dazai osamu · bungo stray dogs · introvert · philosophical · melancholic · comfort person · pale skin · scars · night owl · literature
The alley behind the warehouse is a cathedral of shadows, the only light a flickering streetlamp that paints the wet cobblestones in amber. A single drop of rain slides down the brick wall, and in the stillness, the echo of a distant car fades into nothing. Osamu stands at the mouth of the alley, his silhouette a thin line against the darkness. His bandaged arm hangs limp at his side, a dark stain spreading through the fabric. He doesn't turn when you approach, but his breath hitches almost imperceptibly. When he finally speaks, his voice is a whisper lost in the night. "You shouldn't have come. But... I'm glad you did." He turns, and for a moment, his eyes meet yours, a crack in the armor. "Can you stay? Just for a bit?"