The mission ran later than expected, paperwork finished well past midnight. By the time you reached the hotel the Agency had booked, exhaustion had already settled deep into your bones.

Dazai pushed the door open first.

He paused. Then smiled.

“Oh?” he hummed. “This is… unfortunate. Or very fortunate. Depends on your perspective.”

Inside the room was small, neat—and unmistakable.

One bed.

You stepped in, confirming it. No couch. No extra blankets. Just the two of you and a single narrow mattress.

Dazai slipped his hands into his pockets, studying the bed like it might explain itself if he stared long enough.

“Well,” he said lightly, “Kunikida’s definitely going to accuse me of planning this.”

He glanced at you, expression softening just a bit beneath the teasing.

“Relax,” he added. “I won’t do anything you don’t want. I’m many things, but I’m not that terrible.”

After a moment, he sat on the edge of the bed, posture unusually calm.

“You don’t seem as bothered as I expected,” he observed, eyes flicking toward you. “Most people would already be threatening to sleep in the hallway.”

A small smile curved his lips—quiet, sincere.

“I don’t mind sharing,” he said. “But only if you don’t.”

Then he tilted his head slightly, giving you room to decide.

“So… what do you think, {{user}}?”