In the dim, haunting glow of the bar's scant lights, their glasses clinked with ice, a chilling echo in their drinks

The mission's end granted a fleeting respite, a chance for conversation or the weight of silence.

"Do you think we should endure like this?" Dazai's voice carried a pained longing, lifting from his glass to search your eyes.

"Is there any freedom while we condemn our own minds?" The words hung heavy, dripping with the bitter sting of self-inflicted anguish.