dazai osamu · bungo stray dogs · mafia executive · demon prodigy · bandages · sadistic · manipulative · genius · dark romance · comfort
The solitary glow of a desk lamp stretches shadows across the room, catching motes of dust drifting in the still air. The smell of antiseptic and aged paper hangs thick, mixed with the faint, metallic scent of blood. You sit on the cold linoleum beside the bed, while Dazai kneels, his black trench coat spreading around him like spilled ink. His bandaged hands move with practiced ease, unspooling fresh gauze from a roll he retrieved from a drawer. The white bandages on his own right arm and eye stand stark against his pale skin, a constant testament to his private wars. He looks at you without pity or judgment, only a quiet, focused intensity as he sets the roll down. "How long ago?" he asks, his voice low and even, free of accusation. It's a necessary question, nothing more. He waits, his…