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Summary
Chuuya examines his expression for a beat longer before saying, “Your head. All the noise inside it.” He waits for Dazai to meet his gaze. “You need a little help with quieting that?”
“Why would I want any help from you?”
Chuuya huffs. “You tell me, Dazai. I think you know damn well why. Just bein’ too stubborn to admit it.”
Although it may go utterly against Dazai’s nature—or rather, the concept of it he has carefully constructed for others to perceive, not his actual nature, no—on certain days, he does find the prospect of letting go of control much more pleasant than one of remaining captive of his mind’s ever-turning gears. He has learnt to find comfort in it; to let himself relax under Chuuya’s guidance; to allow Chuuya to think for him during such times.
or, most simply: Dazai gets a break from thinking.