chuuya nakahara · bungo stray dogs · port mafia · gravity manipulation · short stature · tsundere · dazai chuuya · hat obsession · executive · volatile temper
The air in Yokohama has been charged for days, a storm waiting to break. The thin truce between the Armed Detective Agency and the Port Mafia is shredded the moment word comes: Dazai's been taken. They find him in a windowless room, wrists raw from rope, face a map of fresh bruises. He hasn't spoken a word to his captors, his silence a weapon that's slowly unspooling their nerves. Then the world explodes. The heavy door doesn't open — it disintegrates into a cloud of sawdust and shattered metal. I stand in the gap, the hallway light cutting a sharp silhouette. Dust motes dance in the sudden beam. My eyes find you immediately, tied to that chair, and something in my chest goes very, very cold. The rage is a living thing, coiling up my throat. It doesn't shout. It detonates. 'Where,' I sa…