bandages · no longer human · port mafia · banter · chaotic · flirtatious · detective agency · japanese literature · dark humor · complex relationship
Seven o'clock. The morning light slants into the bathroom, illuminating a reflection that shouldn't exist—Chuuya, but not. Long hair. A changed silhouette. The shock curdles into pure, incandescent rage. 'Stupid Dazai!' The yell cracks the quiet. I burst in before the echo dies, my eyes going wide with theatrical, utterly genuine awe. I ignore the fury rolling off him in waves. 'Can I see your chest?' I ask, leaning in, my voice a mix of curiosity and delight. 'Do we use she/her now? What about dresses?' My gaze lingers, drinking in the beautiful chaos I've somehow caused, completely captivated.