Chapter Text
Dazai’s brain is foggy and filled with nothing but the sound of chatter and wine glasses clinking together. The lights of the chandeliers and the ones decorating the large Christmas tree in the center of the room are blinding, sending Dazai into the most dreadful place in his brain. Two bickering siblings who he’s never seen before run into the table next to him, followed by a yelling mother who got too distracted flirting with someone who is most definitely not her husband to notice they had run off. Dazai’s father is talking with some partner at their family’s company and someone is snapping at him, but his mind isn’t aware enough to respond.
“Osamu? Osamu I swear to God–” Unfortunately that someone had to be his mother, so he’d have to respond whether he liked it or not. “Dear–” She begins calling for his father, but Dazai would rather do anything but talk to him right now.
Holding back an eye roll, Dazai finally musters up the effort to respond. “Yes, Mother?” He asks, preparing himself to be bombarded by questions about why he didn’t respond and requests to go speak to some random person he didn’t know but had some sort of connection to the family company.
“Oh finally–” There it is. “You keep doing that! Is that therapist your father and I paid so much for doing nothing?” She says, despite knowing they had plenty enough money to spend. Dazai is still bitter that she was so reluctant to get him one for so long, the idea of her taking that away from him is terrifying.
Dazai sighs, “I promise the therapist is doing plenty. Now could we change the topic?”
He watches as she bites her lip like she wants to say something but is holding it back.
“Could you take your siblings to grab some food? They’re getting on my nerves,” She says finally, gesturing to his two siblings, who are doing nothing but standing there and speaking to each other in soft voices.
Dazai holds back a remark on how awful her parenting is and relaxes his shoulders, “Of course, Mother.”
She smiles that fake smile Dazai saw her give his father after she found out about his affair. (They’re still together, not because they thought it would be best for their family but because they thought separating would cause damage to the family name.)
“Thank you, Osamu,” She says before blowing kisses toward his siblings. “Don’t cause too much of a ruckus.”
Dazai returns the smile before spinning around to face his siblings, his demeanor completely changing. “Let’s go get some food, I saw they had the sparkling cider you two love so much.”
Their faces immediately light up with bright smiles, and they follow Dazai to the long tables stacked with bland food, treats for the children, and alcohol.
Dazai watches as his siblings pile their plates with crackers, cheese, and meats before he grabs himself a glass of whiskey. As he takes his first sip, he hears the sound of a piano begin to fill the room. It isn’t odd for his parents to hire someone to play music for these parties. Sometimes they were just too stuffy for their own good and needed a bit of music to spice things up. But they would never spice things up too much, they usually hired some old man to play the most mournful songs he could find on the piano, or a retired violinist who you could tell was retired for a reason.
But today, the music was different. It was piano, but it didn’t sound as flat or depressing as it usually did. This time it was spirited and passionate, it didn’t sound like the type of music that would ever be played at one of his parents' awful Christmas parties at all.
Dazai’s eyes scan the ballroom for the grand piano that was there every year regardless of whether it was being played or not. When he finally saw it, his eyes caught on the person sitting in front of it.
He was small, feet barely grazing the ground, but carried a large presence. Dazai’s eyes wandered up the person's back to the long, wavy auburn hair on his head and the tacky hat that sat atop it.
Dazai’s eyes narrowed as he turned to try and get a view of the redhead’s face (not that he was curious). He made his way to the other side of the table, completely forgetting about his siblings as he tried to subtly see what the man looked like.
Finally, the man turned his head slightly, giving Dazai a full view of his face.
To say Dazai was immediately captivated would be an understatement. The man’s eyes were two different colors. One was a sapphire blue while the other was the woody brown color of burning logs in a fireplace. His milky skin was colored in freckles and his lips were turned up in a small, peaceful smile. He wasn’t just captivated, he was bewitched.
Dazai quickly wiped the stunned expression off his face before turning towards his two siblings. “I’ll be right back!” He tells them, “If Mom asks, I had to use the restroom, don’t break anything.”
Hurriedly, Dazai scurries to the man seated at the piano near the corner of the room.
“I didn’t know they were hiring children to entertain these things now,” Dazai says as soon as he approaches him. He watches as the man’s back straightens, clearly irritated by the comment Dazai made, but he doesn’t say anything.
“Ignoring me? How rude. What kind of entertainment doesn’t properly entertain the guests?” Dazai isn’t a guest, but it's not like he knows that.
The pianist's fingers don’t stop, but he does slightly adjust his position to look Dazai in the eye.
“You’re not supposed to acknowledge the fact that I’m here, don’t you know anything about these stuck-up rich people parties? Or are you just an asshole who snuck himself in?” He snaps (though quietly so the people around won't hear him.)
Dazai grins, “Oh trust me I am, unfortunately, incredibly familiar with these parties. I’m not a fan either.”
“Oh, aren't you special?” The man says sarcastically. “Now you’re just an asshole with an invitation.”
“Why are you here if you don’t want to be?” Dazai asks, choosing to ignore the asshole comment.
The man bites the inside of his cheek, deciding whether he should answer or not. “I could ask you the same,” He says, choosing to go the long way.
Shaking his head slightly, Dazai leans against the piano. “Well, if you must know, my parents throw this party every year. I don’t have a choice.” He says. “Your turn.”
“I’m saving up a little extra money to buy my friends gifts this year,” He says reluctantly like he expects Dazai to make fun of him or something.
“I could help,” Dazai says, clearly the opposite of what the man was expecting because his head immediately shoots up in surprise.
“Fuck no?” He barks, a little too loud. “I don’t even know you?”
Dazai crosses his arms with a smile, “I have more than enough money to help those in need.”
The man glares at him in response, “I couldn’t care less. I like buying them presents myself. Go away.”
“So you’re a big fan of the Christmas spirit, then?” Dazai responds, not budging.
“What, are you not?”
Dazai shoots him a flat look.
The man in front of him looks more surprised than expected. “Why not?” He asks, like someone not liking Christmas is something unheard of.
“Christmas for my family consists of nothing more than these awful Christmas parties. It’s what my parents do every year to make it seem like they spend time with their children when they never do. I used to celebrate, I’d bake cookies and decorate the tree but once I realized that other kids did those things with their families while I did them with the maids I got tired of it,” Dazai explains.
The man looks unimpressed, clearly not as affected by his sob story as he anticipated. He opens his mouth, and instead of I’m sorry or That’s awful all he says is, “That’s stupid.”
Dazai laughs, “What? How?”
“Well, obviously you would hate Christmas if that’s how it's always been for you. But as soon as you spend it with people who actually care about you you’ll probably enjoy it,”
Dazai opens his mouth to respond, but he isn’t done yet.
“As long as we’re sharing sob stories, let me tell you something,” He says, beckoning Dazai to get closer with a nudge of his head as his hands are still occupied playing the piano (something Dazai had long forgotten about). “My parents died when I was seven years old. I hated Christmas because after they passed, I was alone. I didn’t spend Christmas with anyone until someone found me on the streets and I was put into foster care. I didn’t enjoy Christmas as much as I did before, but as soon as I was adopted and found myself friends and family who loved and cared for me, I was able to enjoy Christmas like I never had.”
Dazai didn’t respond for a while, but when he did it was almost forced. “So, what are you saying?” He ended up asking.
“I’m saying Christmas is only bad for you because you’re not spending it with the right people,” The man says.
Dazai shakes his head, “I doubt that.”
A grin spreads across the redhead’s face, “Then let's make a bet on it.”
Returning the smile, Dazai nods, “What is it?”
The man flips the page of the music he’s playing before responding, “You spend Christmas with me, my friends, and family, and if you still hate Christmas after that then you’re right, Christmas sucks.”
“And what happens if I don’t?” Dazai asks.
“Then you have to get me a present that I’ll love.”
Dazai bursts into laughter, completely forgetting about the people around them.
“What?” The pianist asks.
“A minute ago you were telling me I couldn’t help pay for your friend’s presents because you don’t know me and saying I should go away, and now you’re telling me to spend Christmas with you,” Dazai explains.
The man rolls his eyes, “Winning the bet sounds like more of a worthwhile reward than getting you to go away.”
Dazai meets his grin with a blissful sigh, “Why not?”
He watches as the man’s hands quickly reach for a pen and piece of paper from his bag after he finishes the piece he was playing. He scribbles down a few words and hands the piece of paper to Dazai.
“Here,” he says, “Meet me at this cafe after the party ends, we can discuss details there.”
Dazai nods and takes the paper. “You know,” He says. “If we’re going to be spending Christmas together, don’t you think I should know your name?”
The man tugs his eyebrows together before sighing, “It’s Chuuya. Don’t act like you never told me your name either.”
Dazai smiles, “Nice to meet you, Chuuya. I’m Dazai.”
Chuuya opens his mouth to say something but is immediately interrupted by someone who smells of overpriced perfume and laundry detergent.
“Osamu, I thought I told you to watch your siblings?” She says as if Chuuya isn’t there.
It takes a look at Chuuya’s slightly open mouth and Dazai’s relaxed posture for her to finally acknowledge his existence.
“Oh, I am so sorry!” She apologizes hurriedly. “Was Osamu bothering you?” She says, before turning toward her son. “I leave you alone for a minute! God, you are an adult! Why can’t you start acting like one? Harassing the poor pianist, really? Do better,” Chuuya grins at Dazai as his mother continues to berate him while pulling him away.
Dazai smiles back and waves before turning to finally respond to his mother's endless admonishment.
—
Snow lays itself delicately on the sidewalk and the hair on Dazai’s head as he makes his way to the address Chuuya wrote down for him during the party. He walks faster than he normally would, buzzing with anticipation to see Chuuya again. After his mother pulled him away and forced him to watch his siblings for the rest of the party (which he was miserable doing) Dazai found himself staring at Chuuya until the people began filling out and his music faded into the night. He didn’t know why he expected Chuuya to look back at him, as he was obviously occupied, but he couldn’t help the disappointed feeling that rested in his stomach as he left the party.
Despite this, he doesn’t forget what Chuuya told him. As soon as he had convinced his mother to stop bugging him, he rushed to the cafe Chuuya promised to meet him at.
Now, Dazai was beginning to regret not getting one of the family’s drivers to take him–which he originally decided against since he didn’t want anyone asking questions–but now really wished he had as the snowy cold was starting to get to him–which was evident from the red in his face and the slight discoloration of his lips.
Fortunately for him, he was a turn around the corner away from the cafe he hoped (as he barely knew Chuuya, and he could very much be using this as an opportunity to get back at Dazai for teasing him earlier) Chuuya would be meeting him at.
As Dazai nears the end of his trek, he’s met with a small and cozy-looking cafe. He hadn’t even stepped inside yet and he could already tell the place was one of those homey places people gushed over that of course Chuuya was interested in. He felt as if he was in one of those awful Christmas movies, about to step into a cafe where the owner personally knew everyone who’d ordered from him.
Holding his breath, Dazai pulls open the door. It opens silently and he’s greeted by the smell of coffee mixed with secondhand books and peppermint. The place is dimly lit by lamps and many Christmas lights, it’s decorated with a Christmas tree in the corner, several different Christmas decorations, and many full tables.
Dazai’s eyes scan across the room, searching for that familiar head of red hair. After a few minutes of squinting (he really needed to wear his glasses), Dazai finds Chuuya sitting next to the Christmas tree in the corner scrolling through his phone with two mugs in front of him.
A bright smile lights up Dazai’s face the second he recognizes him, and he quickly walks (or sprints, depending on who you ask) to the seat in front of Chuuya.
Chuuya’s head shoots up, and the expression Dazai’s blurry vision sees is that of genuine surprise, like he didn’t think Dazai would show up (which confuses Dazai, as he ordered two cups of hot cocoa, not one.)
“Aw, you bought me a drink? How cute,” Dazai teases as he sits down, meeting Chuuya’s warning gaze.
Chuuya glares at him as he tucks his phone into his bag. “I mostly bought it for myself, didn’t think you’d show up,” He says, pushing the drink toward Dazai. “You should drink it, it's the first step to a good Christmas.”
Dazai smiles, “Already getting started?”
“It started as soon as you entered. Nothing’s more Christmas than walking in the snow to a cozy little cafe on the corner of a busy street.”
Dazai chooses to not ask about how Chuuya knows he walked here. “Is sitting in said cafe all alone wondering if your date ditched you Christmas as well?” He asks instead, cupping his hands around the warm mug. It’s decorated with whipped cream, marshmallows, and a candy cane like the fake cups of hot chocolate in the commercials.
“ Date?” Chuuya laughs, but Dazai can’t help but notice the red tint in his cheeks as he says that. “Don’t get your hopes up.”
A grin spreads itself across Dazai’s face, but he quickly masks it with an–obviously fake–frown. “Aw, Chuuya doesn’t want me to be his date? How hurtful,” He whines.
Chuuya shakes his head with a smile, “Just not particularly interested in dating right now…and I would say it has nothing to do with you but that would be a lie.”
“Ah!” Dazai feigned offense, “Chuuya’s so rude.”
“I’m only telling the truth! Plus, I much prefer the satisfaction of beating you in our bet than some sham relationship,” Chuuya says, quickly defending himself.
“Sham relationship? Is Chuuya not fond of love?” Dazai asks, curious.
Chuuya shrugs, “Not love, just dating.”
“Why?”
“I’ve just never seen the appeal of going on dates and stuff if it's not with someone you’re in love with. Whenever my friends went on dates in high school I always assumed they were already in a relationship with that person and in love. When I found out they were only dating to see if they could fall in love I thought it was weird. Where’s the fun in that?” Chuuya explains.
“That’s understandable. You’re not alone in that though,” Dazai says, leaning forward slightly.
“I did feel alone back in high school, but I guess that also was the time when everyone started experiencing new things and trying out romance and dating for the first time. I was just waiting for the right person to come to me.”
Dazai nods, focusing on the way Chuuya’s hands are still around the mug and not fidgeting for the first time since he sat down here. He almost smiles at the thought of Chuuya relaxing around him.
“I feel like I just spilled my whole life story to you. Sorry, was that too much?” Chuuya says, tightening his grip around the mug.
Dazai smiles softly, “Not at all! If we’re going to spend Christmas together, we have to get to know each other, right?”
“That’s not a one-sided thing, it's your turn now. Spill,” Chuuya says, tilting his head up demandingly.
“About what?” Dazai questions, tilting his head to the side.
“Have you ever had a good Christmas before? Like back when you celebrated as a kid?” Chuuya asks, surprising Dazai as he hadn’t expected him to remember that small part of his story earlier that day.
Dazai’s eyebrows furrowed as he racked his brain for an answer, only relaxing the muscles in his face a minute after thinking, causing Chuuya to pull back in surprise.
“One,” He says, looking down into his hot cocoa. “I had an uncle, he rarely came to visit but when he did I was so excited. I looked up to him more than anyone..” He trailed off for a second, “He came for Christmas when I was young, maybe six or seven, I’m not sure. But it was before my father’s affair, and before the company had grown very much so my parents weren’t exactly as absent as they are now, though they were still barely there. We all spent Christmas together and my uncle was insistent we do every Christmas-y thing possible. We decorated the Christmas tree together, and my dad was there to hold me up so I could put the star on the top. My mom made cookies that we all decorated together and I think, at that time, it was one of the only times in my life I was truly happy.”
Chuuya frowns, his gaze meeting with Dazai’s cold, hollow eyes. He knows what Dazai’s going to say next and he doesn’t like it.
“He passed a year later,” Dazai says. “Got hit by a drunk driver.”
Chuuya passes Dazai his still full mug, noticing the cocoa in his is gone. “He must’ve been really great,” He says with a smile. It’s not like the smiles of the people at the funeral. The people who muttered apologies and “I’m so sorry for your loss” like they could’ve done anything about it. Chuuya’s smile is one of many layers, it doesn’t tell him he’s sorry, it tells him he knows Odasaku was a nice person and he regrets not being able to meet him.
“He was,” Dazai responds, returning the smile.
After a few minutes of peaceful silence (which was surprisingly enjoyable), Dazai clears his throat, gaining Chuuya’s attention.
“You mentioned your friends,” He remembers Chuuya saying he needs to save up money to buy gifts for them earlier at the party, and he would’ve been stupid not to notice the way Chuuya’s face lights up at the mere mention of them. “What’s so expensive you need to get a job you hate to get the money to pay for it?” Dazai asks.
Sure enough, Chuuya’s mood completely changes. His eyes lighten and he unclenches his jaw, jumping at the opportunity to talk about his friends.
“That’s the thing, I don’t know,” Chuuya says. “They all saved up money to buy me a bike last year and I want to get something just as good for each of them this year.”
“A bike? How old are you again?” Dazai teases with a grin.
“A motorcycle, dumbass. And 22!” Chuuya shouts, gaining the attention of a few people around them. “Speaking of, you’re not some old creep using Christmas as a way to get in my pants are you? I never asked how old you were.”
Dazai gasps dramatically, “I’m insulted...Chuuya thinks I’m an old man! How will I ever recover?”
“The way you still haven’t answered my question is concerning,” Chuuya says, raising an eyebrow.
Dazai frowns, “I’m also 22! Being the same age as someone so small is sad.”
“You haven’t denied the creep part,” Chuuya points out. “And I’m not small, you’re just a giant.”
Dazai narrows his eyes, looking at Chuuya as if he’s grown a second head.
Chuuya sighs, “Anyways…I’ve been looking for a gift for my friends that could be as good as what they got me but I can’t find anything.”
“Oh Chuuya, don’t you know the best gifts are from the heart?” Dazai says, shaking his head and obviously mocking Chuuya’s passion for the Christmas spirit.
“What would you know? You’re rich.”
Dazai doesn’t respond.
Chuuya exhales, slumping back in his chair, “Besides, do you think my friends would appreciate a heartfelt made card when they bought me a fucking motorcycle?”
Dazai shrugs, “Maybe? Would you?”
Chuuya glares at him, “No.”
With a sigh, Chuuya sits back up, meeting Dazai’s not-so-distant eyes (he had somehow inched closer to the table, and was now leaning forward so their faces were barely centimeters apart.)
Chuuya pulls back quickly, returning to his original position.
“Well, what do they like?” Dazai asks.
Chuuya bites the inside of his cheek, “‘Tross likes fast things. The reason they got me a bike is mostly because he caught me eyeing the one he bought a few years back. He likes going places and travels a lot. Piano Man–”
“ Piano Man?” Dazai says incredulously.
“A nickname he got back in high school. They all have them,” Chuuya explains. Dazai nods his head and signals for Chuuya to continue.
“Well, he likes playing the piano, obviously. He’s actually the reason I started playing. He’s a pretty fancy guy, likes the nicer things. He bought me my first bottle of wine,” Chuuya rubs his temple, “Now I can’t stand any of the cheap shit. Kinda sucks for someone broke.”
“Should’ve asked me to steal you a bottle from the party. We had plenty left over,” Dazai says.
“That feels illegal,” Chuuya says, ignoring Dazai’s questioning stare afterward. “Doc’s premed. Always been kind of interested in medical stuff–I mean, that's why we call him Doc. Lippmann’s an aspiring actor. He likes theatre and stuff like that. Then there’s Iceman, he’s kind of quiet but he always has a pack of cigarettes with him. Also a pretty big fan of those gory movies you normally watch around Halloween–except he watches them all year round.”
Dazai scratches his chin, looking deep in thought.
“Well,” he finally says, “Once you introduce me to them, I can help you figure out what to get them.”
Chuuya cocks an eyebrow, “Who said I would be introducing you to them?”
“ You?” Dazai tells him. “Do you not remember saying I’d be spending Christmas with your family and friends?”
“Oh,” Chuuya says, biting his lip. “Guess I did.”
“Well don’t take it back now, I’m looking forward to meeting them.”
Chuuya rolls his eyes, “I’ll introduce you guys, but you better not be weird.”
“Weird?” Dazai asks, like the concept is completely beneath him.
“You know,” Chuuya says, crossing his arms. “Don’t go on about that depressing ‘hating Christmas’ shit. They’re real Christmas freaks and would probably tear your arms off.”
Dazai pulls back, “Ah, so that’s where you got it from? Don’t tell me they’re dwarves too?”
“ Dwarves? I’ll kill you.”
—
Unfortunately for Dazai (and maybe Chuuya too), It’s not long before the cafe reaches its closing hours and they have to say their goodbyes. Dazai’s never been able to talk to someone for so long and so casually before. Usually, when he talked to people they shied away from him and got the conversation done as soon as possible. Although he did have a couple of friends, their conversations never went like that. It was interesting how he could have such a nice conversation (one that he wanted to have for years and didn’t even know) with someone he’d only met today.
He and Chuuya stop outside, both staring at the cars and the people passing by as the snow falls softly around them.
“Give me your phone,” Chuuya says, reaching his arm out.
Dazai gives him a questioning look but hands him the phone anyways.
“My number,” Chuuya hands the phone back. “I’ll text you when we can meet up. I’m probably going ice skating with my family in a couple of days so I’ll let you know if they’re alright with you coming. My dads love everyone so I’m sure they’ll be alright with it even if you are a stranger.”
Nodding, Dazai smiles. Chuuya’s parents love everyone, no wonder this is their son.
“See you then, hopefully,” Dazai says.
“Yeah, see you,” Chuuya smiles, turning to walk away, but Dazai grabs him by the arm.
“Let me call you a cab,” Dazai says, taking his phone out of his pocket once again.
Chuuya frowns, “I’ll just walk, it’s fine.”
“It’s freezing, Chuuya. Let me do this, it's a gift.”
“Fine,” Chuuya sighs.
A few minutes later he's waving goodbye to Chuuya as the cab whisks him away. He probably should’ve called himself a taxi, but the snow is beginning to die down and he’s slightly fond of walks on dark winter nights. The cold bites at his skin and his cheeks are red, which may also be due to the meeting with Chuuya, but he won’t acknowledge that right now.
The walk home goes quicker than he expects it to. The sound of cars driving on snow mixed with the music of the clubs and bars he walks by is almost peaceful.
When he opens the door to his house, he finds both of his parents are still not home. However, his siblings, along with the maid, are playing soft Christmas music while hanging ornaments on the tree.
He watches as Ryuu picks up a snow globe ornament (one that he recognizes as a souvenir from one of his dad’s business trips) and hangs it on one of the only branches he can reach. With the maid being the only one capable of reaching the first half of the tree, the bottom half is clearly more decorated. It almost makes Dazai laugh.
With a small red ornament in her hands, Gin turns around to find Dazai standing in the entryway.
She turns her head slightly, scrunching her eyebrows with a confused look, “‘Samu?” She asks, almost convinced she’s hallucinating his appearance.
At the sound of his name, both the maid and Ryuu turn around to see him standing there as well.
“When your mother told me you had gone out, I was honestly surprised,” The maid says with a smile.
“I know I’m lonely, Naomi! No need to rub it in,” Dazai says, removing his shoes and tossing himself on the couch.
“What were you doing?” Naomi asks. She’s always craving gossip, which Dazai tries his best to give her despite barely having a life outside of his work to take on the family company.
“Seeing a friend,” Dazai responds, not providing any more information. Naomi looks disappointed at this but doesn’t say anything more.
“‘Samu?” Gin says again. Dazai turns his head to look at her, and she’s holding an ornament Dazai made when he was her age. “Will you help us decorate the tree?” She asks, handing the ornament to Dazai.
Dazai pauses to think, and the image of Chuuya yelling at him for not having the Christmas spirit and decorating with his siblings eventually convinces him to help.
“Sure,” He says, taking the ornament from Gin and placing it in one of the places on the tree she and Ryuu can’t reach.
Ryuu hands him an ornament next, it's one of the glass ones his parents never let him hang on the tree when he was a child. He places it right next to the other ornament.
They, along with Naomi, continue decorating for a while, and eventually, get all the ornaments on the tree distributed evenly. When there are no more ornaments left, Ryuu, holding a star that he looks close to dropping, walks up to Dazai with pleading eyes.
“‘Samu, will you pick me up so I can put this on the tree?” He asks. Dazai smiles, remembering the time Odasaku held him up so he could do just that. Dazai nods, tugging Ryuu up by his hips so he can reach the top of the Christmas tree.
“Perfect, don’t you think?” Dazai asks them, and they both nod in response, still stunned by the fact Dazai was willing to participate in the decorating at all.
Finally, Dazai reaches towards the back of the tree, plugging in the lights. The entire tree illuminates and Ryuu and Gin look mesmerized, making Dazai immediately regret not doing this with them before.
He turns around to find Naomi looking at him with a grin, “You’re in an awfully good mood. Was that really a friend you were visiting earlier?” She asks.
Dazai smiles at her but doesn’t respond, instead turning toward his siblings.
“Who wants to make cookies?” He asks.