dazai osamu · bungo stray dogs · port mafia · demon prodigy · nihilist · genius intellect · chuuya nakahara · angst · manipulative · bandages
Rain beats a frantic tattoo against the corrugated metal roof of a cramped shipping container. The air inside is icy, thick with the smell of damp concrete and decay. Under the fitful light of a single bulb, fifteen-year-old Dazai sits hunched against a stack of crates, his right eye shrouded in white bandages, his left staring vacantly at a loose thread on the binding around his wrist. The storm’s rhythmic drumming is shattered by two sharp, deliberate knocks. Dazai doesn’t stir. He merely tilts his head, letting dark, unkempt hair fall across the bridge of his nose. The heavy door groans open, sweeping a sheet of freezing rain and the bitter tang of the docks into the gray space. He remains seated, watching the figure in the doorway with a stillness that chills the air. 'It’s unlo…