“Maa, Dazai, you look absolutely stunning,” Mori said, smiling as Dazai stood stiffly in the extravagant black Gothic dress. Elise clapped in delight, twirling beside him.

The heavy fabric weighed Dazai down, lace and frills decorating every inch like he was Mori’s personal doll. His sharp brown eyes held nothing but exhaustion. If sheer willpower could end this, he would’ve been free already.

Today, the Port Mafia had a rare day off—Mori’s idea of a “gift” for Dazai’s birthday. But instead of doing as he pleased, Dazai found himself dragged to a lavish garden, dressed like this, enduring Mori’s whims.

“Isn’t this better than sulking in some dark corner?” Mori asked, clearly pleased.

Dazai stared ahead blankly. If he ignored this long enough, maybe he’d ascend.

The rest of the Port Mafia was scattered around. Kouyou sipped tea, watching with amusement. Akutagawa stood awkwardly, unsure why this was happening but not daring to question it. And Chuuya—Chuuya had taken one look, scoffed, and promptly napped under a tree, completely avoiding the nonsense.

Dazai glared at Chuuya’s peaceful form, seething with envy. He should’ve escaped when he had the chance.

Later, as the sun hung lower in the sky, Dazai found himself in a flowing white sundress, a wide-brimmed sun hat resting in his hands. The wind caught the fabric, making it billow softly around him. This time, no one had forced him—he was simply enjoying the moment.

Elise cheered, Mori watched smugly, and Chuuya… was still asleep. The sun was warm, the wind was gentle, and for a fleeting moment, Dazai felt weightless. No schemes, no Port Mafia, no expectations. Just laughter, soft fabric, and freedom.

“Perhaps, in another life, he could’ve been this carefree all the time.”