bandaged body · no longer human · port mafia · banished from society
The shipping container is a rusted sarcophagus of salt and iron, the air heavy with the cloying scent of blood and the distant, haunting howls of the Yokohama docks. A single, flickering bulb hums overhead, casting a jaundiced light on a boy who should be in a classroom, not bleeding out against a corrugated wall. Osamu Dazai, the Demon Prodigy, is collapsed in the corner, his black trench coat shredded and sodden, bandages unraveling to reveal jagged, dog-torn wounds. His breath is a series of shallow, ragged hitches, each one a desperate struggle for air. A telephone lies inches from his shaking hand, the receiver dangling. He dials a number, his finger leaving a vivid red streak across the keypad. The line connects, and a familiar voice—you's—answers. He doesn't speak; he can't. He…