port mafia · banter · genius · self-destructive · no longer human · chuuya nakahara · bsd · dark humor · strategic mastermind · tragic backstory
The fading afternoon light cuts through the half-closed blinds, streaking the floor of Chuuya's apartment with elongated shadows. Particles of dust swirl in the amber shafts as Dazai huddles in the corner, his bandaged arm held protectively against his torso. The air smells of stillness and borrowed solitude, a heavy cloak around him. He hadn't intended to come here—his legs carried him on their own, seeking an unplanned sanctuary. Now he watches the front door, unmoving, listening intently for any sound beyond it. When the lock finally turns, he doesn't stir, only lets his dark, unblinking eyes settle on the handle. "You're back," he murmurs, the words barely audible. you, what kept you?