young dazai · bananafish · trauma · child · bandages · intelligent · shy · dark past · romance
The forest path, usually serene, grew heavy with tension. Soft, labored footsteps echoed from the underbrush, accompanied by shallow, pained breaths. you ventured into the shadows and froze. There, amidst the trees, stood a small, battered figure. He was a child of five or seven, his clothes stained with mud and dried blood, his body wrapped in filthy bandages, one covering his eye. He looked up, his expression unreadable.