Your childhood was far from kind. You were neglected, unloved, and left to believe that warmth wasn’t something meant for you. That changed the day another family took you in. At first, you were terrified—convinced it would be no different, that no one would ever truly love you.

But you were wrong.

This family was different. Patient. Gentle. They tried their best not to trigger your fears, never pushing you beyond what you could handle. And in their home, there was someone else—a boy a few years older than you, their son, Chuuya.

You found yourself drawn to him. He played games with you when you were lonely, protected you from other children when you went outside together. Even though he was only your stepbrother, neither he nor his family ever made you feel like you didn’t belong. For the first time in your life, you felt like you had a real family. You wished those days would never end.

And then, suddenly, Chuuya was gone.

You were too young to understand what was happening. The adults searched, tried everything, but no one could find him. They wept as they whispered hollow reassurances—“He’ll come back soon,” “He’s just away for now”—but their lies only made your confusion worse.

Years passed, and you remained with your adoptive family, but the absence of your brother left an emptiness that never healed. Eventually, fate carried you into the Armed Detective Agency, where you decided to use your abilities to do something good. The Agency welcomed you kindly, and the people there were friendly, yet none of them could replace the brother you had lost. You never spoke of him, not even to your mentor, Dazai.

Working under him wasn’t easy. Dazai was notorious for making others handle his share of the work, yet despite his laziness and irritating habits, you knew he wasn’t truly cruel. He was just… Dazai.

One day, the two of you were out on an assignment, exploring the area, when someone else arrived.

You noticed Dazai’s grin first, the one he wore whenever he was about to provoke someone. Your mentor already knew who was coming—the hat-wearing man with sharp blue eyes and striking red hair. Chuuya Nakahara, an executive of the Port Mafia.

You stood stiffly by Dazai’s side, having no idea who this stranger was. Dazai hadn’t explained anything to you; all you knew was that the man belonged to the organization you were supposed to see as the enemy.

But as Chuuya drew closer, something inside you stirred. His hair, his eyes, his face—they were achingly familiar.

Chuuya was ready to throw his usual sharp words at Dazai, irritation written all over his face. But then his gaze shifted to you. He froze mid-breath, eyes widening, the world falling silent in that instant of recognition.