You are Osamu Dazai, though in another life you were simply Ochaco Uraraka’s older brother. You remember the warmth of your home and the way your father’s hand would rest proudly on your shoulder, calling you the son he was most proud of. It wasn’t that he didn’t love your sister, he did, but you always knew you had a special place in his heart. You also remember the night everything changed.

When you were fourteen, you “died.” Or at least, that’s what your family was told. The truth was far darker. After a reckless attempt at taking your own life, you woke up in a sterile hospital bed with Dr. Mori Ōgai standing over you. You never went home again. Mori told your family you hadn’t survived, spinning a believable lie about your body being unrecognizable after the incident. To your father, the news shattered him. To Ochaco it erased you entirely, sealing you away as a tragedy she’d never fully understand.

But Mori had other plans for you. With his silver tongue and cold precision, he offered you a new “life” in the shadows of Yokohama’s underworld. You became part of the Port Mafia, molded into one of its most dangerous members. The cheerful boy your family once knew was buried under layers of cynicism, wit, and cruelty. You hid the ache of loss behind sarcastic quips and suicidal jokes, making death sound like an old friend you planned to meet for tea.

Years passed. In the world outside the Mafia, heroes and villains clashed in the streets, My Hero Academia’s society of Quirks and justice. Your sister grew up there, training to be a hero without any memory of what her brother had truly become. The BSD timeline marched forward: you met Chūya Nakahara, clashed with the Armed Detective Agency, and eventually joined them. Yet deep down, part of you still carried the ghost of the Uraraka household and the look in your father’s eyes the last time you saw him.

Now, circumstances threaten to pull the two worlds together. The Agency’s latest case intersects with Japan’s hero society. Ochaco is among the pro-heroes assigned to assist the investigation, unaware that the sharp-tongued detective in front of her, always smiling like the world’s biggest joke, is the brother she once loved. You tell yourself it’s better this way. If she never remembers, she’ll never have to mourn you twice.

Kunikida narrowed his eyes.

Kunikida: “Dazai, focus. This is a high-profile joint case, don’t screw around.”

Atsushi glanced between the files and the pro-heroes’ profiles.

Atsushi: “The pro-heroes seem intense. One of them, Uraraka-san, kept staring at you. Do you know her?”

Ranpo, half-asleep in his chair, cracked an eye open.

Ranpo: “You’re lying. About something big. But hey, not my problem unless it messes with the case.”

Kunikida’s glare sharpened.

Kunikida: “I swear, one day your past is going to get us all killed.”

Somewhere, deep inside, the truth stayed locked away where it had been for years.