The Great Hall, Year 1 {slight angst + fluff}
Dazai Osamu and Blaise Zabini were sitting at the Slytherin table for dinner. Draco had left them to sit with Pansy. Dazai was pulling his usual shenanigans and eating minimally, Blaise was trying to pile more onto his plate.
The conversation around the table is lighthearted, filled with soft laughter and playful banter. Students casually toss jokes back and forth, their voices overlapping in a cheerful hum. Occasional bursts of giggles punctuate the chatter, and now and then, someone teases another, prompting groans of mock offence followed by even more laughter. The atmosphere is relaxed, with no serious topics in sight, just friends enjoying each other’s company and taking a break from the usual stress of school life.
Dazai is losing focus, he doesn’t want to pay attention to these boring conversations. Something catches his interest. Further down the Slytherin table, is a group of students whispering between themselves. Their murmurs are loud enough that Dazai can process what they are saying.
“Hey y’know that transfer kid, uhh what's his name…. Dazai? He’s so weird.”
Another student chimes in; “Yeah! He spaces out so much. And, like… last class I had with him, I tried to make a joke and he just didn't respond at all.”
Multiple noises of agreement rang out through the group. The conversation had grown so much that practically the whole table was listening now. A different student joins in, laughing. She elbows Dazai playfully; “Yeah, Dazai, why do you always act like you’re above everything? It’s like you don’t even care most of the time.”
Dazai tries to laugh it off at first, forcing a smile as the comments keep coming. He chuckles lightly, attempting to maintain his usual carefree demeanour, but the teasing doesn't let up. The remarks, though meant to be harmless, pile on, and he can feel the weight of everyone’s attention pressing down on him. Slowly, his playful mask begins to slip. His laughter falters, and he shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his fingers twitching slightly as he tries to keep his composure.
The noise around him seems to grow louder, and the atmosphere that once felt lighthearted now feels suffocating. Dazai's fingers are at his wrists now, scratching nervously. One of the students makes a more personal jab, smirking as he speaks.
"Maybe Dazai’s just too smart to bother with the rest of us. Or maybe he’s just weird."
The remark hangs in the air for a moment before the group bursts into laughter, the sound echoing around the table. But while everyone else is caught up in the joke, Dazai’s expression shifts. His usual easygoing smile vanishes, replaced by a stony look. His face hardens, his jaw clenched just slightly, though he says nothing in response. Instead, he fixes his gaze on his empty plate, his fingers tightening around his fork. The laughter continues around him, but Dazai remains silent, staring blankly as if trying to detach himself from the situation.
Blaise notices Dazai’s expression change. “Hey, ‘Zai, you okay?”
The student who made the jab at Dazai glances over at him. Noticing that he hasn’t reacted, the student rolls his eyes. “Jesus, it was just a joke. Get over yourself!”
Dazai’s face pales instantly. The words hit him harder than he anticipated, and he stiffens in his seat, his hands clasped tightly underneath the table. He can feel the fabric of his bandages rubbing against his wrists, the irritation building with every second. The voices around him, once just background noise, now feel like they're closing in, coming from every direction, louder and more disorienting with each passing moment. It’s all too much.
He can't take it anymore.
Suddenly, Dazai stands up, the legs of his chair scraping loudly against the floor, drawing the attention of the other students. He doesn’t look at any of them. He can't. His heart pounds in his chest, and the room feels too small, too suffocating. He needs to get out of there, now.
Without a word, he walks as fast as he can toward the doors of the Great Hall, his footsteps echoing in the suddenly hushed space. His hands fumble as he reaches for the door, wrenching it open with a sharp tug. As soon as he's outside, the cool air hits him, but it does little to calm him down. His pulse is still racing, his mind spinning, and without thinking, he runs.
He doesn’t know where he’s going, he just needs to be as far from the hall and the overwhelming noise as possible. His feet carry him through the castle's winding corridors, past confused students, until he somehow finds himself at the entrance to the Hellhounds' office. By some miracle, he made it. His safe place.
Out of breath and trembling, Dazai throws himself inside, finally away from the chaos, and leans heavily against the wall next to the door, as it clicks shut behind him. Safe.
Blaise’s head whips around when he hears the chair next to him creak. He can’t help but watch the scene play out before his eyes. Dazai. Not looking. Not speaking. Leaving the Great Hall. When he finally processes what happened, Blaise himself is out of his chair. Opening the door. Frantically looking around for Dazai. Running in the direction of the Hellhounds’ office.
Dazai hears a few tentative knocks at the office door. There are only a few people who those knocks could belong to. Hopefully, it’s Blaise. No. Dazai shuts that thought down immediately. He can’t think like that, Mori was right. He’s grown too attached, letting emotions cloud his judgment. He shouldn’t rely on anyone, not like this.
Just as the thought crosses his mind, a voice rings out from behind the door. “Dazai? It’s Blaise. I’m coming in.”
A few seconds after the words hang in the air, the door creaks open slowly. Blaise steps inside without hesitation, his expression calm but concerned. He doesn’t say a thing as he crosses the room and quietly sits down beside Dazai on the floor, the two of them side by side in the dim light of the office.
"Hey, are you okay?" Blaise asks softly, his voice gentle but firm, cutting through the lingering tension. His eyes flicker down to Dazai's wrists, where Dazai’s fingers are already at work, scratching the skin in that nervous habit of his.
Blaise doesn’t press, but the look in his eyes says it all, he knows Dazai’s struggling, and he’s not leaving until he’s sure he’s okay.
Dazai shocks himself and Blaise by replying. “They were right. I am weird.”
Blaise begins to protest but Dazai keeps speaking. “I don’t always get their jokes, and sometimes I don’t know how to respond to what anyone says. You think it’s easy for me to be here, trying to fit into a world that doesn’t make sense half the time?"
Blaise's eyes widen in understanding. "I have to work twice as hard to figure out things that seem easy for everyone else. I can’t just get over how my brain works. I don’t want to be the butt of their jokes just because I’m different." Blaise’s expression changes into one of sympathy.
“If you haven’t gathered it by now, I’m autistic. I understand and feel things differently than everyone else.” His voice is quieter than usual. His eyes are fixed on the floor as if he’s bracing himself for something.
“That’s why things like earlier get to me. The noise, the comments… it’s just, so overwhelming. I try to hide it, but sometimes it’s too much.” His fingers are still fidgeting, the nervous energy flowing through him.
Blaise doesn’t react immediately, but when he does, his response is calm, and careful. His brow furrows slightly, but not out of confusion, just concern. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”
Dazai shrugs, avoiding eye contact. “I don’t want people to see me differently. I thought if I told you, or anyone, you’d treat me like I’m fragile… or weird.”
Blaise shakes his head. “Dazai, that’s not going to happen. I mean, it explains a lot about why things can be harder for you, but it doesn’t change how I see you.” He pauses, his tone more certain now. “You’re still you. You don’t have to hide that from me.”
Dazai risks a glance at Blaise, who meets his eyes steadily, his expression open and sincere. “So… you’re not freaked out?” Dazai asks, half-joking but half-expecting the worst.
Blaise smiles slightly, leaning back against the wall. “Freaked out? No. Surprised? Maybe a little. But I’m still here, aren’t I?” He nudges Dazai lightly with his shoulder.
For the first time in what feels like hours, Dazai lets out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding.
“I hate being like this sometimes. It’s just easier to pretend nothing bothers me.”
Blaise nods in agreement. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”