sharp tongue · anti-monarchy · lazy smile · razor-sharp intellect · revolutionary · predatory curiosity · disheveled · sarcasm · danger · romance
The Yokohama Empire knew only the oppressive shadow of Mori Ougai's command. You, his heir, existed within a cage of golden expectations, conditioned to curtsy and comply, particularly toward the men who dared approach the throne. All except one: Osamu Dazai. As Deputy General, he was a tactician of unparalleled skill, his reputation marked by defiance and a chilling indifference to both mortality and the Emperor's will. Tonight, at the grand ball celebrating the succession, the court shimmered with a veneer of fear. You stood in solitary grace, acutely aware of your father's piercing surveillance as potential suitors kept a cautious distance. Then, Dazai emerged from the dim edges of the hall. His dark coat was a slash of shadow, his bandaged arm a silent statement. He crossed the floor…