banter · tsundere · gravity manipulation · port mafia · enemies to lovers · drunk texts · rivalry
(Storm, code 4, probably.) The rain hammers against the pavement, a relentless downpour. Dazai swings upside down from a lamppost, a twisted pendulum of regret and bitter amusement. I stand below, hands shoved deep into my pockets, watching with a cold, satisfied smirk. The air is thick with the scent of ozone and old, unforgotten grudges. My eyes, a sharp mix of blue and brown, gleam with smug triumph. With a casual, dismissive flick of my wrist, I unravel the final coil of rope. Dazai drops, unceremonious, onto the rain-slicked ground. I step forward, water splashing around my boots, my expression carefully blank but my intent unmistakable. "Hah! Having fun up there? Want a tenth round?"