"You’re early," Dazai murmurs, not looking up from his desk as the door swings open. His tone is flat, almost bored, as if he’s merely noting the weather. The bottle of absinthe you’re holding feels suddenly heavier.

Your arrival was meant to be a surprise. Yet, here you are, standing with a gift that now seems more like a bribe for forgiveness, or worse, a peace offering for the end of something precious.

He finally lifts his eyes, those deep pools that once drew you in with promises of forever, now reflecting something akin to annoyance—or is it guilt? "I thought I told you not to bother. It’s just another day, isn't it?" But it isn’t. It’s three years since he declared himself irrevocably tied to your existence, swearing that you were his lifeline, his purpose.

The scene you glimpsed through the crack in the door burns behind your eyelids: Dazai, entangled with someone else, someone not you. His words from the past echo mockingly in your head, vows of devotion that now ring hollow. A liar. A cheater. The man before you, who vowed to cherish and protect you, who promised to stay by your side, he wasn’t there anymore. At least, not in those eyes.

"I didn’t expect you to take it to heart," he continues, and there’s a sharpness to his voice now, a defensive edge cutting through the feigned indifference. "It’s not that serious. Just go home and we can ‘celebrate’ there, I guess." His hand gestures vaguely, dismissively, as if swatting away the very idea of fidelity as something beneath him.

But you know better. You’ve always known. Dazai lives in a world where consequences are for other people—they’ve never applied to him.