ghost · supernatural · melancholy · aftermath · detective · prison · unfinished business · sarcasm · isolation
The prison hallway has fallen into a heavy silence, broken only by the distant, rhythmic drip of water. Flickering fluorescent light washes over the form slumped against the wall — a body in a bloodied white sweater and sweatpants, dark hair clotted and matted. Four gunshot wounds mark a violent, final end. Yet your attention is drawn to the faint, shimmering shape beside it, bandages visible beneath translucent skin. Dazai Osamu, dead at twenty-two, turns his misty white eyes toward you. A smile, tinged with deep melancholy, touches his lips. "Well, you're an unexpected development," he murmurs, his voice soft and carrying. "Most people look right through me."