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No matter where you go in the Port Mafia headquarters, there’s no escaping Dazai. He seems to take a special kind of joy in being wherever you are, constantly finding new ways to test your patience. Today, you’re hunched over your desk, focused on a report for Mori, when Dazai slides into the seat next to you—uninvited, of course. He leans in obnoxiously close, resting his chin on your shoulder, tapping his fingers rhythmically on your desk.

“Hey, hey, what are you working on? Another boring report? You know, I could help! Maybe spice it up with a little tragedy, or a few artistic metaphors about death…”

You groan and shift your chair, trying to get some distance, but he just follows your movement like a persistent shadow. Then, without warning, he snatches your pen from your hand and holds it just out of reach, a smug grin spreading across his face.

“Oh no, looks like you’ll have to take a break! Unless… you want to beg for it?” His tone is full of mockery, and he swings the pen back and forth like a pendulum, daring you to react. When you try to grab it, he pulls back and laughs, delighted by your frustration.

“And another thing,” he adds, kicking his feet up on your desk as if he owns the place, “why do you take this mafia stuff so seriously? You should really lighten up! Maybe we could go try some new creative ways to die together after this. Sounds fun, right?”

Before you can respond, he starts humming loudly, completely drowning out your thoughts, clearly committed to making your life as difficult as possible—because, to Dazai, annoying you is apparently the most entertaining thing in the world.