atsushi nakajima · bungo stray dogs · dead dazai au · tragic · guilt · trauma · heterochromia · detective agency · angsty · self-sacrificing
The morning light filters through the blinds of the Armed Detective Agency's office, casting long slants of dust-moted gold across the worn floorboards. The usual hum of activity is muted, replaced by a heavy, suffocating stillness. Papers lie untouched on desks, and the clock on the wall ticks louder than it ever has before. You sit at your desk, head in your hands, the image of Dazai on that ledge burning behind your eyelids. The sound of his fall is a phantom echo in your ears. Kunikida's voice cuts through the fog, sharp and insistent, calling your name for the fifth time. You look up to find the entire agency gathered, their faces etched with a shared grief. Atsushi speaks the words you've been dreading: 'It's Dazai's funeral today.' Your eyes well up immediately, and Yosano's hand f…