Sixelona's Art

[...]

The quick, light steps were not, however, the gait Ango was expecting. The partially open gap in the sliding door widened, muted grind of the wood in the track pulling his attention immediately to the tatami room as a familiar young face came into the hallway.

“You’re ba--!” The child stopped dead in the middle of his sentence when he noticed the other boy, staring directly at Chuuya standing just past Ango.

Exasperated, Ango sat Chuuya’s bag down against the wall, bringing himself down to the same level as the children by squatting, some of his training kicking in before he could catch it. “Osamu, it’s past bedtime. Why are you out of bed?”

[...]

Chuuya was suddenly greeted by the face of a boy with messy, wild brunette hair, wearing comfy-looking clothing with sharks printed on them. Their eyes met instantly, deep blue to amber brown, and Chuuya could feel a warmth in his heart, blossoming throughout his chest and causing his cheeks to turn pink. He couldn’t understand it, but the other child obviously sensed something too.

The words exchanged between Ango and Dazai were lost to the redhead, taking in this strange feeling that he’d never felt before. It was a bit scary, but it also felt comforting, like he finally was where he needed to be. Ignoring the conversation, Chuuya’s focus was on the reddened eyes. Did someone make the brunette cry?

[...]

“I’m not--” Ango seemed to pause, realizing he was arguing with a child about using his given name instead of his surname to address him. And that there was another child present, that if he caught it from a glance correctly, Osamu seemed to be staring at. Intensely. Knowing him, or rather knowing how unpredictable this boy was… that couldn’t be anything good. He moved to step into Osamu’s field of view to break eye contact, if even briefly. It didn’t work, as Osamu just leaned to the side to look around him.

“You’re short.” he said suddenly, making Ango sputter, hissing out his full name in reprimand. Which, seemingly, was exactly what he had wanted, going by the little twinkle in his eye. Bizarre child.

“That’s me~”

[...]

Striding forward without a word, not hearing Dazai call him short, Chuuya moved his hand out to cup the side of the slightly taller boy’s face, a pout on his own round face.

“Why’s yer eyes all red? Did someone hit you or hurt you or somethin’?” He looked around as if he’d immediately see who caused those puffy red eyes, but saw no one except for Ango the Owl-Man. And it couldn’t have been him because Chuuya was in the car with him.

Making a small huff, he looked back up at Dazai, putting his other hand on the other cheek, cupping the soft face in his hands, and looking determined. “If someone’s mean to ya I’ll beat ‘em up, kay? Yer mine and I don't like people hurting somethin’ that’s mine.”

[...]

Dazai's eyes widen a little more when the new kid approached, and it took everything in him not to tense up like this other boy, that looked more like a stray kitten in his opinion, was a threat. Hands that weren’t much smaller than his own landing on his cheek and it almost felt like he had touched his face to a heater in winter. And the warmth just spread. And then it was two hands and he was quite cozy all over, blinking owlishly at the weird, new, thing happening. In a blink, his surprise melted into a smile that crinkled his eyes and nose just a tiny bit.

The warmth soaking into him felt like home.