Chapter Text
"The world wants to be deceived."
♖
Sirens blared, people were shouting--and in the middle of what looked to be the suicide of a young man, a redhead, his eyes blue and face freckled watched as the tall, bandaged brunet who could have not been any older than sixteen walked with unsteady feet on the railing that looked down to a river.
This boy's eye's were star-filled, a grin torn on his face as if he were mocking those who watched with concern.
He was eager, an unusual boy.
Nakahara Chuuya's first mistake was to be deceived by this teenager's performance of comedy.
Life is fickle, and such shows itself within matters of seconds.
Within seconds, the boy’s footing slipped, and he splashed into the water. Screams cued, a mass of footsteps erupted. In the wildness, a man and what looked to be his daughter walked with grace to the railings of the bridge.
The man sighed and put a hand to his hair. “Everyone, please forgive my student’s theatrics. He will be fine, in fact, he is a training professional swimmer!” Chuuya visibly cringed—what a lie. Although--most of the crowd seemed to have believed this and backed away from the railings, thier curiosity of whether the boy died now cured by the offhanded words of a complete stranger.
Chuuya took a closer look of the man and noticed his pale features mixed with a blood wine eye colour—his what Chuuya supposed to be his daughter wore a black gown and bonet, a parasol in hand even though the sun was hidden from the clouds that alerted of a storm.
The man then looked around.
Chuuya watched from the side as the man looked to the river beneath them, and then laughed--that was when Chuuya saw them.
Fangs gleaming, pale skin, a child holding a parasol on a day that was typical to storm.
The man was a vampire, much to the same as Chuuya—whom was born within a fruitful community of vampires.
Familiarity is what Chuuya felt.
The redhead shook with what was not fear—but rather apprehension. When Chuuya had been a child, he often listened to the songs his sister had sang with her friends.
“Around the villa, Mori Ougai walked pale as white roses, his unaging daughter merciless as she laid her thorns on Mori Ougai’s corpse. Mori Ougai, the boneless doctor, walking through the villa, he saw the little children and made himself quiver. Mori Ougai, inside the villa he offers five salmon pieces to the stray cat but received no answer.”
'Mori Ougai, perhaps he is hungry.' Is what his older sister, Kouyou had said as she sat next to the young Chuuya--a light flickering next to them.
Nakahara Chuuya's second mistake was being a witness to those who were damned.
Mori Ougai looked over to Chuuya and said, "tell me, young fellow, could you help me carry my student from the river? He can't quite swim yet."
Chuuya felt himself grimace.
♖
The boy was light in the Chuuya's arms--his face was pale, his hair a dark brown and he wore formal attire.
As Chuuya laboured his way out of the river, he felt the boy's cold skin brush against his and it made the redhead quiver at the feeling of touching one another. The unsettling feeling of another's blood running through their veins while their lungs pushed air out of their nostrils, the unsettling cold and warmth of being able to touch another's delicate skin without feeling the flesh and bone that would present itself under once the body was cut open.
It was overwhelming.
Chuuya heaved a breath as he lay the boy on the concrete next to the river, water dripping from his red hair onto the pavement.
The redhead then peered at the other boy who laid unconscious, water soaking the pavement as if it were a shadow to the boy's unmoving body. In Chuuya's opinion--he looked like a corpse.
Pale faced and unmoving.
He is most likely a vampire of such nature which was the same as Chuuya.
The sound of approaching footsteps made its way to where the redhead was--it was Ougai Mori, the man painted himself with a snake-like smile that was oddly comforting yet cold and unsettling none the less. "What is your name?" He asked as he crouched down to take a closer look at the bandaged boy.
Chuuya gulped, sweat falling from his temples--is he supposed to tell his name to the rumoured to be devilish vampire that killed the past leader of the Port Mafia in order to become king?
Yeah. That sounds like a great fucking idea.
"Nakahara Chuuya, sir," Chuuya's nerves were really getting to him because he stumbled on pronouncing his own name. Mori laughed and then wacked the brunet--the boy convulses before shooting right up into a sitting position--his eyes were blood shot and wide open, as if he had been revived.
Chuuya grimaced and thought, "what the fuck?"
Ougai Mori then sighed and said, "My name is Ougai Mori, but you can call me Mori, I am a doctor of sorts and then is my assistant!" Mori then smiled and turned the boys head to where Chuuya sat, cross-legged. "Introduce yourself!" Mori said.
The brunet looked at Chuuya with a long, painfully long stare--as if he was absent and then his jaw began to hang down. "My name is uh," the brunet cleared his throat and sniffed--his wet hair leaving water droplets on the concrete in an odd fashion.
"I am Dazai, the assistant to this creep, Doctor Mori. And you?"
Last name only, great start.
So he had humour--but he was also rather obnoxious--not even a "thanks for saving my ass from drowning!"
With a visible internal sigh and tired eyes, Chuuya responded with, "I'm Chuuya Nakahara, but please only call me Chuuya. You look like shit."
The brunet, Dazai's eye twitched.
Mori laughed, "You two seem to be getting along just fine!"
'Just fine my ass,' thought Chuuya.
Mori then stood and held the blonde haired girls hand.
"Nakahara, Dazai--shall we head off to somewhere more suited of discussion?"
Nakahara Chuuya's third and final mistake, was finding grief in the muse of humour while becoming entranced by the flame that was Osamu Dazai.
This was his first sin.