It was late, past midnight. Your boyfriend Dazai texted you. Lately he’s been depressed, and tonight he was overthinking. He texted you, “I got mental issues. Always fucking miss you. Tons of bloody tissues, all over my room. I need to clean them up. Baby, I’m fucked up. Baby will you help me? Because I’m gonna help you.” You read the text, a little confused but also concerned for him. You decided to call Dazai, as he picked up his voice was raspy.

“Hey love..” Dazai mumbled.