Bon Anniversaire, Chuuya

Today... was a shitty day.

It began in the morning, with his phone ringing at 4 o'clock in the morning. Groggy from sleep, he'd accepted the call, only to be blasted awake by Tachihara screeching for help followed by maniacal laughter from Kajii. He'd accidentally activated For the Tainted Sorrow, startled, only to have his bed break under the pressure and send him tumbling to the ground.

After rushing to the bar, which took him half an hour to search for since Tachihara was too busy evading Kajii's senseless experiments in blowing up stuff to explain where they were, he'd managed to calm the mad bomber down, send him and Tachihara back to their homes, pay off the barkeeper for the damages dealt from the lemon bombs, then return to his own home, where he'd spent about an hour or two trying to get some sleep, before being forced back awake by his alarm.

Cursing the alarm out and wearily preparing for the day's work, he'd trudged out to the nearest convenience store, planning to grab a croissant sandwich or something for breakfast. Unfortunately, he'd been too sleep-deprived to pay attention to his surroundings, and lost his favourite hat to the wind from a speeding bike. Yelling obscenities after the bike obviously didn't help matters, from the looks that the passersby gave him, but well, if it made him feel marginally better, why not?

The day got progressively worse from there on. After changing into a fresh set of clothes, he'd went in to Port Mafia Headquarters, only to walk straight back out with Tachihara on his heels, with Mori's orders to supervise a group of newly sworn-in Mafiaso whom were being tested on their Abilities in one of Port Mafia's warehouses that had been specifically redesigned to accommodate Ability users. He'd walked in, then immediately activated his ability when a knife went hurtling towards his face.

He'd accepted the apologies with good grace, adopting Kouyou-nee's demeanour to deal with the horrified rookie who'd almost pissed himself when Tachihara had introduced the executive. The rest of the morning went without a hitch, up until the nervous rookie, who'd turned out to be a metal manipulator, ended up accidentally sending a metal beam veering straight into another rookie, who'd activated their ability, age manipulation, in defense, turning the metal beam into rust and the metal manipulator into a pile of dust, with how much they'd aged. That had led to chaos breaking out, rookies turning on one another, terrified for their own lives, while Tachihara and Chuuya collectively lost their minds trying to calm them down.

Eventually, Tachihara managed to garner their attention by firing a series of gunshots into the air, shocking the rookies into silence while Chuuya mentally cursed every stupid deity that had decided to fuck his day up. They ended up separating the rookies in order to test them one by one, sending the others to stand in a corner far, far away from the testing site. There hadn't been much they could do about the unfortunate metal rookie, though. Just a small moment of silence held for them, then the dust was swept up by the janitor and dumped into the trashcan. Chuuya felt really terrible about that, but honestly, what else was there to do? Get them a casket? An urn? There wasn't any family they could give the news to, since they were picked up from the streets, so a moment of silence was honestly the best they could do for them.

After the rest of the testing, some of which had involved maiming, dismembering, and two more near death experiences, Chuuya was ready to call it a day. But nope. Mori had sent him another order, this time to clear out a smuggler's den which had been encroaching on Port Mafia territory for too long. It hadn't helped matters that he'd found out too late that some of the Port Mafia, the lower ranks, had been caught up in the mess, being captured and drugged to the point that he himself could barely recognize them, clued in by one of them as he'd burst into the room after killing two smugglers, eyes cloudy with haze that stared at him with faint recognition, calling out his name faintly. He'd called for backup immediately, asking Hirotsu-san to help out with evacuating their people while he laid waste to the smugglers who'd dared to raise a hand against the Port Mafia. That particular mission had left him emotionally and physically drained, haunted by the weak and drugged forms of his people.

Now, he was plodding through the rain to Headquarters, to report back to Mori. He'd almost pulled a Dazai and ignored the order, resisting the urge by sheer force of will. After being kindly dried off by the receptionist who possessed a warming ability, he freshened himself up, then went to see Mori, recounting the important details of his missions while the Boss listened, interjecting a few questions here and there. At the end of it, he almost cried when Mori instructed him to go to another destination, this time to some bar in downtown were he was supposed to receive some information about another mission or something along those lines. Mori hadn't been clear on the details, sending him off with a wry smile and permission to take the next day off.

Now, he stood tiredly in front of the bar, staring at the neon green sign with less enthusiasm than usual. On a normal day, he'd be glad, joyful even, to go to a bar and drink to his heart's content, but today, he just felt like going home. With a sigh, he pushed open the door, only to freeze in place as loud horns blared through the air, a bunch of jumbled together voices shouting "Happy Birthday!" at him as he tried to make sense of the scene before his eyes.

The bar was decked out in party decor, balloons and streamers everywhere while a banner with the words 'Happy Birthday Chuuya!' was hanging in the middle of it all. The top of the bar was covered in all kinds of his favourite foods, from cookie shot glasses to truffles on pieces of what looked like duck breast meat. There was even a cake with chocolate frosting, birthday wishes written in icing on it while the candles burned in their holders. And gathered around the bar, was Kouyou-nee, Hirotsu-san, Akutagawa, Gin, Tachihara, and the rest of his subordinates, all greeting him with faces filled with smiles, all directed towards him. Like they were happy to see him here, with them. His throat went uncomfortably dry.

Chuuya had no words. He just stood there, staring at the scene with rapidly watering eyes, heart too full of emotions to respond to Kouyou-nee's worried questions on whether he was okay. He was slightly ashamed to say that he started crying the next moment, overwhelmed by the happiness he felt, for having such a caring family, for they were his family, just like he was theirs; A family that cared for each other, that looked out for each other, that pitched together to do something nice for their own. He'd reassured them through the sobs, laughter interspersing the hitched breaths he took as he revelled in the joy that he felt.

Later, he walked back home with a pile of presents in his arms, using his ability to balance them with one hand while he answered a phone call with the other. It was a formidable stack, taller than him, and composed primarily of various types of wine, although there were a few rock music CDs in the pile, courtesy of Tachihara who'd known of his liking for the genre.

"Nakahara speaking, who's this?"

"My, my, mon petit mafia, don't tell me you've forgotten me so soon?"

Chuuya froze, then continued walking, scoffing at the question. "As if, you bandage-wasting-device." His eyes narrowed. "Why did you call me?"

A chuckle met his ears. "Why, can't I call my favourite hatrack to wish him happy birthday?" A vein popped in his forehead, suspicion immediately forming with the sing-song voice.

"As if you'd call for anything as simple as that. What do you really want, mackerel?" Chuuya frowned as he heard a clinking sound. It sounded like a glass clinking against another, but there wasn't any background noise in the form of muttered conversations, so where could he be... He stopped short, eyes widening in realization.

"Oi, bastard."

"Hm?"

"Are you in my house again?"

"Maaaybe."

"You piece of shit!" Chuuya ran down the street, the presents flying after him like a line of puppies trailing after their master. Reaching his door, he kicked it open, glaring at the bastard who sat leisurely on the couch twirling a glass of wine in his hands. The same bastard who clicked the phone in his hands shut, smiling winningly up at Chuuya while the red-head stalked over with a murderous look in his eyes.

"What do you think you're doing, you waste-of-bandages?" He glared down at Dazai, flicking a hand at his presents so that they set themselves gently down on the floor for him to sort through later.

"Why, I'm here so I can give you your gift, chibikko-kun!" Dazai proclaimed, ducking under Chuuya's punch, still annoyingly unperturbed. Setting the glass down on the coffee table, he caught the outstretched fist, his expression turning soft. "Chuuya," he said simply, making the red-head stop his half-hearted movements, falling forward as Dazai pulled him down for a chaste kiss.

They pulled slightly away from each other, still close enough to feel each other's warmth as Dazai reached underneath the coffee table to pull out a box. "Happy Birthday, Chuuya." With an encouraging nod from the ex-mafiaso, Chuuya opened it, only to let out a small gasp of surprise at the beautiful hat that lay within.

"I heard on the grapevine that you lost your hat today, so I bought you a new one, even though I'm sure you have plenty of spares," Dazai explained, unable to hold back the small jab. He smiled as Chuuya lifted the hat out with care, blue eyes shining with emotion as they took in the richness of the cloth, the silk ribbon that ran around the band, and the gold-plated ornament that hung from one side. His smile slipped a little when Chuuya looked back up at him, his face a mask. A flicker of doubt crossed his mind. "Do you not like it?"

Chuuya didn't answer at first, setting the box and the hat aside carefully. Then, he lunged at Dazai, pinning him down to the couch and burying his head in his shoulder. "I love it." His muffled voice came to Dazai's ears, bringing the smile back into a beacon of happiness. "Thank you, Dazai."

"You're welcome." Dazai answered as honestly as he could, feeling Chuuya relax as he ran long fingers up his back, massaging the tired muscles. With a sigh, he got up, hugging the mafiaso to him as he carried him to the bedroom. There would be no more activities tonight, not with Chuuya being tired out from his missions. Tomorrow, perhaps, they might be able to accomplish something more, but for tonight, they'd just focus on getting a good night's rest. He helped Chuuya change into his sleepwear, gently coaxing tired arms to relinquish their grip on him as he got himself changed as well, then laid down beside him on the bed, cuddling close.

The moonlight that shone through Chuuya's window fell on his hair, giving it a silvery sheen. Dazai watched fondly as Chuuya fell asleep almost immediately, small hands curled up to grip the front of Dazai's shirt. With a last kiss to the forehead, he hugged the smaller body to his, breathing in the smell of expensive wine and cologne that was uniquely Chuuya. He smiled.

"Bon anniversaire, Chuuya."