People are afraid of the dark and what lurks in it. They are afraid of her as well.
And yet, Dazai Osamu-- a man drowning in the same sea of shadows that had long since become her home-- was the first to tell her that she belonged to the light.
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•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••
I will kiss you like forgiveness.
You will hold me like I'm hope.
Our arms will bandage
and we will press promises between us
like flowers in a book.
I will write sonnets to the salt of sweat on your skin.
I will write novels to the scar on your nose.
I will write a dictionary of all the words I have used
trying to describe the way it feels
to have finally, finally found you.
And I will not be afraid of your scars.
•• ━━━━━ ••●•• ━━━━━ ••
Sleep is the closest one can get to death without actually dying, and yet, Dazai has never found enjoyment in indulging in the act despite his fascination with death. It has only ever been something to be done because even he must bend to biological whims lest he lose his mind from the lack of sleep. And while losing his mind does sound appealing sometimes, he doesn't think he'll find the following events involving straitjackets and electroshock therapy particularly enjoyable.
To this day, he detests pain of any magnitude. How ironic for it to be the only constant in his life.
It's not that he dislikes the idea of sleep, and Kunikida would attest to as much given how many naps Dazai takes at work. Perhaps a more truthful statement would be that he has grown to dislike the nighttime when he has no one but himself for company. This is when the violence in his head gets louder and Dazai wants nothing more than to put an end to the intense silence.