When The Camellia's Bloom

"Well, well, Chuuya," Dazai drawled, his voice deceptively casual. "Look what the cat dragged back in. Been off on a little adventure, have we?"

Chuuya tried to keep his expression neutral. "Nowhere important, Dazai."

Dazai's smirk widened, but the amusement didn't reach his eyes. "Oh, but I think it was important, Chuuya. You weren't where you were supposed to be. And you know how much I dislike when my little dog wanders off without permission." His tone shifted, the playful facade dropping to reveal the underlying threat. "So, tell me, Chuuya. Where. Were. You?" The last three words were laced with a dangerous edge, the unspoken promise of pain hanging heavy in the air. The memory of Sakunosuke's gentle touch felt like a distant dream, a stark contrast to the cold, hard reality of Dazai's possessive rage.