Osamu Dazai 17

The irony is that Dazai is beginning to fall in love with two versions of the same person without realizing they are one and the same.
Through text messages, VelvetRiot is someone he can talk to without having to maintain his popular boy persona. At school, Chuuya is the annoying redhead who challenges his intelligence, grabs his attention, and makes him experience emotions he'd rather not feel.
Dazai believes they are completely different people.
With VelvetRiot, she feels trust, growing affection, and a desire to build a connection that goes beyond nighttime conversations. With Chuuya, she feels physical attraction, curiosity, competitiveness, and an inexplicable need to remain in the redhead's field of vision.
He doesn't realize he's looking for the same thing in both of them: someone who truly sees him. If he discovered that VelvetRiot is Chuuya, he would probably go through a crisis of denial. He would try to convince himself that he can't be in love with Nakahara, that their online conversations mean nothing, and that it's all just a joke that went too far.
But, deep down, the discovery would also frighten him for another reason.
Chuuya would have access to a part of Dazai that no one at school knows. He would know things about him that not even his closest classmates could imagine. And Dazai would have to face the possibility that the boy he teases so much is also the one he has begun to trust.
Dazai's biggest fear isn't discovering he's in love with Chuuya. It's discovering that Chuuya already knows his most vulnerable sides and still having reasons to choose to leave.
And for the first time, Dazai might want to stop playing with his own feelings—even if he doesn't know how to do it.

Dazai also begins to feel jealous of Chuuya, although he refuses to acknowledge the feeling.
When he sees the redhead chatting animatedly with other classmates, he feels disproportionate irritation. Not because he wants to control Chuuya's friendships, but because he hates realizing that that relaxed expression exists even when he's not around.
It's especially unpleasant when Chuuya compliments someone, laughs at a joke that wasn't his, or shows interest in another person.
In these situations, Dazai usually appears out of nowhere and interrupts the conversation with some inappropriate comment. — Nakahara, I didn't know you were capable of holding a conversation without threatening someone. I'm touched.
Chuuya immediately loses his temper, and Dazai regains the attention he wanted.
The problem is that afterwards, you keep wondering why you were so bothered.
He's not dating Chuuya. They're not close friends. In fact, the redhead probably considers him one of the most unbearable people he knows.
Dazai has no justification for feeling jealous.
Still, he feels it.
And when he realizes that Chuuya is genuinely annoyed by his behavior, a part of him feels regret. He doesn't want the redhead to be truly hurt or to come to hate him. He wants to continue being someone capable of eliciting reactions from him, even if he has to pretend that's the only reason he cares.

Dazai doesn't suddenly become shy around Chuuya. On the contrary, his teasing becomes even more frequent.
If he notices that the redhead looks particularly handsome on a given day, he feels an inexplicable urge to tease him. If Chuuya shows up with his hair styled differently, Dazai comments that he finally figured out how to use a comb—though he immediately noticed the change. If Chuuya gets too close during an argument, Dazai maintains his mocking smile, even when his attention momentarily drifts to the redhead's eyes.
He transforms any involuntary reaction into another provocation.
— What are you looking at, dwarf? Have you fallen in love with my beauty?
Go look at yourself in the mirror, idiot!
— Oh, so you admit you look at me?
I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!
Dazai laughed, pleased to have diverted attention from the matter that almost compromised him. What he doesn't tell anyone is that he enjoys the closeness. He likes it when Chuuya leans over his wallet to complain, when he holds his wrist to stop him from running away from an argument, and when he unknowingly invades his personal space.
It's an attraction that he disguises so well with sarcasm that sometimes even his colleagues can't figure out what's going on.
Dazai himself prefers to call it curiosity, annoyance, or simply a natural reaction to the fact that Chuuya is an annoying person.
Any explanation will do, as long as it doesn't require mentioning the word "attraction."

The problem is that Dazai already has someone occupying his thoughts all day long: Chuuya Nakahara. At school, the two are in constant rivalry. Chuuya is explosive, proud, impatient, and incapable of letting a provocation go unanswered. Dazai, on the other hand, seems to have turned irritating the redhead into a personal goal.
He teases Chuuya about his height, comments on his temper, and invents nicknames that make the other threaten to rip his head off. He loves to see him lose his temper, mainly because Chuuya isn't intimidated by him and never hesitates to answer back in kind.
However, there is one detail that Dazai finds deeply inconvenient: he finds Chuuya absurdly attractive.
It's not something I decided to feel. It just happens.
Dazai notices Chuuya's red hair before anything else. The reddish strands catch his attention even in a room full of students, and he often finds himself following its movements before remembering that he should be paying attention to the lesson. He also notices Chuuya's blue eyes, his intense expressions, and the way he furrows his brow when he's angry. He finds it particularly unfair that even his angriest expressions are beautiful.
And the redhead's smile is even worse.
Chuuya doesn't smile at him very often, but when he does—especially when he's laughing at some misfortune that happened to Dazai himself—the teenager feels a strange satisfaction at realizing he managed to elicit that reaction from him.
Naturally, he would never admit any of that.
If someone asks if he thinks Chuuya is handsome, Dazai reacts as if he's just heard the biggest load of nonsense of the century.
— Nakahara? Handsome? You urgently need to schedule an appointment with an ophthalmologist.
He says it with such conviction that he almost manages to convince himself.
Almost.

Dazai is slow to acknowledge that he's developing romantic feelings for VelvetRiot. He's not naive and knows perfectly well how attraction works, but he's never been in the habit of allowing someone to become emotionally important to him.
Therefore, initially, he interprets his own interest as curiosity. He wants to know what VelvetRiot is like, what his voice sounds like, how he laughs, and what expression he makes when he's annoyed. He imagines what it would be like to spend an afternoon talking to him in person and wonders if the redhead would also be as interesting outside of messages.
Sometimes, he tries to imagine her face based on the small details she shares. At other times, he realizes he's smiling at his phone screen and immediately adopts an indifferent expression, even when he's alone in the room.
The worst part is when VelvetRiot takes a long time to respond.
Dazai would never admit that he misses someone he's never met in person, so he sends another message, usually some absurd provocation, pretending he's just trying to pass the time.
When he receives a reply, he feels such immediate relief that he prefers not to analyze the reason. If VelvetRiot mentions another person he spoke to, Dazai makes mocking comments about the redhead's supposed lack of good taste. He has no right to be jealous, he knows that, but knowing it doesn't make the feeling any less uncomfortable.
The idea of ​​being just another stranger among so many others bothers him more than he would like.
He wants to be special to VelvetRiot.
Not just someone funny to talk to when bored, but the person the redhead thinks to write to when something important happens. Someone whose absence is noticed, whose opinion is valued, and whose presence is desired.
It's a genuine desire, but a frightening one. After all, the more important VelvetRiot becomes, the more power he has to hurt Dazai.
And Dazai doesn't know how to deal with the possibility of liking someone who could actually break his heart.

VelvetRiot became the first person Dazai truly wanted to talk to, even when he had absolutely nothing interesting to say. What attracts him most to this friendship is the freedom he finds in it. VelvetRiot doesn't know his family, his school reputation, or the expectations his father places on him. He isn't expected to be the smart, funny, and carefree boy everyone knows. Dazai can complain, show irritation, and even talk about things he would normally hide behind a joke.
Gradually, he begins to reveal small fragments of himself. He doesn't tell his entire family story at once, but lets slip comments about arguments with his father, the difficulty of returning home after a bad day, and the feeling that people like the image he has built more than who he really is.
When VelvetRiot listens to him without pressuring him, Dazai feels something he's not used to experiencing: trust.
And trust soon begins to mix with a much more dangerous feeling.

Before meeting VelvetRiot, Dazai was used to talking to many people without truly connecting with any of them. He was popular, constantly received messages, and rarely went a moment without someone trying to get his attention. Even so, his conversations almost never went beyond superficial jokes, casual flirting, and comments on topics he forgot about a few minutes later.
So, he started chatting with VelvetRiot. At first, Dazai saw the app as a simple distraction. He liked to tease strangers, send dramatic messages about how miserable his life was, and complain about teachers, classes, and the annoying people he encountered daily. He expected to receive some funny replies and eventually lose interest.
However, VelvetRiot became part of her routine long before she realized it.
Dazai started checking the app as soon as he woke up, during breaks, and before bed. When something funny happened, his first impulse was to think about how he would tell the redhead about it. When he had a particularly bad day, he would look for their conversation under the pretext that he needed entertainment.
He kept telling himself that he was bored.
It was a convenient explanation, mainly because he didn't have to admit that he was eagerly awaiting messages from someone he didn't even know personally.

A striking characteristic of Dazai is the white bandages he usually wears on his forearms and, occasionally, on other parts of his body. In this AU, they may be a personal habit related to matters he prefers to keep private, with Dazai offering no explanations when asked. If a colleague shows curiosity, he usually responds with some absurd excuse or changes the subject.
Overall, Dazai has the appearance of a popular boy who never seems to try too hard to get attention. He's handsome, charming, and expressive, with a presence that naturally draws glances. However, there's a subtle contrast between his playful smile and the blank expression that sometimes appears when he feels alone.
It's as if his face has learned to smile so easily that no one at school notices when he's truly unhappy.

When he's teasing someone, his eyes seem to acquire a mischievous glint, accompanying the smug smile that usually appears on his lips. However, when he believes no one is paying attention, his gaze can become distant and tired, revealing a melancholy that he rarely lets show.
His face has harmonious features, with a thin nose, well-defined lips, and fair skin. His most habitual expression is a sly, almost mocking smile, which makes him seem like he's always about to say something stupid. Even when being reprimanded by a teacher, Dazai manages to maintain such an innocent expression that it's almost irritating. Dazai is tall for his age, approximately 1.81 m in height. He has a slender body, long limbs, relatively narrow shoulders, and long hands. He doesn't have particularly developed musculature, as he doesn't dedicate much time to physical activity, but he also doesn't appear fragile. His posture is usually relaxed, often leaning over his desk, resting his face in his palm, or walking with his hands in his pockets.
At school, he wears his uniform carelessly. His shirt is usually slightly disheveled, his tie isn't always perfectly adjusted, and his blazer may remain open even when teachers require everyone to dress appropriately. Dazai rarely seems concerned with maintaining an impeccable appearance, although, curiously, he remains handsome even when completely disheveled. Outside of school, he prefers comfortable and discreet clothing: neutral-colored T-shirts, loose shirts, dark trousers, and sneakers. His wardrobe isn't particularly flashy, but he manages to combine simple pieces in a way that matches his carefree personality.

Osamu Dazai — Appearance

AU school without powers • 17 years old • Second year of high school

Osamu Dazai is a seventeen-year-old teenager with a naturally attractive appearance, possessing the kind of carefree beauty that draws attention without much effort on his part. Tall and slender, he has delicate features, a mischievous smile, and brown eyes that always seem to be hiding some joke or thought he prefers not to share.

His hair is brown, medium-length, and slightly wavy, with a few unruly strands falling over his forehead and framing his face. The cut is casual, without looking meticulously styled, as if Dazai had run his fingers through his hair a few times before leaving home and decided that was enough. A few strands become disheveled throughout the day, reinforcing his carefree appearance.

Her eyes are brown, slightly elongated in shape, with an expressive gaze that alternates between amusement and a serenity that is difficult to interpret.

What's most surprising is that VelvetRiot doesn't try to turn him into a better person or extract a confession about his feelings from him. Chuuya simply talks to him, as if Dazai's presence were enough even when there's no joke to tell.
And that starts to scare him.
Dazai starts waiting for messages from the redhead, rereading old conversations and inventing trivial topics to prolong the nights. If VelvetRiot takes a while to reply, he pretends not to care, although he continues checking the app with a frequency he would never admit.
He doesn't know the boy's real name, he doesn't recognize his face, and he's not sure what it would be like to talk to him in person.
Still, he starts telling things he never told his schoolmates.
Perhaps he'll mention an argument with his father. Perhaps he'll talk about his mother without turning the memory into a joke. Perhaps, on a particularly difficult night, he'll admit that he's tired of pretending everything is funny. And when VelvetRiot doesn't laugh at him, doesn't change the subject, and doesn't demand that he explain everything immediately, Dazai discovers something he never knew how to ask for: the possibility of being heard without having to play a role.
The central conflict is that Dazai begins to emotionally trust Chuuya even before discovering that he is the same person who spends his days teasing him at school.
When this truth comes to light, the question will not only be how two rivals can become friends. It will be whether Dazai can accept that someone has seen his most vulnerable side and still likes him—and whether he can trust Chuuya personally with the same sincerity he found behind a screen.

Chuuya is an inconvenient exception.
Ever since they started studying in the same class, Dazai discovered that the redhead wasn't impressed by his popularity nor did he feel obligated to laugh at his jokes. Chuuya confronted him, pointed out his contradictions, and didn't hesitate to call him an idiot when he deemed it necessary.
Dazai started teasing him more and more, initially because his reactions were amusing and, later, because he began to enjoy how easily the two could converse, even when they were arguing. Chuuya doesn't treat him like a school celebrity. He doesn't seem interested in pleasing him, gaining his attention, or receiving his approval. If Dazai is being unbearable, he simply says so.
This sincerity both irritates and fascinates Dazai at the same time.
He begins to recognize Chuuya's footsteps in the hallway, memorizes the times the redhead usually arrives in the classroom, and notices when he's in a bad mood even before hearing the first complaint.
If someone asks why he picks on Nakahara so much, Dazai replies that the boy is an easy target.
If someone suggests that he simply stop bothering him, Dazai considers the idea for approximately two seconds before replying that school life would be boring without him.
What he doesn't understand is why the possibility of Chuuya actually ignoring him seems far less amusing than it should be.

At school, Dazai occupies a comfortable social position. He is known by students from various classes, converses with teachers with an intimacy that often crosses the line, and always seems to be involved in some absurd story.
He receives messages, invitations to go out, and occasional declarations of romantic interest. He's been invited on dates, to parties, and outings, but he rarely maintains these relationships for very long. When someone starts showing genuine interest in getting to know him, Dazai usually turns the approach into a game. He makes provocative comments, avoids answering personal questions, and acts as if any emotional expectation is an inconvenience.
It's not that he's incapable of feeling affection. It's that he doesn't know how to trust someone without expecting that person to discover his weaknesses and eventually leave.
He can spend an entire afternoon surrounded by colleagues and return home with the feeling that he didn't really talk to anyone.
Therefore, Dazai's friendships tend to be superficial. People like his fun-loving side, but don't know how to react when he gets serious. Some distance themselves when they realize they can't overcome his barriers; others never even notice that there are barriers there.
Dazai learned not to expect too much from these relationships.

Around his uncle, Dazai doesn't need to be the popular and funny kid everyone expects to find. He continues to make bad jokes, dramatize trivial events, and try to avoid serious conversations, but there are times when he simply abandons the act.
He can sit silently beside Oda without feeling the need to fill every second with words. Sometimes, he shows up at his uncle's apartment claiming to be bored, even though they both know there was another argument at home. Oda never immediately asks what happened. He prepares something to eat, lets his nephew choose a book or a movie, and waits until he decides to speak.
Dazai rarely expresses gratitude directly. Instead, he reappears the following week, sends messages with absurd comments, or complains that his uncle doesn't know how to choose interesting films.
It's the clumsy way he found to show affection.
Oda is also one of the few people capable of perceiving when Dazai is truly hurt. He doesn't automatically believe his smiles and knows that sometimes, the funnier his nephew becomes, the more desperately he's trying to avoid a conversation.
Before meeting VelvetRiot, Oda is the only person with whom Dazai can let his guard down, although never completely.

Oda Sakunosuke • 32 years old • Masahiro's younger brother, Oda is the only person in the family with whom Dazai maintains a truly affectionate relationship.
Unlike his older brother, Oda never demanded that Osamu demonstrate any quality to deserve his attention. When his nephew was a child, he talked to him about books, took him to eat at simple restaurants, and allowed him to ask questions without turning every answer into a moral lesson.
It was Oda who noticed that, after Emiko's death, Dazai's humor had become more exaggerated and his answers more evasive. He didn't try to extract confessions from his nephew or insist that he overcome his grief. Instead, he continued to show up.
Sometimes he would bring food to the Dazai's house and chat with Osamu about trivial matters. On other occasions, he would invite him to spend the afternoon at his apartment, where the teenager could simply be quiet without anyone demanding explanations.
Oda doesn't treat Dazai like a fragile boy, but he also doesn't confuse his intelligence with emotional maturity. He's able to reprimand him when he crosses the line, point out when he's being cruel, and say that a joke doesn't make everything he does acceptable.
The difference is that Oda doesn't use his nephew's mistakes as proof that he's a disappointment.
Dazai trusts him because he knows he can disagree, make mistakes, and show irritation without risking losing his affection. His uncle doesn't demand that he be the best student, the most well-behaved teenager, or the most agreeable person in the class.
He only demands that Osamu be honest when it truly matters.

At sixteen or seventeen years old, Dazai and Masahiro maintain a cold relationship, marked by arguments that rarely reach a solution.
Masahiro considers his son irresponsible, provocative, and a waster of potential. Dazai considers his father a cowardly man who prefers to preserve his own image rather than acknowledge the damage he has caused.
Conversations between them usually begin with notes, behavior, or plans for the future and end with old accusations disguised as advice.
Masahiro often says that Osamu is becoming exactly the kind of person his mother would have disapproved of. This is one of the few things capable of making Dazai's smile disappear immediately. The teenager hates it when his father uses her memory as an argument. On those occasions, his irony vanishes and gives way to a cutting coldness.
Don't talk as if you know what she thinks of me.
It's one of the rare responses Dazai gives without laughing, joking, or trying to make the situation less painful.
He doesn't necessarily want to destroy his father or see him suffer. What he wants, though he'll never admit it, is for Masahiro to acknowledge that he hurt him. To stop treating everything as a misunderstanding and, for the first time, take responsibility for his choices.
Deep down, Dazai still harbors an unwitting hope of receiving a genuine apology. That's precisely why he keeps getting hurt every time he tries to talk to him.

When Dazai was thirteen years old, his mother, Emiko Dazai, was involved in a serious car accident after an argument with Masahiro. She initially survived, but remained hospitalized for weeks before dying due to complications.
Osamu didn't witness the accident, but he heard the argument that preceded it. That night, he had locked himself in his room after a fight with his father. He still remembers hearing his mother asking Masahiro to stop pressuring him and saying that her son didn't need to be perfect to deserve affection.
The father left home shortly after.
When news of the accident arrived, Masahiro was far away. He never admitted that the argument had contributed to what happened, but he also never managed to have an honest conversation with his son about that night.
What made everything even worse was Masahiro's behavior during the mourning period. Instead of allowing Osamu to grieve in his own way, he tried to impose a rigid routine, demanding that he return to school, maintain his grades, and stop using his mother's death as justification for his behavior. Months later, Dazai found documents showing that the parents had been discussing the possibility of separating for a long time. He also discovered that the mother intended to leave home with him, although she had not yet decided when or how she would do so.
Masahiro knew about her plans and never told his son.
When Dazai confronted him, his father replied that he had tried to preserve the family and that Osamu was too young to understand adult problems. The conversation ended with Masahiro stating that his son was distorting the past because he needed to blame someone for his mother's death.
It was at that moment that Dazai stopped believing that his father would ever admit responsibility for anything.
Dazai's resentment stems not only from his mother's death, but also from the way his father transformed grief into something his son should hide so as not to bother anyone.

Father: Masahiro Dazai • 48 years old • Lawyer and partner at a renowned firm
Dazai's father, Masahiro Dazai, is a respected, disciplined man who is extremely concerned with reputation. For him, a person's worth is related to what they achieve, how they are viewed by society, and their ability to maintain control in any situation.
Masahiro is not an absent father in the conventional sense. He is present at home, pays the expenses, monitors his son's grades, and ensures he has access to the best opportunities. To those observing the family from the outside, Osamu is a privileged teenager, raised in a comfortable home with no reason to complain.
However, within that house, affection was always treated as a reward.
As a child, Dazai was curious, intelligent, and asked too many questions. He liked to invent stories, take objects apart to understand how they worked, and figure out why adults said things they didn't seem to believe. Masahiro was initially proud of his son's intelligence. Over time, however, he began to demand more and more from him. Good grades were no longer enough; he had to be the best. A mistake wasn't an opportunity to learn, but a demonstration of carelessness. Crying during an argument was a sign of immaturity. Showing fear was shameful.
The father rarely needed to raise his voice to hurt him. He knew how to be cruel with gentle words, comparing Osamu to other teenagers and reminding him that his privileged position should make him exceptional.
Dazai learned early on that receiving praise meant he had met someone's expectations. He was never sure he would be loved the same way if he ceased to be intelligent, talented, or interesting.

Dazai is cocky, provocative, and irritatingly confident. He likes to have the last word and possesses an almost supernatural ability to turn a simple conversation into an unnecessary argument. He loves to tease people who react easily to his provocations. The more irritated someone gets, the more fun Dazai finds the challenge.
That's precisely why Chuuya Nakahara becomes one of his favorite targets.
Chuuya isn't intimidated by his popularity, he doesn't laugh at all his jokes, and he doesn't silently accept his provocations either. He responds, argues, and finds equally creative ways to annoy him.
Dazai should find him unbearable.
And consider it.
The problem is that when Chuuya isn't around, Dazai ends up noticing his absence. He looks for the redhead in the hallway, pays attention when someone mentions his name, and enjoys the discussions with him much more than he'd like to admit.
Because he doesn't know how to deal with this interest, he turns everything into rivalry. It's much easier to say that Nakahara is an annoying dwarf than to acknowledge that this boy sparks his curiosity in a way that no one else can.

Despite his carefree appearance, Dazai is extremely intelligent and observant. He notices subtle changes in people's behavior, easily identifies insecurities, and often understands others' intentions before they can even express them. He remembers small details about others, even when he pretends not to pay attention. He recognizes when someone is lying, when a colleague is trying to impress him, and when a person is hiding something behind a smile.
This insight makes him excellent at conversations and discussions. Dazai knows exactly which comment will make someone laugh, get angry, or lose their composure.
Unfortunately, he also uses this ability to maintain emotional distance. Instead of allowing someone to get to know him, he prefers to get to know the other person first. Discovering their secrets gives him a sense of control that he never experiences when he needs to talk about himself.
He rarely demonstrates his full academic potential. He delivers impeccable work when he feels like it, solves complicated problems with ease, and then pretends he barely studied. He doesn't like to show effort because that would mean admitting that something really matters to him.

Dazai turns practically everything into a joke. When he's annoyed, he makes sarcastic comments. When he's embarrassed, he starts teasing someone. When a conversation gets too personal, he changes the subject so naturally that the other person hardly notices they've been diverted. He's theatrical, dramatic, and often obnoxious. He likes to exaggerate his own misfortunes, pretend he's on the verge of tragedy because of a bad grade, and complain about life as if he were starring in a play.
Many people believe that this behavior is simply a fun trait of their personality. In reality, humor also functions as a way to keep others at a distance.
Dazai prefers to be laughed at rather than feel sorry for. He prefers to appear irresponsible rather than admit that something hurt him. And he prefers to be considered an unpredictable idiot rather than risk being seen as vulnerable.
He knows how to be funny without being happy and how to smile without feeling anything good at all in that moment.

Osamu Dazai is the kind of boy who seems to know everyone, but in reality, doesn't really know anyone. Popular, charismatic, and with a personality that's hard to ignore, he's almost always surrounded by people. He talks to classmates from different grades, cracks jokes during breaks, shamelessly flirts with anyone who shows interest, and manages to turn awkward situations into fun moments.
To an observer from afar, Dazai seems to have the perfect life. He's intelligent, handsome, funny, and seemingly carefree. He never seems to take anything seriously, as if his only concerns are finding ways to skip class, tease his teachers, and annoy his classmates.
However, this image is carefully constructed. Dazai knows how to win people's sympathy, but he rarely allows anyone to go beyond the surface. He can make a stranger laugh in a few minutes, but he doesn't know how to honestly talk about his own feelings. He has dozens of contacts on his cell phone, people who reach out to him to talk, and colleagues who invite him out, but none of them know his insecurities, his fears, or how he really feels when he's alone.
Dazai is surrounded by people, but he has no real friends. Not because he's incapable of relating to others, but because he doesn't believe anyone could truly know him without eventually using that knowledge against him.