Dance of song | Soukoku dance au |

Dearest Mother

With the passing days, classes going on, and the season beginning to move along, there was clear avoidance. The two who had drunkenly danced hadn't made eye contact or argued at all, shuffling away at the slightest sight of the other. Their two friends would sit and sigh, shaking their heads at every movement. Shirase and Yuan hadn't said anything yet, but it was starting to get ridiculous.

The two didn't share their typical glares or show annoyance.

Sitting in class, Shirase finally had enough of their acts himself. "Alright Chuuya, what's up with this?"

"I don't know what you're talking about?" The ginger twirled his pen, eyes on the clock waiting for the bell.

"Oh come on, you and Dazai?" The silver-haired friend tapped a finger to the table with a raised brow.

"Nothing."

"You haven't talked with each other in two weeks."

"And that's an issue?" Chuuya mumbled, avoiding eye contact. He has always been a horrible liar... a very horrible liar. At least it's easy to tell when something is bugging him. Chuuya avoids eye contact or punches you, either one you know something's wrong.

"Obviously, you're wearing-" Chuuya shoved a folder towards the silver-haired male, with widened oceans staring at him.

"Shut up!" Shirase pushed away the folder with a slight gasp.

"Oh my god, are you... embarrassed?"

"No!" Chuuya spoke far too quickly, with too much of an angry snap to pass with that lie. Shirase glanced over to the brunette, who minded his business on his cell phone.

"Oh, this is rich."

"He's a jerk... and there was some stupidity... while we were drunk." Chuuya hissed quickly, glancing at Dazai, before staring at the desk that suddenly became interesting.

"He's really not a jerk. I bet he picks on you because he thinks you're hot." Shirase smirked while Chuuya rolled his eyes, jabbing him with his elbow.

"A guy like him? No..."

"Something's bothering you... is it the difference between sober and drunk?"

"I... maybe. It's concerning... but not because I care! We'll end up paired up again... we seem to be partnered a ton anyway." Chuuya shrugged, and before this conversation went anywhere, the bell sounded, saving him from any prying Shirase may wish to continue.

Somewhere in the middle of the lesson, Dazai pulled his phone out, staring at the screen for minutes on end, before slipping outside the classroom. Chuuya watched him leave, curious as to what led to the brunette rushing out in what looked like a hurry. Has something happened?

Dazai slowed his pace in the hall as another call came through. Thinking perhaps this number, unsaved but repeatedly calling him in the middle of a school day, was his mother's recovery personnel. Answering the call, he slid the phone to his ear. "This is Dazai Osamu speaking."

He almost dropped the phone from his ear when the first syllable dropped from the other end. "Osamu."

"You got a new number."

"After I was blocked, yes." Dazai rolled his eyes, leaning against a stall door, closed tightly behind him.

"That wasn't enough incentive for you not to pick a phone up and dial my number?" He hissed through his end of the phone. His eyes narrowed into slits as he tapped his foot to the ground.

"You're an ungrateful twit, you know that?"

"Of course, you only remind me every day."

"Why can't you be more like your sibling? You know, I won't be surprised if you end up a worthless shit like your mother." Dazai's grip tightened around the metal as he leaned his head back on the door, reminding himself that no matter what he might feel, there's nothing he can do.