Chapter Text
Sometimes, procrastinating comes along with guilt.
But there are also times when it comes as an opportunity…
“You’re a lifesaver, Chuuya.” There’s genuine relief painting his sister’s voice, loud and clear even as it comes through the old and somewhat broken speaker of Chuuya’s phone. “This meeting is so out of nowhere and I have no way of knowing when—”
“It’s fine, Ane–san,” Chuuya cuts in, lips curled. “I’m free anyway.”
Free, as in ignoring the paper that he has due in a few weeks and has been procrastinating on doing for the past month. On top of his dissertation, and that on top of job hunting for after he graduates…
But his sister doesn’t need to know that and, hence, she doesn’t need to worry.
Besides, it’s Friday, which means studying is forbidden — a rule Chuuya set for himself around primary school and has dutifully followed ever since — and he’s already finished his shift an hour ago.
So he is, all things considered, free.
Sort of.
“Plus, I haven’t seen her in a while, so I’m actually looking forward to it.”
Because Chuuya loves his niece.
He used to be around a lot when she was born, visiting his sister almost every week to play with the little one, but after graduating high school and getting into university… He still visits a lot, it’s just not as often as it used to be.
He looks after her every once in a while to let his sister take a day off from parenthood, or sometimes they all meet at a park to have a picnic — but, lately, life has been hectic. So getting to do this favour for his sister is actually a highlight of Chuuya’s day.
And an excuse to look away from his responsibilities, but that’s beside the point.
“I’m sure Kyouka will be thrilled to see you, too.” There are more voices coming from the other side of the call, words Chuuya can’t make out with how muffled they are by the weak signal. “I’m sorry, Chuuya, I really have to go.”
“Don’t worry,” the redhead says, shaking his head out of habit. “Just send me the address, okay?”
Bzzt!
“There you go. I’ll call them to let the teachers know you’ll be picking her up today so there should be no problems.”
“Got it.” A teasing smirk stretches his lips, even if his sister isn’t here to see it. “Have fun with your meeting.”
They’re siblings, they don’t need to see each other to know certain things. Just like Chuuya can imagine the eye roll he gets for the comment, and it only adds to his satisfaction.
“...thanks,” his sister mutters, clearly not looking forward to that meeting she’s being made to go to.
Once his sister hangs up, Chuuya quickly copies the address into maps and checks the way. It’s quite far from here but there’s a direct train from the nearest station, and then it’s only a short bus ride away from his sister’s house. Nice and easy.
Pocketing his phone, Chuuya hangs his bag over one shoulder and starts walking towards the station. There’s still some time, so he doesn’t have to hurry too much but he also didn’t lie when he said he’s looking forward to seeing his niece.
Actually, Kyouka’s kindergarten stays open until very late, much later than most places — most of the kids that go there have parents that have extremely busy schedules, or that work late into the afternoon and sometimes evening — but she has her first piano lesson today and must already be pacing with excitement. That’s how Chuuya used to be when he was younger and about to start a new hobby, so he can imagine.
Plus, he’d like her to eat something before the lesson and he needs to make sure there’s enough time for the girl to tell him all about her day and what she’s been up to. He loves listening to it and Kyouka seems to love talking about herself to him just as much.
She’s just too cute and never fails to make Chuuya smile.
Last time when the redhead was over for dinner and they both played in her room, the girl told him everything about her crush on one of the boys and, god, if it wasn’t the most adorable little ramble he has ever heard. Or maybe he’s biased because he loves her so much.
It doesn’t matter.
If anyone asks him — she’s the most precious girl in the entire world, and that’s not negotiable.
She’s really like her mother, too, straightforward and fearless. It’s not that Chuuya was shy as a child, because he wasn’t, but he remembers all too well how shy he’d get whenever his crush — his first crush — was around, or what awkward things he’d do to gain their attention. As kids do, of course.
It was one of his teachers when he was in kindergarten. He was Chuuya’s teacher for a year when the redhead was in the oldest group and… Looking back on it, the man must have known about his silly, childish feelings. There is no way he wouldn’t have, with how embarrassingly obvious Chuuya’s younger self was.
Didn’t he give that man a special drawing that one time…?
The train’s door closes and Chuuya’s eyes squeeze in embarrassment as he recalls his childhood days.
It was Valentine’s Day, wasn’t it? He remembers spending the whole afternoon the day before drawing several pictures and choosing the one he liked best, and then not being able to fall asleep because of nerves.
Thinking about it now, maybe it was a good thing his younger self was shy about his crush and kept it a secret from everyone. Even with that drawing, his little self was sneaky and gave it to his teacher with no one around — if his sister had ever learnt about it, Chuuya would have never known peace ever again.
But like this, it’s only between him and that man, who moved away from their town right about the time the redhead started primary school, anyway.
Obviously, it ended up with Chuuya crying his eyes out for a few days after it. Even if the man wasn’t his teacher anymore, the redhead was hoping to continue seeing him around the neighbourhood, to brag about all the good grades the boy would get if nothing else, but with the man not around anymore, that childish wish became Chuuya’s first heartbreak.
Ah, good old times.
As he gets off the train and starts walking down the street to where his maps tell him to go, Chuuya finds himself thinking back to his childhood, a small smile tugging at his lips. He wonders how his first crush is doing right now. It’s been almost twenty years since Chuuya last saw the man, so he may be married by now or…
Well, not that it matters.
Childhood crushes, as many other things, mostly stay in the past. Chuuya hopes his old teacher is leading a happy life, but that’s it. He doesn’t even remember that much about the man anymore, only that he was kind and fun to play games with, even if he was more reserved than some of the other teachers.
Once Kyouka’s kindergarten comes into view and Chuuya doesn’t need his phone anymore, the redhead’s steps speed up a bit.
Did the teachers tell her?
Or will he get to surprise his cute niece?
With that thought occupying his mind, Chuuya passes the gate and heads for the main entrance. The children’s laughter reaches him from the playground that’s still out of his view — lively and cheerful, making him smile even more.
He opens the door and steps inside, chuckling to himself at how small everything looks now that he’s an adult. All the benches barely reach his mid–shins, the tallest cabinets to his hips. There are children’s drawings plastered all around the entrance and a bright “WELCOME” with flowers and smiley faces in front of it.
It’s similar to Chuuya’s memories, to an extent. His kindergarten was much smaller in a much more rural area, so they didn’t have all the nice and new furniture like here, but the feeling of it was the same — bright, welcoming.
Fun, or so the adults hoped for it to be.
The last thing anyone wanted to go through back then was to have children breaking down crying when their parents dropped them off for the day — as an adult now, Chuuya understands.
There’s a person at the end of the short hallway, working on pinning the children’s drawings to the wall. A tall brunet in a yellow apron, with a sharp profile and dark eyes focused on the task at hand and—
Chuuya’s brows furrow slightly.
The brunet, he looks… oddly familiar.
The redhead can’t pinpoint where he’s seen him before but he’s sure this isn’t the first time. The man’s features are too distinct, too well engraved into Chuuya’s mind, like a memory that never truly faded, even if it’s not the clearest anymore.
The curly hair that falls around his face — somehow, Chuuya knows it’s soft, he can almost recall how it would feel under his fingers. Those eyes… Both Chuuya and that man are inside now, but if they were out under the sun, the dark irises would melt into golden honey, the redhead is certain of it.
It’s only the man’s profile that he sees but in his mind, Chuuya can see a smile…
A smile that’s kind and… welcoming… just like when…
Blue eyes widen, then a frown settles across his features.
No, it can’t be.
It’s only because he was thinking back to his childhood that his mind decided to play a trick on him, because there is no way this can be right.
Maybe Chuuya is more tired than he thought.
Maybe he’s seeing things—
“Sensei!” One of the children playing outside waves at the man from behind the window. “I won! Come see!”
The man turns his head away from the wall and towards the open window, and while Chuuya can’t see his face like this—
“In a minute, Kenji–kun!”
—he knows this voice.
This gentle and sometimes weirdly distant tone, the hint of amusement, the note of tiredness that seeps into it during spring and summer, sometimes in autumn but never during winter.
It’s like the sound of it is enough to blow away the fog around Chuuya’s memories, unlocking the images he used to cherish but that faded as years went by. He doesn’t believe it himself, he can’t, but the words slip from his lips before he realises his thoughts are escaping his hold—
“...Dazai–sensei?”
It comes out quiet, more a breath than an actual question, but the brunet hears him. He must have, because he freezes for a moment there, his hands hovering over the next drawing he’s about to pin to the wall.
It could just be because he’s surprised, or shocked, because he didn’t notice Chuuya before, but…
When the man turns to look at him, Chuuya can see it, even if it lasts less than a second.
The man, Dazai, recognises him, too.
Or so Chuuya thinks, the weird feeling in his gut telling him as much.
For a split second, Chuuya feels like he’s back in his home town again. For a single heartbeat, he’s five again and standing in front of the gentle teacher who never scolded him for being too loud, never found his questions too annoying.
It’s him.
It’s his Dazai–sensei.
But then—
A carefully polite smile settles on the brunet’s face. "That's my name, yes. How can I help you?"
—it’s as if it was all in Chuuya’s head, after all.
The familiar shine in his eyes disappears, the recognition gets replaced with professional politeness and the way he moves and speaks… it’s as if they’re meeting for the first time. As if they’re strangers, which they kind of are, but Chuuya knows it’s him.
…or maybe he tricked himself into believing that?
It is a possibility.
After all, this Dazai looks disturbingly similar to Chuuya’s old teacher — he looks just as young, and the man the redhead remembers must be in his late forties by now.
Could it be a coincidence? Even the name?
His teacher’s son, perhaps?
It must be, but…
It’s not only his looks. It’s the voice, the posture, everything—
“I…”
But it can’t be, can it?
Clearing his throat to buy himself some time while his mind is a mess of doubts and old images, Chuuya looks around the colourful walls, avoiding looking the man straight in the eyes. If he looks at him, he’s going to ask questions that push themselves on his tongue, and it’ll be even more weird, for the both of them.
“I’m here for my niece, Kyouka.” He speaks almost on autopilot, trying to hide his internal crisis. “I’m—”
“Ah!” A woman’s voice rings from the side when the door leading to one of the classrooms opens suddenly. “Nakahara–san?”
Chuuya blinks, looking at the woman. “I— yes.” And when he glances down the hallway again…
The brunet is gone.
“Ozaki–san told me you’d be picking Kyouka–chan up today,” the woman says, bowing politely as she straightens out her apron and steps closer.
She’s an older lady, shorter than Chuuya — for once — with round glasses and a kind smile. Her eyes shine as she looks at him, happy wrinkles forming in the corners of her eyes.
“You really do look a lot like each other,” she chirps, clapping her hands. “Such lovely hair, I’m jealous!”
Chuuya can only offer an awkward smile and a small bow. He’s usually well versed in social interactions but, right now, his mind is still a mess. He can’t stop thinking about that man he has just seen, about D—
“Come on this way.” Closing the door behind her, the woman gestures for him to follow her as she walks down the hall. “You’re quite early, so everyone is still playing outside.”
“Ah, I’m sorry…”
“Oh, no, don’t be! I’m told Kyouka–chan is trying to learn to play the piano? A brilliant girl!”
Well, she hasn’t started yet, but yes.
She really is brilliant.
“Um…” Just as the woman is about to open the door leading to the playground, Chuuya’s hesitant voice stops her.
“Yes, Nakahara–san?”
“I… I think I saw one of the other teachers before? A man with brown hair?”
Or was it a hallucination?
A memory born from nostalgia and manifesting itself to mess with Chuuya to cause him even more embarrassment on this fine Friday?
Is this his punishment for ignoring his assignments?
“Oh, that must have been Dazai–sensei.” The woman waves it off, opening the door and letting the children’s laughs be carried inside with the gentle breeze. “He’s been with us for two years now, a very responsible young man. The children love him, too.”
Two years.
He’s been so close for this long and Chuuya is only discovering it now?
Not that there is any reason for the redhead to pry, or for anyone to be informing him about a man he most likely has no connection to just because his mind decided it would project his old crush onto him the moment Chuuya sees the man for the first time.
Ah, he’s being ridiculous, isn’t he?
Great.
But before the redhead can ask about anything more — what would he ask about anyway, without sounding like a creep? — a girl’s voice melts his confusion into affection as he looks towards where the children are and…
“Uncle Chuu!”
Kyouka runs towards him from the swings, her hair blowing behind her. The older woman steps to the side and lets the little girl run straight into Chuuya, wrapping short arms around his legs and hugging him tightly.
The redhead can’t help but smile at her, one hand resting on top of her head.
“Hi, little one.”
“Are you here to pick me up?” Huge, innocent eyes look at him when Kyouka tilts her head back, never letting go of Chuuya’s legs. “Is mommy coming, too?”
“I am, but your mom had something important to do at work today.”
Kyouka doesn’t seem bothered by it, only blinking up at him with innocent, hopeful eyes. “You’ll stay for my lesson? Will we get ice–cream before? Or after? Are you staying the night?”
Chuuya holds back a laugh when the questions don't stop, and he hears the woman standing next to them chuckle quietly to herself as well.
“I’ll stay until your mom gets home, okay?”
A hum. “And ice–cream?”
He flickers her forehead, and the girl wrinkles her nose at him.
“Maybe after dinner.” Chuuya pats her head one more time before reaching for the small hand, urging Kyouka to let go of his legs. “Come on, let’s go home.”
With a small pout, the girl takes a step back and turns around.
“‘Sushi! Kenji! Bye bye!”
The two boys look up from the sandbox, waving their hands at the girl with smiles just as bright as hers.
“Bye!”
“Bye bye!”
For the short moment his niece isn’t paying any attention to him, Chuuya looks around the playground in hopes to see that man one last time but… he isn’t here.
And then, it’s time to go.
Once both Kyouka and Chuuya say their goodbyes to the older woman, the two of them head out. The girl is as energetic as ever, holding Chuuya’s hand and telling him all about her day and about how she’s going to learn so many different songs on the piano. While the redhead…
He holds her hand and smiles, humming and nodding from time to time as he listens to the child’s never–ending stories. For now, while his mind is mostly occupied with his niece, Chuuya doesn’t dwell on what has happened earlier, on the man that looks and sounds and acts like a living memory.
It stays in the back of his head, while Kyouka’s giggles and enthusiastic voice fills his mind with carefree happiness.
But he doesn’t forget about it.
Chuuya doesn’t forget about this Dazai–sensei that he has seen.
Nor does he let the memories much older than today’s slip from his grasp again, after they have resurfaced so suddenly to feel this… real.
***
“Thank you again, Chuuya.” Placing a cup of green tea on the kitchen counter in front of him, Kouyou sits down on the stool next to her brother. “I hope there were no problems with the teachers?”
Well…
“None at all,” Chuuya says.
Not about picking Kyouka up, anyway. That part went smoothly, even more than the redhead had hoped for it to — it’s something else that bothers him.
“One of the teachers, the older lady, recognised me before I could introduce myself, actually.”
And she wasn’t the only one, was she?
This Dazai–sensei recognised Chuuya, too. Right?
“Ah, yes.” Nodding to herself, Kouyou takes a sip from her cup. “She may not look like it, but she’s surprisingly sharp about these things.” Must come with years of experience. “And the hair was a big hint, I think.”
Chuuya hums, letting the soothing smell of green tea fill his lungs.
There’s noise coming from upstairs where Kyouka is getting ready for her lesson, or maybe she’s just playing with her toys. Kouyou’s meeting, unscheduled as it may have been, turned out to be shorter than anyone expected and, in the end, even if it would have been a very narrow window, she could have picked Kyouka up herself and made it on time.
Barely, but she would make it.
But that’s what she has Chuuya, her family, for — so that she doesn’t have to rush.
“Did you meet her friends?” Kouyou leans on her arms, her lips curling up. “I thought she’d like to show you off to them.”
“I think she was too excited for the lesson to remember about showing off.” Chuuya chuckles to himself. “But I saw them. Kenji and ‘Sushi, right?”
And he also saw someone else.
Someone he can’t really ask about without making it sound not only weird, but also as if he’s completely out of his mind.
In their hometown — a very small and in the middle of nowhere town — there used to be two kindergartens, but the one Kouyou went to closed down right before Chuuya was about to enter it, so he went to the other one. Which means his sister never met his teachers and Chuuya was very careful about not mentioning anything that would give her an opportunity to tease him.
She must have seen Dazai once or twice at one point, but again — it was almost two decades ago and, for her, Chuuya’s teacher was just another man she would pass by on the street. Kouyou picks Kyouka up every day and if she recognised the brunet in any sort of way, she probably would tell Chuuya about it, either out of nostalgia or as a joke — and she didn’t.
Which means Kouyou either doesn’t remember seeing Chuuya’s Dazai–sensei, or… the redhead is really just seeing things where there is nothing to see.
“Do you want to stay for the lesson?” Smiling at him, Kouyou makes a quick move with her head towards the stairs. “Kyouka would be happy and we could have dinner together.”
Well, it is one way to keep his mind busy, at least a little.
“Happy with me staying, or with getting ice–cream after?”
Kouyou hums. “Both?”
“You’re spoiling her.” Chuuya huffs, sipping his drink. “Soon enough she’ll be asking for ice–cream for dinner.”
“So she’ll be taking after her uncle, then.” Smirking at the man, Kouyou quirks a brow into an elegant arch. “I dealt with it once, with you, I can do it again.”
“You didn’t deal with it,” Chuuya points out. “Our parents did.”
For as long as they stayed around, anyway.
Which wasn’t long at all, not for the young redhead who couldn’t understand why one day there was only him and his sister at the dinner table. That day and every other that followed.
Kouyou rolls her eyes at the comment. “You became quieter after they left, it doesn’t mean you didn’t try to sneak sweets under the table.”
More than aware that fighting his sister is a lost cause, Chuuya accepts his surrender.
“Fine, but I’m not leaving until I get some ice–cream, too.”
***
12AM.
1AM.
When Chuuya opens his eyes again—
2AM.
Ugh.
He thought staying over for dinner and spending the evening with his family would calm his mind, help him forget about this absurd idea his mind can’t seem to shake off, but not for the first time in his life — peace doesn’t come to Chuuya easily.
He’s been tossing in bed for hours, trying to fall asleep while ignoring the image of a pair of hazel orbs looking at him from the darkness whenever Chuuya’s eyelids fall shut. He has tried everything: counting to a thousand, both up and down, counting sheep…
Nothing works.
No matter what he does and how tired his body undeniably is—
That man’s image keeps reappearing in front of Chuuya’s eyes.
And the longer that idea occupies his mind, the more ridiculous it seems to him.
“...fucking hell.”
Sitting up on the bed with an annoyed groan, the redhead looks around the dark room only illuminated with the light falling in through the window. His gaze falls on his closet, his reflection in the mirror staring back at him for a long moment before the man tosses the duvet off from his body and stands up.
He takes his phone from the night table and walks up to the mirror, sliding the door open and crouching down to reach for the boxes he keeps there. Using the flashlight in his phone, Chuuya searches the contents of one of the older boxes and…
“Gotcha.”
Most of the photos the redhead has from his childhood are from the family trips, or from his school events his sister never missed once their parents bailed, but there’s also this: a small album every child was given on their last day at Chuuya’s kindergarten.
There aren’t that many photos inside but the redhead remembers the teachers were trying very hard to capture everyone at least once and the children would always ask them to be in the photos, too. It’s been years since the last time Chuuya looked inside and he doesn’t remember all the photos that well, but it’s worth a try.
All he needs is one look, a single refresher of what his Dazai–sensei actually looked like.
Maybe his hair was of a different shade, after all.
Maybe his face had a different shape.
However… Chuuya’s brows knit together as he turns one page after another, and again, and again, and again, and when he reaches the end—
“...huh?”
Why isn’t Dazai–sensei in any of the photos?
Was he absent on the day they took them? Only he, out of all the teachers?
From what Chuuya recalls, even the teachers that were off that day stopped by just to have their photos with the children taken. It’s difficult to imagine Dazai–sensei would miss it by mistake, or forget about the date, but if so…
Did he avoid the photos on purpose?
But why?
Closing the album with a frustrated huff, Chuuya thinks back to his childhood and… now that he searches his memory, he may remember being disappointed about Dazai–sensei being absent on the photos day. He must have been upset about it, given his little crush, but what did the man tell him back then when he asked…?
Was he… sick?
Letting out a sigh, Chuuya drops the album to the floor and stands back up.
It must have been that, because what else?
But it doesn’t help him at all with his struggle.
Earlier, right before going to bed, Chuuya spent a good half an hour trying to search for ‘Dazai’ online, but none of the results he got matched his old teacher or Kyouka’s current one. It would probably be helpful if he knew the man’s given name, but he doesn’t and asking Kouyou would make him look suspicious, so he’s stuck.
No social profile.
No photos.
Nothing.
…Chuuya isn’t getting any sleep tonight, is he?
After searching though the album only to arrive at another dead end, his mind is wide awake and pissed. Even if he tries to fall asleep, he’ll most likely only end up tossing around until the morning and then he’ll start feeling tired, right by the time he’ll have to go out.
It’s always like that.
Glancing at his desk and the laptop on top of it, Chuuya wrinkles his nose, already dreading the conclusion to at least one of his problems forming in his mind. He can’t say he likes it, not in the slightest, but…
Working on his assignment will surely bore him enough to fall asleep, right?
***
In the end, no matter how much he tries to push these absurd ideas away, Chuuya ends up thinking about it the whole weekend. About the teacher at Kyouka’s kindergarten, about the man he remembers from his childhood. About how this Dazai–sensei looked at him, no matter how briefly. About how it doesn’t make any sense—
“Can I get you anything else?”
The waitress’ voice snaps Chuuya back to reality, his fingers jumping away from the keyboard of his laptop.
“I—” Clearing his throat, he looks at the girl standing next to his table with a patient smile. “Another latte, please?”
It’s only past 5PM, a perfect time for yet another coffee of the day.
“Of course.” The waitress bows slightly, then takes the empty cup and a small plate from Chuuya’s table and walks away, leaving the redhead to his… tasks.
One of them is finishing his assignment, which is why his laptop stands proudly open with an almost entirely blank word document displayed on it. Another is trying not to go crazy from all the deadlines and questions and doubts cluttering his mind. And another one is—
Well, trying not to feel like a creep on this fine Monday afternoon.
Nothing special, of course.
The coffee shop Chuuya decided to use as his hiding and viewing point is a fairly small one, with only one person behind the counter and acting as a waitress at the same time. The atmosphere inside is soothing, the smell of coffee beans filling the air strong but not uncomfortable. It’s not too busy despite the afternoon rush hour, the staff has kindly allowed the redhead to charge his laptop as long as he buys something and—
It’s right across the street from Kyouka’s kindergarten.
Very convenient, indeed.
There is a part of him that stirs in his gut, anxious about the whole ordeal, but Chuuya tells himself that it’s fine because he’s here for the teacher, not any of the kids. He needs to clear his doubts, or he’ll genuinely go insane from them.
Well… stalking is still a crime, his mind reminds him, but it’s a thought Chuuya prefers to ignore for the time being. He isn’t actually doing that, he’s…
He’s just studying here — his laptop is open, is it not? — and waiting for Dazai to finish his shift.
Without telling the man about it.
Or without knowing him, for that matter.
But—
Chuuya doesn’t plan on doing anything dangerous, he simply wants to talk to the man and prove to himself that it isn’t his old teacher from almost twenty years ago. He’ll apologise to Dazai later, once everything is settled. Hell, he’ll even let the man laugh at him for all this charade, he’ll deserve it.
When the waitress comes back with his order, Chuuya thanks her and leans back in his chair, sipping on his coffee and looking out the window absentmindedly.
From what he’s seen, most of the kids have already been picked up by their parents, including Kyouka.
(The 15 minutes of having Kouyou in his vicinity was beyond stressful, having Chuuya rethink all of his life choices while he was slouching behind his laptop, trying not to be spotted by his sister or he would never hear the end of it.)
There are only two, or three children left from what he can see — kids of the parents that work late, probably — and there are more parents, or caretakers, walking inside right now, so it shouldn’t be long before the kindergarten closes.
What time do the teachers leave, anyway?
How long does it take to close and clean everything?
Chuuya hopes it won’t be too long, because the cafe closes at 8PM and the thought of staying outside by the kindergarten’s gate, waiting for the man to come out, fills the redhead with uneasiness too great to overcome. He can barely keep it cool like this, pretending to be reasonable and as if he isn’t doing something borderline illegal.
“...”
Another kid comes out with his parent, and Chuuya looks back at his laptop. He’ll feel less guilty if he gets some work done, for sure, and before he knows it, another hour passes.
His cup is cold and empty, the evening outside already beginning to hide under the blanket of the night as the last sun rays fall upon the high buildings, painting the thousands of windows with fading gold.
His assignment — not blank anymore.
With hands folded behind his back, Chuuya stretches his back until his bones pop and his muscles relax again. He’s been sitting here for hours, his eyes and brain hurt from studying and he really can’t justify buying another coffee this late.
Or maybe he can…?
He leans back, cocking his head from one side to the other to loosen the knots in his neck. The girl behind the counter is slowly beginning to clean around, it’s getting dark and—
“Shit—!”
—they’re already at the gate, Dazai and the other teachers, closing it up.
“Can I—” Chuuya almost trips over the cable of his own laptop as he stumbles towards the cashier. “Can I pay now? I have to go.”
The girl blinks at him, surprised by the sudden rush before registering what the redhead just said. “Yes, of course.”
It’s quick and easy, the payment going through without any problems — and the teachers finish locking everything up.
Chuuya’s bag is a mess as he shoves everything inside without care — they’re already saying their goodbyes and walking away.
Fuck, he almost forgot he cable—
Jingle!
The bell over the door rings frighteningly loudly when Chuuya storms out of the coffee shop, fighting with the zipper of his bag to force it close before any of the papers fly out in the wind. He saw Dazai walking down the street, alone as the other teachers went the other way, and he thinks he sees him in the distance.
The universe hasn't forsaken him completely yet, because the light at the crossing changes to green the moment Chuuya reaches it, and the redhead crosses to the other side in record time.
“D—”
But the name dies in his throat because…
Is it really okay to just shout out to him? Will Dazai even hear it from here?
They aren’t friends, or even acquaintances — they’re strangers, the only thing that connects them is Kyouka and Chuuya’s relentlessly curious mind.
If he waits, Dazai is going to get away, but…
It won’t be too weird if Chuuya just, very casually, quickly walks up to him, right? There aren’t many people around this area at his hour and he wouldn’t want to scare the other man with being shouted at, after all. That’s a reasonable plan, very much so.
Nothing too extreme.
Nothing too creepy.
It’ll be just like a coincidence, like bumping into Dazai by chance. While being out of breath and still struggling with his bag.
Anyway—
But by the time Chuuya is somewhat close, falling only a handful of steps behind, they’ve already walked all the way down one of the streets and he still can’t bring himself to call out to the other man, because…
What is he going to say, anyway?
‘Hi, are you my teacher from 20 years ago? Because you look like him but you also look not much older than me, so I’m kind of losing my mind here?’
….yeah, maybe not that.
He really should have thought of that sooner and used some of the time at the cafe to come up with something less insane. A note for the future him: don’t just go with the feeling of it, but maybe make a plan first.
It makes him hesitate, slowing down to create a safer distance between himself and Dazai as the redhead thinks it over.
‘Hi, how old are you?’
‘Do you by any chance have an older sibling that looks exactly like you?’
‘Do you remember me, but a smaller version of me? Like, 20 years younger?’
…god, he really is awful at it, isn't he?
Another street and nothing happens. The longer it goes on, the more awkward Chuuya feels about calling out to the man. Scared, even.
The brunet is absolutely going to think Chuuya is weird, even if he hasn’t noticed the fact that he’s being, not so subtly, followed after work. By a man he most likely doesn't remember even if he is who the redhead thinks he is.
While it’s already dark.
And with no one else in the vicinity.
Around the neighbourhood Chuuya isn’t familiar with.
“...”
Maybe it’s better if Chuuya starts thinking about how he’s going to beg Dazai into not calling the police on him, instead of worrying over anything else. Will he let him off if Chuuya brings up Kyouka? She would be very sad if her uncle were to go to jail, Dazai must have—
Then, he stops.
When Chuuya blinks again, the brunet is… gone?
Confusion and panic surges through the redhead’s body, his brows furrowed as he looks around. There seems to be a small alley right around when Dazai was just a second ago — did he turn into there?
Holding onto his bag more tightly, Chuuya speeds up in his tracks, running up to the end of the alley. It must look suspicious but he has already waited for hours and wasting all that time only to chicken out at the end is a big no.
He’ll talk his way out of this somehow, for sure, after he gets to Dazai.
Slightly out of breath — mostly due to his nerves — Chuuya runs up to the end of the alley, his eyes searching for a light coat among the shadows of the early evening.
“Daz—!”
But before he can properly call out to the man he hopes is still within his range, the words die in his throat and his breath gets punched out of his lungs when a hand suddenly grabs him by the shoulder and slams Chuuya against the bricked wall.
But how? When? From where?
For a second, there are stars floating in front of his eyes, the hand on his shoulder firmly holding him in place and a shadow falling onto Chuuya’s face from where someone is looming over him.
“Who are y—”
Once again, the sentence never meets its end before it's stolen from the man’s throat.
But this time it is not Chuuya that hesitates.
The redhead’s back and head hurt slightly from the impact and his vision is blurred for another second but it only takes a few blinks for Chuuya to see clearly again and… it can’t be.
That hair.
That face.
Those eyes—
Chuuya’s heart stutters. “It’s you.”