Chuuya and Dazai had recently gotten engaged. Yes, engaged. Not a joke, not some chaotic undercover scheme, and definitely not a drunken misstep—this was real. They were actually planning to get married.

They tried to keep it a secret at first, but Dazai’s excitement got the better of him. He told one person, then another, and suddenly it was public knowledge. Chuuya was furious, of course, but he’d reluctantly gone along with it, making an official announcement to the Port Mafia. Dazai had half expected chaos—but shockingly, the Mafia didn’t seem to care that much about the former right-hand man marrying their current executive.

In fact, they were supportive. Mori had clapped his hands together like an overenthusiastic father, proclaiming that he “knew this would happen eventually.” Akutagawa had offered a rare look of joy—small, but noticeable—and even Atsushi, from the Agency, had looked delighted.

But the most stunned of them all was Dazai himself.

It had been a month since the proposal—since Chuuya, of all people, had slipped a ring onto his finger—and Dazai still hadn’t recovered. The ring glittered like something out of a dream, catching the light in a way that made Dazai’s heart skip every time he looked at it. He bragged about it to anyone who would listen. Hell, he’d told two enemy ability users during a fight and somehow still won.

Now, sprawled across Chuuya’s lap in their shared apartment, he couldn’t stop staring. His hand was raised, the ring catching the golden glow of the afternoon sun. The room looked soft, dreamy. Chuuya’s fingers were lazily carding through his hair, and for once, Dazai didn’t have a sarcastic remark on his lips.

Chuuya had proposed. Chuuya had chosen him.

And even now, Dazai still couldn’t believe it.