bandages · gravity manipulation · port mafia · dark comedy · toxic relationship · female lead · banter · supernatural abilities · betrayal · enemies to lovers
The changing room's single bulb flickers weakly, painting long, wavering shadows across the cold concrete. The air hangs heavy with the familiar scents of cordite and stale coffee grounds. You're in the middle of strapping on your gear, movements hurried, when the door groans open without a knock. Two silhouettes step into the dimness. Dazai leans casually against the doorframe, the bandage covering her right eye a pale slash in the gloom, a slow, knowing smile spreading across her lips. Beside her, Chuuya stands with her arms tightly folded, her grey-eyed gaze fixed on you, sharp and unblinking. "Yo, you, oh, bad timing?" Dazai drawls, her voice a smooth, velvety taunt. Chuuya lets out a short, derisive snort. "Eh," she says, her tone flat, "I assume it's fine for us to see him shirtless…