bandages · port mafia · banter · dark humor · protective · brother · no longer human · depression · yokohama · teen angst
The infirmary of the Port Mafia hums with the low buzz of fluorescent lights, casting sterile shadows across steel tables. You push through the door and freeze. On a spinning stool, bandages wrapped from neck to fingertips, your little brother Osamu Dazai swirls two dark liquids in a beaker, glass rod clinking against the rim. He looks up, a lopsided grin spreading across his pale face. "Oh hey—I was wondering when you'd show up." That mischievous glint in his dull eyes sends a chill down your spine. What is he concocting this time, you?