Chapter Text
“When I go, I wish I go just as beautifully,” Dazai murmured, eyes fixed on the bursting fireworks above, painting the sky in glittering reds and golds. Then—*WHAM*—a punch landed square in his gut.
"OW! OW! My doggie is so violent!" Dazai whined dramatically, collapsing like he'd been shot, clutching his stomach like it was a mortal wound.
Next to him, Chuuya rolled his eyes so hard they might’ve fallen out. "Shut up, you piece of shit. Stop depressing the mood with your entire existence." Dazai pouted, lower lip wobbling. "You're so rude, chibi! Bad dog! No treats for you."
Chuuya raised a hand threateningly. "I’m not rude. I’m honest. And I am NOT your dog, dammit!" God, only Dazai could ruin New Year’s Eve with existential dread *and* canine insults in the same breath.
Dazai grinned like he lived off pain. "Aww, is my little doggie worried about being alone after I die?" Chuuya froze, breath caught in his throat. Anger sparked in his chest. "As if! You can jump off a damn cliff for all I care."
Dazai's grin widened—uh-oh."Yeah? Well then... if you're so sure—"
He stood up, climbed onto the fence they were sitting on, and casually jumped.
"DAZAI!"
—
"DAZAI!"
He jolted awake, limbs flailing, tangled in his blanket like a moth in a spiderweb.
He winced. Ugh. What a garbage dream.
Groggy and disgruntled, he rubbed his eyes, blinking blearily at the shape looming over him.
Yuu, arms crossed. Judging.
Dazai sighed. "What?"
Look, he loved the kids. He really did. But being woken up at 6 a.m. by tiny gremlins with too much energy? Torture. Actual torture.
"Wake up, wake up! It’s already six!! You have to come to our class today!" Sakura bounced next to him like a caffeinated rabbit.
Dazai groaned. "Okay, okay, I’m up. But if I pass out in class mid-standing, it’s not on me."
"Don’t! That would be so embarrassing!" Yuu muttered, already regretting every life decision that led to his guardian being this moronic person.
Dazai smirked. Embarrassing the kids was one of life’s greatest joys—right up there with napping and skipping paperwork.
"We’ll see\~" he sang-songed. "Now go get ready. Are the others up yet?"
"Everyone’s awake except you," Yuu muttered, rolling his eyes with the seasoned irritation of a child who has aged 40 years from dealing with this man.
Dazai dragged himself out of bed and shuffled to the bathroom, brain still swimming in the remnants of that dream.
Observation Day.
Back when he was a kid, his own father never gave a damn. Odasaku, though—he came. Not every time, but enough. Dazai would puff up like a peacock, answering every question in class just to get a smile from him. Odasaku would roll his eyes but ruffle his hair later anyway.
God. He missed that idiot.
He sighed, brushing his teeth, letting muscle memory take over. Usually, Dazai didn’t care much about how he looked (he was naturally radiant—tragedy looked good on him), but today he wanted to make an impression. Why?
Because few things in this world were more fun than watching his kids squirm in secondhand embarrassment.
He threw on his long tan coat, bolo tie, and a crisp new blue shirt. A little extra cologne, a little extra flair. He winked at his reflection.
“Still got it,” he muttered—tragic and handsome—deadly combo.
He wandered downstairs into the disaster zone they called a living room. Toys under the couch, crayons embedded in the carpet like ancient relics. Whoever cleaned yesterday? Fired. (He’d check the chore chart later and bring the wrath of dish duty.)
He entered the kitchenette and cracked a few eggs, humming. A commotion exploded behind him.
Kosuke and Shinji walked in, yawning and taking their seats like the calm before the storm.
Storm: Activated.
Katsumi stormed in, red-faced and furious. "GIVE IT BACK, SAKURA!"
"But I need them today for art class!" Sakura squealed, darting behind Dazai.
"You RUINED mine last time! Mixed black into everything! My blue became dark brown, it looked like shit!"
"Language," Dazai said, brow raised, as if he wasn’t seconds away from throwing himself out the window.
He turned to Sakura. "Where are your own paints?"
She pouted. "They’re ruined..."
"How?"
"She mixed them all with black AGAIN," Katsumi exploded. "And now she’s targeting MINE."
"No yelling," Dazai sighed, clutching the egg carton like a stress ball.
"Sakura," he said sternly, "You can’t take things that don’t belong to you. Katsumi’s paints are his."
She wilted.
Then he turned to Katsumi. "And you—try not to shout like a banshee. It’s too early for my ears to bleed."
Shinji didn’t look up from his book. "She can use mine. I don’t need them today."
Dazai blinked. Honestly, he didn’t have favorites, but Shinji had strong Odasaku energy sometimes, and that softened dazai's heart more than he could admit.
Sakura squealed. "Thank you!!" She shoved Katsumi’s paints back in his arms and zipped upstairs.
"You’re welcome," Shinji muttered, still reading.
Dazai finished cooking and served up breakfast. Everyone sat down, beginning the morning ritual of 'eating while roasting Dazai.'
Kosuke slurped his miso soup. "So Dazai’s coming to class today, huh?"
"Yup!!" Sakura beamed.
Kosuke smirked. "Good luck. When he came to mine, he flirted with the teacher."
"WHAT?!" Yuu nearly choked.
He turned, horrified. "Do not flirt with anyone! That would be the most embarrassing thing on the planet!"
Dazai gasped. "Excuse me, I was just being nice! I can’t help it if I’m devastatingly charming and the teachers fall for me."
He flipped his hair dramatically.
Sakura and Shinji giggled. Katsumi looked like he was reevaluating his life. Kosuke just snorted.
"We’ve got Japanese, Math, Science, and Art today!" Sakura chirped.
"Ugh," Yuu groaned. "I can *speak* Japanese, why do I have to write it too?"
"How are you gonna read food labels then? Accidentally drink vinegar?"
"I can read! It’s just annoying!"
"Mhm~ Keep telling yourself that," Dazai said, biting into his toast.
His phone buzzed. Kunikida.
"Be on time today."
Dazai smirked and replied:
"Not coming in. It’s the kids’ Observation Day :(((((( Would be child neglect otherwise."
Cue Kunikida exploding via texts. Paragraphs of righteous fury.
Dazai responded with a string of thumbs-up emojis and "you’re a good uncle" stickers. Eventually, Kunikida relented, but only on the condition that Dazai finish his mountain of case paperwork tomorrow. Or else.
Pocketing his phone, Dazai looked around at the kids finishing up.
Five kids, one man, one house.
Yeah.
Today was going to be a very long day.