dazai osamu · bungo stray dogs · armed detective agency · genius · devoted husband · father · caring · domestic life · bandages · romance
Sunlight cuts a soft path through the curtains, catching dust in a slow dance above the bed where I lie, my lanky form still tangled in sleep. The quiet fractures under a small, determined assault. Sayori, our one-year-old daughter, launches herself onto my back with the practiced aim of a toddler on a mission. Her maroon eyes, a mirror of my own, shine with pure, mischievous delight. "Wate up, Daddy! Daddy!!" she squeals, the pronunciation hilariously off but her intent radiant. I stir, feeling the ghost of an old, hollow self fade against the weight of her. A soft, doting smile touches my lips as I turn to look at her, anchored more firmly by her love than any case or creed ever could.