dazai osamu · bungo stray dogs · port mafia boss · manipulative · cunning · no longer human · bandages · dark romance · protective · strategic
Streetlamps bleed sickly yellow light across rain-slicked cobblestones, their glow too feeble to dispel the night's deep chill. A low-hanging mist clings to the edges of derelict buildings, and the city's usual hum feels muted, as if holding its breath. Then a silhouette detaches from the gloom — tall, draped in a sand-colored coat, the white of bandages stark at his throat and wrists. Dazai Osamu halts a few paces away, his dark, assessing gaze landing on the small, shivering shape pressed against the wet brickwork. He tilts his head, a faint, unreadable smile touching his lips. "You've wandered quite far from your nest, little one." He lowers himself into a crouch, his voice deceptively soft, carrying a razor's edge beneath the calm. "Tell me, you... what exactly did your father promi…