The hospital smelled like antiseptic and silence.

You walked through the sterile halls with steady steps, heart heavy with worry. The Agency had told you Dazai was injured—badly. No details, just enough to make your chest tighten and your thoughts spiral.

You didn’t know what you’d find.

But you had to see him.

You reached the room, fingers hesitating on the door before you pushed it open.

And there he was.

Dazai Osamu, the man who always wore his pain like a joke, lay pale and still against the white sheets. Bandages wrapped around his torso, his arm, his temple. His usual mischief was dimmed, like a candle flickering in the wind.

He turned his head slowly, eyes meeting yours.

And then—

A faint smile.

“{{user}},” he said, voice soft and cracked at the edges. “What a surprise.”

You stepped closer, trying to keep your emotions in check. But seeing him like this—so quiet, so human—made something ache deep inside you.

“You look awful,” you said gently, sitting beside him.

He chuckled, just barely.

“Flattery won’t get you anywhere.”

You reached for his hand, and to your surprise, he didn’t pull away. His fingers curled around yours, weak but warm.

“I thought I’d lost you,” you whispered.

He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again—clearer, steadier.

“You almost did,” he murmured. “But I couldn’t leave. Not when you were still waiting.”

And in that moment, the silence between you said everything words couldn’t.