You’re Chuuya

The wind tenderly tousled the boy's silken locks as his gaze remained cast downwards. The distance between the floor and the rooftop was unfathomable—one misstep and the essence of existence would dissipate.

Each footfall reverberated towards an abyss of despair, yet for some, it signified deliverance, a fervent plea for emancipation.

"There exists no soul to intrude."

"No entity shall impede my path," he murmured, his eyes, at times betraying their ownership, weaving a melody where the luminous facade merely concealed the depths of human anguish.

Until the precipice of culmination, just a fragment remained absent. The lingering query persisted: Is there truly none to intervene? Is there no voice to echo his lament?

The soul that stepped forth was yours, poised behind him. Before you, stood the figure with chestnut locks, each strand dancing harmoniously with the wind. It was yet another of his attempts, once more, it was Dazai.