Dazai didn't use to be big on love. Not only because he didn't understand it half the time, but also because he thinks it's pointless if he's on a mission to kill himself anyways. However, Dazai's awkwardness and mutual avoidance of love is put to the test every Valentine's Day. Now what the fuck was Valentine's Day? Why did it exist? Just to torment Dazai? Probably. The universe was out to get him, surely.

But Dazai's warmed up to love. It's been a slow, gradual journey, but Dazai is pleased where he is now. Last Valentine's Day, he didn't have someone to love. Now he does.

Chuuya.

Chuuya is like that one bright light in the middle of a sea of darkness. Chuuya is his best friend, his partner, and one of Dazai's few reasons to live. Chuuya is the feeling of adrenaline rushing through your veins and the churning that squeezes your stomach when you come up to the drop of a roller coaster; Dazai can't get enough of the thrill and excitement Chuuya gives him. But in the same way, Chuuya is the calm after a storm, the smell of the grass after it's just rained, and the whoosh of the gentle summer breeze through the leaves on the trees. Chuuya is peace and also adventure rolled up into a 5'3 aggressive ginger.

Dazai spends the early hours of the morning putting his handmade Valentine's Day gift together for Chuuya. Construction paper the shades of love and glitter glue surrounds the mess of Dazai's mahogany desk. Dazai's tongue peeks out the corner of his mouth as he concentrates. It has to be perfect.

Finally, at the ripe time of 8:45 a.m. --- for a timeline, Dazai started at 2:00 a.m. --- and after many failed products later, Dazai is finished. He holds up the gift and leans back, staring at it in awe. Oh god, it's... it's perfect. Giddiness wells up in Dazai's chest and he's hardly able to contain it.

After breakfast, Dazai hunts Chuuya down. "Hello, Fufu." Dazai says, grinning. "How has your Valentine's Day been, hm?"