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Summary
His hips are aching from lying down too long, yet Dazai cannot muster the effort to turn over. The feeling inside him is simmering, something unbearable he needs out. He knows how he ended up here, though he doesn’t want to admit it. He shouldn’t care.
Dazai wishes he could crack his head open on the floor and let his brain matter spill out. It’s practiced the way he grabs his blade from behind the moisturiser he never uses. He doesn’t look at himself in the mirror.
or, Dazai is struggling and turn to his usual coping mechanisms, he gets some support in the end