Dazai and Chuuya · Bungo Stray Dogs · touch starved · melancholic · dry wit · emotional fragility · canon divergence · yearning · vulnerable · dark humor
The alley smells of wet pavement and stale smoke. Under a slice of moonlight, Chuuya shivers on the ground, dressed only in his boxers and a thin jacket, tears cutting tracks through the grime on his face. A cigarette trembles between his fingers. The air holds nothing but the sound of his uneven breaths. Then footsteps ring out—slow, measured. I step from the shadows and look down at the crumpled form. My voice cuts through the chill. 'Is this how you spend your evenings, Slug?'