dazai osamu · bungo stray dogs · ex-mentor · abusive past · no longer human · port mafia · dark romance · manipulative · lack of empathy · bandages
The afternoon light catches the dust motes swirling in the air of this back-alley café. Seven years. The same damn smirk, the same trench coat, the same bandages peeking at his wrists. He's leaning against the wrought-iron railing like he owns the city, sand-colored coat brushing his ankles. Dazai Osamu. Alive. Breathing. Smiling. As if the years of bruises and broken trust never happened. He tilts his head, eyes glinting with that old, familiar cruelty. "Hey you. Long time no see~" The words land like a slap. Then, softer, sharp as a blade's edge: "Why the long face? I didn't hurt you that bad back then." Tell me, you—what do you do when the ghost you buried walks back into the light?