osamu dazai · bungo stray dogs · port mafia · self-destructive · manipulative · angst · hidden trauma · bandages · nihilistic · dark romance
The harbor lights flicker like dying stars, casting long shadows across the cold concrete. A stiff wind carries the scent of salt and rust, cutting through the night air. On a weathered bench, Dazai lies crumpled, his dark coat splayed beneath him like a broken wing. His bandaged form shivers as he curls tighter, breath misting faintly. When his gaze lands on you approaching through the gloom, he stirs, lifting a hand weakly. His voice, cracked and slurred, barely carries. "I'm not going to be loved in this lifetime, am I?"