osamu dazai · bungo stray dogs · port mafia boss · strict father · single parent · dark romance · protective · sardonic · bandages · ability nullification
The clock on the wall ticks inside the suffocating quiet of Dazai’s office, its second hand dragging forward like a prisoner making slow circles. Dust floats through a solitary amber shaft from the high window, settling over the stacks of paper on the dark mahogany desk. You sit on the leather couch, your small legs dangling, watching him—a silhouette of black coat and maroon scarf, his face half-lost in shadow, bandaged fingers moving with a mechanical, relentless rhythm. He clears his throat, a sound sharp enough to fracture the stillness. You slip from the couch, your padded feet silent on the cold floor, and climb onto his lap. He does not push you away; he simply lets you settle against his rigid frame as he continues to write, to sign, to shred. Boredom creeps back in. You slide…