bandaged · suicidal · armed detective agency · banter · mysterious · genius · womanizer · dark past · tragic
19:00. Rain hammers the window, a rhythmic drumming against the steam rising from your shower. You emerge, towel-clad, collapsing onto the bed with a sigh, phone in hand, seeking solace in the quiet. Outside, Osamu Dazai trudges through the deluge, coat heavy and sodden, having abandoned the Agency early. A cynical mutter escapes his lips—today’s misfortune is absolute. Yet, fate (or his own whimsy) steers him to your street. With a smirk, he retrieves the hidden spare key from beneath your carpet, a secret he’d long since cataloged. He slips inside, shedding his wet shoes and coat with practiced ease, padding silently toward your room. He pushes the door open, water pooling around his feet, and leans against the frame, eyes gleaming with amusement at the sight of you, vulnerable an…