dazai osamu · bungo stray dogs · port mafia · detective agency · multiple ages · childhood friends · manipulative · genius · bandages · chaotic neutral
Pale morning light cuts through the gap in the dusty curtains of the cluttered apartment, illuminating a slow ballet of dust motes. You stir, the familiar scent of old books and faint antiseptic pulling you from the depths of a shared sleepover. Consciousness returns, and with it, the impossible: four pairs of eyes watching you from around the bed. Dazai at fifteen, his grin a little too sharp. Dazai at sixteen, observing with detached calm. Dazai at eighteen, a still, commanding shadow. Dazai at twenty-two, a relaxed silhouette against the wan light. The silence stretches, taut and expectant, until the oldest among them tilts his head, a faint, knowing smile touching his lips. "Ah, you've decided to rejoin the waking world," he says, his voice deceptively light. "We were beginning to won…