I pray for your mind, I pray for my soul

.. and I don't wanna miss you tonight

Title: Iris, by the goo goo dolls

Seventeen: Osamu Dazai

The solitude of his confinement was oddly peaceful, or at least it had become a familiar sort of peace. Dazai was kneeling on the cold, unyielding floor, his arms bound tightly in a straightjacket. He'd spent enough time in solitary to grow accustomed to the rhythmic hum of the ventilation system and the occasional echoes of distant footsteps.

Today, however, something felt off. The air seemed to hum differently, as if resonating with a barely perceptible vibration. Dazai had long since learned not to ignore such subtleties, but he couldn't quite place the source of the disturbance.

Suddenly, the floor beneath him began to tremble, a low, ominous rumble that grew steadily louder. Dazai's curiosity turned to concern as he felt the vibrations intensify. He shifted slightly, trying to see if there was anything in his immediate vicinity that might be causing the disruption. The straightjacket restricted his movement, but he could still manage a limited amount of adjustment.

The tremors escalated quickly, and Dazai could no longer remain seated. He struggled to keep his balance, the floor beneath him seeming to waver and ripple like a mirage. His heart rate quickened as he realised the situation was beyond his control.

Without warning, the ground beneath him gave way, creating a deep, dark void. The sensation was like being yanked by an invisible force, and Dazai felt his body being pulled downward with alarming speed. He tried to call out, but his voice was swallowed by the overwhelming noise and the disorienting pull of the void.

As he fell, the world around him blurred into a chaotic mix of shifting shadows and indistinct shapes. It felt as if he was falling through an endless tunnel, the edges of reality twisting and distorting around him. His senses were overwhelmed, and he could barely make out anything beyond the relentless pull of the void.

Just as abruptly as it had begun, the sensation stopped. Dazai found himself on solid ground once more, though the environment around him was anything but familiar. He blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the new surroundings. The room was dimly lit and distorted, much different than the bright room he was in before.

He tries to stay calm as a hand touches his shoulder– he knows to stay calm. "Dazai-kun." The voice speaks, sounding extremely familiar. The man walks forward, kneeling in front of Dazai– Ango's sitting in front of him, unbuckling the straps that confine him.

"Ango?" He questions, still distorted. A pill is placed on his lips, he tries to spit it out, but he's stopped by a hand covering his mouth and nose, his hands grab at it, the hands firm.

"Right, thank you Ango-san, I can take it from here." Another voice peers, stepping into the room, Fyodor is standing in front of Dazai, and before he knows it, his hands are being restrained, elbow-to-elbow. He's bent forward, face being pressed to the floor.

The pill he took isn't helping his head from the pounding sensations that's testing his patience. Fyodor continues to push, Dazai feels weak. Probably the pill he had given Dazai last time– Fuck, he snarls.

"He should be out soon," Another voice confirms, and Dazai can feel his body going lax in Fyodor's hold, till he can feel anything anymore.

Dazai blinked several times, trying to clear the disorienting haze from his mind. The softness beneath him contrasted sharply with the hard, cold floor from before. As he adjusted to the new sensation, he realized he was still restrained, and a blindfold covered his eyes, preventing him from seeing his surroundings.

"Seems you're finally awake," a voice growled with a note of satisfaction. The voice was unmistakable—Fyodor Dostoevsky. Dazai's heart skipped a beat as he processed the words.