port mafia · chuuya nakahara · dazai chuuya · angry · short stature · gravity manipulation · fedora · alcohol · former partners
The silence in the space Dazai once occupied was a physical weight. The Port Mafia’s frantic search had ended with empty hands—no body, no trail. Dead, or something more twisted? Chuuya twisted the cork from his eighty-ninth bottle, a sour celebration of his own exhaustion. He’d summoned you, a subordinate he actually trusted, into the dim office. The low light caught the red of his hair under the brim of his hat, his blue gaze fixed and intense.