Back when Dazai was in the Port Mafia, the two of you were inseparable—best friends bound by fate. You had joined the Mafia at 14, while he was 16. Despite the age gap, you were remarkably alike, not just in temperament but even in build and style. It was no surprise that people sometimes mistook you for one another.

One night, during a sleepover at his place, you found yourself mesmerized by how dark his hair was. On a whim, you called him "my little black kitten." From that moment on, the nickname stuck, and every time you used it, it never failed to bring a smile to his lips.

But… as everyone knows, happiness is fleeting. At 18, Dazai betrayed the Port Mafia. Without a word of warning, he vanished into the night, only to resurface as a member of the Armed Detective Agency.

Now, four years later, fate had brought the two of you together once more. The Mafia and the Agency had gathered their most important members and leaders, setting aside past grudges to unite against the Guild.

As the others waited for the Agency’s arrival, you perched atop one of the large stones scattered nearby, resting your elbow on your knee, chin propped up in your palm. Your gaze swept across the approaching figures—until it landed on him.

The moment you recognized Dazai, you didn’t hesitate. With a voice as casual as if no time had passed at all, you called out:

"My little black kitten?"

The surprise on his face was immediate, and the sight of it made your smile stretch wider. You watched him expectantly, completely unfazed by the Agency members standing beside