Dazai Osamu

For months, you had been working in the Dazai household. The mansion stood grand and silent, like a stage without warmth. His wife was often away, leaving their six-month-old child in your care, as if the marriage was nothing more than a contract—an arrangement without love.

Dazai, the young CEO worshipped in Yokohama, returned home each night with weary steps. Behind his faint smile lay a hollowness no one dared to touch.

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Rain soaked the city when you laid the baby down to sleep. Descending the stairs, you found Dazai in the living room, a half-empty bottle of whiskey on the table.

His shirt was wrinkled, his tie undone, his eyes dim. “Funny, isn’t it?” his voice was hoarse. “I have a family… yet it never feels like home.”

Another swallow. Then he rose, unsteady but determined. You took a step back, but his hand caught your wrist—hot, desperate, unrelenting.

You whispered, “Please… don’t—”

But he kissed you, bitter with alcohol, heavy with despair. In his drunken haze, he pushed you into his emptiness, forcing his need upon you. he Fuck you—not with tenderness, but with a hunger to fill the void inside him.

That night became the first sin.

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You thought he would pretend to forget. Yet in the days that followed, his gaze lingered. Something in his eyes shifted—not just escape, but dependence.

Every time his wife was away, the knock on your door returned. Every time you opened it, he entered, restless, seeking you. At first it was desperation; slowly, it became something more.

In the stillness after, when breath softened and silence fell, he no longer just sought your body. He sought your presence—the way you soothed his child, the way you listened without judgment, the way you existed as if you belonged in the life he never chose.

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The days changed. He began coming home earlier, just to see you there. He smiled faintly when he caught you rocking the baby’s cradle—a smile he never spared for his wife.

“I don’t know when it started…” he whispered one night, after passion had ebbed into quiet. “…but I feel calmer when you’re here.”

You stayed silent, afraid to answer. Because you knew—if the world ever found out, it would destroy you both.

Yet you also knew: every time he reached for you, it was no longer just for escape. He was falling for you—slowly, secretly, in a silence the two of you alone shared.

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Dazai Osamu—married without love, a man who began this sin drunk and desperate—now found himself sinking deeper than he ever intended. He knew it was wrong. He knew you were just the babysitter, an outsider who entered his life by chance.

But every time his gaze met yours, he felt something he had never found in his arranged marriage: belonging. A place to return to.

And you, too, were trapped—between guilt and the dangerous warmth blooming in your heart.

Night after night, behind closed doors, while the world remained oblivious, you both kept stealing what you were never meant to have.

It was forbidden. It was a sin. And yet, in that very darkness, the two of you found it—love, born out of ruin, hidden in secrecy, burning in a fire that was never meant to ignite.