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November 11th was a date that had almost been erased from Fyodor's memory, just another day slipping by without meaning. He never marked it on a calendar. The idea of celebrating the day he was born had long lost its worth. Once he realized that, he stopped preparing anything, stopped telling anyone. To him, birthdays were nothing more than reminders that time kept moving forward while a man who couldn't die would never draw any closer to the end he desired, at least not until every sin in the world disappeared.
But that morning, the usual silence of his workspace shattered under a noise so chaotic even God might've refused to listen.
The man who was supposed to be his enemy ut had somehow become something far more complicated than 'lover', appeared with a cheerful skip, carrying a box of cake and a bouquet of blazing red roses.
"Happy birthday, Fedya~," Dazai said, grinning far too brightly to be trusted. Behind him, Nikolai spun around wearing a party hat and blowing a cheap plastic horn, while Sigma stood resigned, holding paper plates and a crookedly burning candle. Their usually cold, lifeless meeting room was now filled with the scent of sugar that didn't belong in a place like this.
Fyodor stared at the scene, then reached out to touch the stem of the rose Dazai handed him. Its petals were soft, its red too vivid as if mocking the pale tone of his own skin. He lifted the bouquet slowly, eyes tracing each stem, counting without meaning to.
One, two, three, four...
A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips when he reached the last one. Twelve. An even number—one that even a Russian child knew was meant for funerals.
He looked up at Dazai, who was now busy cutting the cake. In the corner, Nikolai was blowing his toy horn again, tossing paper confetti that seemed to appear out of thin air. The colorful scraps fluttered through the air, some landing in Fyodor's black hair. What should've been a sacred occasion, if birthdays still held that meaning had turned into a small, absurd circus.
Beside him, Sigma sat stiffly, hands folded neatly on his lap as Dazai waved a forkful of cake toward his face.
"Come on, open up, Sigma-kun~! It's for Fedya!" Dazai sang in that annoyingly playful tone.
Sigma stared at him like he was weighing whether eating the cake or swallowing poison would be the better option, then gave in and took a bite with a dark expression.
"Dazai-kun," Fyodor murmured, his voice nearly drowned by Nikolai's laughter. "You know, in Russia, even numbers of flowers are given to the dead."
Dazai turned to him, eyes gleaming, pretending to be shocked but clearly delighted.
"Oh? Really? Then I must've just offered you my sincerest blessing." He placed a slice of cake in front of Fyodor. "Maybe it's my way of saying I want to die with you."
"This isn't the first time you've invited me to a double suicide."
"Fufu~ you may not be a beautiful woman, but isn't it romantic enough to die with someone like you?"
"You think I'd agree to die with you?"
"100% yes and 1000% because I'll make you."
"10,000% I'll make sure you die a miserable, lonely death without me."
Dazai pouted for half a second before turning to Sigma, who looked nauseated, and Nikolai, who was now chatting animatedly with him.
"Sigma-kun... Fedya's being so cruel to me. He's leaving me all alone."
"Please don't drag me into your tragic love story, Dazai-san."
"Sigmaaaaa~~~"
Fyodor sighed quietly, watching the madness unfold around him.
"You'll have to kill me first if you really want that double suicide of yours."
"Anything to please you, my dear Fedya. I'll kill you gladly, consider it my way of loving you."
Dazai laughed, light and mischievous, as if their words weren't the kind exchanged between two people far too intimate with death. Around them, the candles melted slowly, releasing a faintly sweet scent that pressed against the air.
Was this what they called love? Dazai said it all the time, even when they should've hated each other. Fyodor no longer knew what he believed. Love was supposed to be something noble or at least, something that made sense. But how could he call this anything but absurdity, when the man standing before him laced every confession with the shadow of death, as if death itself were the purest form of affection?
Dazai's smile softened, a hint of mischief still lingering at the edge. His hand rose, fingers brushing against Fyodor's cheek with a touch so light it felt like a dream. Then his lips met Fyodor's gentle, deceitfully tender.
Fyodor froze for a moment. The world seemed to shrink until all that remained was the warmth of Dazai's breath between them. For a fraction of a second, he understood why so many had fallen for this man, why anyone could. Dazai touched without demanding, and somehow made you want to drown willingly.
When Dazai pulled back slightly, he didn't stop there. He leaned in again, his lips brushing Fyodor's temple, then his eyelid. The kiss was soft, stripped of passion yet still enough to make Fyodor hold his breath.
Fyodor opened his eyes slowly, meeting Dazai's gaze from a distance too close to be safe. In the dim, tender glow of the lamps, his violet irises reflected Dazai's warm brown ones.
It was Nikolai who broke the silence first, his voice loud and bright, like a circus bell shattering the quiet.
"Oho~ I didn't think this would turn out this romantic!"
Sigma just pressed a hand to his temple. "I'm pretty sure this wasn't part of the birthday plan."