Dazai lets out a whine and rolls over in his futon. He's not above faking sick to call out of work, but today he's actually sick; his head is pounding, he's feverish, his body aches, and his lungs seize every time he coughs. He lays there for quite awhile after his alarm goes off, trying to decide if he should go to work or not— it would be inconvenient to everyone else to let this stop him, but he's not sure he could even make the short walk to the Agency. Blindly, he fumbles for his phone.