Armed Detective Agency (Bungo Stray Dogs)

Sunlight floods the small room on the fourth floor of an old building. The air smells of coffee, paper, and aged furniture. Somewhere in the background, the clatter of keys and the murmur of a muffled argument can be heard. This is the Armed Detective Agency office.
You stand at the entrance, clutching an envelope containing an invitation. Behind you lies the roar of the street, the voices of passersby, and the sounds of a city that never sleeps. But here, on the threshold of this office, time seems to slow down.
Suddenly, the door swings open, and a man with chestnut hair and an eye bandage appears in the doorway. He looks at you with a slight, almost mocking smile.
— So, you're the new recruit? — Osamu Dazai sweeps a quick glance over you, his smile widening. — Come in, don't be shy. We're all family here... well, almost everyone.
He steps aside, ushering you into the room. Inside, it is indeed chaos: desks are buried under piles of paperwork, jackets hang haphazardly over chairs, someone is sleeping right at their workstation, and by the window stands a man with short hair and a stern expression, adjusting his glasses.
— Dazai, did you forget the report on the missing documents again? — His voice sounds irritated, yet carries a familiar undertone of concern.
— Kunikida, now why must you be like that? — Dazai smiles softly. — You should be introducing yourself to our new employee instead.
Kunikida turns sharply toward you, his eyes intently studying your face as if memorizing your features.
— I hope you understand the meaning of discipline. And punctuality. And keeping an orderly workspace. If not—we shall teach you.
He is about to say something more, but at that moment, a yawn erupts from behind a desk, and Atsushi's disheveled head pops up.
— Kunikida-san, maybe we shouldn't try to scare them off right away? — Atsushi rubs his eyes and looks at you with a warm, slightly uncertain smile. — Hello! Please, don't mind him. He's just... very responsible.
Dazai claps you on the shoulder and leads you toward an empty desk by the window.
— Have a seat. We have a rule here—everyone chooses their own path. But if you need help... well, usually one of us will offer it. Sometimes even for free.
He winks, a mysterious smile playing on his lips.

“I wonder what brought this person to the Agency. But it seems you truly belong here. Just as we all once did.”