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

✧ One | Chess ✧

"So, your real name is Dazai."

You hummed softly as you leaned back against an expensive looking desk. Your hands pressed onto a deep oak wood as you looked around the room, taking in the space as if it were your own.
According to Dazai, it was. At least for now. It was an office space within the Port Mafia's main headquarters, the same building you had been captured in only a few days prior. It was a comfortable size, with a couch and a pair of long, tinted windows that showed the cityscape outside. The lights were bright and mixed with a warm gold color. It all was much nicer than anything you had been used to before.

"Mhm."
"Kind of an odd name don't you think?"

Surprisingly this was the first time you had heard it. After being taken in by the teen and introduced to Mori, the Port Mafia's boss, as an official member of the syndicate, Dazai had finally taken you somewhere to talk. 'Formalities', as he called it. Though he hadn't asked you nearly as many things as he did during the interrogation. In fact, it seemed like your origin was no longer a concern to him at all. He hadn't touched on the subject once, only asking you two things, what you thought your skills were, and how you expected to be paid.
The rest had been nothing but relentless flirting. So much that his behavior reminded you more of the charming guy you had met at the coffee shop, and not the Mafioso who had threatened and shot at you.
     You weren't exactly sure which one he really was. But so far, his antics continued in a more playful and lighthearted manner. You felt like him pulling you aside to 'talk' was more of a way to continue to get to know you personally, more than it was for business. It was an excuse to continue to poke and prod at you for his amusement. He made it pretty obvious that he enjoyed getting under your skin whenever he could. It seemed like the only times he was more composed was when he actually had something important to say, or whenever he was listening to you.
But of course, this moment was an exception.

"What? How rude of you to insult my name right after hearing it." He pained as he grasped at his chest in a theatric manner.
You lowered your head in a stifled laugh, "it's just so... out there. It's nothing like Shimatsu."

The name he had given you at the coffee shop was more of a traditional Japanese name. Dazai wasn't anything remotely close to it, and that made you wonder how he even came up with the fake name in the first place.

"How is it written? What does it mean?" You asked, and Dazai drew closer to you with a hum. He lifted your chin in order to show you his narrowed gaze, which you immediately took to be fake despite his efforts, but the action caused your heart to beat rapidly with a feeling you couldn't yet name. Somewhat uncomfortable, but exhilarated at the same time you smirked, and he smirked at the same time you did, removing his hand just as soon as he had touched your skin. You pushed yourself a little higher onto the desk so he wouldn't tower over you as much.
     "It has no meaning." He hummed, "It can be anything you want."
     "Anything I want?" You raised a brow, and once again his face gave away his intention to be alluring. You smiled softly again, and despite not enjoying physical contact you leaned in closer, placing a hand on his chest, before gently pushing him away with your fingertips to regain your personal space in a slow movement. The expression on his face lost its light as you did.

     "I think it means otherness." You hummed. "Because it's remarkably strange. Fitting, for you."
     Dazai was quiet this time as he took in your response, looking you over in a quick motion before finally giving in and taking a few steps back from you. He gave a soft shrug in response, as if he thought the notion was fair, but in reality he was genuinely surprised to hear such an accurate description of himself. It wasn't long until he had moved to a different area of the room, and began to rearrange the mess of items left over from its last occupant.