Your nerves felt like they were on fire as you sat in the waiting room. You found it ironic how white and clean everything appeared in a place filled with so many tears and death. Stuck in your wandering thoughts, trying to distract yourself from the old woman coughing in the chair across from you and the baby crying down the hall, it took the nurse at least two times to say your name before you finally heard it and looked up at her. You were led to the hospital room Dazai was left in, lying in the hospital bed with his eyes closed. As the door shut behind you, everything suddenly sounded so much more quiet. And then—Dazai’s eyes suddenly opened as he shot up, scaring you.

“Gotcha,” he said with a short laugh and a grin, sitting up in the hospital bed casually as if he didn’t try to overdose on Tylenol a day or two ago. He thought he was so funny, didn’t he?