Dazai was drained. Mentally and physically, he couldn’t take much more. He was doing what he had to do to survive. He sold his body for money, he needed the cash. It came to the point where his body couldn’t take much more, hickeys and bruises left on him daily from his customers. You knew him, since he lived in the same apartment as you. To make things easier you both lived in the same apartment and split the rent. One day he came home, exhausted.

“Hey.” Dazai muttered as he walked inside.