Soukoku One-Shots

Dazai Osamu's Guide to the Grammys

Alternate Universe

Dazai's car pulled up to the stadium and almost immediately, the reporters and newscasters swarmed the vehicle with chattering and bright lights, like always.

"I'll be back in a few hours, sir."

"Yes, thank you." Dazai offered his driver an easy smile before stepping out of the car, giving the cameras a winning smile and lazy waves as he made his way up. As always, the cameras got his best angles and he stopped frequently to answer reporter questions—something that made him generally favored in the public eye. He was always gracious and it certainly helped that his smile had fans worldwide swooning.

Dazai spent most of his time talking to interviewers and reporters and getting his pictures taken, but he also got opportunities to catch up with old friends. He hated it most of the time because if there was one thing Dazai wished he'd never have to do again it was small talk, but other times weren't so bad and he was grateful to see people again.

"You've been behaving?"

"Hirotsu!" Dazai exclaimed, clasping a hand to his chest in mock offense. "I'm hurt that you would think otherwise."

"No one would blame me. You were a handful."

Dazai waved a lazy hand. "You sound like a regretful father—I'm faring very well, thank you. I see your beard is as grey as ever." Hirotsu arched a brow and Dazai gave him a quick pat on the back before turning on his heel. "It's always good to see you, Hirotsu!" he called over his shoulder, to which the old man only shook his head and went to grab a glass of champagne.

Dazai made to go find his seat, but a certain person coming up the stairs caught his eye and he grinned. "Chibi!" he called out, sauntering over with an innocent smile.

Nakahara Chuuya was chatting with a few interviewers, talking animatedly about something or another as he waved gloved hands around. He had always been a favorite of the public, with his pretty red hair and friendly disposition. Like Dazai, he enjoyed being able to interact with fans and the general public, and they adored him.

Blue eyes caught his and Chuuya's amiable grin melted into a scowl. "What do you want?"

"I almost didn't see you—have you shrunk a few centimeters?"

Chuuya clenched his jaw. "You know I haven't, shithead."

Dazai made a big show of studying Chuuya's outfit, eyeing him head to toe with a frown and narrowed eyes. "I see Chuuya's hats are as tacky as ever," he simpered.

"And you're as much of a bastard as ever," Chuuya shot back.

Dazai pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense. "Chuuya! That's mean! And in front of the camera?" he asked, waving a forlorn hand to the reporters and newscasters who were slowly beginning to migrate toward them.

"Go pester someone else."

"Is the slug not happy to see me?" Dazai pouted, which earned him an eye roll in response. "So mean."

Before Chuuya could reply, though, the interviewer he'd been talking to earlier cleared her throat. "You two seem lively," she began hesitantly.

Chuuya shot Dazai a glare before he turned to give the interviewer an apologetic smile. "Sorry about that."

"No, don't be! It seems like your rivalry is as spirited as ever."

This 'rivalry' had been infamous since Chuuya and Dazai were fifteen—they antagonized each other in every way possible, and had no shame in acting like squabbling children in public, either. Tonight, as expected, was no exception.