Hi everyone! This is the last tough chapter and conveys vivid imagery of self harm so please read with caution again if you need to skip it just drop a comment and I'll summarise what happened! Lots of love <3

It gets easier from here I pinkie promise I'm done torturing you :')
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Dazai fiddled with his keys, trying to open the door through his blurry vision.

The door swung open and he fell in-

He needed his bandages-

He needed them or he would-

Pain shot from somwhere, he wasn't sure where, or why, he just knew he was in pain and he desperately wanted it to stop, maybe he could leave the bandages for the time being? Maybe he could save himself, even in a situation like this.

Fumbling, he took his shoes off and ran towards the bathroom, he opened the cabinet doors, and filtered through everything that was there, things fell off the shelves and into the sink or onto the floor, what he needed wasn't there.

Where could they be?

Without much of a pause or a thought to let himself think logically about it, he ran off to the cabinet that sat in the corner of his living room, he crouched, shaky hands reaching out and opening the wooden doors, fuck, he couldn't see what he was doing. Everytime his vision returned to normal after he blinked, they blurred again.

He hadn't known he was crying until he looked in the mirror later that night.

His hand brushed against the box he needed but due to the uncontrollable shaking he knocked another down.

At first Dazai didn't pay any attention to it, he looked at the box of tramadol and took a sheet of them out, as steady as he could, he pressed at least four out of the foil into his other hand, with how much he shook and cried, he managed to drop one in the process, onto the foil that had fallen onto the floor previously.

He wiped away his tears with the sleeve of his jumper, and then looked downwards, noticing the words that sat on the foil, as if the Tramadol had guided him too it.

It said Zopiclone.

A powerful drug to help with sleep, Dazai had been prescribed it as a teenager but after a few nights next to-

No, he didn't want to say the name.

The point of the story was that he stopped taking them and he hadn't touched them since then either. But he supposed if he did fall asleep and he had the Tramadol, the pain would stop, right? That seemed reasonable.

He took the foil of Zopiclone and took another four, it was only fair that he took four of each wasn't it?

And then his pain would go away and he could go to sleep, it was a perfect combination. He swallowed them all without any water but felt as though they'd been wedged in his throat, he got up, wiping his tears away as he did so and went to the couch where he'd left a spare bottle of water on the table. The water driped down his chin as he drank it but didn't bother to wipe it away.

He felt himself panic.

Why wasn't the pain going away?

Surely by now it was supposed take effect, it had been more than twenty minutes hadn't it?

As a matter of fact, it hadn't. It had only been two.

Dazai's mind swirled and he bit his his lip, he really needed his bandages.

The emotional pain wouldn't stop and he didn't want to continue crying over it, he didn't want to cry over something as stupid as this. As losing-

No, he had to do something to make it go away.

Dazai shook his head and rushed to the otherside of his home, towards his bathroom. He stepped on the pills that had fallen onto the floor and accidentally kicked a half open bottle. He looked up at his cabinet shelves; there weren't any bandages there.

What? Where did he put them?

Where they in his room? No, he clearly remembered sitting on the lid of the toilet when he wrapped them around his arms again, he and...

He'd had an argument.

The bottom cabinet...

That's where it was.

He crouched down and opened the cabinet doors, whacking himself in the head as he did so, the pain didn't register, he didn't feel anything. Dazai blinked in confusion, his frantic movements coming to a stop.

Were the pills working? Is that why he couldn't register anything?

He wasn't sure. He didn't feel sleepy, maybe the Tramadol was taking affect before the Zopiclone was.

Dismissing the thought, he went back to search for his bandages, finding an unopened box, smiling through the tears, he stood back up and leant against the sink, his hands were still shaking as he looked at his bare arms.

He didn't want to but he needed to, so bad, so, so bad.

Why did it have to be him? There were so many amazing people in his life and yet he was stuck.

Everyone he'd had a little bit of interest in, everyone he thought he could have genuine connection with just lead him back to the place where it all began.

Some people were short, some were ginger, some had bright blue eyes, some had brash and outspoken personalities, some had pale skin, some had freckles.

Everyone, who had the potential to lead him astray from the path he'd originally been treading since High School, just lead him back to where he'd began...

It wasn't fair. Had he not done enough?

A horrible sob clawed it's way out his throat and he placed his hands onto the sink, facing the bowl with his eyes, warm and wet cheeks shining from tears.

The rolls of bandages slipped from his hold and fell to the floor, some of them unfurling and crawling along the white tiled floor.

He needed to get back to the task he was originally planning on carrying out.

Once again, Dazai crouched down trying to pick up the bandages from the floor, his vision was so blurry that he wasnt very aware of where he was placing his hand.

And then he felt a weird tingle at the bottom of his palm and something wet run down the side of his arm.

He blinked profusely and the tears flushed away.

He'd cut his hand on a tile.

Oh.

It was that tile

The one that broke because of Chu-

No.

The tingle on his palm was... enticing? Slightly comforting, he could feel a slight bit of pain oozing from it but not enough that it was severely hurting him. His breath hitched as he glanced down, he didn't feel scared at the sight of blood near his arms, not this time. He felt liberated.

He couldn't.

No, he promised. He promised he wouldn't. Not again, not after he was seventeen.

He promised Chuuya.

Chuuya?

Chuuya.

No, why did it natter if he promised Chuuya?

He wasn't here anymore, he made so many promises, so, so many and yet he'd broken all of them and he didn't even feel bad.

Right now Chuuya could be prancing around with Shirase finally free from whatever semblance of normality Dazai could offer.

So why would he care about keeping his promise?

That had probably been the only thing keeping him from doing this again anyway. He didn't care about the consequences, he never had. Pain, blood, scars. None of that had ever mattered to him.

But it had mattered to Chuuya. So it then naturally mattered to Dazai. But it didn't matter to Chuuya anymore.

So it didnt matter to him either.

Dazai looked at his porcelain, mostly clear skin and cringed, he needed to fix that.

He needed to fix the pain that he was crying over, he didn't want to cry over this anymore, it felt so stupid.

Sure in his descison Dazai got up, the world around him spun for a little bit but he grounded himself by holding onto the wall. He felt weak, just standing, like he was re-learning to walk again.

Dazai, borderline, dragged himself to the kitchen, he had stopped in front of his room, considering the sharpener but that was too small, it required too much precision.

He needed somehting easy, large, that he could use mindlessly and he'd been thinking about the knives in the drawers for far too long now.

His mind didn't feel right though, he couldn't remember which drawer had the knives in it, he stopped walking for a second, body swaying in a circle as his vision disappeared. When he came too, he was still standing in the same place he'd been.

How strange.

It felt good not to be in control of his body like this. Normally he'd hate it but right now, with the way he was feeling, it felt slightly euphoric.

Pulling himelf together he made it to the drawer he thought had the knives but it didn't. And he looked in another. They weren't there.

Where were the god damn knives?!

Anger suddenly flushed through him and he started opening and slamming every drawer that didn't contain them.

Finally, he opened one drawer with a great big slam and he saw those glistening, ever so appetising, edges. His breathing calmed and he took the first one that came into contact with his hand. He didn't really register if it was sharp, he just took his chances.

Tears clouded his eyes again, he didn't hestiate anymore. But he didn't feel much, just that sensation of it tingling.

So he kept going and going. At some point though he cried loudly and his legs gave out from under him. The knife clattered the floor away from him, too far to reach and he couldn't bend over to grab it, he'd fall if he did. And he sunk to the floor, back against the kitchen cabinets, his lolled to the side and he breathed heavily through his tears.

That's all that echoed through the apartment, just his pitiful crying.

He felt, what he presumed was his blood, pool through his trousers, his vision constantly faded in and out as he grew increasingly drowsy.

Finally everything was kicking in.

What surprised him though wasn't the way he'd damaged himself so much that the colour of his skin wasnt white but red or the fact that the pills took so long to take affect.

But that his heart rate was decreasing.

He found it strange.

But he didn't mind very much.

Then the realisation hit him.

He was loosing blood and he'd taken sleeping medication and pain killers.

He could die.

Oddly enough he was at peace with this idea.

Dazai couldn't say he hadn't thought of what dying would be like but he'd never considered actaully dying. Even with the constant ache in his heart, Chuuya was always here to drag him back down to reality. If he died he'd lose too much, but he didn't have anything to lose anymore, so naturally dying soothed him now.

When he really thought about it, what was he actually here for?

Chuuya had been his main reason.

But he stopped caring about Dazai the moment Shirase stepped into the picture.

His other friends? Atsushi? Yosano? Kunikida? Kyouka? All of them? He cared about them and they cared about him too. But they could live without him.

They'd be sad, sure. Some of them would struggle more than others but he didn't think it would alter any of their lives significantly. They'd all move on and hopefully remember him fondly and that was it.

In spite of thinking that, Dazai still thought about all the good times he had.

He thought of the times Atsushi would grab his notebook and doodle little tigers in the corner. Or how he'd put little encouraging quotes when Dazai wasnt looking. Dazai smiled every time he read them, he'd even kept those notebooks, occasionally flicking through them when he accidentally looked at them in his closet.

He thought of Yosano and how'd they'd sit at the back of the canteen and talk shit about the weird kids.

Or, how he'd tell Ranpo the best way to steal Chuuya's food and the best hiding places in the school. Or even the times Ranpo would raise an eyebrow at him whenever the teacher said the least inappropriate thing and Dazai managed to make it incredibly dirty.

He thought about when he and Kyouka were taking a walk around the park and she saw an injured bird, her teary eyes were so sweet. Dazai couldn't help but want to help. So they nursed that little bird back to health together, it even came back to get fed by Kyoyka to this day.

He thought about Kunikida dragging him to libraries and cafes and universities, when Dazai felt like he was too incompetent to pass his exams. And the silent affirmations he gave Dazai when the going got tough.

He thought of Naomi giving him free coffees at the cafe she worked in and Junichirou helping him with laundry.

He thought of the times, at the start of High school when Akutagawa struggled to stay in large crowded places for too long and Dazai took him to sit under the many staircases in school, just the two of them.

He thought of all the times he awoke next to Chuuya, who was still dead alseep, and how peaceful he looked. Or how Chuuya would kiss him on the cheek or temple when no one else was around to see them. Or how Chuuya tried to learn how to ride a skateboard and fell on his ass so many times that by the end Dazai had laughed so much and for so long that he'd peed himself a little.

He thought of Oda taking he and Chuuya to the toy store and the way they spent over three hours picking what toy to buy when they were seven.

How they also ended up in the same classes in middle school. The feeling Dazai had when they were finally split in High School and then met their new freinds.

The time he and Chuuya drank together and Dazai got so drunk that he couldn't put his pyjama trousers on properly; they ended back to front and he hit his head on the sink in the process. Needless to say they remained the wrong way around.

Or when they smoked for the first time and they coughed so much that they lost their voices the next day and resorted into communicating with eachother through whines and grunts and scoffs and occasional sign that they could still remembere, Tachihara had called them aliens.

Speaking of Tachihara, he remered the boy teaching him how to score a goal in football and Dazai had managed to beat Gin, who'd been playing for a while. Chuuya had watched that game and had been so proud he kissed him on the forhead right in front of everyone.

And lastly Dazai thought of himself. The things he'd achieved, writing so well that Oda - a writer- had been impressed by him, getting that 34/35 on his creative writing paper, getting on a skateboard for the first time and landing all the tricks after a few attempts. Tasting what it would be like to fly, even for a second. Getting his first job at the library and meeting Fyodor, moving into his own apartment. For a nineteen (almost 20) year old he'd done pretty well for himself.

It was a shame it amounted to nothing in the end.

His ambition to be a writer amounted to nothing. His friendships amounted to nothing. Love amounted to nothing.
If he died now, nothing would be lost. There isn't anything to be lost when you already have nothing.

Dazai couldn't hear anything anymore. He couldn't feel his body either. He was falling alseep. He closed his eyes and smiled.

This was it.

How pathetic.

A loud bang was heard, distantly. Frantic footsteps. Distant voices that bellowed.

"He's here!"

"Fuck, fuck, fuck."

The ground shook and then Dazai felt gloved hands cup his cheeks.

"Dazai? Dazai?" That voiced called out brokenly, he felt those hands tremble on his cheeks, they lowered to his shoulders and began to shake him, gently at first "Dazai!?" He couldn't bring himself to respond. But then the shaking grew more vigorous and desperate, as did the calling of his name.

"He's not- he's-" the voice broke.

Dazai then heard somehting rip and then some pressure on his arm.

"Find some bandages! Now! We can't waste time, he's losing too much blood!"

Dazai then heard fast steps, then they stopped and then he didn't hear anything else.

"He... he tried Yosano... he tried to stop it," the voice echoed through the room, Dazai heard the way his voice echoed through the room "but he did take pills"

"Pills?!" Now Dazai knew this other voice was Yosano, she tightened whatever it was that wrapped around his arm "What pills?" Her tone was scary.

"I don't know. There's too many on the floor and I-I- I can't be sure."

"Shit, we can't make him throw up, it's been too much time, his stomach has probably started digesting it," Yosano inhaled shakily "we'll figure it out later, just bring the bandages," she spoke softer now.

The footsteps came back up to Dazai, and then took Dazai's left arm "I don't know what to do."

The two hands, that Dazai assumed belonged to Yosano left "just like this. That's how tight they should be, not too tight cause it'll restrict blood flow but not too loose or they're useless."

"O-okay," the wrapping continued, "Like this?"

"Yeah that's about right."

Dazai then felt Yosano hold his right hand "Dazai? You there?"

"Is he going to be okay?"

"I don't know, his heart rate is concerning  and if he took medication... this makes it harder to tell."

Dazai felt Yosano squeeze his hand and he tried to hold it back, he wasn't sure he succeeded and vaguely he thought about how pathetic it was that he couldn't even succeed in holding someone back. It wasn't enough that he failed in love, was it?

"He-! He twitched! Atsushi, try to hold his hand!" Oh, so he had managed that. At least he could do something.

Atsushi was here? Dazai felt shame crawl up his neck. He didn't want Atsushi to see him like this.

Dazai then felt Atsushi squeeze his bloodied hand, very hard, if Dazai was in the right state of mind, he would have told him to calm down.

"Dazai?" Atsushi called out. Dazai managed to muster up a groan and to open his eyes. He hated what he saw. Atsushi's cheeks were rosy, tears glistened on them and more rolled down once their eyes met. Dazai found that he didn't have much control over his body, including his head, it fell slightly to the side, so he could look at Yosano.
He couldn't see her face, she was looking down and her hair prevented Dazai from seeing how she felt. Then he noticed her shoulders jolt and a sniffle and he understood that she was crying too.

He'd never seen Yosano cry, she'd always been incredibly strong, she was blunt and didn't take shit from anybody, he always thought she'd be a good doctor because of that but at the end of the day Yosano was only human, there was only so much she could take. She was just as empathetic as the next person.

Now that he was slightly more aware of what he was doing, he squeezed Yosano's hand back "sano.." he croaked, throat dry.

"Get him some water Atsushi, we need to start flushing the drugs out of his system."

Atsushi got up from Dazai's side and began to fill a spare cup with tap water.

"Yosano..." Dazai muttered again, his voice felt distant, as did the tears that trickled down his face.

She looked up at him.

Dazai would have shuddered if he was more in control of his muscles, she looked both incredibly angry, increidibly scared and incredibly upset. "Why... why would you do this?" She cried quietly.

"M' sorry," Dazai whispered, "s' too much."

"What medication did you take?" Atsushi came back by this point and sat down, completely ignoring the blood on the floor, letting it sink into his white trousers he waited for Dazai to respond before giving him the water.

"Tramadol," Dazai had to think about it more, his thoughts muddled and unclear "and Zopiclone."

Atsushi looked between Yosano and Dazai "what's Zopiclone?"

"A strong medication for sleep," Yosano's bottom lip trembled "how many?" She asked Dazai.

Dazai shrugged, "Four of each." He felt his eyes roll to the back of his head and he had to strain himself to keep them forward and to keep his eyes open.

Atsushi took Dazai's chin after that and held the cup carefully to his lips; he then lifted his chin and dribbled the water down Dazai's throat gently.

They stayed in silence for about ten minutes, in which Dazai took in his surroundings as he gained sense. He was sitting in his own blood, the medication made him react slower and sleepy but he was keeping himself awake. He could hear and see both Atsushi and Yosano crying, sometimes Yosano would let go of his hand to wipe her tears away aggressively only holding Dazai's hand immediately after, as if she couldn't decide wether she was angry or upset at him.

On the other hand Atsushi didn't move, he just held Dazai's hand like if he let go, Dazai would dissappear.

"Why would you do this?" Atsushi asked, seemingly out of the blue "you could have bled to death or overdosed."

"I..." The more time Dazai spent sat here the more he felt guilty.

"Is it because of Chuuya?" Yosano asked.

Dazai involuntarily twitched and he felt sniffled, holding his head low.

It all felt rather stupid now, that he'd done this to himself because of one person, he was so angry, and so tired and so, so, so heartbroken. "Dazai..." Yosano prodded, as if to remind him to get out of his own head a little bit.

And suddenly, "I'M SORRY," he screamed, as he burst into energy . Yosano had let go of his hand, slightly shocked by the amount he was shaking.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Dazai sobbed, somewhere he heard a vibration and ring tone, Atsushi let go of him and took his phone out, so that's what it was. The younger pressed his phone to his ear, he didn't register what Atsushi was saying, going to grab onto Yosano's sleeves, clutching onto her sleeves. He still didn't;t have much control over his head and his fell forward and he sobbed painfully his voice cracking as if it hurt physically to talk and cry as hard as he was, "I'm so sorry- I didn't mean it! I'm so sorry!" Dazai cried, his blood smearing against the kitchen floor and sinking into his trousers. "I... I'm so sorry! I didn't meant to do it! I tried to stop! I tried to make it stop!"

"Then why did you do it?!" Atsushi let go of the phone, letting it fall to the floor, he then clutched onto Dazai's t-shirt in the same way that Dazai was clutching Yosano's jumper. "Because... cause I can't take it! I can't take being so lonely! I can't take loving him so much-! I want him so much! I took everything he threw at me! I accepted it! But I can't! I can't- I love Chuuya so much!"

"What about us?"

Dazai looked up at Atsushi, through watery eyes, he repeated his question, "what about us? Don't we matter?"

Dazai lowered his head "You do... so much... but you all have somebody to lean on! Somebody you're closer to than anybody else. Who do I have?" Dazai blubbered "who I had-" he inhaled shakily, finding it hard to breath with his sobbing, it was like he was being strangled, "who I had isn't here! Chuuya doesn't care anymor-"

Dazai's sentence was cut off when Yosano pulled him into her chest, she wrapped her arms around his neck and dug her head into his hair. Dazai was sitting awkwardly, bent in half from how his legs were flat and spread on the floor and he was being pulled downwards, his leg muscles felt like they were being pulled. He didn't mind. He moved his hands from Yosano's arms and around the small of her back, letting his sobs soak into her shirt.

He felt Atsushi hold him from the side, resting his head on Dazai's back.

Dazai's cries came out muffled "I'm tired," he grasped onto air, like he was asmathic "I'm so tired."

He felt Atsushi's grip on his side tighten, "please don't say that."

"It's the truth."

Yosano parted from him, her hands went from Dazai's hair and to the sides of his head. Dazai thought she looked quite beautiful crying, he wished they were happy tears instead. "Then we'll help you. Everyone. Everyone, we'll be your energy drink, your sleep. Just let us help you. Let us in Dazai."

More tears spilled down their faces and Dazai nodded, he nodded and dug his head back into her chest, moving his arm from Yosano's side to drag Atsushi closer to the front of the hug. He then moved his hand from the side of Atsushi's sleeve and up to his head, brining Yosano's and Atsushi's heads together.

"I will. I will. I promise," he could feel his whole body sweating, his heart hammering, he sucked all of his snot back into his nose as he nodded profusely in Yosano's chest.

"It's a promise to all of us Dazai..not just us two. There's a bunch of people in this world who want you here," Atsushi whispered.

"And just because you argued with Chuuya. Years and years of friendship can't just become nothing to him," Atsushi added "he's not doing well either right now."

As horrible as it was for Dazai to think this, he was glad that Chuuya felt bad, he was glad that Chuuya found this difficult too and it wasn't just him who was suffering.

But a small part of him, despite his anger, wanted to run back and encase the smaller in his arms and tell him it would be alright.

After a while Atsushi and Yosano picked up Dazai and took him into his bed. They lay him down and placed a large bottle of water by his bedside, so he could start flushing the medication out of his body.

While Yosano did later leave, Atsushi remained. He slept by Dazai's side that night, holding him close while also curling into the brunet occasionally Dazai would hear gentle sniffles or feel Atsushi bring his hand up to wipe away tears and snot or even dig his face deeper into Dazai's back. The guilt that consumed Dazai was immense.

Dazai learnt a lot that night.

Number one: taking medication for emotional pain is stupid.

Number two: slitting his wrists didn't help him at all.

Number three: He may feel like he didn't mean anything to anybody else but that didn't mean it was true.

Number four: Chuuya had suffered too.

Number five: He mattered

And Number six: He was still in love with Chuuya.