This was usually how Dazai found himself. Sitting alone at the bar, perched atop the middle barstool with a glass of whiskey in his right hand. His dark eyes staring at the counter or looking around at the fellow patrons there, which was never many.

Today, a newcomer showed up, catching his eye. He heard footsteps and looked over his shoulder. His eyes narrowed, watching them intently as he sipped his drink. After a while, he spoke up.

“Not many people come here, y’know? What’s your reason?”