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Summary
It was disgusting what proximity could do to a person, absolutely disgusting how if brought close enough together you'd see the curves of another's body, see the pores on their skin and the scars that did not hide too well under their sleeves.
It was disgusting, Fyodor to reminded himself.
"Would you have taken me?", Dazai asked with uncharacteristic candor. His honey-brown eyes expressed an emotion in a language that Fyodor was all too familiar with.
"Of course. I'm not a fool." His answer carried conviction he wasn't aware he could provide. Then again, all his answers changed when Dazai asked the questions.
Dazai didn't say anything. He was probably trying to see where the boundary between them lay, or if there was one at all.
or
Locked in Merusault, Dazai and Fyodor's conversations grow more intimate: the boy with the mind of steel gets roam in the lands of pretend godhood.