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Dazai hums softly as he finishes setting out some kitchenware on the counter. He’s going to need it these next few weeks. After all, he won’t be able to reach up very far for a while, so cabinets are a no go. So now everything he’ll need is at roughly waist height or lower, since he won’t be able to raise his arms very high for a while.
Why? Because after years of yearning and wanting, he’s finally getting top surgery! Time to finally say goodbye to the wretched things on his chest that people would call breasts if they saw them. Not that his were ever that large or noticeable to begin with, even without binding. It made being stealth much easier, but regardless of that he’s always hated them and he can’t wait for them to be gone.
One last glance around his agency assigned dorm and Dazai finally lets himself grin. His excitement finally welling up to be visible. Well, time to go! His surgery is scheduled in a few hours, so he really needs to make sure the others at the ADA won’t bother him for a few days at least. Maybe even a week if he’s lucky. Should he leave a note? Tell anyone? Hm. Oh well. Maybe he should at least text Kunikida so that his partner doesn’t have an aneurysm or break the door down to check on him.
There’s a new pep in his step as he leaves the building and hurries his way towards the agency. As he skips along he actually waves cheerfully to the people he recognizes. An elderly couple outside a restaurant that the agency frequents, the owners of a candy store he frequents to obtain payment for keeping Ranpo quiet. It hits him with a startling clarity that this is what he has been able to do and obtain for himself since leaving the Port Mafia.
A routine, people who know and appreciate him, and hell… now surgery for himself! He has the time. It’s incredible.
Dazai bursts into the office, a grin stretched across his face, “Helloooooo everybody! New day, new me tomorrow!”
Atsushi’s face screws up in confusion. Clearly he’s trying to think far into it. Ranpo on the other hand nods sagely, like he knows exactly what he means. Though, to be fair, he probably does.
“Dazai, you lazy waste of bandages, you’re late!” Kunikida starts scolding immediately.
“Ah, but I’m only twenty minutes late today! That’s better than my usual, yeah?” Dazai grins at him and waves off his yelling as he skips through the office. “In any case, I’m not here for long. Just stopped by to grab a few things and talk to the president!”
Behind him, he hears Atsushi ask a question to presumably Ranpo, “Will he be okay?”
“Yeah, he’ll be fine.”
Dazai nearly bolts from the office after a few minutes, passing everyone by with a hasty and loud “See you all later!” while ignoring Kunikida who starts up his yelling again.
Luckily the president was pretty understanding when he mentioned he was having a much needed medical procedure done and would be absent for a while. Even better, he wasn’t required to spill all the information about what he is having done.
The journey to his hospital of choice is not too long, being he decided on one relatively close to the dorms so he could get back there conveniently when he’s discharged, but not so close as to be immediately found by Kunikida should the man come looking for him. He doesn't even tire from the journey there, despite being admittedly not the most in shape person... Chuuya would laugh his ass off if he ever heard him admit that out loud.
Standing outside the entrance, he stares up at the building with a sense of awe. Now is the moment of truth, and time to put his trust into his surgeon to not fuck him up while he’s under. Dazai did a lot of digging on this doctor though, so he knows a lot more than what's publicly available about her. She seems completely trustworthy with a good track record with previous patients that seem to have stellar results.
Finally, he heads into the hospital.