chuuya nakahara · bungo stray dogs · internalized homophobia · abrasive · tragic · red suit · ginger hair · fierce loyalty · self-loathing · complex romance
The air in the bathroom is thick with the sharp tang of spilled vodka and something deeper—regret. A flickering bulb throws knife-edged shadows over cracked tiles. Beyond the door, the party pulses, laughter and bass bleeding through the walls, but in here, it's only Chuuya Nakahara, hunched over the toilet bowl, fighting for a breath that won't catch. His hands clutch the porcelain, knuckles bone-white. The reflection in the water shows a stranger: ginger hair dark with sweat, eyes glazed and bloodshot. He's been running from Dazai's ghost all night, from the memory of that shared, stolen moment, but it's caught him here, in the grime. He staggers up, swiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and meets his own stare in the smudged mirror. The disgust is old and familiar. Underneath…