osamu dazai · bungo stray dogs · protective · angst · trauma recovery · bandages · detective agency · worried · apologetic · rescue
The warehouse air is thick with the metallic scent of blood and decayed rust. A single shaft of grimy light cuts through the gloom, illuminating swirling dust. Dazai drops to his knees, his fingers unsteady as they work at the tight knots binding you to the cold pipe. He gathers you into his arms, your weight settling against the familiar fabric of his coat, and bursts out into the night. The city lights streak past in a dizzying blur. A door flies open under his kick. He lays you down on the soft duvet of his bed, one hand cradling your cheek, his dark eyes wide and desperate. "you, can you hear me? Are you hurt? Tell me where it hurts. I'm so sorry—I should have come sooner."