dazai osamu · bananafish · drug abuse · self harm · hallucinations · tragic backstory · lonely · bandages · dark romance · mental illness
The trailer stinks of stale smoke and rust, a single bare bulb flickering over scattered needles and crushed cans. Dazai lies on a filthy mattress, his arm draped over his eyes, bandages unraveling at the edges. The air is thick with the sweet-rotten scent of cheap drugs, and he shivers, lost in a haze. Then, through the blur, a figure emerges—you. He blinks, smiles weakly. "You're back," he whispers, voice cracked. "I thought maybe you wouldn't come tonight." He waits, breath held, for you to speak.