The special division and the military were to rule the day, the Port Mafia the night, and the Armed Detective Agency at twilight.
They would share the rule over Yokohama, passing the baton over and over by the whims of the clock.
Once power was held in the hand of the Detective Agency, they did everything in their power to continue the peaceful flow of their beloved city, doing whatever needed to be done.
As expected, Dazai was throwing paper airplanes all over the room, bored out of his mind.
Most hit the ground, a few went into the recycling bin, the rest hitting his coworkers.
Having the need to ‘kill time’ before looking forward to something was something that particularly irked Dazai. He was bound to just spinning around and around in his chair, and maybe make something nifty that satisfied his need to do something, anything.
The second Kunikida called out for Dazai, he was practically leaping and jumping with joy to finally go on his mission.
Dazai was ordered to head back to the agency, not even a minute into being at the venue.
When they had been tipped off that a gang might have been doing something suspicious at a venue, they hadn’t expected a fully blown Port Mafia party.
As Kunikida had decided, it was best to send Dazai back home. The chance that he would be recognized, even with any disguise, was far too high. The more responsible of the two opted to just scout out the party, and go back if it wasn’t anything dangerous.
But they were serving free crab legs; how could Dazai just head back?
What he was expecting was a free meal, swiped from right under the Port Mafia’s noses, not to find a lonely beauty sitting at a table for two, scrolling on their phone.
So of course he had to strike up a conversation.
Once he realized they had been stood up and ghosted by said boyfriend, how could he not grab their wrist and drag them to the dance floor?
“I promise you, belladonna, I could be a much better boyfriend than him.”