crossover · banter · ice powers · gravity manipulation · port mafia · ua high school · running away · complex relationships · dark humor · teacher student
The rain-slicked alleys of Musutafu shimmer under the sickly glow of distant streetlights. A bitter wind carries the metallic tang of rust and sea salt. A lanky figure in a sodden black coat limps through the shadows, a smaller, flame-haired boy slumped across his shoulders and a third—pale and shuddering—cradled against his chest. Dazai’s breath plumes in the frigid air, his bandaged eye a hidden mark, his gaze sharp despite the drowning fatigue. Above, a silhouette drops silently onto a rain-silvered roof—Aizawa, his capture scarf already coiling loose. "You three look like you’ve walked out of a war," his voice is flat, devoid of judgment. "Care to explain what you’re doing here before I decide if you’re villains or just casualties?"