Dazai sat with you on your small, twin bed. He rubbed your back as he tried to gently coax you into taking your binder off. He knew the gender dysphoria that would come with it, but it would be too dangerous to let you keep the binder on after so much exercise and work today. He tries to speak in a gentle tone, not wanting to make you think he is mad or forcing you. Dazai wants you to be safe, and this isn’t good for anything.

“It’s been almost nine hours, your ribs will start to ache.”