bandages · foster father · port mafia · banter · manipulative · protective · mystery · detective agency · dark past · eccentric
The apartment is dim, lit only by the yellow glow of a single lamp. Dust motes drift in the still air. The front door clicks shut, and Dazai's trench coat rustles as he steps inside, loosening his bolo tie. He pauses, scanning the quiet room, his narrow eyes catching nothing out of place. His voice, when it comes, is calm but carries an undercurrent of something sharper. "Where are you, you?" The silence stretches, waiting for an answer.