𝐿𝑜𝓃𝓁𝑒𝓎 𝒯𝑜𝑔𝒽𝑒𝓉𝑒𝓇

Chapter 4

Even though I ended up giving him my phone number Dazai would never call. Instead, he would show up at my place several times a week without a warning or a reason. He took a liking to just watching me do the simplest things, like folding the laundry, in silence without ever offering his help.

At first it made me uncomfortable having him hang around my place. Sometimes I would forget that he was even there and then nearly die from a heart attack when he would randomly speak up. Once I even ended up tripping over him while he was laying in the middle of the hallway and dropped the groceries all over the floor.

But even after all these incidences I couldn't ever complain about his presence. I never once lost my temper or dared to shout at him. I didn't even had the desire to tell him to get lost. Even though Dazai became a burden to me I felt like there was no way I would ever abandon him.   

"Is there something you need?"

The questions made Dazai look up at me in silence. He had been laying on the couch all day starring at the ceiling. His face was pale, not like it was usually pale, but almost ghostly. I felt like just by looking at him I could see the life drain out of his body.

I waited for a while but didn't get an answer so I carefully placed one my hands on his forehead. It wasn't concerningly hot so he didn't have a fever after all.

"Don't worry. I won't need any medical supply" he said with a small smile forming on his face. For the first time his eyes didn't remain cold. Instead, his eyebrows were clenched together so they were forming small wrinkles on his forehead and his eyes were narrowed and almost teary. It felt like a wall was crashing down when for the first time he was showing me more than the mere facade.

It caught me off guard seeing him that way. I wouldn't have expected Dazai to ever let his guard down, never even considered it as possible. There were already two sides to him after all. The one that was playful and childish and the one that remained quiet and observant. Now that he showed me this new, vulnerable side of himself it was impossible for me to detect what his real personality was. Or maybe they were all somehow parts of his character.

"How does it feel?" I whispered as I took his hand. I was fully aware that I wasn't trying to be any kind of support but rather I was trying to fill the emptiness in my own chest with his words.

"I'm not a good person. I did bad things and now they're slowly eating me up from the inside. Now I can neither find pleasure in death nor live since I know I deserve neither."

His words made me realize that we were different in a way. While Dazai seemed to suffer from the idea of living and dying I had almost grown numb to both. But that didn't disappoint me. Rather it made me feel drawn to him more. I was drawn to the sadness that he put into his words. It was almost like I found peace in his suffering.

That was the first night Dazai spent over at my place, mostly because he didn't find the strength to push himself off the couch and leave before it was so late that the subways wouldn't engage in traffic anymore. I didn't really mind him staying over. It didn't even bother me much that he came crawling into my bed in the middle of the night like a child that had a nightmare.

Dazai rested his head on my chest while I played with small strands of his hair. The warmth of his body was comforting and his voice soft as he mumbled nonsense, rather to himself than to me. His arms were wrapped around my waist and our legs were crossed under the blanket.

I felt detached from this world like it happened so often. It was like we were flooding away, slowly slipping through the ceiling, further and further until there was nothing more than empty space surrounding us. But for the first time it didn't scare me. For the first time I didn't feel alone.

Even now when everything was slowly fading out,I could still feel his arms around me. I still heard his soft breathing and even though my eyes were closed I could picture his face right in front of me. He looked so pure, almost adorable when he was asleep. It was ridiculous. How could a lost soul wear such a pretty face?