Chapter Text
"Chuuya! Help me with these boxes!" Fuku called from the moving truck parked in front of their new house.
Chuuya groaned, dragging his feet across the driveway. "Can't Koyo help?"
"She's unpacking the kitchen."
He sighed dramatically and picked up the lightest box he could find. As he headed toward the porch, he glanced across the street.
A boy he'd never seen before was sitting in the front yard of the house across from theirs, a book resting against his knees. Well, of course Chuuya had never seen him before—they had just moved into this neighborhood.
The boy had messy dark brown hair that looked like it had never met a comb, warm brown eyes, and a smile that made him seem instantly approachable. To ten-year-old Chuuya, that was amazing.
Chuuya lifted his hand and gave the boy a small wave.
The boy looked up from his book and met Chuuya's mismatched eyes. He carefully closed the book, set it beside him, and waved back with a warm smile.
Maybe moving here wouldn't be so bad after all.
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The Next Day
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Chuuya and Dazai became close surprisingly fast, despite their constant need to argue. "Dazai! Wanna play ball?" Chuuya asked, holding up a bright blue bouncy ball. Dazai looked over and smiled. "Sure! I bet I'm better at it than you, slug!" Chuuya gasped dramatically. "I doubt that, you smelly mackerel!" The two boys laughed as they took turns throwing the ball farther and farther across the yard, each one determined to throw it farther than the other. Before they knew it, Fuku was calling them inside for dinner. "Food's ready!" They looked at each other before racing toward Chuuya's house. "I won!" "No you didn't!" "I totally did!" "Liar!" They'd only known each other for a day, but somehow they were already at the sleepover stage. Koyo rolled her eyes as Chuuya stuck his tongue out at her. "Mom, you've got to be kidding! I asked if Yosano could come over and you said no!" Fuku turned around from the stove, where a pot of miso soup simmered. Fresh green onions lay on the cutting board beside her. "Well, maybe if you weren't saying you wanted to make out with her, I would've let her come over," Fuku teased. "But if you like her, I don't know about sleepovers." "Moooom!" Chuuya and Dazai burst into laughter while Koyo covered her face in embarrassment. "You two aren't funny!" she huffed before stomping upstairs. Still smiling, Fuku ladled the steaming soup into bowls and set them on the table. "Thank you!" the boys said in unison. The warm glow of the setting sun spilled through the dining room windows, painting everything in shades of gold. As Chuuya glanced over at Dazai happily eating his soup, he smiled to himself. Maybe this place could finally feel like home.