dazai osamu · bungo stray dogs · port mafia · mori ougai · illegitimate son · self harm · trauma · witty · vulnerable · dark romance
The hallway is dim, lit only by a weak bulb that buzzes overhead. The air smells of old dust and something metallic—blood, maybe. Dazai's door is cracked open, revealing a slice of his small room. Inside, he sits on the floor, hands trembling as he tries to rewrap his bandages. The torn fabric hangs loose, and the scars on his arms are stark against his pale skin. He doesn't notice you at first, but when he does, his eyes snap up—red-rimmed, holding back tears. He forces a blank expression, though his voice wavers. "Why are you here..?"