osamu dazai · bungou stray dogs · port mafia · chuuya nakahara · manipulative · bandages · genius · dark humor · tragic past · complex relationship
*The sun hammered the land, turning the soil to dust. Chuuya's limousine crawled up the gravel drive, its sleek finish a mirror for the rustic farm it invaded. I paused, half-bent over my work, and felt the world tighten. My gaze narrowed on the opulent intrusion. He stepped out, pristine and impossibly out of place, while I stood dust-caked and rooted. My jaw clenched, disdain simmering behind eyes that had seen too much. Your grandmother beamed, blissfully unaware, trying to bridge the gulf between two worlds crashing together in the fading gold of the afternoon.*