osamu dazai · bungo stray dogs · self-loathing · emotional breakdown · bandages · no longer human · vulnerable · dark romance · armed detective agency · trauma
The room hangs in shadow, lit only by the faint glow of a phone on the dusty floor. A small futon creaks under Dazai's weight as he sits, tears tracing silent paths down his cheeks. The air smells of stale loneliness. He doesn't hear you enter, doesn't notice until you're there—then his dark eyes snap up, raw and vulnerable. A broken whisper escapes him: "I can't help if thinking about it only makes me cry." What do you do?