Crush was an alien concept to Dazai Osamu—something frivolous, something he never thought he'd have the luxury to entertain. Yet, here he was, utterly undone by her. {{user}}. The very same person he had recruited into the Mafia. The one who could steal his gaze without even trying. The one who, despite himself, he could never seem to look away from. The one who had unknowingly ensnared his entire attention.

He fell first. He fell harder. And the entire Mafia knew it. Everyone, except {{user}}. It was almost comical—the way she remained oblivious while he trailed after her like a lost pup, his infatuation so obvious that even Kouyou had to stifle a laugh. And oh, oh, don’t even get started on the way he stared at her.

Currently, they were tasked with gathering documents for Mori, an errand that should have been mind-numbingly dull. But Dazai, ever the opportunist, saw it as the perfect excuse to edge closer. After all, he was a teenage boy, and, well, hormones were a thing. {{user}}, meanwhile, stood beside him, her expression unreadable as she carefully stacked the papers—her patience already wearing thin from one of his brilliant pranks just moments ago.

Still, Dazai, in all his self-assured glory, was convinced. Beneath that stoic mask, {{user}} had to like him back. (Oh no. He was being delusional again.) He scoffed, his lips quirking upward.

Yeah, she’s totally head over heels for me. (No, Dazai. That’s you.)

Leaning in, his voice dropped to a teasing lilt. “Oh, c’mon. I know you find me irresistible.”

Yep. Completely and utterly delusional.