May Be Manic - Dazai x Chuuya

- II -

POV: Dazai

"What kind of day is it?", the doc asks, as per usual.
"A good one", I reply with a smile.
The smile - if you even want to call it that - is a well-practiced, yet poorly executed act of mine. Despite knowing what makes a smile seem authentic, like the slightly narrowed eyes and the wrinkles around them, my smile never looks quite right. But in here, luckily, it doesn't matter. Nobody here cares how I am, so it's fine. I mimic a smile, and they're content.

Good days are always a strange thing, but I believe they're much stranger in mental health facilities. Here, there's not really such a thing as a good day. You get a few acceptable hours, at most. Not only because your environment constantly reminds you of your troubles and failures, but also because the only way to have a 'good' time is when everyone is feeling good at the exact same time. If that's not the case, someone's gonna end up ruining it for everyone - and it'll end up being the worst day in a while. That's what usually happens.
Today, Atsushi-kun's probably gonna be the one to ruin the mood. He's been off all morning, but no one seems to notice, and I'm not one to step in.

"What makes it a good day?"
"I don't know... The sun... The sun's shining. I like that."
"That's good... It's very good that you looking out for things you like."
Fukuzawa-sensei closes his notebook.

I can't remember the last time I actually had a good day. Nothing feels good anymore. But this morning the sun was shining on my face when I woke up, and I figured its warmth was something that I'd usually like, if there wasn't so much wrong with me.
So I decided that I'd make today seem like a good day.
Look at me, doc.
Hey, look at me.
Do you see it?
I'm getting better.
Soon, you can let me leave.
Every day in here is part of my act. I act like I'm slowly getting better. That's not really hard, I just have to make sure that my progress seems realistic.
I can't heal too fast.
Also, regardless of the way I act, it'll take a bit to get out of here. They're sorta suspicious of me because of the last few times.

"You can go back to the others now", the doc announces, as if it's a nice thing.
"Try to enjoy your day... and the sun."
I nod, smile a little wider and leave.

I don't like spending time with the others. They're always nervous and noisy, and they talk about the same few things over and over again. It's like listening to a loud, off-key song on loop, every day, from eight to one and from six to ten. The rest of the day it's either sleep or sit in your room with your roommates, and I can't sleep, so there's not really a choice here.
The same song over and over again.
The same volume.
The same voices.
The same mistakes.
All my life I've wished for some peace, for the comfort of permanence; but this was never what I wanted.

But it's all I'm getting.