Chuuya gathers his items and slips them into his shoulder bag, exiting his class. He's proud of himself for the score he got on his test, which shows in his stride as he bounces up and down with his hands in his pockets. If this trajectory keeps up, surely he'll be at the top of his class for the semester, and hopefully the year as well. That's what he's working toward, anyway.

Boy, graduating summa cum laude would be his ultimate dream. To know what he could potentially obtain from such a thing is glorious. He doesn't know where the rumors came from that he's a party kid. Given the choice, he'd rather study. Not to say he isn't fun at parties at the off chance he attends one, but he prefers to be productive, and prefers his down time to involve much less yelling and drinking. Besides, he spends enough time around drunk college kids already at his job; he doesn't want to subject himself to what he watches people do to themselves every day.

He exits the class building and begins his short trek to his dorm room—when he sees a tall, gangly brunette being pushed around by even taller men. He can't quite make out what the bullies are saying, but he immediately feels a fire ignite within him when the brunette quite literally gets shoved into the wall.

Chuuya doesn't care that he doesn't know who this man is. He sees someone getting bullied, he steps in. He's suddenly very grateful for his martial arts training.

"Oi, troglodytes!" he shouts at the mass of bullies as he walks closer to them, bag still over his shoulder, hands in his pockets. His posture is relaxed and he doesn't look at all afraid, but his tone is harsh. "Where the hell do you get off treatin' someone like that?!"

The one in the middle steps forward. He, too, looks unafraid. "Fuck off, shorty. This doesn't involve you."

"It does now. Now, step away before I make you regret it."

The bullies all look at Chuuya, then each other—and then they burst out laughing. Of course, judging a book by its cover, they assume Chuuya could never hurt them when they're more than a foot taller than him. It's not his fault, they're just incredibly tall.

Chuuya's eyes appear to glow, and a sadistic, bloodthirsty smile forms on his lips. "Oh, you bastards are gonna regret that."

He kicks the one in the middle in the chin, leg moving up almost 180 degrees. When the supposed leader falls, the other three all come running at Chuuya. Chuuya has none of it, however, jumping in the air and kicking each of them in the face, stomach, or between the legs, whichever tickles his fancy at that miniscule fragment of time, all without removing his hands from his pockets. Soon enough, all four of the bullies were on the ground.

"That better teach y'all," Chuuya bites. He kicks the leader in the head, then turns to walk away. Chuuya has never understood people who enjoy bullying. Sure, he himself enjoys physically exerting himself over people sometimes, but only to people who he deems deserves it—like people who smack around and mistreat people for insignificant or uncontrollable things. Or self-absorbed people, or anyone that is just generally an asshole who believes they are superior to any group of people for certain absurd reasons.

"My hero~" croons the "damsel" brunette leaning against the wall, holding a sheet of paper he definitely did not have before. He has a grin on his face that suggests he has something up his sleeve. "105, huh?"

Chuuya stops in his tracks and walks over to this stranger he just saved from bullies. "105 what?"

"Percent. This flew out of your bag while you were putting on that little show. Not bad, if I do say so myself. I got 107," he trills, his simple mischievous grin turning into one of impure pride.

Chuuya scoffs and starts wondering if he made a mistake, saving someone so seemingly conceited. "Gimme that," he growls, and he snatches his test back and puts it back in his bag, this time making sure to secure it into his class-coded folder so it won't fly out next time. "Who are you, anyway?"

The brunette stands up and brushes himself off, smug smile not leaving his face. "Oh? A person at this university that doesn't know me? That's intriguing. Everyone usually revels in my presence, look up to me, practically worship—"

"Just fucking tell me who you are before I beat you up like I did to the people who were bullying you," Chuuya hisses, glaring daggers at the other man.

The brunette's mouth opens to continue his self-centered ramble or tease Chuuya, but he decides to opt for the option that will keep him out of the hospital wing. "Dazai Osamu. Year two student, although I'm surprised I haven't been bumped up a grade or two for my towering intellect to be in a more suited environment. I want to graduate summa cum laude."

Chuuya's hand comes out of his pocket and grips onto the strap of his shoulder bag. "Ah," he says, trying to not sound like he'd been caught off-guard, "with highest honors, huh? That's quite a…prestigious goal."

Dazai shrugs his shoulders. "I'd more say it's befit of a person like me. And who are you, O powerful homunculus?"

Chuuya grits his teeth. "Don't you dare call me that again," he bites. "Nakahara Chuuya. Year three student. I too, am shooting to graduate summa cum laude. And you saw my test scores, you know I could."

Dazai walks closer to Chuuya and studies him, as if he needs to. He's likely just messing with him. "Ah, an older kid, huh? I should've guessed by your very unfun demeanor. You're probably an old soul~"

He says that to annoy Chuuya, but Chuuya just shrugs, not taking any shame in that title. "If 'old soul' means 'focused on the right things', then fine. Although, I should let you know that on the rare occasion that I do attend campus parties, nobody leaves without remembering my name and glory."

Dazai clicks his tongue. "Ah, you go to parties?" he says, seemingly unimpressed. "That's just a holdback. Looks like you may not graduate with highest honors after all~"

Chuuya scoffs, appalled by this man's audacity. "Seldomly! I most of the time spend my free time—"

He stops. He realizes Dazai is just trying to rile him up, and so he stops talking, and immediately assumes a calm facial expression once again. Dazai throws up his eyebrows at such an action, not expecting Chuuya to be able to regain his composure so fast.

Chuuya then walks closer to Dazai, close enough to where their torsos come in contact. He looks up at Dazai, and gives him a challenging expression. "I don't see why we both can't graduate at the top of our classes. What, is success only valuable to you when others fail? If that's the case, you'll never get anywhere, Dazai."

Dazai freezes at that. Not at Chuuya's words—other than his own name. Dazai doesn't understand how, but with such a simple tone and sentence, Chuuya somehow managed to make his name sound sweet. So sweet it was sinful. Like a treat being tantalizingly dangled before him, unattainable.

It lights a fire in Dazai. He now has a feeling that this won't be the end, that things are going to get very fun from here.

"Say…" he murmurs, as if Chuuya's regained composure were Dazai's, and it was stolen from him, "what dorm building do you live in…Chuuya?"

He attempts to make Chuuya's name sound just as delectable and sinful, which normally comes to him as easily as his classwork does. Yet now, for some reason, he feels as if all of his powers have been robbed from him. Or, at the very least, deactivated.

Chuuya can most definitely spot this, and he loves it. Loves knowing that the man who, just a moment ago, was bragging about how much better he may or may not be than Chuuya, is now in front of him, stammering. Chuuya also recognizes that things between them are likely going to get quite fun.

"I live in the Saturn building. You?"

"Ah, me too…good. Which room?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I'd like to have a study session with you, Chuuya. We both have a common goal. And we both seem to be going for very similar degrees, why not help each other?"

Chuuya clicks his tongue again. He knows Dazai doesn't actually want to help him. Why would a man who believes he is superior want to help anyone? There's definitely more to it.

But Chuuya isn't one to back down when he's intrigued.

"Alright. I'm in room 5P. We can meet there after my work shift."

"Oh? Where do you work?"

"I'm a bartender at the pub across the street. Can't miss it. It's got a big neon sign in the front."

"Ah…alright. I'll remember that. Just tell me when you finish your shift."

"Gladly."

And Chuuya promptly spins on his heel and walks away, continuing his original trek to his dorm room. As he walked, he thought about the encounter. Thought about Dazai, the words they exchanged, the way both of their attitudes shifted so much—

It's intriguing.

Chuuya has never had an interaction like that before. He's never felt so weird after an encounter. Sure, he's felt weird many times after meeting people, but that was a bad weird; an uncomfortable weird. And "uncomfortable" is absolutely not a word Chuuya would use to describe that conversation with Dazai. He could swear he felt palpable tension. It was odd and unfamiliar—not to say Chuuya minds that.

He suspects that the study session they'll have tonight will not be their last. He suspects today will not be the only time they meet.

He also suspects his life is about to get much more interesting, in many ways.