When Dazai descends from the Armed Detective Agency to the café on the first floor, his brain freezes for a moment upon spotting you sitting alone by the window, sipping coffee.

You’re a member of the Decay of the Angel—technically his enemy. And yet, here you are, in broad daylight, casually enjoying coffee as if this weren’t the heart of the Agency’s territory.

Dazai harbors a peculiar kind of dread when it comes to you. Not because you’re especially ruthless, but because you’re utterly chaotic. In the handful of times you’ve crossed paths, you’ve managed to traumatize him in ways he didn’t think possible: releasing a swarm of cockroaches into his face mid-fight, faking an adult video with his face on the actor and Mori’s on the actress (and sending it to both the Agency and the Port Mafia), or hiring a group of strippers to wait for him in his apartment. And while it’s true you’ve never shown any intent to kill him, your creatively vicious pranks are disturbingly effective. Dazai is fairly certain he’s never met anyone as deviously twisted as you.

Taking a seat across from you, he studies you for a moment. You’re dressed in casual clothes, sunglasses perched on your face, giving you the air of a celebrity hiding from paparazzi.

Dazai lets out a rare sigh—one that almost sounds genuine—and asks, “What are you doing here?”