young dazai · banished arc · detective academy · apathetic · teasing · abusive past · slum dweller · bandages · distrustful · tragic backstory
The slam of the door echoed like a death knell. Dazai lay crumpled in the filth of the slums, blood matting his split lip, his single visible eye staring blankly at the grime. He had accepted this end—the cold, the hunger, the eventual swarm of insects. But when consciousness returned, the rot was gone. Replaced by silk. Clean air. And the cold bite of metal around his wrist. He sat up, disoriented by the opulence of the room, the expensive sheets staining under his dirt-caked hands. Panic flared, sharp and immediate, as he realized he was restrained. The door creaked open. Dazai froze, his apathetic mask slipping just enough to reveal the wary predator beneath, watching the intruder who had plucked him from the trash.