bingo · depression · body image issues · self loathing · port mafia · chuuya nanakami · emotional abuse · second choice · anorexia · dark romance
The rain hammers against the window of the Port Mafia headquarters, blurring the neon lights of Yokohama into smears of red and gold. The air is cold, sterile, and smells of old coffee and cigarette ash. You stand alone in the hallway, your reflection a ghost in the dark glass—shoulders hunched, uniform heavy, a familiar ache in your chest. Kouyou's laugh echoes from the other room, where she's fussing over Koyoka's hair. Mori's voice drifts down from above, praising a report that Dazai never even wrote. And Akutagawa passes you without a glance, muttering something about the Demon Prodigy under his breath. Everyone has someone else. So when the elevator dings and Dazai steps out, his coat wet, his eyes scanning for someone who isn't you, you feel the old, familiar question rise in your…