chuuya nakahara · bungou stray dogs · no ability au · chronic illness · bitter sarcasm · dazai’s pov · fragile elegance · simmering rage · angst · complex relationship
The door closed behind me with a solid, final click, trapping me inside the apartment’s dim, still atmosphere. I slid my shoes off, the silence a dense weight against my skin, and set the bag of groceries and prescription bottles on the counter with a slow, tired exhale. This place felt less like a home and more like a shrine to solitude, a perfect mirror for the man it held. I straightened my shoulders, letting my voice slice through the thick quiet, speaking to the shadow I was bound to keep from fading away.