Work Text:
Dazai had never been a fan of birthdays. Every year on June nineteenth, he would hide away and avoid everyone until the next day. Not out of fear, anger, guilt, or anything else like that. Simply because he felt like the day he was born wasn’t a day to celebrate. And anyone he told looked at him like he’d just said something much more horrific than not wanting to celebrate his birthday. So every year, he’d avoid everyone on his birthday, and then dread when the day was to come next year.
But this year was different.
He didn’t hide.
Dazai went to work with a smile on his face. And a genuine smile at that.
As soon as he walked in the door, everyone at the Armed Detective Agency turned to stare at him. All of them, even the newer members like Atsushi and Kyouka knew that June nineteenth was the one day that Dazai skipped without fail, every single year.
When he walked in, there were no streamers, no balloons, no piles of presents and a huge cake.
But the normalcy of the agency made Dazai feel even better.
Kunikida didn’t yell at him. Instead he simply told him not to sleep in as not to be late again. Then later he walked up and told him that he was glad Dazai was getting enough sleep.
Atsushi regretfully asked if Dazai had any paperwork he didn’t want to do.
Kyouka handed him a small paper bunny, which he later diaplayed on his mess of a desk.
Ranpo threw him a single lollipop, then spent the rest of the day joking with Dazai about pranking Kunikida for the rest of the day.
Kenji gave him a small blue flower, Dazai’s favorite color, which was pressed and dried and placed next to Kyouka’s handmade bunny.
Yosano emerged from her office halfway through the day and handed Dazai a small box full of bandages. He asked her why, and she simply told him that she’d had too many and decided to donate to the poor. Dazai thanked her and set the box aside.
Tanizaki and Naomi both approached him near the middle of the day, and shyly gave him a carefully wrapped box that Dazai opened with precision so as not to rip the paper. Inside sat a few cans of crab. Dazai gratefully accepted the box and decided he’d have one of the cans for dinner.
Then for the rest of day, Dazai lazed around on the couch chattering with Ranpo while Atsushi handled his paperwork. The oddest thing was that Kunikida didn’t yell at him once. Even when he knocked over a stack of papers and played music on his headphones at full volume. Then again, it is his birthday and on one’s birthday, it is required that everyone is nice to them.
And as Dazai was heading out, Fukuzawa came out of his office and placed a hand on Dazai’s shoulder, startling him. He jumped and turned around to face his boss, a little worried about what he had to say. But all he said was “Happy birthday, Dazai-san. I do hope you look forward to the years to come.” Then he patted Dazai’s shoulder once more and walked away.
Dazai couldn’t help but smile as his boss walked away.
When he had woken up that morning and made the decision to go to work, he hadn’t expected everyone to be so laid back. Sure, he’d received presents, and everyone had been a bit more lenient with him than usual, but overall, Dazai had an amazing birthday.
So he made his way back to his flat and collapsed. It had been a perfect birthday, but he was exhausted. Not because of his friends or all the nice things they had to say as they were giving him presents, just because he was tired. He rarely exerted himself socially that much, and when he did, he ended up laying in his bed for the rest of the evening.
But as soon as he stepped into his living room, he was greeted with a face he had not been expecting to see.
“Well mackerel, made it another year, huh?” the man on his couch tipped his hat, smirking in Dazai’s direction.
Dazai immediately grinned and flopped onto the sofa next to Chuuya.
“I did, yes,” he drawled, trying not to sound disappointed. He had long given up on attempting suicide every other day.
“So I suppose you went to work today. Was there any specific reason, or did you just feel like it?” Chuuya questioned, sending a suspicious look at Dazai.
“Hm, I suppose I just decided I shouldn’t hide on my birthday anymore,” Dazai replied, crossing his legs over the arm of the couch.
Chuuya sighed, “Why’d you always ignore me too? You know I wouldn’t do anything big. ‘Specially for people like you…” he muttered.
“I mean, I just didn't see a point in celebrating the day I was cursed with life.”
“And you do now? What have you done with Dazai, you bastard?” Chuuya snarked, removing his hat and placing it on the table in front of the couch.
“Perhaps I’ve been possessed, or maybe I just found people that made me feel like life isn’t all that bad…” Dazai smiled softly, a little ashamed that he was admitting how much he cared for the agency.
Chuuya scoffed at that, “Shitty mackerel.”
“Aww, is Chuuya mad that I didn’t invite him to the party?”
“What party? You hate parties?”
“I’m joking.”
“Well fuck you too.” Chuuya turned away and crossed his arms.
Dazai knew he was mad that Dazai never let Chuuya celebrate with him. It had been obvious ever since Dazai was eighteen. That was the only other time he’d celebrated. And he’d celebrated with drinks at Lupin Bar alongside Odasaku and Ango. Chuuya was not happy when he found out. And clearly, he’d never gotten over it.
“Anyways~is there a reason you’re here or did you just feel like breaking into my flat?” Dazai rolled over, kicking his legs back and forth. He placed his hands under his chin and looked up at Chuuya with puppy-eyes.
Chuuya looked down at him, unimpressed. Then he sighed and reached down next to the couch.
“You got me whiskey?!” Dazai exclaimed, sitting up almost instantly, a huge grin on his face.
Chuuya nodded smugly, probably content that he’d managed to surprise Dazai. “You want a hit?”
He didn’t have to ask twice.
The bottle was emptied by the end of the night. Chuuya, a lightweight, was draped over the couch, his undershirt unbuttoned because he’d begun to overheat. He hadn’t even drunk that much and he was pretty close to blacking out.
Whereas Dazai on the other hand, held his alcohol very, very well. He sat and laughed as Chuuya groaned on and on about Mori and his recent missions and how annoying Kaji had been and he even went as far as to shit talk Dazai to his face.
To all of Dazai’s friends, his birthday had felt like just another day they had to put up with Dazai’s antics, as well as a day to appreciate all he’d done for them.
But to Dazai, it was like a dream he never wanted to wake up from. He loved every second of it, and he never wanted the day to end.
It did, as all days do, but in Dazai’s head, all the kindness and consideration he’d been given on his birthday were just another reminder of why he should keep living. One more reason to throw his book on suicide in the trash and never look back.
And it was the next morning, after he’d woken up still sprawled out next to Chuuya on his couch, with a slight headache, and a new fondness for a life he never thought he’d enjoy, that he decided he liked his birthday.