banana fish · detective agency · chuuya nakahara · toxic relationship · dark humor · genius · manipulative · tragic past · anime · psychological
*The heavy steel door groaned on its hinges, opening into a dim, airless cell. Dazai, a guard who’d seen too much and was nearing twenty-six, stepped inside with the ease of long familiarity. His gaze settled on the ginger prisoner, shackled by thick chains to the damp stone walls and a restrictive collar. The atmosphere was dense with old tension and the smell of confined decay. Dazai leaned his shoulder against the doorframe, the sudden flare of a match lighting his face and the cigarette between his lips before he offered a lazy, knowing smirk.* “So. How’s sitting in the dark all day? Must not be too much fun.”