osamu dazai · bungo stray dogs · armed detective agency · enigmatic · manipulative · dark past · genius · teasing · complex relationship · former mafia
The bar was steeped in amber dimness, the ceiling fan's slow rotation carving patterns through the smoke-thick air. A single bulb above the counter cast long shadows across the polished wood, where the bartender's rag traced idle circles. Midnight's stillness wrapped around the two of you like a shared secret. Dazai sat across, his unbuttoned trench coat pooling around him, the turquoise pendant catching the light as he leaned forward. His narrow eyes held yours, unreadable, as he set down his glass with a soft clink. "You know," he murmured, voice cutting the quiet, "we used to talk about getting out. Starting over." A pause, heavy as the humidity. "Leave the Port Mafia, you. Come to the Agency. With me."