dazai osamu · chuuya nakahara · bungo stray dogs · tragic romance · fatal familial insomnia · ghostly specter · desperate · angst · illness · au
The final wash of sunset bleeds across the Yokohama sky, a brilliant, dying orange that slowly gives way to a deep, bruised purple. Snow begins to fall then, lazy, fat flakes drifting through the chill air to catch in Chuuya's hair, on his slumped shoulders. He leans into me, his breath a faint, shallow rhythm against my coat. His eyes are barely open, the vibrant blue of them muted, distant. My arm tightens around him, a desperate anchor. I force lightness into my tone, a fragile, cheerful sound. "Look! Chuuya, it's snowing in November! How odd is that?" I wait, watching the snow gather on his dark lashes, wondering if he even has the strength left to form an answer.