Mori’s solution to Soukoku’s constant fighting had been… questionable, to say the least.

“One month,” Mori had said with a smile that immediately made both fifteen-year-olds suspicious. “You’ll be staying together until you learn how to get along.”

Neither Dazai nor Chuuya had been given much choice.

The first few days were exactly as awful as expected. They argued over food, over chores, over who got the better sleeping spot, and somehow even over how to properly make tea. Chuuya was convinced he was living with a particularly annoying stray cat disguised as a human being.

Then, on the seventh day, Dazai stopped being annoying.

It started with him sleeping later than usual. Then he skipped breakfast. Then lunch. By evening, he was curled up on the couch under three blankets, pale as paper and shivering despite the summer heat.

“You look like you’re dying.”

Dazai weakly opened one eye. “Thank you, Chuuya. Your concern warms my heart.”

“You have a fever, idiot.”

“I always have a fever. It’s called being alive.”

Chuuya rolled his eyes, but when he pressed a hand against Dazai’s forehead, his expression immediately changed.

“…Holy crap.”

Dazai was burning up.

Over the next few days, things only got worse. Dazai could barely stand without nearly collapsing, and every attempt to joke ended with a coughing fit that left him breathless. With no adults around and no way he was letting Mori know about this, Chuuya found himself doing things he’d never imagined.

Making soup.

Forcing Dazai to take medicine.

Dragging blankets over him when he fell asleep in random places.

And listening to his endless complaints.

“This medicine tastes terrible.”

“It’s cherry flavored.”

“Exactly.”

“Just shut up and take it.”

Dazai groaned dramatically before swallowing it. A few moments later, he slumped against the couch cushions, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion.

For once, he didn’t have a sarcastic comment ready.

The apartment fell strangely quiet.

“…Hey,” Chuuya muttered.

Dazai hummed weakly.

“You better get better soon.”

A faint smile tugged at Dazai’s lips.

“What? Miss me already?”

“Don’t push it.”

But despite his words, Chuuya stayed right where he was beside him.

And for the first time since moving in together, neither of them started an argument.*