#simply because he gets distracted by watching Chuuya be flustered

[sensitiveheartless]

(Zoomed-in images under the readmore)

[fifteenleads]

Scientific Method: a process that uses evidence and testing to investigate the unknown, usually following a set of steps in order to arrive at a conclusion.

(Way too tedious. And boring. And so unlike Dazai.)

— An SKK Gakuen AU.

Step One: Make observations.

Most treat it like a "Step Zero", though, to their teacher's dismay. An era of results and instant gratification guarantees zero patience for things that take time.

Chuuya's guilty as charged, of course.

In any case, Dazai is being annoying, as usual.

"Stop blowing raspberries into my ear," he hisses, ducking under his textbook. "It's disgusting as hell."

"Did not," Dazai singsongs in English to the tune of his annoying ringtone. How he manages to even carry a tune despite the bubblegum idol pop blasting from his huge headphones is a mystery, indeed.

Chuuya rolls his eyes at that. "Did, too." He lightly kicks Dazai's leg to get his attention. "Seriously, listen to me. This is important."

Dazai seems to have read his lips, pausing his iPod and taking his headphones off with an annoyed sigh. "What, chibi?"

Ugh, that's definitely intentional.

Chuuya lets that insult slide for now. "I need the budget for the props ASAP," he huffs, arms crossed. "The school festival is already next week, you know."

Five days, to be precise, but Dazai still acts like they still have five weeks. "Ask Higuchi to do it," he drawls, lazily waving Chuuya away. "We still have 120 hours, don't we?"

Dazai turns to him, raising an eye expectantly. Damn him and his lack of sense of urgency sometimes.

That said, though, he always manages to get shit done in time. Every single time, without fail. And Chuuya, in turn, is always baffled at how he does it, every single time.

Today he finds himself asking the same thing all over again. Ugh.

Dazai's still waiting for an answer.

Chuuya's way too tired for this. "120 and counting down," he answers in kind to prove his point. "I need to submit it by today, in case you forgot."

"Higuchi will do it," Dazai simply repeats, wearing his headphones again. "Come back here when you're done. I'll wait for you."

Chuuya opens his mouth, then closes it again. Inhale, exhale. Better.

"Fine," he relents for now, arranging his things. "You'd better still be awake, or I'll dropkick your bony ass to tomorrow. Got it?"

He only gets the same lazy wave in response as he leaves.

When Chuuya comes back to the classroom an hour later, Dazai is fast asleep at his desk, headphones awkwardly displaced around his face.

To be fair, Dazai never said yes at all.

Chuuya could only scratch his head at that. This is one mystery he doesn't feel like solving at all.

.

Step Two: Ask a question.

Easier said than done, really.

They've been seatmates for more than a year and co-class reps for half that time, but that's about it.

Chuuya had cursed his luck to high heaven and back, and Dazai knew it. Reveled in it, even.

Then he got used to it.

He prides himself in being a good team player for the most part, if nothing else. That said, though, this is the first major event they are handling together, and the weight of the responsibility isn't lost on him.

"—Oiiii. Earth to Chuuya?"

Dazai is staring holes into him, pointed nose a mere fingerbreadth from his. He quickly backs away in surprise, sending the stack of paperwork flying to the ground.

Dazai seemed to have expected this somehow, and he sinks back into his seat while breaking into an amused chuckle.

Chuuya slowly puts up a hand to his face, surely an embarrassing flush of red by now. This is what he gets for getting caught off-guard.

The meeting continues where it left off, with Dazai rattling off a string of numbers while Higuchi notes down everything. Luckily, no one else said anything anymore.

Chuuya's still in his own headspace as he walks home alone, having managed to successfully ditch Dazai for once. He stops at a vending machine for a can of iced coffee, since he'll be pulling another all-nighter.

He gets the hazelnut-flavored one by mistake. A reflex, really.

Downing it in one go, Chuuya grimaces at the nutty aftertaste at the back of his throat. He still doesn't see what Dazai likes about it.

That being said.

Since when has he been this preoccupied with thoughts of Dazai?

"Ever since," a voice from the back of his head whispers.

Chuuya feels his face heat up again at the thought. Traitor.

Maybe he's still only flustered about earlier. He also hasn't slept enough the past days. Also stress from festival prep.

Or, he's only confused. Yup, that's definitely it.

That instantly makes him feel better.

.

Step Three: Formulate a hypothesis.

1. Dazai's annoying.    2. Dazai's very annoying.    3. Dazai's very, very annoying.

This one goes into the wastebasket, of course— as if he didn't already know that.

Chuuya's eyes trail to Dazai as he reads aloud a paragraph from the textbook.

It gets increasingly difficult to follow along with the lesson at hand when he's absolutely distracted by that rich, warm voice, carefully enunciating each word in the passage.

"Thank you, Dazai-kun," the teacher nods in satisfaction. "You may sit down."

As Dazai takes his seat, he turns his gaze ever so slightly in Chuuya's direction and their eyes briefly meet.

No sparks fly in all directions, but Chuuya feels a faint jolt of electricity run from his chest outward to every inch of his body.

Then Dazai smirks— the bastard.

1. He's definitely riling me up.

Dazai's smug face lasts only for a fraction of a second before it reverts back to one of disinterest.

Chuuya definitely knows better, though: from the dip of his eyebrows to the twitching of the corner of his lip.

2. He can be serious as hell.

Chuuya ends up mulling over his list through last period. He doesn't notice that class is over until Dazai sneaks up on him and quickly blows into his ear.

"Argh— goddamnit Dazai, every single time!"

Dazai sticks out his tongue in response. "That's for ditching me yesterday."

Chuuya groans in disbelief. Petty much?

He will never understand what he even sees in Dazai at all, at this rate.

Surprisingly, the very thought does the trick for him, and he takes note of it in his notebook at once.

"What's that?" Dazai attempts to peek over his shoulder, but Chuuya manages to evade him, snapping the notebook shut and glaring at him. "None of your business."

It only makes Dazai laugh. "Fine, then. I'll find out by next week."

"Is Nakahara here?" Kunikida from the next class calls from outside. Oh yeah, meeting.

"Gotta go," he excuses himself, half-relieved.

And that was that— for now.

Chuuya doesn't look at the third item on his new list until he's home. It's... strange and vague and unlikely as hell, but there it is anyway, in bold, red ink:

3. This might be a crush (???)

.

Step Three-point-five: Refine the hypothesis.

This is absurd, Chuuya thinks.

He's taken to scribbling his thoughts on a dog-eared spare notebook, since Googling "Do I have a crush on my classmate" was evidently useless.

The result ended up looking like a conspiracy map. Ugh.

Chuuya considers his three-and-a-half pages of chicken scratch before tearing them off.

It feels like he's dug himself into a hole at this point. Not that he minds staying in it, if it means he doesn't have to see Dazai tomorrow.

School festival's tomorrow, though.

Double ugh.

Chuuya honestly thought he was already too old for this shit. No, really.

Now his 15-year-old palpitating... red organ thing is laughing at him for it.

(He still chugs the rest of his coffee anyway. Mmm.)

Running won't solve anything, Nakahara.

Inhale, exhale.

Back to work:

H0 (null): He doesn't have a crush on Dazai. H1 (alternative): He has a crush on Dazai.

There, much more... straightforward.

Dazai would probably laugh at him for misusing a stat concept like this, but it serves his purpose just fine. It's not like he'll find out anyway.

It's one or the other.

(He'd have to decide sooner or later, anyway. Best to strike while the iron is hot.)

.

Step Four: Gather data.

(Because there's no time to experiment.)

It's only Day One, but micromanaging proves to be more challenging than expected. It comes with being second-in-command though, so Chuuya takes it all in stride.

Dazai, on the other hand, is on his phone, mindlessly scrolling and tapping and humming to himself between listening to the team's reports and ordering everyone else around.

Magnificent bastard's a born leader.

Chuuya peeks at his own phone; stopwatch app's still running

Dazai's been on his mind for... 6 hours now.

(No, really. Despite all the chaos. Yes, he's been keeping track.)

Others:

1. They've been using the same shampoo. The smell of activated charcoal has never been this alluring.    2. They think in the same way, apparently. Higuchi of all people had noticed. "You realized just now?"

And... And!...

3. They've been sharing breakfast for a year now. Bites out of the same bread, gulps from the same bottle of water, the works.

It makes Chuuya run for the nearest faucet to scrub off the blush on his face.

He's only left with cat-scratch nail marks and a soaking wet shirt for it, so clearly he shouldn't have bothered.

Welcome to adolescence.

Dazai is mildly amused when Chuuya returns to the classroom. "Had fun, chibi?"

No thanks to you, stupid beanpole.

Day Two isn't any different, but they're more used to the work by then, so they manage to close up much earlier.

Chuuya and Dazai are the last to leave the classroom, having finished the stocks inventory for Day 3 while everyone else went to enjoy the festival.

It's five PM.

"Ah, freedom!" Dazai yawns loudly as he says this, stretching his arms upward before swinging them around.

Chuuya ducks to the side to avoid getting hit. "Ugh, watch it!"

To his credit, Dazai drops his arms back at once. "Oh. Sorry."

He adds a smile to that. It's beautiful.

How hadn't he noticed that before?

The early sunset bathes the corridor in pale red-orange, as well as their white polo shirts. Dazai's messy hair seems to shine, too, if anything.

Chuuya's reaching up to touch it before he realizes. Greasy but soft.

Also: "You have freckles."

Dazai's confused at the sudden contact. He doesn't withdraw, though. "You, too." A smile. "Faint ones, as small as you are, across your nose."

Then he leans in and traces the cat-scratch marks on Chuuya's cheeks. "You've been distracted since last week. What happened?"

.

Step Five: Analyze the data.

Step Six: Draw a conclusion.

Step Seven: Share your findings.

...

Wait, wait, wait.

The moment feels like a jolt of electricity and the numbness after, and then some. Those who said people short-circuit were onto something, after all.

Chuuya doesn't register anything for the entire minute Dazai shakes him back to reality.

Then something wet goes into his ear.

He lets out an unholy screech right there and then, instinctively covering his ear in disgust. Dazai, too, has a finger in both of his, face contorted into something between a wince and a grin.

A beat.

Two more.

And Chuuya laughs his head off. He doesn't know anymore.

Dazai does, too, and they devolve into a pair of crazy hyenas— not that anyone would notice.

It's only a good five minutes later that they catch their breath, slumped on the wall, leaning into each other for support.

"You okay now?" Dazai asks him, still trying not to laugh.

Chuuya only huffs loudly in reply. Dazai takes it as a yes.

"Now that that's out of our system,"— and he goes back to business mode— "will you tell me what's going on?"

Hypothesis 2: Dazai can be serious at times.

(He has always been, though.

Chuuya only refused to see it.)

The next thing he knows, their faces are too close for comfort.

Chuuya takes a nervous gulp. It felt more like gasping for air, the way Dazai frowns at him for it.

Hypothesis 1: Dazai likes to rile him up.

(Maybe? Why, though?

Now he's not so sure anymore.)

Maybe it would be wiser to just forget it. This only happened because he overthought many things.

There's still time to back out.

Dazai won't let him, though, if the intense glare he has on now is any indication.

Inhale, exhale.

Moment of truth:

"Here's the deal" Chuuya starts, momentarily avoiding Dazai's gaze as he finds the right words to say. "We've worked together for so long now. And yes, I still think you're annoying as hell."

Dazai merely hums at that, as if he were expecting it. He doesn't say anything, though.

"A lot of times, though, you pull through. Get things done— magnificently at that. I really don't know how you do it, sometimes.

"The past week made me think about these things. Maybe even earlier than that. Who knows? Does it even matter?

"In any case, I realized something."

By now, the sunset is as deep red as his cheeks, and he feels himself burning up inside.

(Running now won't solve anything.

One or the other.)

Chuuya meets Dazai's eyes.

It's now or never.

"I like you," he says with finality. "And that's all you're getting out of me for now."

Chuuya lets out another huff to prove his point, and holds his breath. And waits.

A beat.

Two more.

It's Dazai who sighs in relief.

And what a sight to behold: his lithe form slumping forward against Chuuya's, the tension in his muscles dissipating with the remnants of the afternoon heat.

"Whew," Dazai finally manages after a while, "you finally said it."

"... Huh?"

"I told you, right? I'll find out soon."

"You didn't read my notes."

"Of course not," Dazai laughs. "You /were/ mumbling a little too loud to yourself these days, though. It was easy to piece things together."

Ugh.

Chuuya rubs at his temples. If only he has something to chuck into Dazai's face right now.

It doesn't explain Dazai's exaggerated reaction just now, though...which he isn't at all trying to cover up, unlike all the times he played pranks before. Unless..

...Oh.

It takes Chuuya only a moment: "You—"

"Yeah," Dazai breathes out. "And that's all you're getting from me, too."

No problems there. Chuuya likes straightforward people.

He still headbutts Dazai for it, though. "Payback," he says simply before he hears complaints.

"Fair enough," Dazai mutters under his breath. "We even now?"

"Yeah."

A bit anticlimactic, all things considered, but Chuuya finds he likes it, too.

Now that that's out of his system, though... "Now what?"

It's a pretty loaded question, and they both know it. No one just suddenly admits and enters into... whatever this is, without a plan.

Dazai stares back, just as cluelessly— but not for long: "I think I know what."

Chuuya decides he still doesn't like that grin at all.

"Remember the lab primer in science? There's a certain procedure we follow to investigate what we don't know."

This time, it's Chuuya who slumps. Good lord.

.

Step Eight: Start over.

.

.

.

For Kiro.

[machiavellinism-blog]

  CONTINUED. ▓ ▓▓▓▓▓ @ravertia

           𝐩𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐭 𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐡    unto which their currents aline — seraphs strung like stars amongst the moonlight.     ENTERPRISE OF ORISONS !     how he felt like a FOLLOWER of the other’s mere ambition.     these     VIOLET DESIRES     that evoke such warmth to spread from fingertips interwoven together.     such intermingling that their souls partake in ;     RECKLESS TEENS     that fall in step.     as if mere inklings of abandoned grief treading light yet forgotten like fallen ash.     mindless now to having TEMPTED THE BEASTenough to sneak out.     HIS BLOOD , HIS CORE     devoted to the mafia — but HIS HEART , how it only bled     CRIMSON     for the other.     a trail he couldn’t help but break the rules for.

           apprehension.     HOW IT COATS AMONGST HIS TENDER FRAME     sappling that ages with each step.     chaos unbeknowst to the spider veins of DAKRNESS that weigh upon his body.     TRUST that radiates far greater than the core of what killed icarus.     this     FEAR OF COMBUSTION     only an amount of the weight of red that grows only at the gain of vantage , across pale cheeks.     visage of appraisal that widens azure.     it’s SHOCK that fogs his mind , a soft     GASP     leaving the confines of his throat.

           dashes of colours that mingle alike     HALLUCIONGENIC HAZE     bold fixation of VAN GOGH’S RELIEF.     for truly did he swallow hues of yellow to brim with such glee at the depiction & sounds that wafted from the crowded fair grounds.     AN ODE TO THE HOLIEST NIGHT     the sounds of happiness that overwhelmed his senses.     clogging them with mixtures of feelings he could never understand beyond his time spent with the other.     CALL IT BOLD OR A MOMENT OF WEAKNESS     but did his strong visage fall only to one of CHILDLIKE WONDER.     his steps merely faltering as he took in the beauty of it all , feet carrying him forward and twisting him so until he met gazes with the other.     he didn’t care with how his pages unfurled to show his TRUTH to the other within the moment.     it merely flustered him so ,     THE ADORATION     that sparked within his joyous flare.

           movement so sure — so partial to the moment with how he — WITHOUT A CARE TO WEAKNESS — grew closer to the other , quickly leaning up with slight difficulty to connect their lips together.     HOW TIME SLOWS     as he applies pressure , keeping the kiss soft with how he wraps his arms around the taller’s shoulders — pulling ever slightly downwards so he wouldn’t topple over with how unsteady he was on the tips of his toes.     breaking the kiss only to rest his forehead against dazai’s ,     “     your so shitty …     ”     a soft grumble , eyes rolling as he leans back ,    “     doing something so … SWEET like this.     it’s so infuriating.    YOU’RE so infuriating.     ”

           THERE’S TENDERNESS WITHIN HIS TONE     gaze caught with staring so LOVINGLY into the other’s eye , relying heavily on the other to keep him upright as he detaches one of his arms.     fingers trailing softly along the skin beneath his bandaged eye , moving his hair away from the gauze only to lean in once again — straining slightly as he raised once more to press his lips gently against the soft material.     IT QUICKENED HIS PULSE     allowed him to feel so FREE with how open his actions were.     DEAD CENTER!     within a populated area that boomed with laughter — an     EPICENTER OF MERRIMENT     that JUST MAYBE the two could partake in     TOGETHER.

           he withdrawls , cheeks bright with colour that blends so complimentary to his hair.     actions shy yetSURE with how he interlaces their fingers , pulling the other as he guides them further into the carnival.    INSTANTANEOUS LIVELINESS     at the iridescent glow of humanity surrounds them so.     a smirk seemingly worms its way on to his face , gazing at the other with CHALLENGE evident across his features.     “     I’m going to kick your ass at ALL OF THESE GAMES , you know that right ?     NO WAY     I’ll let you cheat this time!     ”     his tone so CONFIDENT despite the war waging within his chest —     THE LITTLE DRUMMER BOY     playing a melody so loud that sparked nerves beyond his omnipresent facade to keep them at bay.

          𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐈𝐒 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄------- there is no denying it. dazai feels a rush of warmth swell up inside. it pushes at the inner walls of his rib cage. IT’S A BEAUTIFUL KIND OF ACHE. he realizes he’s never truly known the meaning of ‘ having your breath taken away ‘ until now. because he forgets to breathe while watching chuuya come to L I F E && radiate with such . . . joy. wonder. light. dazai reaches out to tuck a stray lock of red behind chuuya’s ear. fingers linger as they caress the side of his face.

          like the GRAVITY chuuya manipulates with such grace && ease--- it’s an invisible, yet tremendous force that draws dazai in closer to the other boy. his arm wraps around the young mafioso’s waist. as chuuya pulls him in for a kiss, dazai meets him halfway. his heart aches once their lips touch. never has he felt such IMMENSE GRATITUDE for BEING ALIVE. if he can spend the rest of his life with THIS BEAUTIFUL BOY . . . then maybe he can put his meticulously crafted plans of death aside for a while. as they kiss, dazai’s lips curve into a smile. his other hand runs through that red hair he adores so much. ❝ mmhm-- i’m terrible, i know, the absolute worst, ❞ he murmurs along with chuuya. soft laughter laces his words. ❝ but you-- you’re just---- ❞ he’s breathless. the genuine smile that reaches his exposed eye shines brightly. ❝ -----lovely. ❞ 

          the smile falters only out of silent shock as chuuya touches the bandages. TENDERNESS is a language he never knew until this boy. if it was anyone else that dared to get near his bandages, HELL HATH FURY upon their souls. but when it’s chuuya--- dazai leans into the touch. for the concealed damaged to be graced by those fingers is already more than he deserves. but when the bandages are blessed with a KISS---- is it the trick of the iridescent lights, or is there a glimmer of tears in dazai’s eye? in spite his usual eloquence, the boy can’t find the right words to articulate what he feels. so, he takes chuuya’s hand to kiss it gently. even brushes his cheek against the back of it.

         easy laughter spills out of him. what a delight it is to see chuuya like this--- free. innocent. happy. THE PORT MAFIA thrives in the dark. claims ownership of it, even. but when it’s just chuuya && himself---- dazai gets a chance of seeing what living in THE LIGHT may be like. at his partner’s enthusiastic challenge, dazai chuckles.

        ❝ KICK MY ASS, huh ?? but can your foot even reach my knee ?? ❞ of course, dazai isn’t going to miss out on a chance to poke fun at chuuya’s height. it’s all in good nature though. ❝ if you win, it’s only because i LET you win-- so that you can win me a plush. maybe i’ll even name it after you. ❞ truth is that dazai’s never owned a plush in his life. or had anyone win him something. or go to a carnival with him. it’s always a seemingly endless list of FIRSTS with chuuya.

       dazai takes chuuya by the hand, letting the boy take first pick at what they play. he doesn’t rig any games. but--- he’s got a whole new set of ‘ creative tactics ’ on how to get the advantage. such as distracting chuuya with kisses. or whispering sweet nothings into his ear. for once in his life, dazai doesn’t care about WINNING THE GAME. he’s not even trying to distract chuuya anymore. he’s simply giving soft kisses && words because he wants to. dazai nuzzles against chuuya && murmurs: ❝ ---be mine forever, mon cher ?? ❞