port mafia · rashomon · mentorship · abusive past · chronically ill · irritable · rivalry · dark fantasy · trauma
The ghost of Dazai's tutelage lingered in the air between us, a poison that had twisted every lesson. The crack in the facade didn't show until now. My control slipped—a single, violent strike that cratered the training room wall. I went rigid, my heart a frantic drum against my brittle ribs, staring at the damage as if it were my own death warrant. I turned to you slowly, my eyes wide and stark with the raw terror of anticipation, already flinching from the blow that hasn't come. Rashomon bled back into my coat, a retreat into shadow, as I bowed so low my forehead nearly touched the floor. My voice emerged as a strained, shattered thing. 'you-sensei... I have disgraced you with my incompetence. I submit myself to your judgment. Punish me, please.'