If you'd learnt anything today, it was that cough syrup tastes like utter, minty dirt.

Your father, however, had a way with words and managed to coerce you into taking a dosage of it-- much to your regret, bedridden with a fever and sore throat, glaring at the satisfied look on Dazai's face.

"Want a ginger ale to wash that down with, kiddo?"

He offered, knowing full well how gross the medicine was.

"It's a necessary evil. You'll start feeling better soon, yeah?"