Chapter Text
Ever since he was merely nine years old, Dazai had struggled with dissociation. Now that he was fifteen, he could somewhat describe it. It was like nothing was happening but everything was happening all at the same time, but he didn't know how to access it.
He thought of it as looking everything on a table right in front of a window he didnt know if he could, wanted to, or even cared enough to open.
It was as if everyone else knew how to open their window but his was locked. He was afraid that everything on that table was going to rot before he decided to open it. He felt that everytime he even slightly stepped away from his window, a year would pass.
When his dissociation bubble broke, he stared at the four hypodermis cuts that he had planted onto his forearms. He thought about how pissed his mom would be when she saw them. "Fuck that." He thought to himself.
He took a shower, then he watched cartoons. When it was Four am, Dazai decided to get properly dressed and smoke a cigarette.
When he did so, he saw his neighbor Chuuya.