Chapter Text
Dazai wandered through the streets of Yokohama, hands buried deep in his coat pockets to ward off the chill. The festive lights and decorations lining the streets felt alien to him. Despite the joyous atmosphere, a weight settled in his chest. It was Christmas Eve, a time that meant little to him.
From a young age, Dazai had known darkness more intimately than most. Raised under the shadow of his father, the late and infamously insane boss of the Port Mafia, he had been groomed to follow in his footsteps. His brilliance in strategy and ruthlessness had earned him the nickname "Demon Prodigy," a title that filled others with fear. Even as he continued to rise within the Port Mafia, his reputation as the son of their late, crazed boss lingered, a ghost that haunted his every step.
Earlier that evening, he had wandered close to the Port Mafia's headquarters. The sight of Chuuya and the others, laughing and preparing for their Christmas party, had stirred something in him. It wasn’t that he wanted to join them, but the sight of their camaraderie, the sense of belonging, struck a chord he hadn’t expected.
He stopped just outside, listening to the voices that carried through the crisp night air.
“Everything’s ready for tomorrow, Chuuya-san,” a voice said, setting down a box of decorations. “The party should start at 8 PM sharp.”
“Good,” Chuuya replied, a smile on his face. “I want everything to be perfect. We’ve all been working hard, and we deserve a good celebration.”
Another voice chimed in, adjusting some ornaments on the tree. “I’ve got the drinks and snacks all set up in the main hall. It’s going to be a great night.”
A third person added, “And the music’s ready too. It’ll be nice to have a break from all the chaos.”
Dazai watched from the shadows, feeling a strange mixture of nostalgia and longing. He had never been one for parties, but the idea of sharing in their joy, even from a distance, was oddly appealing.
As he listened to their preparations, he made a decision. He would slip in quietly tomorrow, just to see the festivities up close. Maybe he could even find a moment to give Chuuya the small present he planned to buy. It wasn’t much, but he thought Chuuya might appreciate the gesture.
The next morning, Dazai wandered through the busy shopping district, searching for the perfect gift. He wandered into a small, quaint jewelry shop, his eyes scanning the displays. Something caught his eye—a delicate silver necklace with a small guitar pendant. It was simple, yet striking.
A thought crossed his mind, bringing a small smile to his lips. In another universe, perhaps, Chuuya could have been a guitarist, channeling his fiery energy into music. The necklace seemed fitting, a subtle nod to that whimsical idea.
He bought the necklace, carefully wrapping it before heading back to his apartment. He spent the rest of the day lost in thought, the anticipation of the evening gnawing at him. As night fell, he made his way back to the Port Mafia's headquarters, the gift tucked safely in his pocket.
When the time came, Dazai slipped inside the building unnoticed, his steps light and silent. The place was decorated with garlands, twinkling lights, and a large Christmas tree stood proudly in the corner. The laughter and chatter of the Port Mafia members filled the air, a stark contrast to the silence Dazai usually carried with him.
He stayed in the shadows, watching Chuuya and the others exchange gifts and share stories. For a moment, he allowed himself to imagine what it would be like to be part of this, to share in their joy.
But his presence didn’t go unnoticed for long.
“Dazai?” Chuuya’s voice cut through the din, sharp and filled with irritation. “What are you doing here?”
The room fell silent, all eyes turning to Dazai. The warmth in the room seemed to vanish, replaced by a palpable tension. The members exchanged uneasy glances, their fear evident. They weren’t just wary of Dazai because of his position—they were afraid because of who he was: the Demon Prodigy, the son of their former boss.
Dazai gave a lazy grin, trying to hide the unease bubbling inside him. “I thought I’d join the festivities. It’s not every day you see the Port Mafia in such high spirits.”
Chuuya’s eyes narrowed, a flush of anger coloring his cheeks. “You’ve got some nerve showing up here. We don’t want you here, Dazai. Leave.”
A member stepped forward hesitantly, his voice barely above a whisper. “Please, Dazai-san. We don’t want any trouble.”
Another added, her eyes wide with fear, “We just want to have a peaceful night. Please.”
The hostility in Chuuya’s voice and the fear in the others’ were unmistakable. Dazai’s grin faltered, but he quickly masked it with his usual cruel smile. He looked directly at Chuuya, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
“Aw, come on, Chuuya,” Dazai drawled. “Is that any way to treat your precious partner? Or should I say... your master?”
Chuuya’s face flushed with a mixture of anger and embarrassment. “You bastard... This isn’t the time for your games, Dazai. Just leave.”
Dazai chuckled softly, the sound hollow. “I got you this,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft as he reached into his pocket, pulling out the small wrapped present and extending it toward Chuuya. “I thought you might like it.”
Chuuya hesitated, a mix of surprise and confusion crossing his face. But then he shook his head, taking a step back. “I don’t need your pity gifts, Dazai. Just go.”
Dazai’s heart sank, but he nodded, placing the gift on a nearby table. “Merry Christmas, Chuuya,” he said quietly before turning on his heel and walking out without another word.
The cold night air bit at his skin as he wandered aimlessly through the city. Eventually, he found himself at the port, a place where he often sought solace. He sat down on a bench, pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. The first drag of smoke filled his lungs, momentarily numbing the ache in his heart.
He sat there for a long time, the cold seeping through his coat and chilling him to the bone. The port was quiet, the only sounds the distant hum of the city and the gentle lapping of water against the docks. He watched as the stars began to appear, their light distant and indifferent.
Dazai lost track of time, the cigarette long since finished and discarded. The loneliness felt sharper tonight, cutting deeper than usual. He leaned back on the bench, closing his eyes and letting the cold air numb him further.
After what felt like hours, he heard footsteps approaching. He didn’t open his eyes, expecting a random passerby. But then a familiar voice broke through the silence.
“Dazai-kun,” Mori Ougai called, his tone uncharacteristically gentle.
Dazai looked up, masking his surprise with a lazy grin. “Boss, what brings you out on a night like this?”
Mori smiled, though his eyes held a knowing look. “I could ask you the same thing. It’s Christmas Eve. Shouldn’t you be celebrating?”
Dazai shrugged, his grin faltering. “Never had much reason to celebrate.”
Mori’s gaze softened, and he placed a hand on Dazai’s shoulder. “I know you were at the Port Mafia’s party earlier. But you must understand, Dazai-kun, that exclusion doesn’t define your worth.”
Dazai glanced away, the weight of his past decisions pressing down on him. “It’s not that, Boss. It’s just... I thought I didn’t care, but seeing them together... it reminded me of what I’ve lost.”
Mori nodded, his grip on Dazai’s shoulder tightening slightly. “You’ve chosen a difficult path, Dazai-kun. But that doesn’t mean you are alone. You have made new connections, new bonds.”
Dazai sighed, the pain in his chest easing slightly under Mori’s reassurance. “I suppose you’re right. It’s just hard sometimes.”
Mori’s smile widened, a rare warmth in his eyes. “Why don’t we create a new tradition, then? Come, I know a place that serves excellent hot chocolate. We can celebrate in our own way.”
For the first time that evening, Dazai’s smile reached his eyes. “Lead the way, old man.”
Mori put a hand to his heart, feigning hurt. “You wound me, Dazai-kun! You’re so mean!”
Dazai laughed, the sound lightening the heavy atmosphere around them. “Just trying to keep you on your toes, Boss.”
As they walked together, Dazai felt the heavy weight in his heart lighten.
Maybe Christmas isn't so bad after all.