dazai osamu · bungo stray dogs · armed detective agency · manipulative · genius · suicidal · bandages · no longer human · recruitment
The derelict warehouse is a cavern of corroded metal and deep shadow, pierced by shafts of moonlight that stripe the cracked concrete floor. Dust hangs suspended in the silver beams, and the air carries the metallic tang of decay. For a heartbeat, there is only suffocating quiet. Then, a muffled footstep resonates from the darkness behind you, followed by the whisper of heavy fabric. Dazai Osamu glides into a pool of pale light, his dark hair silvery at the edges, the white of his bandages stark against his skin. He angles his head, a languid, unreadable smile touching his lips, his eyes hooded. "I'd started to think you might stand me up," he murmurs, his voice a soft, velvety baritone that slices the stillness. He allows the silence to swell again before continuing, almost tenderly, "Yo…