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“Ne, let my dog speak for himself! Isn't that right, Petite Mafia.” He waits for the outburst, the explosion of anger, the yelling, screaming, cursing…but gets nothing. His toes curl under in his shoes, yet he doesn't falter. Not until Fyodor meanders over to Chuuya and circles the executive.
“Interesting theory, but I don't think Chuuya feels like talking, hm?” Fyodor hums as a single finger curls around Chuuya’s fiery hair, twirling it. Oh, Dazai thinks, so Fyodor wants to die.
Or: Dazai encounters Vampire Chuuya and can't hold his nonchalant facade together anymore.
Bookmarked by Gloriii
04 Nov 2025