London
London. The air was pretty humid. It looked very different than from Yokohama. The buildings looked different, the pavements, hell, even the traffic didn’t look like Yokohama’s. In conclusion, Dazai did not like London very much, it was way too unfamiliar. Not only did it look different, Dazai would have to speak English and English only for this whole year. Maybe a tad bit of Japanese with Chuuya and Verlaine, and Verlaine’s husband. Mori would probably shower him with Japanese books and assignments when he got back, just thinking about it made Dazai’s nose scrunch up in disgust and distaste.
Was there anything he could do to make this better, anything, anything... The boy looked around the unfamiliar views, landscapes, and buildings. There was a cyclist that seemed to be in a hurry, the person looked very stressed. Maybe Dazai could just accidentally trip in front of their bike and die, and also ruin that poor person’s day. There was a bridge not too far away, maybe he could skip away over there and throw himself off of it and drown. There was lots of other stuff he could have fun with Dazai soon realized. There was lots of cars and busses he could throw himself in front of. Loads of things he could trip over and break bones on, though, that’d only inflict pain, so it didn’t really seem that attractive of a thought after some reflection over it in his head. There were lots of birds, maybe he could assemble some bird mafia and send them after people. The spikes on fences looked perfect for impaling, he could choke to death on a pastry at one of the many cafés, beaches with sand he could bury himself in, more cars, more bridges, people, tourists, Verlaine, Chuuya, birds... oh wait Chuuya.
Dazai’s head spun back at the thought of the ginger boy, who was walking behind him, hands in his pockets, with an annoyed expression. Dazai’s thoughts told him one thing “Annoy Chuuya” “Trigger Chuuya” “Irritate Chuuya”, Which was a lovely idea, and seemed like an easy thing to do too. Verlaine was walking 5 meters ahead, so him catching and getting mad at Dazai had a low possibility of happening. Plus, if he saw Dazai and Chuuya talking from that distance he’d probably only be delighted that his precious brother was making friends; so Dazai slowed down beside the ginger.
“Hey.” He poked the shorter boy’s shoulder. “Heard about the little dog act you’re gonna pull this year.” He said with a smug grin.
Triggering Chuuya was way too easy, the guy gritted his teach and shot the angriest glare at Dazai from just that. “You shut up.” He hissed through his teeth.
“It’ll be really fun don’t you think, you being my dog.” Dazai said with a smile which made him look not much different from the Cheshire cat.
Seeing the ginger boy clench his fists only made Dazai more satisfied. He realized that angering Chuuya may be something he could do all day.
“You watch your fucking words, punk!” Chuuya barked at Dazai with furious eyes.
“Though, isn’t acting like a service dog a little discriminating for those who actually need one? Isn’t it a bit evil? A little cruel?” He leaned in closer to Chuuya, whispering it into the boy’s ear, with that mischievous and smug grin.
“I DIDN’T HAVE ANY SAY IN IT, IT WAS JUST THAT GODDAMN ASSHOLE WHO DECIDED!” Chuuya yelled, switching to Japanese, though, anything that came out of him mouth sounded more like yappanese at this point. And not only that, the mentioned so called ‘goddamned asshole’ had turned around to see what the yelling was about.
“Is something the matter boys?” Verlaine asked from ahead, coming to a halt.
“Ah, no, don’t worry!” Dazai shouted back, that broad smirk still on his face. Which was enough for Verlaine to dismiss them and not think about it anymore, as he turned his head back and continued walking.
Chuuya glared at Dazai, he was cross, furious. How dared this weird lowly poor boy talk to him and make fun of him like that? With how little he knew of magic he could well enough some kind of muggleborn orphan, a filthy mud- “Chuuya. Come here.” Verlaine interrupted his thinking, which was for the best. When his thoughts go too far, his words follow after closely. And Chuuya stomped away from Dazai, up to Verlaine with a sour expression, muttering curses on the bandaged bastard.
“Ah great. Do you know which bus to take? Since you and Arthur come here every now and then, you should know, right?” Verlaine greeted Chuuya with a pat on the back and a warm smile.
“YOU THINK I HAVE THE BRITTISH PUBLIC TRANSPORT SYSTEM MEMORISED?!” Chuuya yelled. Everything was annoying, that rude and insolent kid, Verlaine’s stupid meaningless questions. The sound of all the traffic, the pigeons cooing around them, the other people talking around him, everything. Couldn’t everything just shut up for one second?
“Now, now, let’s calm down, shall we?” Verlaine patted his brother’s shoulder, sensing the anger. When Chuuya was mad, he was mad. “What’s gotten you so worked up?”
Chuuya took a deep breath, and another, and yet another. “Why did we even comply to all this?... This all sucks! The guy’s an insolent brat too...” He mutters, crossing his arms and looking down at his feet with a frustrated and mad expression, but it significantly calmer than the one’s previously displayed on his face.
“Well, right now you’re not really any different, are you?” Verlaine said with a slightly nervous looking smile. Which he shouldn’t have.
“What-you mean by that?” Chuuya shot a glare at the older man.
“Nothing, nothing… I’ll ask someone random about the busses then… You go continue talking with your new friend.” Verlaine removed his hand and motions for Chuuya to go back and join Dazai, who’d been watching them with big curious, cat-like eyes. Creepy, was all that Chuuya could think about it.