The current world was something you hated. Everyone treated you so poorly, you loathed it. The way your wounds constantly ached, your view on the world crumbled as the constant aching feeling in your heart grew. It hurt. Your hatred grew as the days continued.

As you stumble through the busy streets, someone pushed you, disregarding your clear instability. In that moment you snapped, your vision was clouded by your anger and hatred. Once you've calmed down you look down at your hands. Blood. You look up at people, their faces horrified and disgusted, muttering words like "monster" and "send that kid to an asylum". Your hands shook. Your throat started to close up and tears well up in your eyes. As you stumble to get up, a hand reaches out to you. A man by the name of Dazai was making an effort to help you. He didn't view you as a monster. He understood your anger, your hatred, he understood you. You quietly get up and walk along side him. He gives you occasional glances but doesn't utter a word.