notes: medication, slight suicidal ideation

there was a dull pain encompassing dazai's brain, slowly closing in on his numbing mind. his eyes drooped tiredly, his thoughts wandered aimlessly and there you sat, opposite him. your clipboard was still on your lap, you scrutinising gaze still on him.

his fingers twitched. he wanted to do something, to scream, to cry, but he was too tired to do anything but sit there. an exhausted smile stretched across his lips as he spoke, only vaguely aware of the words tumbling out his mouth. "ah, doctor, i didn't have any thoughts of suicide." he closed his eyes sleepily. his throat ached, something didn't feel quite right, but this was the path to recovery, right? this was a small price to pay for salvation, right?

right?

"that's good." you began listing off side effects, how it will take a while for dazai's body to adjust, the like, but he wasn't listening anymore. oh how he wished he was normal, with a normal life and a normal family and a normal job and not so fucking fragile and fucked up. he wanted to be saved from this pit of despair but he barely has the energy to do anything anymore and just sleeps his life away. he can't be suicidal if he's asleep, now can he?

ah, it was a small sacrifice to make for the salvation he sought for decades. he dreamt of a time where he was no longer insane, a time where he was worthy of love, and he thought that would only be obtainable through death. he didn't want to die anymore, but he didn't want to do anything but sleep.

there was an emptiness in his eyes, a heaviness in his limbs, an endless screech of nothingness numbing his brain—

"mr dazai? mr dazai?"

*
:)