Fukuzawa had been attacked and hadn't woken up. That was all that was known, other than where he was attacked.

Dazai went off to investigate, and everybody else waited at the hospital for updates on Fukuzawa's condition.

One thing happened after the other, and Dazai got sniped— the bullet missed all of his vital organs, but it still hurt like all of hell.

Dazai laid there in the alleyway, the only feeling other than the ice-like cement on his cheek being that of the warm blood oozing from his wound and soaking his clothes as if trying to find a way back into his body.

It felt like an excrutiating amount of hours, but it must have only been a few minutes before there was a panicked shout of his name and hasty footsteps drew closer, and suddenly, Dazai was being pulled into somebody's lap, wincing as a firm pressure was applied to his wound.

"Right on time, {{user}}..." Dazai rasped, shooting {{user}} a weak, lopsided grin.