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“Congratulations,” Tachihara drawled out, leaning by the counter with a smirk plastered on his face.
“Thank… You…?” Genuinely confused, Chuuya cocked his head to the side, giving Tachihara an expression of puzzlement. Again, this boy evidently had too much free time on his hands.
Tapping a finger on his chin, looking ever so smug, Tachihara began. “Oh, I know.” A dramatic pause, before he pointed a finger at Chuuya. “I know that you and that seaweed head finally got together!”
Ah.
It was not as if Chuuya was trying to keep their newfound relationship a secret. He just was not the kind to go around proclaiming the status of his love life, existent or not. Besides, it would be a rather awkward subject to bring up and maintain, or so he convinced himself of that anyway. What was he going to say? That he had a lover that riled him up so much yet Chuuya could not stand the thought of not being with him? Chuuya would rather not. Slightly over a week had passed since Dazai had made his diabetes-inducing confession to him, but his bothersome antics were already so common that he did not think that Tachihara would have picked up on the developments that occurred between them. (Save for the one time where Dazai caught him off guard and planted a surprise kiss on his forehead, resulting in Chuuya reflexively punching Dazai and giving him a red nose that lasted him for the rest of that day.)
“You still get annoyed whenever he comes over, but you aren’t so quick to chase him out anymore,” explained Tachihara, waving his hands around as if he had just solved the greatest mystery of the decade. An exaggerated sigh followed. “I have lost a valuable member of the Get Rid Seaweed Committee. Everyone, if you will. A moment of silence for the tragedy that has befallen our valuable communi-”
“How about you give me a moment of silence,” interjected Chuuya, raising his clipboard and threatening to throw it at Tachihara’s head if he did not stop spouting nonsense.
Tachihara fully well knew that Chuuya would not miss, so he shut up instantly.
What he did not know, was why Chuuya always had a clipboard (or something that could be weaponised) in his hands at the most convenient of times.
---
The bell at the door of the cafe jingled.
Recently, instead of spending his break time in the florist, Chuuya opted to have it at the cafe instead (much to Tachihara’s disappointment). Whether it was by coincidence or by choice, Chuuya’s break times often coincided with the non-peak hours of the cafe. Not that it was to his displeasure though, since he was actually thankful the serenity that it provided him with. Crowds were truly the bane of his life and he could not be happier to have the entire space to himself. It also allowed for Dazai to entertain him more while he was there, but of course , that was just a side benefit.
“Ah, it’s Dazai’s boyfriend. Welcome!”
Taken aback by the sudden declaration, Chuuya stood rooted at the entrance for a brief moment. It had been some time since he last saw the kid – his exams have probably ended already – but Atsushi was beaming at him with such wide-eyed innocence that he could not bring himself to get mad or yell at him, and for no particularly good reason either. Ultimately, it was with great chance that Dazai himself was running his mouth, yet again.
So it seemed that the best he could do was to manage a lacklustre “ah, yes”, before mentally composing himself and walking over to the counter to place his order.
“I’ll have… Iced Americano with Irish cream, please.”
“Sure thing!” Atsushi chirped as he rang up Chuuya’s order. The liveliness and vigour of a senior high school student who has just been released from the hellish clutches of exams were truly terrifying.
Almost on cue, Kunikida appeared right behind the counter as well, exchanging greetings with the florist. Apart from Atsushi’s humming in the background, an uncomfortable silence had befallen over the duo.
It was Kunikida who first broke the silence by clearing his throat. “I sent him out on an errand because he was getting too restless from having nothing to do. My apologies for taking away your time with him.”
“No that’s fine. It’s no problem at-”
They all know.
Chuuya groaned audibly, planting his face into his hands. “That idiot.”
“Well,” Kunikida spoke, pushing up his glasses carefully. “He’s your idiot now.”
Chuuya looked up from his hands. “Can I have a refund?”
“I’m afraid not, dear customer,” Kunikida replied with an extraordinarily straight face even as he played along.
The ice between the two had melted, with both stifling touches of laughter. It had appeared that making jabs at Dazai was an excellent way to bond them, they had found out. After all, the both of them had been through the sheer agony of having being terrorised by the shenanigans of that one man alone.
Having been served his drink, Chuuya took a seat at a couch with Kunikida following suit.
“I have to say, I’m surprised,” Kunikida said, crossing his legs.
A sip of his coffee and Chuuya exhaled. “Trust me, no one is more surprised than I am.”
“Well, as long you’re happy, I suppose.” Kunikida lulled his head to a side. “I know for sure Dazai is. He hasn’t shut up about you since you two got together.” Recalling his words, he blinked a couple of times. “Sorry, I didn’t mean that in an offensive way.”
“None taken,” Chuuya replied dismissively, taking another sip of his drink. He made a mental note to himself – it was good, but objectively, Dazai’s was better. “In fact, you have free reign to do whatever it takes to shut him up.”
Kunikida leaned forward and placed a hand over his own heart, a sincere look in his eyes. “The sentiment is much appreciated.”
Leaning back into his seat, Kunikida continued. “I’m not sure if you already know, but I thought that you should know about this anyway.” Chuuya eyed at him quizzically.
“It’s Dazai’s birthday next Tuesday.”
The cup almost slipped out of Chuuya’s hands.
---
One week. One whole week was all he had to prepare for Dazai’s first birthday celebration with him and Chuuya was slowly losing the last two brain cells he was left with. The first thing that ran through his head was the nerve of that guy , but it was not as if Dazai had control over the series of events that happened, in any case. Even he would not be able to predict something this far in the future. Still, after reasoning that out, it did not help Chuuya’s situation one bit. He had gone around consulting Atsushi, Kunikida and even Tachihara, because god knows what that alien actually took interest in other than his more-than-occasional mention of a double suicide. Disappointed but not surprised, his search yielded less than desirable results.
Ah, the joys of dating an enigma.
It then occurred to Chuuya that strangely enough, Dazai had never once dropped a hint about this momentous date whenever they were together. Chuuya had assumed that for someone of his character, he would have shamelessly declared to everyone when his birthday was and that he would be expecting to receive presents on that day. On the contrary, there was no mention of it at all. It could not be that Chuuya had missed out on it or had forgotten about it since one, he was a great listener, two, he had impeccable memory and three, it was about Dazai. Call him a romantic but it was the first time that he had got into a relationship himself, after all. Up till this point in time, all his experiences regarding dating only involved him hearing his friends talk about their significant others and how they celebrated “monthsaries” and the like. More or less, the drill was the same. Surprise them with a gift, go out for dinner and drinks, insert a wild card of your choice for a memorable way to end the night.
It had all seemed pretty standard to Chuuya, like a standard mathematics formula.
It had all seemed pretty boring to Chuuya too, but until he had a better plan, it looked like he just had to stick to this one.
---
Time flew by and soon it was the day of Dazai’s birthday.
“Happy birthday, Dazai,” Kunikida greeted Dazai calmly as soon as the latter stepped foot into the store.
Atsushi too chimed in with a “happy birthday!”, beaming at him brightly as he tapped Dazai on the shoulder from behind.
“Well,” Dazai chuckled. “This is a surprise. I didn’t think you would actually read the form I filled in.”
“I read everything , Dazai,” Kunikida scoffed, as though he had just been mortally insulted. “Especially if it comes from you, no less.”
“Aw, I’m honoured.”
“It wasn’t meant to be a compliment.”
Atsushi, despite caught in their crossfire (it was but a daily affair), reached into his bag and handed Dazai an all too familiar looking red-coloured box.
A first-aid kit.
Flustered, Atsushi began to explain himself for the odd choice of gift. “You’re always bandaged up so I assumed you get injured pretty often! Sorry, I didn’t know what else to get you… “ His enthusiasm quickly dissipated as he trailed off, looking down and fiddling with his fingers meekly.
Dazai smiled, patting the younger boy on his head. It was such an Atsushi-like thing to do to get him a gift this practical. Nonetheless, he appreciated the sentiment as he received his present with thanks.
On the other hand, Kunikida had handed him a notebook quite similar to his, which was neatly wrapped up in brown craft paper, decorated with a simple ribbon. Again, another gift that was truly characteristic of the giver, not that Dazai was complaining.
“Is this an attempt to get me started on scheduling?” Inquired Dazai as soon as he unwrapped the present, with a look of amusement written all over his countenance.
“Yes,” came the immediate reply from his boss. “But I don’t particularly expect you to do so anyway, so do as you deem fit with that.”
Kunikida’s straightforward honesty was truly refreshing. “Wonderful, because I’m not making any promises here,” he grinned, waving the book around before keeping it in his bag.
Dazai had forgotten the feeling of celebrating his birthday. Rather, it was more apt to say that he had buried those exact feelings away, after the passing of Oda. Last year on this date, he could not even remember what he had done. Nothing special, most likely. Besides, during that period of his life, every day was the same – wake up, eat, rinse and repeat. Now that he was surrounded by an entirely new and different group of people in his life, it appeared that this year would be slightly different.
Regardless of the fact that today was indeed Dazai’s birthday, Kunikida still did not give him any leeway to slack off, not that Dazai was hoping for much. Chuuya had come into the cafe once, just to have his usual cup of coffee, the cup that only Dazai knew how to prepare that was exactly to his liking. Chuuya had also, of course, invited Dazai over to his place for dinner that very same day, to which he had most suspiciously eagerly accepted, making Chuuya rethink his options a second time over.
Now, Dazai was no fool and Chuuya was as easy to read as daylight. Still, the former was filled with anticipation as he looked forward to what surprises that Chuuya would in store for him that night. The day could not have ended any sooner.
---
The doorbell rang precisely at seven, much to Chuuya’s amazement. He had supposed that Dazai would be late by at least ten minutes and his prompt arrival had unfortunately thrown a wrench into his plans.
“Ten minutes!”
Dazai was received at the door as such, before Chuuya flew back into the kitchen and flitted around to make final preparations for the dinner. Having being stranded at the entrance, Dazai took it upon himself to laze on the couch, taking in his surroundings. He really was in here, in Chuuya’s home. It dawned upon him that his own living quarters paled in comparison to that of Chuuya’s – no wonder he was complaining so much . While the former was bleak and lacking proper furnishings, Chuuya had marbled flooring and carefully selected drapery that matched with the elegant wallpaper of his otherwise humble abode. He also had a balcony that was decorated with potted plants of various species, not that it was something worth being surprised about.
After what seemed to be an eternity, the table was finally set. Two plates of thick, juicy salmon fillet fresh out of the oven, accompanied by baked potato dressed with mayonnaise and bacon bits. If Dazai had known that his boyfriend could cook up such appetising western fare on the fly, he definitely would not have to resort to having canned crab meat for dinner every day. Dazai would love nothing more than to start on his meal right away, but he was simply captivated by the flowers that were displayed in the vase before him.
“Peach flowers. They’re beautiful,” Dazai commented, reaching forward and twirling a stalk between his long fingers.
His ears tinged a shade of red, Chuuya averted his eyes from Dazai’s. “They’re for you to keep.”
Dazai hummed thoughtfully. Embarrassment was an entertaining look on him and how Dazai loved to tease him so for it.
“Is today special?” He smiled as he returned the flower back where it belonged, placing his fingers together expectantly.
With a click of his tongue, Chuuya uncorked a wine bottle – oaked chardonnay, complementing perfectly with the fish – pouring glasses for himself and Dazai.
“Only if you want it to be.”
They toasted and they ate.
“I don’t ever recall asking you to sleep over,” grumbled Chuuya as he tousled the sheets above them.
Dazai extended his limbs like a starfish, lumberingly landing his arm on top of Chuuya’s face. “But you have such a big bed, it would be a waste to keep it for a small- Ow!”
Chuuya had forcefully jabbed him on the sides mid-sentence, effectively removing the deadweight from his face as well.
“Don’t give me that, you even brought a spare set!”
“That’s because I definitely wouldn’t be able to fit into Chuuya’s clothes,” Dazai had replied, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
The other only rolled his eyes, having given up the will to continue this incessant bickering with Dazai that would only end up nowhere.
“Go to sleep, we have work tomorrow.”
“But you’re the boss,” whined Dazai.
“Well, you’re not.”
Playfully, Dazai tackled Chuuya, only eliciting a tired groan from him as the latter did not bother himself with fighting back. If only Dazai had half the amount of energy when he was working at the cafe.
After a while – maybe a short one, maybe a long one – they had finally calmed down, with Chuuya breathing steadily while being held in the arms of Dazai.
“Happy birthday, you mackerel,” Chuuya breathed out, his flushed face turned away from Dazai.
Dazai raised an amused eyebrow, burying his face into Chuuya’s hair and took a whiff of his scent. He smelled nice (he always did). “Where did that even come from?” Silence. There wasn’t a reply from Chuuya. “Well then, if I’m a mackerel, you’re a slug.”
“That’s gross,” Chuuya scoffed.
“Yeah, I love you too,” Dazai spoke tenderly, his voice laced with drowsiness, eventually letting sleep take him.
It was then Chuuya understood, that even though the formula was the same, the variables were not. Rightly so, the only thing that mattered was the company that they had found each other enveloped within.
It had all seemed pretty standard to Chuuya, because he wanted every day to be like this.
And it appeared that from this year onwards, Dazai’s birthday would be different from what it had always been.