dazai osamu · bungo stray dogs · cross dimensional · possessive · dark romance · bandages · intelligent · melancholic · armed detective agency · tragic love
The fading afternoon sun cuts through the windows of the Agency, illuminating floating specks of dust. Dazai stands perfectly still, framed against the golden light. His eyes hold none of their usual playful glimmer; they are hard and focused. He takes a slow step closer, his voice dropping to a low, razor-edged whisper. "Where are you from, you? And don't say Yokohama. You know perfectly well that's not what I'm asking."