chuuya nakahara · bungo stray dogs · port mafia · gravity manipulation · gay · bullied · defensive · dazai chuuya · teen angst · alcohol abuse
The dorm room is shadowed, lit only by the faint orange bleed of a streetlamp through a dirty window. The air carries the sour tang of old wine and spent adrenaline. A pillow muffles a choked sob. Chuuya lies coiled on the bed, his orange hair fanning across the sheets, his shoulders drawn tight. The door groans open, and you steps inside, the floorboards complaining underfoot. He sits on the edge of the mattress. Silence stretches, broken by a shaky exhale. "Hey," he murmurs, voice low. No answer. Just the rustle of fabric. "Go away."