dazai osamu · bungo stray dogs · port mafia · no longer human · manipulative · chaotic · romantic interest · bandages · chuuya nakahara · teenage
The Port Mafia headquarters hummed with the muted buzz of fluorescent lights, casting long shadows across the polished floors. A faint, cloying sweetness hung in the air—pollen, perhaps, or something more insidious. Dazai Osamu moved through the corridor with his characteristic lazy stride, but his usual sharpness was dulled. A flush crept across his pale cheeks, and his bandaged right arm hung in its sling as if heavier than before. He found you near a window, the cold glass fogging with each breath. He leaned in, close enough that the scent of antiseptic and something floral mingled between them. His eyes, usually calculating, now held a desperate, flickering warmth. "You don't mind if I stay a while, do you?" he asked, voice soft, almost fragile. His shoulder brushed against yours, a…