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One would assume that a man so eager to die like Dazai Osamu would detest his birthday. But contrary to popular assumptions, Dazai actually liked celebrating his birthday.
It’s just that nobody knew his birthday. He lied to Mori that his birthday was on January 1st because he genuinely couldn’t remember the time he joined the mafia. Later when his brain fog subsided, he somehow found the date weirdly fixating and just decided that June 19th was the day God made a mistake.
That solved it, his birthday was on June 19th. It used to be a grim reminder of his birth. But as time progressed, he started to look at it in a different light. Indeed, he didn’t want to be reminded that he came this far without succeeding. But to honor the fact, he kept trying. Deep inside, he knew that he wasn’t so hollow. There were some days when he could see himself happy, dead or alive, it didn’t matter. Being dead was the easier choice. But sometimes, he didn’t quite like the choice.
To honor those days, Dazai reminded himself as he stepped inside a small bookstore. He planned to buy himself a novel for his fourteen birthday. Why he couldn’t have bought it days earlier when he first caught sight of it, he didn’t know. All he wanted to do was to try to do something for this day.
It felt odd. Walking numbly to the counter and paying for the book. Then walking out of the bookstore. He sat in a park, staring at the book in his hands. It didn’t feel intense, it felt odd. Odd in a way that made his heart lighten and his head slightly clear. Oddly, he felt comforted for the first time in his life. In a way that felt like he was celebrating the person behind all those masks. It felt like he honored himself.
This was nice. He could continue this for the next birthday.
Touching the person’s heart underneath all those masks became harder with each year. Sometimes, he contemplated skipping his birthday, months before it came. It wasn’t as if anyone knew about it. His apathetic attitude towards his ‘real’ birthday was odd enough.
But he kept trying and that was enough reason to do so. Because the only reason Dazai celebrated his birthday in the first place was to honor that very fact. He kept trying.
Now that he has been doing this for almost three years, he had a fair share of rituals for this day. There were many presents he had bought himself. Most of them got lost when he moved to his shipping container, some stayed like his books and video games. For his eighteenth birthday, he decided to go to the same bookstore he visited every year. The warm lighting and the smell of old time-worn books were nostalgic. Comic books were impersonal to him but a little novella was not.
So it was settled. He worked through his missions for the entire week so he could have this whole day to himself. He could have told Odasaku about this day. He knew that Odasaku cared but it seemed like a burden Dazai would only put on the older man. Plus, birthdays was the only time he let his mask slip and fall to the ground.
The morning he got up, it was raining. He ditched his usual work clothes and instead put on a comfy outfit, a light sage green hoodie, and beige pants. It took him a while to move out of the shipping container and choose a location. A crappy apartment near an unmarked zone. It was the next best thing that he allowed his doubting and guarded self to have.
Tucking his wallet and phone in his light cream-colored sling bag, he opened his creaky front door and prepared to face the day. The rusted iron stairs creaked with every step and he was pretty sure that he was the only person living here aside from the old landlady who had dementia. She got scared every time she saw him and needed to be reminded that he was indeed her only tenant.
He opened his umbrella and started heading out. The train ride there was somber. It was already midday and the previously heavy downpour was reduced to a chilly drizzle. Maybe he might die today, 18 years of experience is enough. He idly thought to himself as he walked through the busy street leisurely, welcoming many accidents on the way.
He bought an English novel. “Wuthering Heights…”, he quietly murmured as he flipped through the pages. A romance novel, how unlike him to buy a book from this genre. The owner wrapped it up in a small lavender bag along with a little candy pouch, it smelled floral and slightly sweet. When he looked at the old man with a surprised look on his face, he simply said:
“You’ve been a regular customer for four years and you haven’t missed a single visit on this day each year. I guessed that it was somethin’ special, like a birthday.” That explained why the bookstore was open even when his birthday fell on Sundays and holidays.
“It is, Oji-san. How observant of you.” Dazai didn’t realize that he was smiling until the short old man smiled back. The smile lines along with his wrinkles and the genial look on his face made something in Dazai serene.
“I might be old now but young man, I’ve always been sharp. Happy birthday.” Dazai bowed in return, his cheeks pricked a bit as he wasn’t used to smiling this long.
He walked out of the bookstore, the late evening sun warmed his body as he strolled through the streets. It made him lazy like a cat basking in the sun. The chatter of passersby and the bustle of the cars nearby served as good brown noise. It also made him realize that the day was ending and he was craving something warm.
He looked around to find an arcade tucked at the back of the street. It normally wouldn’t catch his attention for more than a few seconds. But the claw machine was on display and there was something that had his interest. It was a slightly large, soft-looking crab plushie. The color wasn’t too bright and it wasn’t oversized either.
‘I’m too old for stuffed animals…’ Doesn’t matter, he told himself as he dragged his feet away. He was going to miss the evening train if he kept this up, he reminded himself as he walked away a bit dejected. Nope, it was childish, immature, and almost laughable that the demon prodigy would be excited over something babyish like a crab plushie.
He took the night train instead. In his defense, the line was long and the claw machine took him an embarrassing 10 minutes to figure out that he needed store credit to even play it. He could just rob the entire place but somehow he spent the rest of the evening playing arcade games to earn the estimated amount of credit he would require.
But riding the night train along with the soft plush was worth it. In his defense, he found crustaceans to be very amiable creatures. They were tasty, slightly funny-looking, and interesting to read about.
As he rested his head on the large plush and played on his switch, he realized that today might have been his best birthday. Maybe it wasn’t such a bad decision to be a spontaneous spender after all. Plus, the sight of the cashiers struggling to pack the oversized plush was amusing after all. They didn’t expect anyone to win such a heavy prize with their slightly crappy claw machine.
Maybe it was worth it, he thought to himself as he pulled the duvet over his head. Not minding the fact that he had three missed calls from Chuuya. He would talk to the slug tomorrow or next week.