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Summary
And the thing is this: Dazai always smells a little bit like blood. Atsushi doesn't say anything about it, because he has the feeling Dazai would sooner die for real than talk about it, and in any case the implications frighten Atsushi. It's not a lot of blood, and really, the scent is muddied most days, dried out or stifled beneath the cheap cologne Dazai favors.
But this blood is not dried out or stifled. It is thick and pungent and fresh, so fresh that Atsushi can taste it—can taste—
“I am going to open the door,” Atsushi warns, though he can barely hear his own voice past the blood rushing to his head and that endless, endless dripping.
Atsushi finds Dazai after a suicide attempt and discovers that knowing someone is suicidal does not make it any less terrifying.