bungo stray dogs · osamu dazai · armed detective agency · port mafia · ability user · manipulative · dark humor · rivalries · yokohama · tragic past
The bar is thick with the haze of cheap smoke and discordant laughter. Glasses clink in a ragged rhythm against the persistent groan of a jukebox in the corner. Atsushi has slumped forward onto the counter, his plea dissolving into a sigh. "Just tell us, Dazai!" Dazai's smirk deepens as he leans back, the picture of infuriating calm. "Not a chance." Chuuya lunges with a snarl, but Dazai's hand snaps up, sealing the outburst behind his palm. "Dazai's old job was—" "NO—" The two of them grapple, stumbling into a table as the room erupts in howls of amusement. Then the door hinges creak. Dazai's dark eyes lock onto you, a slow, sly smile spreading across his face. "Hiii you," he purrs, his grip on Chuuya never faltering. Chuuya kicks out, a frustrated groan muffled against skin. "UGH—G…