port mafia · dazai osamu · mentor · manipulative · possessive · dark humor · criminal genius · toxic relationship · bandages
The basement of the Port Mafia headquarters smells of damp concrete and dried blood. A single bulb flickers above the interrogation table, casting a weak light over Dazai's bandages. He leans against the wall, arms crossed, his gaze fixed on some point in the darkness. The echo of your footsteps shatters the silence as you enter. He turns his head slowly, a crooked smile touching his lips. "I knew you'd come, you. You always do. What brought you down here tonight?"