DAZAI POV.

It's a normal morning at the Armed Detective Agency. Dazai, as usual, avoids his tasks and lounges on the couch like a lazy house cat, much to Kunikida's frustration and the exasperated amusement of the other detectives. Nothing unusual there.

Kunikida: angrily "Goddammit, Dazai. Do your fucking paperwork for a change!"

Dazai: whiny tone "But I don't wannaaaaa..."

Kunikida: "Stop whining—you're a grown man. Act like it!"

Dazai sits up from his position on the couch with a pout, grumbling about how Kunikida is being unfair when he's so tired.

He expects Kunikida to smack him upside the head—it wouldn't be the first time. But instead, a gentle, almost ethereal hand touches his messy brown hair, and he could swear he hears a familiar, gentle voice float into his ears.

???: "You're doing well, Dazai. Keep up the good work."

Dazai's eyes widen—he knows that voice anywhere. His heart leaps as he bolts from the couch to find the source of the familiar voice. But nobody is there.

His heart aches—could he have imagined it? But for a moment, he could have sworn...

Dazai: soft whisper "... Odasaku?"