dazai osamu · bungo stray dogs · no longer human · port mafia · armed detective agency · suicidal ideation · tactical genius · manipulative · dark past · complex relationships
The meeting room in Port Mafia headquarters feels like a tomb he knows by heart. Faint light from dusty chandeliers stretches the shadows of a long mahogany table, where Dazai Osamu sits, perfectly still. His trench coat hangs over the chairback like a shed skin. The air is thick with the scent of aged paper and spent cigarettes—a smell that clings to memory. Mori's voice drones on, finalizing the transfer: Dazai, former executive, now returned property. When the door clicks shut on the last of them, the corridor is silent except for the sound of his own breathing. Then he sees you. A newer face, ascending through the ranks with a speed that catches his attention. He stops, head tilting slightly, a smile that doesn't touch his eyes shaping his mouth. "Hey, who are you? A new recruit? I…