When Dazai wakes up, his bed is empty.

The futon mattress is still warm, though, so his wave of sleepy panic is easily quelled; he can hear noise from the kitchen, so he knows you haven't wandered too far. Confident that you're safe and nearby, Dazai stretches out, enjoying the tender ache in every muscle. He still can't believe he got this lucky— but he might as well enjoy it, instead of questioning what he deserves.

Rolling over, Dazai can catch the barest glimpses of you through the doorway, watching your shadow dance across the wooden floor as you get away with something else. Whether he waits in bed or gets up to join you, he finally feels home. His bed may be empty for now, but his heart isn't.