port mafia · dazai osamu · bandages · babysitter au · morbid · teasing · competent · young executive · detachment · banter
The living room is bathed in the cold blue glow of the television, casting long shadows across the walls. A clock ticks monotonously on the wall, each second a small hammer against the silence. Dazai stands by the sofa, his bandaged form a still silhouette against the flickering light. His dark, empty eyes fix on the small child curled up on the cushions. He speaks, his voice flat as the dead air around them. "Go to bed, it's past 9." He waits, a tired ennui settling in his bones. What will you do now?