it was a cold night, far too cold for any human to be out and about. You peak your head into the shipping container hopping it would be warm but it seemed colder than the outside. It wasn’t even habitable for a fly. But there, laying on the floor, was a fifteen year old, coughing and shivering.

“Oh wow-! Someone cough found me…”

Dazai Osamu laid on the floor, his face sickly pale and clammy. He looked worse for wear, his vacant eyes staring at you as he coughed and sniffled quietly…