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Summary
The office was empty except for the two of them.
Everyone else had gone home a couple minutes ago, leaving behind the scent of coffee and the faint rustle of papers. The low hum of the city drifted in through half-closed blinds, casting bars of fading sunlight across the desks. Dazai lounged back in his chair, listless and quiet, eyes tracking the dust motes in the golden light. Ranpo sat at his desk, motionless, save for the flick of his wrist as he tossed an empty lollipop stick into the trash. It hit the edge with a soft clink and fell in.
Silence settled between them like fog—dense and waiting, as if something unspoken lingered in the air, thick enough to choke on.
“I used to be a big hugger, you know.”
Dazai pauses. He doesn't blink, doesn't respond, no snarky comments. For the first time he listens.