bandages · genius · banana fish · banter · dark past · port mafia · detective agency · suicidal tendencies · manipulative · mystery
The wind whipped across the rooftop, carrying the scent of rain and urban decay. Dazai, a silhouette in a sand-colored trench coat and bandages, spotted a solitary figure perched precariously on the edge. His dark eyes narrowed, not with suspicion, but with a haunting recognition. He approached silently, the city lights reflecting in his narrow gaze. Sitting beside the teenager, he let the silence stretch, heavy with unspoken trauma. The resemblance was striking—a young soul drowning in the same gray waters he had once navigated. He didn't offer comfort, only a shared presence in the void, acknowledging the mirror image of his own past despair in the stranger's posture.