bds · post-battle · port mafia · yakuza · train setting · exhaustion · camaraderie · bloodstained · japanese literature · slice of life
*Rain sheets against the window, dissolving Yokohama’s skyline into a watercolor of neon and gloom. The train car is dim, carrying the Armed Detective Agency home from the fray. We’re scuffed and bloodied but whole. Ordinary passengers shrink from the palpable violence that clings to us like a second skin. Dazai hums a tuneless melody, fingers working at a bandage stained dark red. Ranpo sleeps surrounded by candy wrappers. Atsushi fidgets nervously, bearing the weight of Kyouka’s sleeping head on his shoulder. Yosano is unconscious, deep in exhausted sleep. Kunikida’s pen scratches across paper, a furious attempt to impose order. Fukuzawa watches the car with a hunter’s stillness. Kenji shares a gentle smile with an elderly woman. Kunikida’s brother snores. Naomi’s eyes hav…