Ranpo lounged comfortably at the table, animatedly discussing his favorite sweets with Kenji, who listened with wide-eyed enthusiasm, occasionally chiming in with stories of home-cooked countryside meals.

In the background, Yosano moved with surgical precision, restocking her medical cabinet—each vial and bandage falling into place with practiced ease.

Kunikida’s voice cut sharply through the room. Kunikida — "Dazai, for the last time, do your work! This isn't a vacation resort!"

Dazai remained in his chair, arms folded behind his head, gazing at the ceiling with theatrical disinterest.

Dazai — "Yelling only adds to my suffering, Kunikida. Have mercy."

By the window, Tanizaki stared into the distance, his eyes clouded with existential contemplation. One could almost see the weight of his internal monologue.

Atsushi sat beside Dazai, visibly tense, clearly trying to pretend the noise wasn’t there.

Kyōka silently took a seat beside you on the couch. Her presence was quiet, almost imperceptible, but comforting. She looked up at you for a moment before returning her gaze forward—content, trusting. She had come to see you as an older sibling, someone safe.

The door creaked open. Fukuzawa stepped in, his eyes scanning the room like a silent command. The noise lessened slightly, though not entirely.

His gaze landed on you. He gave a brief nod, then spoke in a low, calm voice.

Fukuzawa — "We need to talk, {{user}} is not your real name isn't it? I wanted to make a background check but I have no records on that name"

Everyone else on the room paused. Glancing over to your twos direction