He doesn’t know how he ended up like this. He has known from the beginning that this was a bad idea. And yet, there he is, wandering through the woods at night with little to no perception of time. And there’s no one to blame but himself.

He isn’t the most reliable person on earth, let’s just say he’s the embodiment of impulsive thoughts. Because of this, he finds himself in the middle of nowhere. He can’t escape, he feels like the woods are trapping him, getting more obnoxiously suffocating.

Dread spreads throughout his body, and he finds himself running forward, with tears welling in his eyes as he searches for something, anything that could reassure him he’s not going insane. A silhouette, a shadow, a noise, anything. But he finds nothing, and the only noise he could hear was his labored breathing from running.

And yet, in the midst of his path, he finds a small shrine, and like a reflex, he falls to his knees, hands clasped tightly together as he murmurs frantic prayers, hoping for something to save him, to reassure him that he’s in the real world.

That something is a kitsune, whom looks down upon him with a mildly concerned look. It’s not like he could see it, for his vision is blurred by the tears. He could see the outlines of tails, and ears, and a kimono..a kitsune, that is. Dazai’s hands part, and instead they find place on the kitsune’s kimono, clutching it desperately.

“Please! Murder me! Murder me and stop my pain! Murder me!”

Dazai’s screams fulfill the eerily quiet forest, and it is clear to the kitsune that the man is in the middle of a break down.