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Dazai was sitting up on the counter in Mori's clinic, hunched over holding his stomach. He was just staring down at his shoes, his feet not touching the floor. Mori stood in front of him, his coat moving ever so slightly still as Dazai stared blankly down. The boy would do anything to not be in this situation but of course, here he was anyway.
His vision was starting to swim, still blurring at the edges when he tried to blink it away. Whether it was from the pain, drugs, or both he couldn't tell, probably both. This hurt a lot more than he'd accounted for, and he was regretting his actions earlier. It was a stupid impulsive idea that was bound to take way too long. Which it did, which gave the doctor time to find and fix him so he'd be subjected to living another day.
"You really shouldn't do these things"
Mori's voice wasn't sharp but it was cold, uncaring as ever. He didn't say not to hurt himself, never told him it would be alright and he wouldn't feel bad forever. The man would keep him alive sure, but he never afforded Dazai any comfort or kind words. No, it was always less personal than that, agonizingly apathetic.
The teenager didn't even dignify that with a response, resolutely staring at the ground. Nothing Mori said mattered to him, or at least he was pretending it didn't. Why did he feel guilty? He didn't even like the doctor so why did a part of him feel bad for being like this? He knew why he felt guilty for acting like this at home, maybe old habits just liked to linger. Whatever it was he surely didn't appreciate it.
He didn't understand why he couldn't just die, why did this man have to rescue him when he was bleeding out in an alley on his own terms to begin with? Why wouldn't Mori just let him go? Dazai had backed him up as a witness, surely it would be more convenient to allow him to kill himself now to erase any chance of betrayal. But no, every time he tried to off himself he somehow failed and mori patched him up all over again.
"Well? What exactly was it that you took?"
"just what you found by me"
Dazai didn't even protest at this point, answering without complaint. He sounded absolutely miserable tho, how many times had he failed to die now? He couldn't keep count, but whatever the number was it was too high. Why couldn't he die already? There was nothing he wanted out of life except for a release from it. He hadn't wanted anything from life for a very, very long time.
"Take this, go throw up in the bathroom, it'll take a while to stop hurting but you haven't done any permanent damage to yourself"
Great, he was being made to vomit like a dog that ate chocolate. For a minute he glared up at Mori, considering just refusing to take it altogether. Yes it could be forced into him but it would be a lot more irritating for the doctor to do.
"It'll only hurt worse if you don't get it out, and you'll be alive to suffer for a long time so I suggest you do as i say"
It was like Mori knew what he was thinking, which, fair enough, he probably did seeing as the teens thoughts did show plainly on his face right now after all. Dazai didn't have the energy to hide his intentions like he might in some other situation. And he didn't particularly feel like suffering for an extended amount of time so he begrudgingly obeyed and took the medicine offered to him.
Dazai never liked throwing up, not that anyone did, but he specifically hated it for several reasons. There was a distinct loss of control over your own body, you couldn't stop if you wanted to and he loathed not being in control. It made his eyes water and he hated crying too, at least around other people that was. Of course it also felt awful, particularly when his midsection already hurt severely. It was all he could do to stop himself from actually breaking down sobbing.
Once he'd stopped throwing up and managed to catch his breath as well he rinsed out his mouth and walked back out to where Mori was waiting for him. He still hurt, and felt so helpless he wanted to cry but he hid it as best he could as he glared stubbornly at the man who insisted on keeping him alive.
"So can I leave now then?" Dazai demanded to know, considerably less demanding and authoritative than he could usually manage considering he looked so sickly right now.
"when Hirostu comes to get you yes, you need to be supervised to make sure you don't do anything else tonight."
That was fine by Dazai, Hirostu was alright, being left with him wasn't a bad thing. It was a far better alternative to being kept in Moris clinic. Hirostu wasn't the most comforting person ever, but that was just as well, because he didn't treat Dazai like a child to be coddled. All in all, staying with Hirostu was one of the best things Dazai could get these days.
It didn't take too long for Hirostu to come and take him to a spare room to better keep an eye on him. More comfortable clothes had been left out on the bed for him and Dazai changed into them, secretly grateful for something softer to sleep in. After he got changed he crawled into bed and curled around a pillow. As tough as he pretended to be sometimes, and as apathetic as he beat himself up for being, he was still comforted by something soft to hold when he went to sleep.
Hirostu didn't say anything about how he shook, silently crying into his pillow until he fell asleep. It wouldn't have done any help if he had. No, the man just sighed softly and read a book, watching over this suicidal boy that had somehow became partly his responsibility. He didn't mind, not really, but he did worry about Dazai, someone had to worry for the poor kid after all.