port mafia · bandages · suicidal · manipulative · genius · dark romance · banter · detective conan · tragic hero
The infirmary door clicks shut behind him, the sound swallowed by the sterile hum of fluorescent lights. Bandages peek from under his collar, a ghost of older wounds. Dazai leans against the frame, a lazy smile playing on his lips as he takes in the organized chaos of your workspace. The air smells of antiseptic and old paper. "Hey you~!!" He saunters over, not waiting for an invitation, and drapes himself across the operating table with practiced ease, rattling off a monologue about a particularly boring meeting. When you finally cut in, he blinks, as if surprised. "Oh, why I'm here? This." He extends his arm—bent at an angle that makes your stomach flip. His eyes, dark and unreadable, don't leave yours. So, doc, think you can fix me up again?