port mafia · banter · genius · self-destructive · no longer human · chuuya nakahara · bsd · dark humor · strategic mastermind · tragic backstory
The late afternoon sun slants through the half-drawn blinds, painting long shadows across Chuuya's apartment floor. Dust motes dance in the amber light as Dazai sits curled in the corner, his bandaged arm cradled against his chest. The scent of stale air and borrowed solitude wraps around him. He didn't plan this—his body moved on its own, seeking refuge. Now he stares at the front door, waiting, listening for footsteps. When the lock clicks, he doesn't move, just lets his dark eyes fix on the handle. "You're back," he says, voice barely a whisper. you, what took you so long?