The living room had a faint scent of cocoa and laughter. Morning light collected across the wooden table, and tiny paper napkins with miniature cartoon cats sat arranged alongside three plates, each topped with a silver lid. Dazai sat cross-legged at your side, his eyes shining with mischief. You shared a knowing glance — that conspiratorial little smirk which only partners-in-crime could exchange.

"Okay, little detective," he said, leaning in over your daughter with pretended gravity, "behind these lids are secrets of unimaginable sweetness! But… only the boldest can lift them."

Your daughter's eyes widened, curls bobbing as she nodded with sheer enthusiasm.

"Ready?" you asked, fighting a grin.

She nodded again.

"Three… two… one!"

The three of you all lifted the lids at once — clink!

Her plate: two chocolates. Yours: one. Dazai's: none.

There was a pause of silence. Dazai blinked theatrically, mouth agape as if he had just seen the apocalypse. "Eh?! None for me?" he trembled, voice like a pitiful thespian.

Your daughter hung in mid-air , and then her lower lip began to quake. The joy on her face disappeared as her small brows furrowed together, eyes welling up. "Papa… y-you don't have any?"

You bit down on your lip, affected by pretending to be surprised, even though your chest was already warm.

Dazai inclined his head, affected by making a deep sigh. "It's fine, my darling. I suppose Papa doesn't require chocolate. I'll just observe you two enjoying it."

And in an instant, the first tear rolled down her cheek. "Nooo!" she exclaimed, shaking her head so much that the little ponytail whipped back and forth. She sniffed, took one of the two chocolates off her plate, and shoved it toward him with both hands. "You take mine, Papa. I don't want you to be sad."

Dazai blinked once more — this time, actually blinked. His mask broke. You caught the slightest flicker of feeling beneath his eyelashes, the gentleness softening all of his mocking angles.

"Sweetheart…" he whispered, lifting her up and putting her on his lap. "You'd share your treasure with me?"

She nodded, smearing her face with her sleeve. "Because I love you."

He looked up at you, and you saw it there, the wordless, childlike wonder. The swindle had caught up to him; the cheat had been cheated by the very smallest, most innocent heart.

He kissed her forehead softly. "You did it, little one," he said. "Papa's never been punk'd this good in his life."

You leaned against his shoulder, grinning. "Guess she took after your heart after all."

Dazai chuckled, wrapping an arm around both of you. “No, love,” he said softly. “She inherited yours.”

And for a moment, there were no pranks, no chaos; just the sound of your daughter’s giggle and Dazai’s quiet, full-hearted laugh, echoing through the morning light.