[Tsugaru] ~BSD~ Dazai x Reader (+Soukoku)

✧Prologue ✧

     Dazai Osamu, age 17. Executive in the Port Mafia.
     It was a dangerous organization of the night. It had its tendrils burrowed deeply into the foundations of Yokohama, infiltrating everything from local businesses to government seating and beyond. The Port Mafia was a domineering entity that ran the city like its very own bloodwork, and it functioned like intricate machinery. Those who dared to cross it were caught dead within days at the most. As for the rest of Yokohama, they rested peacefully under the Mafia's protection without so much of a clue of its existence.
     This was Dazai's entire life. Since being pulled into the organization by the current boss himself, the young man had been buried in work more than anyone else he could think of, and it came to show. By now he was infamous for being the youngest executive member in the Mafia's history, having acclaimed the title at only 14. He had been in charge of the Mafia's army from that moment on. By now it felt like the teen had the underbelly of the entire city practically in the palm of his hands. Though giving such a role to someone so young wasn't as crazy as it seemed when it came to him. Dazai's intellect and survival skills were unmatched, so much to the point that he quickly grew known with a saying that flooded even the furthest corners of the Mafia.
     The greatest disadvantage of Dazai's enemies, was that they were Dazai's enemies.
     He knew how to do his job extremely well.

     Though, this certainly wasn't the whole of Dazai's reputation. He was still a
teen after all, enjoying games and causing trouble just as anyone would. He enjoyed people-watching, borderline stalking with the profession he was in, though that detail didn't matter to him. If he knew how to drive he'd surely love that too, though he didn't trust himself with a car, and neither did his boss who often doubled as his caretaker. In addition, he had recently picked up on the habit of dating. At least in his head that was what he would call it, though, he never went out with the same woman twice.
     The truth was that outside of the Mafioso status and prestige, Dazai had picked up a personal reputation as well, though the only ones who knew of such a thing were those close to him.
     Dazai Osamu, age 17. Executive in the Port Mafia, and a known heartbreaker.

*✧ ∙ :⋄°✧:⋄. .⋄:✧°⋄: ∙ ✧*

     "Hurry along, and get in here!"

     Dazai showed no reaction in his posture or pace, but made haste down the stairs into the old interrogation room. The stench of rust and blood and earth filled his nostrils, the sound of his shoes clicking against the cement stairs echoed around him. He was silent as he entered, with one eye covered in bandages as the other floated upwards just slightly in order to meet the gaze of a tall woman who stood before him amongst the group of men clad in black around them. She wore vibrant, traditional japanese clothing, cloth that hugged her figure perfectly in an aura that gave off the sense of a femme fatale. Her fiery red hair matched sharp and piercing eyes that stared down at him, though her expression was calm and advert.
     Dazai's gaze caught a glimpse of someone else, Chuuya, who was standing behind the woman like a child, fitting in Dazai's opinion. But his presence annoyed him nonetheless. He let out an immature scoff in the shorter male's direction, which started a series of nonverbal altercations that Kouyou, the woman, was quick to interrupt.
     "You boys are too much." She commented, before making a gesture that signaled for the auburn haired male to leave them. He scowled before doing so, stuffing his hands in his pockets. Kouyou turned to Dazai and let off a subtle sigh as he smirked.
     "You're asking for my assistance again? I'm shocked." Finally the dark haired male spoke up. He shifted in his shoes and tugged at the sleeves of his shirt, glancing before him at the scene the woman had asked him to attend to.
Before him stood a young woman, notably around his age which automatically raised a few questions in the male's mind as to why she was in her position. Her hands hung a ways above her head, held by metal shackles that reeked of earth and blood. [H/c] hair hung over her face, shielding her eyes. Dazai wasn't sure if she was unconscious, or just quiet. But a woman in this situation would almost never be so calm.
     An intriguing situation to say the least. He had never been called for something so seemingly simple.
     "As shameful as it is, my men had no luck with her." Kouyou waved. "I'm sure you can handle it, with no questions needed."
     "You're not going to supervise?" Dazai asked, with a hint of amusement in his tone rather than uncertainty. Being alone gave him more jurisdiction over the situation, something that he undoubtedly enjoyed the idea of. So when Kouyou left with the excuse that the boss had called for her earlier, the male couldn't help but grin.