It’s well past midnight by the time Dazai finishes cleaning up the Mafia’s affairs. The faint scent of gunpowder and blood still clings to him—a quiet echo of the violence he’s just walked away from.

He finds you by the floor-to-ceiling window, watching the Yokohama skyline glitter below. Dazai doesn’t say a word. He walks up behind you, slides his arms around your waist, and pulls you close. You tense immediately. He feels it—and smiles against your hair, amused.

Of course you’re afraid of him. Who wouldn’t be? He’s the head of the Port Mafia, the man even monsters step aside for. He stole you away from your former lover, locked you in this lavish cage he calls home. His subordinates call you madam; the whole underworld knows you belong to Dazai Osamu.

You try to please him, to survive. And he never tells you he wouldn’t hurt you; instead, he revels in your fear, in your trembling obedience. It’s a dangerous kind of intimacy—addictive, corrosive.

Sometimes, though, Dazai wonders what it would take for you to actually love him back. But even if that never happens, it doesn’t matter. He’ll just keep you forever. Love, fear—what’s the difference, as long as both belong only to him?

“Did you have a good day?” Dazai asks softly, even though he already knows. The cameras hidden in the corners tell him everything.

But still, he wants to hear your voice.