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"Let's say I understand the idea behind this," Isaac says through gritted teeth, doing everything in his power not to throw a fit and make things worse, "DOES IT HAVE TO BE ON MY BIRTHDAY?"
Aaand so much for his attempts. It's rare of him to raise his voice, and Dazai emphases on that fact with an exaggerated scene of covering his ear. Maybe he isn't feigning being in pain. He is, surely, close enough to the screaming Isaac to get his eardrum busted. Even though being so close to him is something he did to himself.
"Not my fault that you have your birthday on Christmas day, Apple-kun. Rules are rules and we all agreed by them."
Now you decided to follow rules, Isaac thinks, still not having gulped down the fact that he's now practically tied to the clown in the room. They're stuck together in an oversized sweater which is by the way very ugly, even by his own standards. Not that he dresses up ugly or anything like that! It's just that he doesn’t mind wearing clothes that are regarded as being something that grandpas wear. At least that's what Arthur says all the time, finding more and more excuses to load his wardrobe with some of his own clothes that fit him. Speaking of Arthur, Isaac's sole reason to still be having some of his mind not lost to the absurdity of all that's happening on this Christmas-birthday party, is that Arthur is not doing any better than him. Is he a bad person for being happy about that? Probably yes. But he's currently atoning for it via this punishment, so he might as well indulge secretly in it.
The sweater in question is mimicking what those cut-outs for pictures do, by having a caricatured version of Santa and an elf in the front, Isaac and Dazai's heads respectively in the right place to complete the (cursed) picture.
Arthur and Theo are sharing a similarly ugly sweater, called the getalong Christmas sweater (much like the one currently worn by the duo Isaac + Dazai) or something like that. The design is simple yet screaming in the worst of ways; it reads "ON THE NAUGHY LIST" in comic sans, in a fashion that resembles what happens when you move a picture on Microsoft word. It's simply off-center, with a stamp of a Christmas tree barely fitting in the front of the shirt. It all might be a result of a mistake in the printing, or maybe there IS someone so vile out there designing those things on purpose.
Theo and Arthur laugh in sync at the sight of the next suffering victims of the friend group's new tradition, then stop, realize that they've been accidentally sharing an emotion for a mere second, and frown. Arthur's frown is smaller, though. He almost seemed too eager to get in the sweater with Theo earlier, though Isaac might have been imagining things. He's not so sure anymore. They've all already drank a lot.
As if by some strange miracle, neither the slutty writer nor the dumb writer are his center of annoyance tonight.
He's always regarded Mozart as someone who shares the same fate as him, having to deal with the rest of their friend group and their dumbassary.
Yet, why is he not sharing a sweater with anyone? He's never been an example of friendliness! It's so unfair. He feels betrayed.
Of course, the answer is very simple. With the amount of alcohol passed around, it was only a matter of time before someone got Mozart to drink, and the man has a nonexistent tolerance for the stuff. Instead of passing out or something like a normal person, of course he has to become a whole another person when drunk. Isaac feels bad for the possible blackmailing that can follow, with phones already drawn out and cameras capturing the rare event. On the other hand…what are they exactly going to blackmail him with? Being a good person for a change? Ooooh how very embarrassing. On a second thought, Isaac doesn't feel too bad with his cold feelings towards the musician. He might not be sharing an ugly sweater with anyone but he won't even remember it the next morning anyway!
Said musician is busy laughing and patting people on the back, enjoying everyone's company and pouring them more drinks. Which is very welcomed for the punished ones, because surely they can't coordinate themselves good enough to get the job done when even opening the bottle proves to be a difficult task when having one hand each.
"Leonardo, it seems like this idea of keeping anyone on good terms is working well. Let us have a toast about that." Comte raises his glass to his boyfriend, leaning slightly on him because of how tipsy he managed to get. Leonardo, who has crazy high tolerance on the other hand, has to remind him that he just raised a toast to him a second ago.
"Another one? Damn, ok, if you insist. You can thank me again for coming up with the getalong sweater idea."
"Excuse you?" Comte focus his gaze on the man, every trace of his previous bliss erased from his face. "It was clearly my idea, Leonardo."
"I remember that you gave me a kiss for it. I can still feel it." Leonardo smirks, confident in his version of the recent events, emphasizing on it by making kissy lips at Comte.
Comte keeps a cold gaze. He simply splashes the rest of his champagne on Leonardo.
"Hey! Now I need to change."
After some reminiscing about how tranquil his past birthdays used to be, before meeting all of those people, Isaac snaps out of his trance as he sees the hosts of the party, Leonardo and Comte, re-entering the room together, sporting an getalong sweater. Their design is even more eye-catching than the rest, mostly because it's so damn unintentional that it's hilarious. It's actually a good model, a cute pair of reindeers on the front with nothing off about their looks. But the text above seems to have suffered an awfully unfortunate lack of supervision, as evident by the typo, or typos made in it. It reads, "I'm he's," on Leonardo's tits, with an arrow to Comte, and then "He'm I's" on Comte's pecs, with an arrow to Leonardo. Isaac stops looking at their chests for the time being.
He didn't even realize they had a fight, mainly because of their already strong old-gay-couple energy and the fact that it was normal for them to have some quarrels from time to time and call them off pretty quickly. Interesting how they ended up sharing the same fate as the rest of the room.
Mozart is, once again, untouched in terms of punishment.
It's amazing that Isaac can glare at him, ignoring everything surrounding him, including Sebastian's poor attempt of putting himself on the naughty list by """accidentally""" knocking off someone's glass off the table. He proceeds excitingly repeating, "I'm a naughty little butler! I'm a naughty little butler!" followed by asking to be punished to be put in a sweater with someone else from the room. It seems like everyone could do, and poor Vincent is too much of an angel not to sacrifice himself. He lies that it was his glass that was knocked off, and in the next moment they're together in an abomination of a wool clothing. Vincent is unironically enjoying the sweater, which is depicting Edvard Munch's Scream, but with a Christmas hat on the screaming one's head. If the execution wasn't so bad, it would actually pass as an unique design.
"Ohh, it seems like it's time for the birthday boy to blow off the candles!"
Arthur's exclamation MIGHT have been just so Napoleon can stop drunk-singing already. Sorry, he's not drunk. That's what he insist, at least, but his little concert says otherwise. It's not a Christmas party without ABBA and other classics, that much everyone agrees upon, but Waterloo followed by Last Christmas I Gave you my hearttt but the very next daaay YOU GAVE IT AWAAAAY seems to be telling a story somewhere between the lines. It's a good time he was stopped before he can find an even sadder song to vent his feelings through.
It's impressive how Theo and Arthur are able to introduce the big cake into the room with one hand each, but their surprising sync is a story for another party. In an award event of Arthur trying to find his lighter in the pocket of his pants and Theo shouting something at him in the process where he touched in the wrong place, soon all the candles are lit and they all sing the so very familiar happy birthday tune.
Isaac smiles a genuine smile and thinks of a wish. For the most of the evening, he wished Dazai would just pass out or something, so he doesn't have to deal with him anymore. Now he makes a more proper wish, and blows all the candles. Everyone starts clapping, and for a second, it turns wholesome. In the next second, Isaac feels a hand on the back of his head, shoving him down. He should've seen this happening.
*BANG*
Surely now, Isaac's face meeting the cake shouldn't make such a scary hitting sound.
That's when he remembers that he's conjoined with Dazai. Having his head pushed down would mean that Dazai was pushed down, too, meeting with the… table.
Arthur realizes that even before him, but his reaction is not the same as Isaac's. His eyes widen but then,
"Three times for good luck!"
BANG
BANG
Dazai doesn't stand back upwards this time. He might be dead, or at least has passed out.
Holy shit, I think my wish just came true, Isaac doesn't say out loud, features frozen in shock.
"Pft. Ahahaha! AHAHAHAHAHHAH"
The hearty laugher doesn't belong to Isaac, or Arthur, or anyone else in the room who hates the purple-haired freak, much to everyone's surprise. It's Mozart's. He seems to be very entertained from the show taking place in front of him, alcohol dulling his sense of what's morally right to laugh at, or maybe assuming that Dazai is playing dead. It wouldn't be the first time, after all.
This is Isaac's chance!
"Hey!" He points towards Mozart where noone dared say anything, "That's not very friendly of you!"
"Yeah."
"He has a point."
Isaac feels truly triumphal now. His birthday certainly started well, with justice coming to light, and with Dazai passed out.
Napoleon sobs from the side, moved from the scene. "I knew you'd call out evil when it happens, Isaac. That's why you're my good friend."
"Thank you, Napoleon."
"You deserve only nice things."
"Thanks, Napoleon."
"I hope noone breaks your heart EVER, Isaac."
"Uhh. Thanks?"
As his friend breaks down in real manly tears, Isaac scans over the room with a horrific realization: everyone else has a pair already. It's funny how they all ended up having to go through the getalong sweater punishment, even sweet Jean who is now in a sweater with Shakespeare. Their sweater is very, very bland, with a fuzzy string that is supposed to be a garland going from one sleeve to another, but looks more like a worm on a string attached to a random sweater. And the color is pretty ugly too. Thank god Jean's face is there to make things a little prettier. Oh, and Shakespere is there too, he guesses. But enough about these two. With all the possible candidates narrowed down to his dear friend Napoleon, Isaac feels karma weighing down on him.
Soon the crying Napoleon and the laughing Mozart are shoulder to shoulder, sporting an ugly getalong sweater. As noone predicted that many of them in use, the only one lying around is not even a christmas-themed one, brought on the pile by who-knows-who, and it has an among us illustration. Theo snaps a picture of the lovely disaster, just as he did with everyone that night, even if his camera roll is mostly taken by Vincent pics, because by his words, "he's the only one rocking it".
***
Much, much later in the night, Mozart starts feeling a familiar headache.
He hates himself for being tricked into drinking so much yet again. The person next to him who keeps wiping his tears in HIS sleeve is not helping with his overall state.
"Napoleon, that's enough. They don't deserve your tears and you know that."
Seeing that it had no effect, Mozart changes his strategy, wanting to give him a pat on the back along with what he says but then he remembers it's impossible because of the stupid sweater. How did they end up like this, anyway?
"Why don't you invite them here? Alexander loves drama, and Wellesley, well… I'm sure he'll find a way to have fun too."
Napoleon stops sobbing, letting out a weak laugh instead. "You know we can't. You remember what happened last time when we played uno."
That's true. The destructive aftermath of it was threatening the lives of many. They simply couldn't get along.
Mozart sighs, feeling his headache worsening.
"Look, let's at least throw that thing away." Having had his full of this sweater bullshit, he pulls it over his head until it hangs loosely on Napoleon. The latter gives no indication of wanting to part with it anytime soon, but that's alright, whatever makes him happy. Mozart stands up and finally gives him that encouraging pat on the back. "I'm going to get you water and some tissues, wait for me."
Well, at least he can be not an asshole. And he was going to go search for painkillers anyway.
Unsurprisingly, things don't work in his favor and he finds none in the kitchen, but in the process of searching for them he remembers the second cake. A second cake is another tradition of their friend group, seeing that many birthday parties result in somehow destroying the first one. He takes a plate and cuts a nice slice of it, bringing a small fork along.
In the corridor, he runs into the person he was searching for, for a chance.
"Hey Isaac."
The strawberry haired man stops on his tracks, visibly surprised. He holds a glass of water and what appears to be painkillers.
"Hangover too?"
"Ah, no, actually those are…for you. I figured, uh, that you might feel not so good after all that."
Mozart makes a surprised humming noise, thinking for a bit then sitting right there on the floor, leaning against the wall. It's unsanitary and pretty much against his principles, but he's going to take a long and thorough bath when he goes home anyway. And he's afraid there is no available sitting area left where there are no weirdos.
Isaac follows suit, leaning his back on the opposite wall, handing Mozart the glass and the pills. He receives the slice of cake in return.
Before popping the pill in his mouth, Mozart nods towards the cake. "It's for you."
Isaac is surprised, almost embarrassed even. He didn’t expect that, and guilt is still heavy on his chest. He knows it must have been due to the alcohol that he held a temporary grudge against Mozart, he knows that the musician knows none of it too. But even after bringing him painkillers, he feels bad.
"You know, Wolf… I might be the reason why you ended up having to wear a getalong sweater with Napoleon. I'm sorry."
"Hmm?" Mozart mutters, finished emptying the contents of the glass. "Oh, that's fine. I'm glad it was him and not someone more annoying. Thank you."
Oh.
"You're not mad?"
"No? Why would I be. At the end of the night you're still the only one with a brain around here. Oh and hey, Happy Birthday, Isaac."
Isaac smiles, busying himself with the cake before he can do something more embarrassing, seeing that he's already blushing.
"Thank you."
"I can only imagine how it was being stuck all night with Dazai. My apologizes."
Isaac gulps down his bite, eager to say something. He also just now realizes that the cake is apple-flavored, and he's pleasantly distracted by that. As a whole, he needs to admit, his birthday actually has started very well. Sitting here on the floor eating cake in the company of Mozart, on this… a little unhinged Christmas-birthday party organized by his friends, he is thankful.
"Oh, don't worry about him. He hit his head thrice and passed out. You were there, do you remember?"
"No, I don't. Woah. That's amazing. Please tell me more about it."