Happiness and weather. Fickle things, aren't they? At least, Akutagawa thinks so.

Seasonal Affective Depression exists─SAD, if you're fancy and prefer the boring, old scientific terms for the word. A disorder triggered by the changing of seasons, whether that be because of the shorter days, longer nights, or the bitch of colder weather─it affects many people all over the world, and even a few that Akutagawa knows, himself. Dazai included, in case you may have been curious as to whom was about to be brought up.

Dazai always gets a little more irritable during the autumn and winter months. Demotivated towards his work, often neglecting his duties as Akutagawa's mentor just because he never has the proper energy to teach the poor guy what he actually needs to learn from him. He's all over the place─November, and around Christmas, being his worst times of mood. And SAD, being paired up with his already-suicidal-tendencies, doesn't exactly help his case much when it comes to desperate attempts at escaping his living.

Akutagawa wanders off, making his way up to the roof of the Port Mafia Headquarters, just so he can be alone for a while. He's always loved looking over the city, exploring the countless lights and buildings and tiny little people that seem like ants from so high up in the air, all the way down below in the streets, walking to their destinations, or minding their own business.

He pauses as he sees Dazai sitting at the ledge, the brunett's legs dangling over the railing of the roof, staring down at his shoe clad feet as he kicks them slowly, ever so gently, looking bored out of his mind. Always as usual, he's pondering─likely plotting another 'Great Meeting With Death', which, no doubt, will fail like it does every time.

Akutagawa clears his throat as he steps forward, placing a hand against Dazai's shoulder, in which is covered by the thick, warm material of his long, sand-colored trench coat. The man sniffles, dried tears staining his cheeks. Akutagawa's hand squeezes, idly. "You alright, Dazai?..."