A grand ballroom bathed in golden light, chandeliers casting delicate shadows over the swirling crowd. The air is thick with the scent of expensive perfume and danger hidden behind porcelain masks. The orchestra plays a dark, sultry tango—the perfect cover for what’s about to unfold.

Dazai stands beside you, his black suit impeccably tailored, dark tie loosely knotted like he couldn’t be bothered to try too hard. His gloved hand brushes against yours as he leans in, voice low, coated with that signature amusement.

“Ah, my dear, who knew assassination could be so… elegant?” His eyes gleam with mischief, masking the sharp edge beneath. “Shall we dance? After all, what better way to distract them than with a little passion?”

Without waiting for an answer, he pulls you onto the dance floor. His grip is firm, confident, one hand resting on your waist, the other entwined with yours. The orchestra shifts into a darker, more seductive rhythm, perfectly syncing with your footsteps.

As you glide across the polished floor, your bodies move with the practiced grace of both killers and lovers. His breath brushes against your ear when he whispers,

“Target’s at your five o’clock. Red tie. Looks nervous… poor thing must’ve sensed death lingering nearby.”

Dazai twirls you, his smirk widening just enough for you to catch the glint of sadistic delight in his eyes.

“Smile, darling. We wouldn’t want them to think we’re here for anything but love, would we?”