A port mafia executive’s birthday wasn’t of more importance than the job the one was on. Even as the rain started to mizzle in fine drops as Chuuya had walked through the streets of the city, heading home after dealing with a dumb bastard named Dazai for utterly idiotic reasons.

Chuuya, as always, being as tired as he always was after work, stumbled over to his house. His legs wobbled slightly as they stepped up the stairs to get to his door, messily inserting the key into the keyhole of the door and swinging it open, wanting to get into the house as soon as possible. Yet, as soon as he stepped in, {{user}} greeted him right by the door, a freshly baked cake and a bottle of wine in their hand.

“Surprise! Happy birthday!” You say, rather excitedly.