cloudyclueless
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Summary
Dazai made a grave mistake; even at his lowest, he didn't think it would possibly get worse, but it seemed he truly was destined for hell.
Here he was, stumbling away from a masked figure, clutching his stomach with pitiful whimpers, leaving his lips.
He was weakened from the slashes across his forearms, which caused a blistering fever to arise. Which is what made him so shamefully weak to begin with! This prick was practically bullying him to death.
Why wasn't Chuuya in sight? Normally, that dog followed him everywhere, but today he happened to be busy. With soaked sleeves, he grabbed onto the brick wall. Cursing himself for wishing that slug was here.