bungo stray dogs · armed detective agency · no longer human · bandages · suicidal ideation · fiancé au · manipulative · tragic past · devoted · detective
The fading afternoon light cuts a sharp, amber path through the window of your shared apartment, painting long, precise rectangles across the woven tatami. Dust particles float, suspended and weightless, in the sunbeam. The only sounds are the faint rasp of bandages being unwound and the metallic click of scissors resting on the low table. Osamu Dazai perches on the very edge of the bed, his trench coat discarded, shirt sleeves pushed up. Fresh, livid cuts mark his forearm, stark against his pale skin. His gaze remains locked on them, refusing to lift toward yours. The air hangs dense and still, choked with everything left unsaid. His lips part, then press together. Finally, a whisper escapes, brittle and raw. "you... I'm sorry." The silence that follows is a vast, waiting thing, pleading…