wanted my entire life. But it’s always the same. My illness ruins everything. How could I be so stupid?”

He sounded like he was mostly talking to himself. But there was honesty in his voice — a raw, painful sincerity that couldn’t be faked. The words came straight from his heart. You could feel it.

“And… and was that how it was during your first kiss too?” asked Chuuya. His tone was less suspicious now, more curious.

“Yes, that’s exactly how it was, Chuuya-kun. But honestly, I didn’t want to tell the truth because… because it’s so damn embarrassing. I’m so ashamed of this illness. I just feel like… I’m not really one of you. Like I’m only pretending to be human.”

Mori’s eyes were glassy. Then a single lonely tear rolled down his cheek — one he quickly wiped away.
It was clearly hard for him to talk about this. Mori was a doctor, not an actor, and the drama playing out in front of them felt painfully real.

Chuuya had no idea what to say. He had so many questions. What was it like to live with such an illness? Slowly, he began to feel guilty for having judged the man so harshly.
Mori had done everything for Dazai and Hinata. He’d even wanted to buy them a house. He came over for dinner often, cooked himself, and seemed to genuinely love Hinata. You could see it in his eyes when he kissed her.
He just wanted a family. That was probably why he wanted to adopt Chuuya too — he simply wanted everyone to be happy.

“I think it’s best if I end all this,” Mori said quietly. “I don’t want to hurt you any more than I already have. I think I’m just in the way. Hina-chan deserves someone better than me. Someone who isn’t crazy.” His voice trembled. You could hear how desperately he was trying to keep himself together. Honestly, it was just… sad.

“Hey, don’t say that.” Chuuya reached out and stroked the man’s arm. “It’s not your fault. You always try so hard to make things right.”
He wanted to make up for having insulted Mori in his thoughts — for having hated him so much. The man was mentally ill, after all, and apparently, it was one of the worst kinds of illnesses there was.
At least, that’s what Chuuya believed.

“No… it’s better if I don’t come back. I only bring pain and trouble. That’s how it’s always been. And besides, you surely don’t want a lunatic to become your guardian.”
Mori lowered his gaze again.

“That’s not true. Really.”
Now that Chuuya knew the truth, everything looked different. And honestly, being taken in by the doctor had always been the best option anyway.
“I just thought that… well, I didn’t know your story. I’m sorry I judged you.” He said it through gritted teeth — admitting he was wrong had never been easy for him.

“That’s kind of you, Chuuya-kun. But I think I should talk to Hana-chan now… and break up with her.”

Another tear rolled down Mori’s face. It was strange — only his eyes cried. The rest of his face remained calm, composed.
But everyone had their own way of crying.

“Come on, sit down.” Chuuya sat down on Hinata’s bed and patted the spot next to him. Now he felt like the adult.

Mori hesitated for a moment, but then sat down.
Chuuya looked at him.
“Don’t break up with Dazai’s mother. She really loves you. And Dazai-kun needs you too. He doesn’t have a father, and I can tell how much he looks up to you. He really likes you, and I think his whole world would fall apart if you left.” He paused for a second. Then, quietly, almost whispering: “And I need you too.”

For a brief moment, silence filled the room.

“Do you really mean that?” Mori asked at last, nervously playing with the sleeve of his shirt.

Chuuya nodded. “A hundred percent.”

“I don’t want my girlfriend or Dazai-kun to see that I’ve been crying. I need to be strong for them,” Mori admitted.

“Don’t worry!” Chuuya said softly, brushing his fingers beneath the man’s eyes. “You can’t tell at all!”

“Please promise me this stays between us,” Mori said. “I think I need more time before I can tell them about my illness. I’m not ready to open up like that yet. But with you… I had to.”

“I promise,” Chuuya said with a small smile. And in that moment, he knew everything was going to be okay.
But when it came to Dazai, something still didn’t feel right. Mori hadn’t manipulated him — of that, Chuuya was now certain. But Dazai hadn’t resisted that second kiss either. The thought made the teenager’s stomach tighten.

He decided to ask Mori for advice. Somehow, the two of them had formed a new kind of bond — closer, more trusting. Chuuya felt like he could talk to the man about anything.

“What about Dazai-kun?” he asked.

“What do you mean?” Mori already looked much calmer. Yes, he was a good person. All of this had been one big misunderstanding — and that realization was a relief for Chuuya.

“I mean about the whole kissing thing. When I saw you two, it looked like Dazai-kun wanted it.”

“Listen, it's very complicated,” Mori said, turning a little more toward the other. “Dazai-kun doesn’t have a father. He doesn’t know how to act around adult men who care about him. It confuses him. I can tell how much he craves my closeness — but believe me, that doesn’t invalidate his love for you. I’ll make sure he understands that his behavior isn’t appropriate. To be honest, it makes me uncomfortable too. I’m happy to be a father figure for Dazai-kun, but he needs to learn what healthy distance and affection look like.”

Yes, that made perfect sense. How could Dazai possibly know what a father–son relationship was supposed to look like? He had never had one before. 

“I get it,” Chuuya said, standing up. “Should we go back?”

Mori smiled and nodded. They headed for the door.

“If you ever have questions or worries, you can always come to me,” Mori said. “Just because I’m a little… off in the head doesn’t mean I can’t help you. No matter what it’s about.”

“Thank you, Mori-san.”

…

Hinata refilled her glass with red wine. She had been drinking again that evening — but how could she not? Her son had been crying nonstop, and her boyfriend hadn’t given her the slightest bit of attention all night.
Everything was always about Dazai! It was exhausting.

Okay, sure — she and Mori had already slept together earlier that day. But Hinata was the kind of woman who drew her sense of validation from sex.

My boyfriend still wants me. He needs me — and my body.

Mori, meanwhile, had been sitting with her son on the sofa for about an hour and a half, trying to comfort him.
Hinata sat at the kitchen table, drinking — topping off her glass here and there. Her vision was far too blurry to actually read the Vogue magazine lying open in front of her.
Now that she had a wealthy boyfriend, she wanted to start doing the kinds of things women with rich men did. Reading Vogue, for instance. She wanted to be that kind of woman. She’d always wanted that.

At some point, Mori had called out to her:
“Baby, could you come here, please?”
God, Hinata loved it when Mori called her baby. It sounded so soft, so affectionate coming from his lips.

Of course, she had initially gotten together with Mori because he was a surgeon and made a ton of money — and, of course, because of his ridiculously good looks.
But lately, Hinata had noticed that she was starting to fall for him. It wasn’t superficial anymore.
Yes, she was falling head over heels for Mori Ōgai — the man who, according to him, desired her son. But Hinata didn’t care. None of it mattered, as long as Mori would one day drop to his knees in front of her.
To marry her — not to go down on her. Which, by the way, he was extremely good at. 

Hinata stood up, wine glass in hand; once she had taken that first sip, it was impossible for her to put it down.
“What is it?”

“I wanted to get your opinion as Dazai-kun’s mother,” Mori said calmly. “He’s been saying he wants to die. Should we take him to a psychiatric hospital, just to be safe?”

A psychiatric hospital? That was completely over the top.
Mori had briefly explained to her earlier what had happened — no wonder her useless son was making such a big scene.

“I don’t think that’s necessary,” Hinata said coldly. “He just needs to stop acting like a baby.”

Mori looked at her, worried.

Hinata leaned down toward Dazai, who was still clinging tightly to her boyfriend.
“You hear that, Dazai-kun? Pull yourself together.”

“Sweetheart, please,” Mori whispered.
Why did he always have to take everything so seriously? Maybe because he was a doctor — or maybe just because he was such a caring, sensitive man.

Hinata shrugged and turned away, sitting back down to focus on the bottle of wine waiting for her.
A psychiatric hospital? Ha! The thought was almost amusing.
Still, it was tempting — getting rid of her son for a while.
Then she could have Mori all to herself.

When the doorbell rang, it was Chuuya who appeared moments later at the door.
Hinata actually liked the boy — more than her own son, if she was honest. The cute red-haired boy with the delicate features was so well-mannered and uncomplicated. He never caused trouble. Always so polite.

When she invited him in, Hinata realized just how drunk she was.
Something greasy to eat would have done her good, but she had to watch her figure — one of the few things she actually liked about herself.

She was a bit surprised when Mori and Chuuya disappeared into her bedroom, but whatever! In her drunken haze, she sank down next to her son on the sofa.

Dazai’s eyes were still wet. He’d been crying almost nonstop — calming down for a few minutes, only to start sobbing again.

“Lemme tell you somethin’…” Hinata slurred. “Stop hangin’ around Mori all the time.”

Dazai looked up at her with wide eyes. Sometimes she was jealous of those eyes — so big, so striking. When he had still been a girl, he could have made something of himself. What a waste.

“Are ya deaf?” Hinata gripped the back of the sofa for balance.

“I’m sorry,” Dazai muttered, looking down. “I’m just… really sad about Chuuya-kun.”

“Stop throwin’ yourself at my man. He’s mine, got it?” Hinata grabbed her son by the collar and yanked him toward her. He squeezed his eyes shut, trembling.

That Hinata Osamu had turned out just like her husband — the man she despised so deeply — was one of the many reasons Hinata drowned herself in alcohol.
She hadn’t become even a bit better than Jirō.
Even if she was far less violent than he had been.
So yes, there was still a difference — a matter of degree, not of kind.

Just as she was about to start yelling at the boy, Chuuya and Mori suddenly appeared before them.

“What’s going on?” Mori asked, taking Dazai by the arm and pulling him up — probably to protect him from Hinata.
And honestly, she wasn’t even sure herself if she’d really meant to hit Dazai. She had just drunken far too much. Like usual.

Chuuya broke through the tense silence by turning toward Dazai.
“I’m sorry for being so mean,” he said, wrapping his arms around his boyfriend. “I acted like a real idiot.”

Even though Hinata liked Chuuya, she just couldn’t accept that he was gay. Or whatever he called himself. Didn’t matter. But a man with another man? That was wrong. Period. End of story.

Mori sat down beside her while Dazai and Chuuya continued to hug. Were they planning to do that for the rest of the night?

“Sweetheart, you’re very drunk,” Mori said gently. “Come on, I’ll order you something to eat and then take you to bed.”
He rested his hand on her thigh. She was too drunk for sex, but the gesture still turned her on instantly.

Hinata pulled her boyfriend closer and kissed him. She didn’t care that the two teenagers were standing right next to them — they were too busy with each other anyway.
She took Mori’s hand and placed it on her breast. 

But Mori broke off the kiss. “I don’t want to — you know — not when you’re this drunk. That wouldn’t be consent.”

Holy shit. Mori was such a good person. Such a perfect man.

He took out his phone, opened Uber Eats, and handed it to her. “Get anything you like,” he said, kissing her on the cheek before standing up. “I’m gonna go have a smoke. Be right back.”

“Go to your room!” Hinata ordered the boys, and they obeyed — as they should.

“Are you feeling better now?” Chuuya asked once the two of them were lying on the bed, facing each other.
He gently brushed his fingers across Dazai’s face. He was so beautiful — too beautiful not to see it himself. What a pity he didn’t.

“Yeah… I just…” Dazai hesitated. “I was scared. That you might… leave me.”

“I’m so sorry. You know, I really misunderstood everything. I mean — you don’t have a dad, and I get how much you like Mori. I just don’t want you to like him more than me, okay?”
Chuuya kissed Dazai’s forehead.

“That’s impossible. I couldn’t like anyone the way I like you,” Dazai said — almost proudly. It was unbelievably sweet.

Chuuya pulled him closer. They lay there, bodies pressed together, hearts syncing. But Chuuya knew this wasn’t the moment for anything more. His boyfriend had already been through so much today.

“I can’t wait for when we live together soon,” Chuuya said instead.

“Me neither. I’m so excited. Then we’ll always be together. I think I…”
Dazai trailed off, then lifted his head from Chuuya’s chest to look him in the eyes.

Chuuya’s breath caught. His heart raced. His gut told him something special was coming — something that mattered.

Dazai’s pupils flickered slightly as he held Chuuya’s gaze. “I think I love you,” he whispered after what felt like forever.

The words that changed everything had finally been spoken — and Chuuya was now officially the happiest boy in all of Japan.
“I love you too.”

They kissed.

Just as Chuuya’s hand slipped down to squeeze Dazai’s ass, they heard loud screams from the kitchen.

Both of them sat up instantly. Dazai’s eyes filled with panic.

“It’s him,” he said.

Chapter Text

“I’m only here to talk,” said the man standing at the apartment door.
Mori looked down at the stranger. He was shorter than him. What was that supposed to mean? Without context, that was a very vague statement.

“Who are you?” Mori asked, making no move to let the man inside.

“I’m Dazai-chan’s father. Jirō Osamu. Nice to meet you.” The man bowed.

Mori frowned. So this was Dazai’s father. He looked completely run-down — a drunk through and through. How could Hinata, a beautiful woman like her, ever have been with such a loser? He was way out of her league. Hinata was a ten out of ten after all. 

“I’m sorry, but you’re not welcome here,” Mori said, crossing his arms. “If you show up again, I’ll call the police.”

“Oh yeah? And you are?” Now Jirō seemed to be trying to provoke him. Fine. Let him.

“I’m Hina-chan’s boyfriend. She doesn’t want to see you again. Ever. Neither does your son.” Mori looked down on him with contempt. The man couldn’t hold a candle to him in any way.

“I have a daughter,” said Jirō, sounding genuinely confused now.

“You really have no idea. This isn’t your family anymore. So leave. It's really inappropriate to just show up and expect everyone to welcome you with open arms. Hina-chan has a new life now. And she doesn't need you in it.”

“I’m not going anywhere! I want to see my daughter! That’s my right — I’m her father!” Jirō’s voice rose, tense and raw. The smell of whiskey clung to his breath.

Suddenly, Mori felt someone behind him. It was Hinata.

“Jirō-san?” she said, her voice full of shock.

“Where is my daughter?” Jirō demanded. He took a step toward Mori, but Mori shoved him back — not hard enough to make him fall, but enough to make him stumble before regaining his balance.

“How dare you fucking touch me?!” Jirō yelled and swung his arm at the other man, but his movements were slow, sloppy. Mori easily caught his wrist and twisted it. Jirō’s face contorted in pain. “Let me go!” he growled.

“Leave,” Hinata whispered. “Get out right now.” Her voice was cold.

“You don’t tell me what to do!” Jirō spat, still struggling against Mori’s grip. "You ruined my life! You took my only child away from me, you stupid woman!" 

Hinata's voice grew slightly louder now. "You were the one who ruined everything." She was right.

"You're not allowed to talk back to me!" Jiro shouted. 

“Yes, she is. This is her apartment, and you have no right to be here. So fuck off. And be ashamed of your pathetic existence.” Mori’s tone was calm, measured — then he took a step back and slammed the door in Jirō’s face.

Moments later, the pounding began. Fists hammered against the wood, and Jirō screamed that he wanted to see his daughter. Mori pulled Hinata close.

“Come, sweetheart,” he said softly, running a hand through her hair and taking her by the hand. “Sit on the couch. I’ll make you some tea.”

Hinata obeyed silently. It was as if she’d sobered up in an instant. The banging and yelling continued from the hallway, echoing through the walls. Sooner or later, Jirō would give up. He couldn’t go on like that forever.

“Mori-san?” Dazai suddenly stood beside him, looking up with wide eyes. Those eyes… Mori could lose himself in them for hours. “What… what is happening?”

Chuuya stood close behind the brunette, holding his hand.

“It’s your father,” Mori explained calmly. “But don’t worry. Everything will be fine. He’ll leave soon.”

“Shouldn’t we call the police?” Chuuya asked. “That guy’s insane.”

“If he doesn’t leave within fifteen minutes, we will, Chuuya-kun,” Mori said as he poured the tea into a cup.

And indeed — the pounding stopped.

What none of them knew, however, was that Jirō would come back. He would wait for the right moment. And he was absolutely certain he’d find it.

-

Dazai sat in the classroom five minutes early. Most of the students were already there. He couldn’t stop thinking about yesterday—especially last night. First the kiss with Mori, then the fight with Chuuya, and as if that hadn’t been enough, his father had shown up at their door, causing a scene. Lost in thought, he chewed nervously on his lower lip until the teacher clapped his hands.

“All right, let’s begin class. But first, I want to introduce a new student.”

Dazai looked up. Standing beside Mr. Tachiki was a boy with silver hair and a questionable haircut. The teacher continued, “This is Nakajima Atsushi. Starting today, he’ll be joining our class, so please be nice to him.”

The new boy bowed and smiled, looking nervous. Maybe, Dazai thought, now that someone new was here, the others would finally leave him alone. Then again, he wouldn’t wish bullying on anyone—not even his worst enemy. Though, sometimes, he caught himself wishing the roles were reversed.

“Please take that seat next to Dazai-san,” Mr. Tachiki said, pointing at the empty desk next to Dazai’s. Of course it was empty. No one ever wanted to sit next to a loser like him. Atsushi sat down, and the lesson began.

Unlike Chuuya—who was in gym class right now—the rest of the students didn’t seem too interested in the new kid. One boy asked where he had transferred from; a girl wanted to know something else. Dazai only half-listened. His mind was elsewhere. There was just so much going on in his life right now. He constantly had to think about his father. Would he really leave them alone? Probably not. What would've happened if he managed to get inside the apartment? Luckily he didn't know Dazai was his son. Because he was still convinced he had a daughter. 

Then, suddenly, someone slammed their hands on Dazai's desk, snapping him out of his thoughts. They’d had a double period, and now it was the long recess break. It was none other than Tachihara. Of course. Not a single day went by without them bothering him. Not one.

“Come with us. We’ve got a surprise for you,” Tachihara grinned.

A surprise. Dazai already knew what that meant. He could only imagine what Tachihara and Dostojevsky had come up with this time. Something degrading and mean. As always. They loved making a fool of him. 

Knowing there was no point in resisting, Dazai got up. Atsushi glanced at him curiously as he followed Tachihara out of the room and toward his locker. That Russian boy was already waiting there—just as expected.

“Go on. Open it,” Dostojevsky ordered.

Dazai sighed. He was tired. So damn tired of all of it. He couldn’t wait to finally leave this awful school next year and start over in high school.

He took out his key, slid it into the little lock, and opened the door. The entire inside was filled with shaving foam. Completely stuffed.

Tachihara burst out laughing. Compared to what they usually did to him, this wasn’t that bad. It would just be annoying to clean up. Still, most of his books and notebooks were now soaked in white foam. It was all so completely pointless. Something inside Dazai shifted. He wasn’t close to tears—quite the opposite. He turned around.

“What’s so funny about that?” he asked, surprised that his voice didn’t tremble. “Seriously! I’ve got enough problems already. Just stop this crap!”

The other two exchanged amused looks.

“Well, that’s brave of you,” Dostojevsky said mockingly. “But come on, it’s obvious you’ve got problems. You don't need to tell us that. We just wanted to brighten your day a little.”

Yeah, this time things were different.
Dazai glared at Tachihara, anger burning behind his eyes. “Oh yeah? And why is that so obvious to you? You don’t know anything about my life!” He didn’t care anymore. Compared to what was happening at home, this felt almost trivial.

“Seriously? Just look at yourself,” Tachihara sneered. “You’re pathetic. Everyone knows you cut yourself for attention. That's so fucking embarrassing! And you think you’re a boy. Wich is just simply hilarious. Because you're obviously not.” He was trying to provoke Dazai—that much was obvious.

“I don’t care what you think. Just leave me alone. You’re both pathetic.” The words hurt, but Dazai wouldn't grow weak at them today. So he slammed his locker door shut and turned to walk away. He’d deal with the mess later. Right now, he just couldn’t handle it.

But before he could take another step, Dostojevsky grabbed him by the throat and slammed him against the locker wall. His fingers tightened around Dazai’s neck—hard. He couldn’t breathe.

“I don’t like the way you’re talking to us,” Dostojevsky hissed. “Apologize.”

For a second, Dazai’s vision blurred to black. Then the Russian released him, though he kept his arm pressed firmly against his chest, pinning him in place. Dazai’s throat burned, and he gasped for air, coughing as he struggled to breathe normally again.

“Go on—apologize,” Tachihara ordered.
Why was there never a teacher around when something like this happened? It was like some kind of curse.

But Dazai refused. Why should he apologize for standing up for himself—for once? He shook his head weakly. “Forget it.” His voice was hoarse and dry.

Dostojevsky grabbed him by the collar, yanked him forward, then slammed him back against the metal. The sound echoed down the hallway. Maybe now someone would come. “Do it. Apologize—and kiss my shoes.”

Dazai’s head throbbed from the impact. That one had hurt. But he wouldn’t give in. “No.”

A strange expression spread across Dostojevsky’s face—something between amusement and cruelty. “Fine then. You’re coming with us to the bathroom.” His tone dripped with sadism.

Dazai froze. He knew exactly what that meant. He didn’t want to go. No—he couldn’t go through that again. He’d rather kiss their filthy shoes, throw away his pride, anything but that.

“I’m sorry!” Dazai now said desperately.

“Too late,” Tachihara said casually, shrugging. “We were nice enough to give you a chance. You should’ve listened. Too bad you never learn. Too bad for you. Not for us. We really enjoy taking you to the bathroom.”

There was no way out. Dazai felt sick. His throat burned, his head pounded, and bile rose in his stomach. Still, he followed his tormentors toward the boys’ bathroom. He thought he might throw up at any second.

Where was Chuuya? If only he were here right now. But he wasn’t. Nobody was here to help him. 

“Please… can’t we settle this another way?” Dazai asked softly. It was worth a try.

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you, you little slut,” Tachihara spat. Then he yanked Dazai closer by the waist, grinning cruelly. “I’m going first, yeah?” He glanced at Dostojevsky, who simply nodded—and waited by the door outside the bathroom.

„Please! I don’t want this!“ Dazai begged, as he felt a hand on his ass. „I don’t want it….“. Tears started forming in his eyes. This felt like dying.

„Trust me, you want this. And it’s your fault anyway. Come on now.“ Tachihara dragged the brunette in one of the stalls. He pushed Dazai against the wall and forced his tongue into his mouth. Yes, Dazai was dying. Hopefully Chuuya, Mori and his Mom would remember him. Miss him. 

The boy tried to think of something else. Sometimes it worked, but this time he wasn’t able to mentally go to a different place. He just couldn't escape this hell, felt his pants being pulled down. Felt cold fingers inside him. Fingers that hadn't been washed, nails not cut and that didn’t care how much this hurt. 

Then he was being turned around. And soon after he felt how the other was inside of him. It hurt, because he wasn’t wet at all. His body didn’t want this. And that's why it hurt so much more. Every thrust felt like torture. And the worst part: he would have to endure this again right after Tachihara would have finished. Dazai whimpered. He should’ve screamed for help, but his words couldn’t form words. All he could do, was to cry. He felt like a whore. Just like his mother used to be. 

When Tachihara was done and pulled out, Dazai sank to the cold floor. Turns out he didn’t die. But he wanted to. Everything hurt. Tachihara spat on him before leaving the stall. Now it was time for round number two, but nobody came. Had Dostojevski changed his mind? Perhaps. 

Eventually Dazai got up. He tucked his shirt back into his trousers, tightened his belt and left the bathroom. 

For a while, he just stood there in the hallway, staring blankly ahead.
He could still feel it—inside him. In every part of his body.
He was nothing but a heap of misery.

“Dazai-san?”
It was the principal. The next class must have already started long ago.
“Is everything all right?”

Dazai looked up at Koyou with tear-stained eyes. He didn’t realize that the bruises around his neck were visible.
“Sorry,” he muttered. He assumed he was about to get scolded for loitering in the hallway during class.

“Dazai-san, is everything all right?” Koyou asked again, her voice filled with concern. “What are you doing out here?”

Dazai looked up at her, his expression vacant, traumatized. But no words came out. He simply couldn’t speak.

“Come on, we’re going to see the school counselor,” Koyou said gently, leading the way.
Dazai followed in silence. He was worthless—an object to be used and then discarded.

He had been to the counselor’s office many times before, but he didn’t like her. She had never really helped him.
She was one of those teachers who still treated him like a girl. Who acted like he was mentally challenged. 

They entered the small office, and Dazai sat down.
Koyou didn’t leave the room—quite the opposite. She pulled up a chair and put it right next to the counselor’s desk. She sat down and kept her gaze fixed on the boy. Her worry was genuine.

“What happened?” asked Ms. Yamada.

Koyou didn’t take her eyes off Dazai. “I don’t know. I found him in the hallway. I think… something happened. He seems like he is mentally not in the here and now.”

“Dazai-san, what happened?” Ms. Yamada leaned forward slightly. But Dazai couldn’t answer. He still felt it—so vividly, so disgustingly present in his body.
He felt filthy. Worthless. And his mouth, his throat—his voice—refused to cooperate.

“What is that on your neck?” the principal asked. Her eyebrows furrowed in concern.

No answer.

Ms. Yamada tucked a strand of her brown hair behind her ear. “There must’ve been a fight. We should contact his mother.”

Koyou nodded. “Please do.”

The counselor dialed Hinata’s number, but she didn’t pick up. However, Mori had left his private number on file the last time he visited. So they tried calling him instead.
He answered immediately—and promised he was on his way.

The two women continued trying to get something out of Dazai, any clue at all—but he didn’t respond. He didn’t even touch the glass of water they’d placed in front of him.

Then, there was a knock and shortly after the door opened.
“Hello,” Mori said politely, bowing slightly.

Both women stood up and returned the gesture.

“Something happened to your son,” Koyou explained. “I found him in the hallway when he should’ve been in class. He won’t talk to us.”

Mori nodded, then crouched down beside Dazai. “Hey, it’s me. Everything’s all right now. What happened?”

Even though Dazai felt utterly horrible, seeing Mori brought a faint sense of relief. It loosened the tightness in his chest just a little.

“I… don’t want to talk about it,” Dazai said weakly. His voice trembled. It was humiliating. He could never put into words what Tachihara had done to him.

“What happened to your neck?” Mori’s fingers brushed over the red marks. “Who did this to you?”

“We don’t know,” Ms. Yamada said helplessly.

Mori stood up and turned to face the two women.
“Can you please explain to me,” he said sharply, “how it’s possible that my son has been bullied ever since he started at this school—and no one has done anything about it? You clearly don’t take this seriously enough. Are you not aware that those are strangulation marks on his neck? Another student did this to him. And if he’s too afraid to speak to you about it, then as his counselor, you have utterly failed in your duty.”

Both women looked utterly stunned — as if they hadn’t expected such an outburst, though it was entirely justified.

“It’s… it’s very difficult to deal with cases like this,” Ms. Yamada stammered, trying to defend herself. “Most of the teachers don’t even notice when these things happen.”

“I don’t care,” Mori replied coldly. “It’s your job to notice. And my son is clearly not safe in this school. How can you fail this badly? Do you have any idea what Dazai-kun goes through every single day just because he’s different? Do you know how often he cries because he thinks he’s worthless? Don't you get it? His traumatic experiences in school will have effects on his for his entire life. This could've been prevented. It should've been. But it seems as if everyone in this school prefers looking away, than dealing with someone who clearly needs help.” Mori’s voice stayed calm, but the anger underneath was sharp — controlled, deliberate, dangerous. He didn’t need to raise his voice to make them feel it.

“Please, you have to understand…” Ms. Yamada’s face turned bright red, while Koyou simply looked down, too ashamed to speak.
Good, Mori thought. She should feel ashamed.

“Come on, Dazai-kun.” Mori’s voice softened, but his words cut through the tense air. “I’m going to take legal action against this school. Enough is enough.”
Whether he truly meant it or not, neither woman could tell.

“Please — we’ll find a solution!” Ms. Yamada pleaded now, almost desperate. "We are so sorry your son had to go through this. But we will take action. I promise!" 

But Dazai had already stood up. He took Mori’s hand without a word.
The two left the office, walking silently down the empty halls until they reached Mori’s black Mercedes, parked in the teacher’s lot.

As they drove off school grounds, Mori finally asked, “What happened? You can tell me anything.”

“I… I…” Dazai stammered. He knew it would be best to talk about it — but the words were trapped inside him, buried under shame and pain.
“They… they did something to me,” he whispered, tears spilling down his cheeks. “You know what I mean.”
He just hoped Mori would understand without needing to say it aloud.

Mori’s fist slammed against the steering wheel, and Dazai flinched at the sound.
“I’m going to sue your school administration,” Mori said through gritted teeth. “And you’re changing schools. I don’t ever want you to set foot in that place again.”

How could someone be so kind? No one had ever stood up for Dazai like that. And Mori had found the perfect words. He was fighting for the kid — truly fighting. Hinata had never cared about the bullying. She had even blamed her son for it. When he came home crying, she sighed and told him to fuck off. 
But Mori… Mori cared.
He was genuinely hurt by what had happened and was ready to do whatever it took to give Dazai a better life.

“Dazai-kun?” Mori glanced at the boy briefly before turning his eyes back to the road. “This wasn’t the first time, was it?”

Dazai nodded. This has happened before. Mori understood — even without words. Without this man, Dazai would have been completely lost.

“No,” Mori said firmly. “You’re never going back there. Not ever again.”

Slowly, Dazai felt his lungs loosen, his breathing steady. He felt like his pain was justified. Understood. Yes, he felt safe. And the thought of never having to go back to that school — it was like a weight lifting off his chest.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“There’s no need to thank me,” Mori said gently. “That’s what a father is for.”

Father.
A father protected his child.
A father was steady, strong — a rock in the storm.
So much better than a mother could ever be.

When they got home, they both sat down on the couch. Mori pulled Dazai close, holding him. “Do you want to tell me what exactly happened?” he asked softly.

The truth was, that Mori wanted to hear about what had happened in detail. Because it aroused him. He felt how the kid cuddled against him. Dazai smelled so good. So young and innocent. 

„Ah..I don’t know…“ Dazai replied. He wrapped both arms around Mori. It was as if he never wanted to let him go. So incredibly adorable. 

„Look, it’s important to speak about those things. We don’t want you getting nightmares over it, do we?“

Dazai seemed to think about that for a while then he said: „they put foam in my locker. Everything in there is ruined…I think. I told them to stop treating me like this.“ His voice was shaking. Mori’s hand ran over Dazai’s slim waist. God, this felt so good. 

„And that is really strong of you.“ Mori said, kissed the kid’s head. 

„But they told me to apologize for talking back and told me to lick their shoes…I said no. Then Dostoyevsky choked me. I still didn’t apologize. So they took me to the bathroom and…they just…“ Dazai’s voice broke. 

Mori’s hand was stroking the boy’s thigh. Imagining Dazai whimpering and crying while being fucked by another student against his will, totally turned the man on. He had only ever kissed Dazai, but he wanted more. His fingers made their way to the other’s inner thigh. 

„W-what are you doing?“ Dazai looked up at Mori with glassy eyes. He looked so hot when he was sad.

„I want to make you feel good. So you can relax.“ Mori explained with a polite smile on his face. He didn’t care how Dazai had just been raped and probably couldn’t handle this type of physical touch, let alone sex right now. Yes, Mori only ever cared about himself. And that’s something that would probably never change. 

„I..ah..I don’t…I’m sorry but…“ Dazai stammered and tried to remove the other’s hand from his thigh. 

Alright. Plan B it is then. „It’s okay.“ Mori kissed the boy’s head again. „I’ll be right back.“ He went into the kitchen and got out two glasses of wine. Then he filled them up to the brim. In one of the glasses he put the knock out drops he had hidden in the cabinet behind the cereal. This would do. He simply couldn’t hold back, wait any longer. After all, he too was just a man. He had desires and needs. 

So Mori returned with the glasses. Dazai still looked traumatized. He was chewing on his fingernails. 

„Here. This will help too. I know you like wine.“ Mori handed the glass over and Dazai took it. 

„Thank you.“ 

„I will talk to your mother. She will understand. You have to move schools.“ Mori took a sip and the other did the same. Thats right, drink up, he thought.

„But what if they don’t like me there too?“ Dazai asked.

„Look,“ Mori put an arm around the kid. „They will treat you like the boy you are. I can already notice some of the changes from the testosterone. I’m sure you do too. Your voice is getting deeper for example. Nobody will know about your past. A new start. That would be nice, right? I'm sure they will be nice to you. I’m really sure of it.“ 

„I don’t think so. Nobody is nice to me, except for you and Chuuya-kun.“ He took another sip.

„But that can change. You’re so handsome and such a sweet soul. They will like you!“ 

Dazai’s body twitched a little at those words. He shifted in his seat. Could it perhaps be that….

„I’m not…“ Dazai murmured. But there was a hint of a smile playing on his lips. 

„You are. You’re the most beautiful boy I have ever seen. I’m completely honest. Your eyes are so pretty. And your smile is so cute.“ Mori continued. He felt the other’s body shift again. This was turning Dazai on. No doubt. The kid had a praise kink. How adorable was that….Did he react like that too when Chuuya complimented him? Or was it because Mori was his father figure? 

The glass in Dazai’s hands was a little emptier now. He looked at Mori again. „I think the wine helps.“ 

„It always does.“ The doctor winked. He downed his own glass entirely. 

„I really never have to go to that school again?“ Dazai wanted to know. He slurred ever so slightly. A good sign.

„No. I’ll make sure of that.“ Another try. Mori moved his fingers to the waistband of Dazai’s pants. He slipped under them. But Dazai didn't complain. It seemed as if he tried to straighten up a little, but he sank back into the adult’s arms immediately. 

„Drink up, so I can put the glasses away.“ Mori ordered. Dazai slowly nodded. He drank the rest of his drugged wine. Then Mori took their glasses and put them on the floor. 

„I feel so good…“ Dazai said. He was totally out of it. 

„Come here.“ Mori helped the kid sit up a little and kissed him. They really made out with each other. And Dazai seemed to be into it. Well, those knock out drops made you horny too. A nice side effect. 

Then Dazai crawled onto the other’s lap. Mori was hard. He wanted to fuck the boy so badly. But he needed to favor every single second of this. Who knew, when the next opportunity would come? Mori put both arounds Dazai’s waist, who was grinding against his dick. It was purse ecstasy. 

„Fuck…“ Mori moaned and their lips were connected by a strain of spit when they parted. 

Dazai buried his head between Mori’s shoulder and neck. He was breathing heavy. But when Mori gently tilted the boy’s head so he could look at him, he saw how out of it Dazai was. His eyes were only half open. He probably wouldn’t even remember any of this. Mori’s hands were all over Dazai when the key turned in the lock. Dazai didn’t notice, but Mori did. 

It was just Hinata. She took of her high heels and then walked up top the two. „I’ll be in my bedroom.“ She simply said and kissed Mori on the lips, who was groping her son pretty much everywhere. 

But she didn't give a single fuck. There was no fiber in her body, that wanted to protect her child and help him. She had caught them in a clearly sexual situation. But she didn’t care. Her boyfriend was a pedophile? So what? He loved her, right? So it wasn’t an illness but a kink. And everybody had kinks so it was okay. 

„I don’t feel good…“ Dazai suddenly complained.

Mori was just about to start undressing him. „Don’t worry about it…“ he purred. „You’ll be fine.“ He unbuttoned Dazai’s school uniform. But when he sat there just with this tiny sports bra on, he covered his chest with his arms. He looked down. 

„What is it?“ Mori asked. How much longer was he going to have to hold this pressure in?

„Don’t look.“ Dazai whispered. Of course. He was insecure about his chest. 

„I won’t take it off.“ Mori promised and pulled the kid closer again. 

But Dazai seemed a little different now. He was shaking a little. „I don’t want this.“ He said. Wow. He had switched up really fast. How annoying. 

„Don’t you want to make me happy?“ Mori tried. His hand slipped between Dazai’s legs. 

„I do…“ Dazai slurred. „B-but I don't want to do...I feel so disgusting...“ 

Alright. Mori pushed Dazai off his lap and got up. Irritated he walked to that cabinet again and got out the bottle of the knock out drops. He came back to the couch. Dazai sat there and looked completely lost.

„Open.“ The doctor commanded. 

Dazai furrowed his brows. He looked scared. But the good thing was, that he wouldn’t remember any of this. At all. 

Mori put three drops in Dazai’s mouth. Then he just stared at the brunette. It wouldn’t take long. And it didn’t. Dazai’s body went completely limp. Perfect.

And so Mori took him. He ruined him. Dazai was unconscious the entire time. Mori had thought about this every single day. Under the shower, during a surgery and when he slept with Hinata. And it felt so fucking good. Seeing the boy’s small body under his was perfection. He put a finger in Dazai’s mouth. He wrapped his hands around his neck, that was already stained. He took everything. Mori used Dazai like he had never used somebody before. Because Dazai would forget about this. He was unconscious after all. 

But Mori was wrong. 

Dazai would remember.