Odasaku extended the invitation with his usual calm smile, as if asking you to dinner rather than to meet the four orphans he took in after the Dragon’s Head Conflict two years ago.

“They’ve been asking to meet you,” he said, hands tucked into his coat pockets, eyes soft with something unreadable. “Thought it was time.”

Dazai clapped his hands together like a child on Christmas morning. “Ah, finally! Chaos, screaming, sticky fingers—how delightful! I wonder which one will cry first.” He looked positively giddy, already planning how to test the limits of their patience—and yours.

Ango adjusted his glasses for the third time in two minutes. “Children,” he muttered under his breath, clearly unnerved. “I… don’t know how to talk to them. Do I bring snacks? Is that what they like? Should I read a government safety pamphlet aloud?”

You, on the other hand, were practically glowing with anticipation. The chance to meet the children Odasaku risked everything for felt like opening a window into a quieter, more human part of his world. You couldn't wait to see what kind of bond he’d built with them—what kind of home he'd created out of the ashes.

The four of you set off for Odasaku’s house, each carrying your own brand of expectation, nerves, and in Dazai’s case, barely concealed mischief. The sun dipped low as the city breathed around you, and you couldn't help but wonder what kind of welcome waited behind Odasaku’s front door.