The first task
After a lot of struggling Verlaine had managed to get a hold of the so very important and vital information about what busses to take to get to the house that they’d be staying in. Verlaine had refused to take a taxi, much to Chuuya’s dismay. He wanted Dazai to take advantage of his first time in London, and really get the ‘feelings’ of the place. The man went all the way and even got the whole party Fish’n Chips. Dazai got to go on those red busses too when they were on the way to the house. God, London was even built in a different way than Yokohama. It looked, ehh, British? He couldn’t really find the right words.
The house was nice as well, really nice. Way nicer than his ordinary trashy, leaking, moulding, dumpster-home. Dazai had even got a proper well-looked after and brand-new bed. Even though it was a bunk bed that he had to share with Chuuya, and he didn’t even get to have the top bunk, it was better than anything he could ever remember sleeping on. But that wasn’t even the most unsuspected and cool thing he had experienced during that day. When arriving to the house, a letter was waiting for him, Dazai, right at the doorstep.
” Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry
Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)
Dear Osamu Dazai
We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31.
Yours sincerely,
Minerva McGonagall Deputy Headmistress”
Verlaine had given him a pat on the back, said something about how it’s incredible that they always know and congratulated him while Chuuya had been sulking. The ginger was absolutely jealous out of his mind! Dazai couldn’t help but snicker at that thought.
The letter looked ancient when he took a nicer look, the paper was yellow, was it 600 years old or just really bad looked after? It felt rougher too, reminded him off baking paper, but thicker. Was Hogwarts 500 years back in history or something? What held Hogwarts back from using normal paper? The envelope even had a seal on it. Was he some sort of honouree and super-duper special VIP student? God, now not only the French were weird, but the Brits too. But the French were definitely worse.
What Dazai got to know his first night at that new house was that he will not sleep soundly anytime soon if Chuuya snores like he does in human for in dog form. Dazai had thought that only old people snored, but that was clearly not the case. Or maybe Chuuya actually was an old person in secret. But the amount of sleep the French required was even more shocking. Dazai himself had woken up at 5AM sharp. And when he had slinked inside the bathroom to change his clothes and quickly just “clean” his bandages with a small splash of water the whole house had been quiet, Dazai had just thought that the walls were incredibly soundproof. But when he had come back to the shared bedroom his ears picked up the sound of Chuuya’s insufferable snoring again. He thought that Chuuya seemed like a person to sleep in and be lazy. But when he came down to the kitchen, it was quiet, the dining room, if not more silent than the latter room, living room, not a sound to be heard. Not even Verlaine was up. Verlaine first got up somewhere after 8:15AM, in boxers and a T-shirt and a sleeping mask on over one eye. The boy was greeted with a quick “morning” in slurred Japanese. While Chuuya took his time and decided to bless them with his awful morning mood at 10AM. Usually by this time Dazai would be out somewhere doing whatever mission Mori had for him long ago, but today he hadn’t even gotten instructions. The French really did value their mornings.
When Chuuya finally had gotten one of the biggest breakfasts Dazai had ever witnessed someone consume (It was like watching Elise eat cake), Verlaine brought up today’s plan.
- Pick up Rimbaud from the airport
- Magic training
- Get groceries
The simplicity of their to-do list shocked Dazai, only three tasks, and he wouldn’t even have to do one of them? How did the French survive on this earth? How could something be so simple and easy? The only thing interesting was the Magic training. The rest of it all could be forgotten in his mind, go to the airport and wait there, then not even driving back themselves but taking a cab?
Get groceries? Its walking around and then carrying back bags.
*
The Airport was just as stressful and rushed as it was in Yokohama, even though they were outside. Standing there, waiting, and waiting, waiting some more, why not wait for additionally a little while? In conclusion, the waiting was boring, so boring Dazai thought that he might’ve died right then and there. So, to ease this suffering, he decided to chat with Chuuya.
“Chuuya, I have a question, it’s about magic, since you seem to know a lot.” Start of with some compliments and flattery, he’ll let it all go to his head.
Chuuya turned his head to Dazai and scoffs. “What?” So little hostility! He knew it’d work.
“Is there a potion that makes you taller, I’m thinking of potential birthday presents for a certain someone…” Dazai grinned, his dark blank eyes staring into Chuuya’s lighter varicoloured orbs, like holes trying to eat away all light and joy in them.
The ginger gritted his teeth. “Well fuck you too.” He barked and walked away from Dazai. So the fun didn’t last long. Aaahh... how he hoped this man they were waiting for would arrive. Couldn’t he hurry up? The plane was supposed to have arrived 20 minutes ago; it can’t take that long to get out of an airport. How long could it take? He was bored again, so bored.
“Arthur!” Dazai’s thoughts were cut off when Verlaine walked past him. The boy looked up to see a man, quite beautiful he must say walk up the party. “We’ve been waiting quite the while, was someone causing you trouble?” Verlaine approached the man, he looked so happy, there was so much joy on the man’s face, so much love. So this was the well-known and talked about Arthur Rimbaud. Long dark hair, in a beige coat. Wearing a coat in July? Was he crazy? The dude was walking around with a scarf too! Did he come from the north pole? Not even in the cab on the way back home did he take of the coat or scarf. Guess what, the man complained about how cold it was and whipped up a pair of ear muffs, ear muffs. God , the French were getting stranger and stranger.