The moonlight leaked into the darkroom, illuminating a young man sprawled across the wooden tiled floor as cold air wooshed inside, causing him to shiver ever so slightly. Clothes were scattered all across the room, items were knocked over, shattered pieces of glass were sprinkled across the floor, but there was no one to pay attention to them.

Dazai stared at his curtain as it fluttered with the slow breeze of the wind which brought in the musky scent of the air. He inhaled shaky breaths while closing his eyes, hoping the world would stop spinning, hoping he would feel nothing. He clenched his shaking hands, squeezed his eyes, and begged the pain to leave.

Gaining confidence, he gently got up with the help of his right arm, but instantly regretted it as he winced. He slid back towards the wall, stretching his legs in front of him as he kept looking at the curtain, as if it were dancing so peacefully, so elegantly, luring the fellow, distracting him from the storm around him.

It was almost as if he could be lost in that world forever, away from this emotion, away from this pain, from this torture, just free.

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he closed his eyes once again and felt his heart beat faster. Clenching his jaw, Dazai shivered, both in cold and in fear. His chest felt so constricted, it was hard to breathe. But mustering up courage he whipped his face down to the horrors that awaited him.

He saw red, all red.

His bandages were undone with splotches of blood growing on them as his blood trickled down his arms. Deep, fresh cuts from along the veins of his wrists to the nook of his elbows bled mercifully and seeped into his white chinos.

Dazai's eyes widened as his breath quickened and his hands shook violently.

He saw red, all red.

He wanted to scream, he wanted to let it all out, he wanted to let them all know how worthless and pitiful he was.

His throat felt tight and it felt as if his heart had a hole in it. He felt so alone, he wanted someone to just be there, to share his pain, to know what he had been dealing with.

With that, a sob choked out of him, then another, and another. Before he could stop it, he was bawling, everything he held inside of him he let it all out, the angst, the resentment, the agony. The want to leave, the need for a reason to live, the request for happiness, and someone to hold.

Bending forward he tried to stop it, tried to stop himself from feeling too much, trying to stop his mask from breaking.

With his quivering hands, he tried to wrap his blemished arms, trying to stop the blood from flowing. But the blood escaped through the bandages. Getting up, he crawled to a dresser, fumbling with the knob he opened it, imprinting it with his blood, and hastily gathered his bandages and swaddled his arms until the blood stopped oozing.

Sniffing, he realized his tears had dried on his cheeks and his hands had stopped shaking.

Dazai noticed his blood had stopped and sighed in relief. He leaned on the dresser ignoring the knobs poking into his back and hung his head down while closing his eyes.

Suddenly, everything seemed calm, he could finally breathe, and the wind blowing in brought him to peace. He opened his eyes to look at the dancing curtain he was once awed by. But this time he noticed something more, beyond the curtain was the night sky, perfectly black with the moon shining so bright, Dazai felt a little bit of hope gleam in his chest.

The moonlight leaked into the darkroom, illuminating a young man who sat against a dresser gazing at the moon, as cold air wooshed inside causing him to shiver ever so slightly.

He smiled, and the moon smiled back.