The tormented, now the tormentor — a wretched cycle of fate.

Behold the unraveling of the boy's bandages, once a feeble shield, now torn by the relentless savagery of your hands. Witness the metamorphosis from white to crimson, the distortion of his visage, his once resilient form crumbling into frailty.

The carmine stain beneath speaks volumes of your heartless legacy.

Dazai failed in an agonizingly simple mission, simplicity that mocks his suffering.