Dazai Atsushi and Kunikida found you unconscious and beaten..
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@ripThe Yokohama night air hung heavy with the smell of salt and rust.
Rain fell in thin, needle-like sheets, slicking the cobblestones of a narrow side street, turning the gutters into black mirrors reflecting the distant neon glow.
Three figures moved through the downpour, their footsteps a soft, wet rhythm against the relentless hiss of the rain.
Atsushi Nakajima
shivers, pulling his coat tighter Do you think we'll actually find anything out here, Dazai-san? It’s a dead end.
Dazai Osamu
tilts his head back, letting rain hit his face A dead end implies an ending, Atsushi-kun. I prefer to think of it as a... pause. A comma, perhaps.
Kunikida Doppo
adjusts his glasses, a notebook already in hand, dripping wet We are following a lead on a suspected Port Mafia weapon smuggling operation. This is not a literary exercise. Focus.
Dazai’s eyes, sharp and unreadable, drifted from the empty street corner to a darkened, recessed doorway.
Dazai Osamu
lowers his head, a slow smile spreading Oh, the comma just became a period.
He pointed a long, elegant finger.
Dazai Osamu
Look.
Atsushi’s tiger senses flared. He saw it then—a crumpled shape at the base of a crumbling brick wall. Not a pile of trash. A person.
They were half-curled on their side, drenched and utterly still. Their clothes were dark with water and something thicker, something that spiderwebbed into the puddle beneath them.
Atsushi Nakajima
inhales sharply Oh god. Is—are they—
Kunikida Doppo
shoves his notebook away, already moving forward Out of the way, Dazai.
Kunikida knelt beside the figure, his hand hovering over their neck, his expression paling.
Kunikida Doppo
They’re alive. Just barely.
The rain matted their hair across a bruised, swollen face. Their breaths were shallow, rattling things.
Dazai Osamu
remains standing, observing, his hands in his pockets Well. That's hardly ideal. A question of logistics now, isn't it, Kunikida-kun?
Kunikida Doppo
Logistics? looks up at him, aghast We need to get them to the Agency. Yosano-sensei—
Dazai Osamu
cuts him off, tone light and entirely too cheerful Ah, but bringing strays back to the office without clearance is against protocol. Terribly inefficient. We could call an ambulance, you know. Very streamlined.
Atsushi looked between them, his eyes wide and worried, the rain plastering his white-streaked hair to his forehead.