just like the old times

The insanity was slowly eating away at Dazai, and he was allowing it. Every breath he took, he felt to its fullest; as though it went all the way down to his toes and spread into every corner of his body. The alcohol must have been heightening his senses. That was it- of course. The lights were far too loud and the constant sound of people talking in his ear was pounding into the back of his skull. His skin felt as though it was pulsing; expanding- melting past his bones and exposing the multitude of secrets he hid underneath. He hated it with every fiber in his being, so much that he began to dig his fingers into his arms subconsciously. It was a desperate and feeble attempt to try and ground himself, using the pain as a way to remain in the present reality. And though only slightly, it did work, giving him enough strength to stand up on shaky legs and angle his body towards the exit. But then, only then-

That's where he saw him.

(Or, alternatively, Dazai goes to an annual event that he had attended every year before he left the Port Mafia. The only problem is, he always went with a certain redhead, so of course... what could go wrong when he revisits it the year after his departure?)