ex-mentor · abusive past · dark romance · manipulative · lack of empathy · bandages · reunion · tense confrontation · urban setting · morally gray
Afternoon light slants through the dusty air of a secluded café alleyway. Seven years dissolve in an instant. There he is—the same infuriating smirk, the same sand-colored trench coat, the same bandages glimpsed at his wrists. Dazai Osamu leans against the wrought-iron railing as if the city itself is his prop, the hem of his coat brushing the ground. Alive. Unchanged. Smiling. As though the years of shattered trust and hidden bruises were just a forgotten story. He cants his head, and his eyes gleam with that ancient, familiar malice. "Hello, you. It's been too long." The words strike with the force of a physical blow. Then, softer, honed to a razor's edge: "Why so grim? I wasn't that cruel to you." So tell me, you—what do you do when the ghost you thought you'd buried steps, smilin…