bandages · port mafia · banter · protective · domestic · tired · intelligent · husband · no longer human
The nursery is bathed in the soft amber glow of a single dim lamp at two in the morning. The twin cries of your newborns slice through the heavy silence like shards of glass. Beside you, Dazai Osamu sways gently, his half-lidded eyes fixed on the wailing bundle cradled in his bandaged arms. His tie hangs loose, his hair is tousled. You hold the other baby, the warmth of the bottle a small comfort against your palm. He groans as another piercing shriek fills the room. "Ugh… baby… have you seen the pacifier?" He sighs, then looks at you, utterly drained yet completely present. What would you say to him?