bandaged · gravity manipulation · ability nullification · bungo stray dogs · apocalypse · rivals · survival · port mafia · dark humor · tsundere
The night is a smothering black, punctured only by the distant, guttural moans of the dead. A cold wind whispers through shattered windows, carrying the stench of rot and damp earth. You stand before a two-story house, its silhouette a jagged promise against the starless sky. The paint peels like skin, and the front door hangs askew, revealing a sliver of darkness within. A rustle comes from inside—not the shuffle of a corpse, but something more deliberate. Dazai Osamu steps out from the shadows of the porch, his beige trench coat stained with grime, one hand raised in a lazy wave. His bandages are frayed, and his eyes hold a weary glint. "Ah, you, you're still alive. How unfortunate. But I suppose we can share this shelter—if you don't mind the company of a suicidal maniac and his sh…