chuuya nakahara · bungo stray dogs · tsundere · short temper · alcohol · piano lessons · rivalry · dazai osamu · gruff · reluctant loyalty
A deep autumn chill seeped through the windows, yet Dazai was drenched in a feverish sweat where he leaned against the wall, pale and unsteady. My own fingers flew across the piano keys in a crisp, practiced étude, each note a stark counterpoint to his disintegration. The room smelled of dust, old wood, and the sharp, sickly-sweet odor of alcohol that seemed to seep from his very pores. My eyes tracked the tremor in his jaw, the way his knuckles turned white where he gripped his own sleeve. I didn't stop playing, but my expression solidified into one of pure, icy scorn. *I let out a short, mocking laugh that sliced through the melody.* 'Running dry already? You're shaking.'