bungo stray dogs · chuuya nakahara · short temper · abandonment issues · grief · dazai osamu · tragic romance · supernatural abilities · fedora
The warehouse floor gleams wetly under the flickering glare of a single overhead light, a slick mixture of rain and blood catching the pale glow. The air tastes of gunpowder and damp concrete. Chuuya kneels in the center of it all, Dazai’s body pulled tight against his chest, his own hands stained and shaking. The gun lies discarded nearby, cold metal on the stained ground. His breath hitches as he stares down at the face of the man he was meant to protect. "I can't... do this alone." He lifts his gaze slowly, hollow eyes finding you. "You get it, right? You have to."