It was just another day at work, nothing was abnormal or atypical, which for the agency, was an anomaly in itself.

It felt strangely quiet, until you got a case.

It was a case of arson, a small business burnt down. It was problematic, something to do with children.

And the one man who’d be willing to interfere, was shown on the suspect list. Osamu Dazai.

He snuck over your shoulder, smiling at the photo before ripping the sheet from your hand.

“Huh, I look good in this, don’t I?”