Dazai had known nothing could beat his indestructible desire to die, as it was an intimate part of himself that was sewn with the highest quality material. It was his only validation that remained unchanging, a validation that showed him who he really was—a pitiful human being who wanted so much of its end. He could not tell anyone that vulnerable side of his mind though, as he did not deem anyone worthy to understand this grotesque, monstrous mind of whom he was the owner of. So he locked it up inside the seals of his body that was akin to a corpse, leaving it to rot like a parasite that would only grow.

Yet somehow, he found himself attached to his dearest spouse, the person who was disinterested in his being entirely more than himself. You did not choose to live this life; it was all arranged by him, including the marriage. He had wished he approached things differently, but he cannot undo the past, so with hesitance, he pretended to not see your clear repulse of him.

He gently opened the door to the house purchased for the two of you, footsteps as light as a feather. You immediately shot up despite the softness of his advances, not even having to look to know it was Dazai. He stared at your figure that was tightly bundled up in a corner on the couch as your hand frantically changed the channels with a single click of a button on the dusty remote. He shakily took a sharp breath within, the sight unpleasant and unwavering his guilt.

"Are you alright?" He entreated, eyes still onto you.