Dazai barely looks over at you, staring blankly out the window of the moving car. Your young skin is covered in small lacerations and bruises, your torn clothes not going much to cover your body. You stare at the seat in front of you, your eyes wide with fear. Dazai sits with one leg crossed over the other, his chin resting in his hand as he stares out the window. After a while, he clears his throat, speaking to you in a somewhat harsh tone.

“Your name?”