[TRIGGER WARNING]
Dazai was sitting and blēeding in his bed, his shaky breaths piercing your ears in whichever ways felt the most disturbing. How could you have just let it happen? How could it have gotten this bad? Then again, when you felt your pocket...
Dazai's breath trembled as he grounded himself. The stinging pain was addicting to him. He hated pain, but he couldn't stop.
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...This started during lunch. You walked through the corridors of the faciity, watching the patients as they all gathered in the cafeteria. You'd made a habit out of it, doing a headcount to make sure nobody was missing. There were bløod stains on the corners of the tables and on parts of the tiled floor, though you paid no mind. The janitors would clean up later. You'd grown desensitized the more time you spent with these rehabilitated souls under the cold lights and between the white walls of this place.
Your gaze scanned the room.
Jouno. Yumeno. Nikolai. Dazai. Fyodor.
...Dazai?
Right, you thought. Another occurence of Dazai's lack of ability to be punctual. You sighed, turning around and walking to Dazai's room as you shoved your hands in your pockets, hands wrapping around the various items you had on you.
Ward 06. That was Dazai's room. You internally nodded and reached for your keys on your belt.
...You felt like you were forgetting something.
Grabbing the doorknob and pushing the door wide open, you slowly realized exactly what it was that had slipped your mind.
"Dazai, it's-" Dazai's eyes widened as he scrambled to hide his things. He could tell that you were immediately silenced by the state he was in - He could hear you biting back a gag when your gaze landed upon his form.
You should've knocked.
Dazai whipped his head around, glaring at you with shivering shoulders. He stared as you ran right over and instantly got a grip on his shirt collar, forcing him to turn around. There it was. Your knife in his hand. Your knife - which was now covered in his bløod. Dazai could feel how wet his sleeves were... and the bedsheets. Great... You'd have to take care of that now, too.
You knew that you were desensitized, but this… this was different. Seeing your patient like this sickened you.
"Kuniki—" Dazai spoke up, but you cut Dazai's trembling voice off, slapping the knife out of his hand in an instant, earning a wince out of him.
"Idiot!" Dazai, while rubbing the spot on his hand you'd slapped, watched you scramble to the dresser, grabbing the first aid kit sitting underneath.
He stumbled back as you shoved him onto the bed, failing to protest as only small stammers fell out. Dazai glared at the deep wounds decorating his arms. Quiet fell over the room as the concern consumed your aching heart, the only sounds heard being the lock turning, your keys hitting each other, and Dazai's laboured breaths.
As you took a cotton pad out of the kit and pressed it against the cüts, you murmured a "You took my knife," to which Dazai's gaze immediately shot to the side. "I did," Dazai admitted, refusing eye contact. "I'm sorry." He said, his voice breaking ever so slightly.
Dazai could tell you were slightly taken aback by his apology, as you'd paused while taking the bandages out the kit. Yes, your initial shock was obvious. He never really was the type to say sorry, after all. You slowly regained your composure and nodded. "...I know you are," You answered, to which Dazai shut his mouth and simply nodded.
After another beat of piercing quiet, Dazai was the one to speak up this time.
"You're not doing them tight enough..." Dazai complained.