Dazai had been in and out of therapy for years now. He knew the drill.
After several stints in inpatient facilities, he was well acquainted with the rules of such places, and after countless group therapy sessions with multiple different types of people and therapists, he knew how to handle others in that same setting.
He'd been put on several different medications over the years, all with varying results, and had tried many of his own recreational drugs to test their usefulness as well (and occasionally just because he was bored).
He's had to talk about himself and his life story so many times that at this point he was numb to any and all personal questions, answering them without hesitation or shame.
They've stripped him completely to check for contraband and hidden injuries so often that any reservations he'd had about showing off his body were forced to disappear. He's been naked and examined in front of so many strangers that the bandages he used to cover himself have become more of a habit than a necessity.
To keep it simple; he was used to this.
Maybe the reason so many mentally ill people got into the world of psychology was because of just how much time was spent already living in the thick of it. Dazai couldn't deny that he'd had more experience around psychologists than any other type of worker, so he might as well go into a career in psychology if this whole suicide thing doesn't work out.
Although the idea of him telling others not to think about suicide, when he himself was still activelyplanning attempts, was laughable enough to almost make him want to try it.
It's not like it mattered anyway. If things go his way (although they rarely do in this life), then he'll be dead before he has to think about any kind of career path.
Until he could try again though, he was stuck in another inpatient facility after yet another failed attempt. Luckily, since this was far from his first time, he was quite familiar with the routine of this place.
There were many unspoken rules about group therapy.
Never comment on someone's obvious insanity, even if they are so out of touch that it's painful to listen to.
Never snitch on the other patients for stealing markers from the main room. For any contraband really. Unless it's a knife, or gun, or something, but that almost never happens.
Never get in a relationship with someone you met in inpatient. While Dazai's never had this problem, he's seen plenty of instances where people 'fall in love'while stuck 24/7 in the same building as each other. It never lasts and it's never pretty.
Never talk about what is talked about in group therapy outside of group therapy. Free time is not for talking about such things.
Never hold what someone does or says while having an episode against them. Breakdowns are common, but people should be treated no differently after experiencing them.
Never make things harder for the other patients by breaking a rule that would affect the whole group.
Of course, since Dazai was an asshole, he'd made it his mission to break every single one of these unspoken rules. He's openly mocked and bullied other patients, snitched on numerous roommates, committed adulterous acts with other lonely crazies, broke numerous rules of the facility itself, and generally tried his absolute hardest to find some form of unconventional entertainment while stuck in such a boring place.
This particular facility remembered him none-too-fondly, the staff giving him an exasperated look as he was brought in yet again.
The last time he was here, he'd broken out and taken two other patients with him. They'd only made it to the highway before they were caught again, but what a rush it had been. He made sure to give his favorite nurse an extra big smile as he stood at the front to get checked in.
"Odasaku! How have things been? Has anyone I know been by recently?"
There were occasions where he would be put in a room and someone who he'd met in a previous visit would be there as well. Those were always fun little coincidences. Well, fun for him. The other person wasn't always so happy to see Dazai again.
The nurse smiled indulgently at him and shook his head with undue fondness, "Dazai, I thought I told you not to end up back here again."
"But Oda," Dazai pouted, "I didn't come here on purpose! The hospital took me directly here as soon as I was released. If they had simply let me bleed out, I wouldn't be here at all."
The boy grinned as if he didn't just admit to almost dying. Rather than being put off by the callousness in his words, the nurse only gave him a look and finished signing him in.
It was true though; he had just come from the hospital.
Bandages still covered his arms and neck to protect the fresh wounds from reopening, and to prevent himfrom reopening them. His clothes were whatever the hospital had on hand for him to wear, as his other clothes had been absolutely ruined when they'd found him. A plain t-shirt and sweatpants. Bland and boring, but hopefully his father would be coming to visit with his usual clothes by tomorrow morning.
It was late now, since they'd wanted to get him inpatient as soon as possible. All of the other patients were already in their rooms, and he wondered idly if whoever they paired him with would be surprised to find the bed next to them occupied in the morning.
"Try and get some sleep tonight, Dazai. I'm sure you'll need all of your energy to start trouble tomorrow." Oda gave him a pair of no-slip socks as Dazai dutifully traded in his sneakers. No laces allowed.
"I'll be sure to only cause chaos when you're not on shift." Dazai promised, winking at the nurse with eyes only slightly brighter than they had been when he walked in.
For once actually feeling tired, Dazai followed the other nurse who had brought him in as they toted him towards his new room for at least the next week.
While usually he would love to get to know his new roommate (and find out the best way to annoy them), all he wanted to do once he got into his room was pass out into the stiff bed sheets. Unfortunately, his roomie was awake when they got there, sitting up in his bed furthest from the door and eyes shooting up at the movement. Dazai paused for a moment to blink at the other boy, taking him in.
He had deep red hair, slightly longer over one shoulder, and the coldest blue eyes he'd ever seen in his life. His lips seemed to be in a permanent pout, although the rest of his face gave away his emotions easily.
The other boy was obviously sizing him up as well, eyeing Dazai up and down as he came to his own conclusions about him. Based on the lingering gaze upon his bandages, he could take a guess as to what the other boy was thinking.
Dazai was used to it though, and any assumptions the other made would be either confirmed or denied in group tomorrow.
"Hey. I'm Nakahara Chuuya." The boy introduced himself after seemingly affirming that Dazai was someone worth knowing.
"Didn't ask." Dazai deadpanned, ignoring the insulted squawk that the other boy- Chuuya, let out. He didn't bother paying any more attention to his new roommate, plopping face down onto his new bed and closing his eyes without pulling the covers over him.
Sleep was rapidly taking him, so he was glad that at least the facility's strict schedule required lights out and silence past a certain time. He'd rather not have to start a conversation with anyone right now.
Before he could fully drift into unconsciousness, he heard Chuuya mutter under his breath across the room, "Asshole."
Dazai snorted tiredly.
Usually people in the mental hospital either took everything to heart or immediately started a physical fight. If someone else was willing to play games with him, that might make this stay quite a bit more fun than previous ones.
Especially if that person was his roommate.
As sleep finally stole his mind, Dazai thought about all the unspoken and explicit rules he'd broken, and which ones he would attempt to break this time. Maybe he could even have some help this time around, if he could get this new roommate of his to join in on the fun.
Those were all thoughts for tomorrow-Dazai though.
And so, screaming at his brain to shut up, he forced his overactive mind to succumb to the void.
...
"Good morning everyone, wake up! It's time for vitals and breakfast."
A sing-song voice cheerfully knocked on the open door of their room. Dazai groaned and rolled over onto his back to blink tiredly up at the ceiling.
One of the most annoying parts about being stuck in inpatient, besides the all of it, was the strict schedule that they made you follow.
Of course he knew logically that a routine was good for mentally ill people, it gave them a structure and helped them function like neurotypical human beings. Still, he hated waking up early.
Dazai liked to sleep. It was like micro-dosing on death. Or at least, that's what he assumed death was like. Just one infinitely long sleep.
Regardless, he hated getting awoken before noon.
However, he did want to get a feel for what people he was going to be getting to know intimately for at least the next week, including seeing if his usual nurses were still working or if there were any new psychologists.
So, with great reluctance, Dazai rolled off of the bed and onto the floor with a thud, allowing the slight pain of hitting the ground to wake him up.
"Oww-" He whined, fully aware that it was his own fault for hurting himself.
A low chuckle brought him out of his own thoughts and he looked to the side just in time to see a flash of red turn out the door. Well, at least his roommate got some joy from his pain.
Deciding that he was awake enough to stop putting off the start of the day, Dazai got to his feet and stretched with a yawn.
It was time for the day to begin.
After getting his vitals taken, he slumped into the main room and grabbed a bowl of fruit loops and a cup of orange juice for breakfast, choosing to take advantage of the generally calm atmosphere to observe the other patients.
He noticed with a little smile that the nurse who had woken them up and taken their vitals was another one of his favorites, Yosano Akiko. She was tough as nails and wasn't afraid to be harsh on patients. He respected her a lot for her borderline sadistic personality, something that was frowned upon amongst child psychologists.
The front desk nurse was not Oda anymore, seeing as the other man usually worked night shifts, and was now the less well-liked Sakaguchi Ango. He was a stickler for doing things by the book, but at least he was fun to tease.
A psychologist he didn't recognize stood at the desk discussing something with Ango. He looked older, and was wearing a traditional Japanese yukata in place of the usual scrubs that the doctors had to wear.
Dazai tilted his head curiously at that. Interesting.
Of the other patients, Dazai noted that he actually did recognize one of them. A boy younger than him by the name of Akutagawa. He'd met him at another facility once before, for something he couldn't quite remember (he'd still been coming down from an overdose at that time, and was a little out of it). They had gotten along well though, which wasn't something he could say about most people who met him.
Eager to annoy someone, and thrilled to see that the boy was sitting next to his redheaded roommate, Dazai picked up his breakfast and immediately relocated to sit down across from them.
The younger teenager jolted in surprise at someone sitting so abruptly, before locking eyes with Dazai and raising his nearly invisible eyebrows in shock.
"Akutagawa, you son of a bitch. What are you doing back here?" Dazai asked loudly, grinning ear to ear at the boy in front of him.
The redhead rolled his eyes but otherwise didn't react to his intrusion, looking down at his own food to eat.
"Dazai-san. I guess I shouldn't be surprised to see you here again. How did you try it this time?" Akutagawa inquired, taking a small sip of water and expertly avoiding answering Dazai's question. Honestly, Dazai didn't see the issue with just saying it. It's not like he wouldn't find out at group therapy later anyway.
"Blood loss from multiple flesh wounds. Didn't work though, obviously." Dazai shrugged, acting playfully annoyed that his suicide attempt failed, only somewhat serious.
"Maybe you're immortal." Akutagawa pondered, looking at Dazai thoughtfully. If it was from anyone else, he would've assumed they were joking.
"God I hope not, that would be terrible. All of my hard work would be for nothing!" He responded with just as much seriousness.
They were interrupted from any further conversation by Yosano calling out to the room, "It's time for morning meds everyone. Line up at the window."
Dazai stood with a sigh.
Another thing he hated about inpatient care was the lack of autonomy. He was told when and where to take his meds, which means he didn't get the chance to abuse his medication and take more than prescribed.
Well, supposedly that would be a good thing if he was trying to recover. Dazai however, was not trying to recover.
He didn't want to get better. He wanted to die.
Still, it was far too early in the morning to start any trouble, so he went along with the others and waited outside of the med window for his daily dose of mood stabilizers, antipsychotics, and antidepressants.
He'd been put on several different medications throughout the years, although none seemed to ever really mix well with him. His physiology simply didn't accept anything he was taking. His current cocktail of prescriptions in particular didn't necessarily make him not suicidal. They really just made him sleepy, and supposedly more stable.
It was strange. He wasn't sure whether he preferred the mood stabilizers or not. They kept him from feeling an overwhelming depth of sadness, but they also made everything rather dull.
He was suicidal either way, just for different reasons. Wanting to die because the despair was too consuming, or wanting to die because nothing mattered. Dazai figured that maybe that was another reason why meds just never seemed to work.
They could change his behavior, but they couldn't change his thoughts. They could control his mood but they could not give him a reason to desire living. Nothing could.
With that depressing thought in mind, he knocked back his little cup of pills, swallowing them dry just to impress the other patients (although nobody was looking), and opening his mouth for the med counter nurse to check.
Done with the morning tasks, Dazai made his way back to his room to hopefully get in a quick morning shower before they had to actually start the day's activities.
His lingering sleepiness would hopefully be washed away with the uncomfortably strong water pressure of the shower. If he remembered correctly, this facility's water shot down like icicles on bare skin, taking much too long to turn warm if it ever did. A perfect freezing jolt to shock even more awareness into him.
He didn't have any new clothes to change into, but it's not like he particularly cared about hygiene. He'd just skip the underwear and wear the same sweats and shirt he was already wearing.
Unfortunately, as he trudged back into his room with a towel from the front desk, his new roommate was there, reading a book on his bed. Chuuya looked up as he entered, raising an eyebrow to Dazai and the lankier boy sighed as he prepared himself for more conversation.
"So, your name is Dazai?" Chuuya began curiously, putting down his book.
"Dazai Osamu," He tipped an invisible hat, "And you are Nakahara Chuuya."
Chuuya raised his chin, "So you did actually hear me last night."
"Obviously I did. Just didn't care." Dazai shrugged, about to go into the attached bathroom and close the curtain separating the two rooms. They weren't allowed to have closed doors here.
"Bastard! Are you trying to start a fight?"
"And what if I am?" Dazai smirked at him, curious to see where this would go.
Chuuya narrowed his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest, "Then I won't give you the satisfaction."
"Oh?" The taller boy couldn't help but muse, "We'll see about that."
He may be asking for a punch in the face at this point, but was that really out of character for him?
Chuuya had apparently had enough of him, because he swiftly picked back up his book and buried his nose in it, ignoring Dazai's presence. He snorted in amusement at the childish behavior, deciding to have mercy on the poor fool for now.
As he shut the curtain behind him and stripped for his shower, he couldn't help the giddy grin that had overtaken his face. Even looking down at his own horrifically scarred and underfed body didn't bring down his mood as he cheerily turned on the water.
This would definitely be more fun than his previous stays.
After what was probably the fastest shower he'd ever taken, Dazai quickly dried off and put back on his borrowed clothes, ready to face the day.
He hadn't bothered taking off his bandages, deciding he'd rather deal with the gross feeling of wet cloth than have to sit through group therapy with everyone pretending their eyes weren't drawn directly to his recent wounds.
When he pulled back the curtain that separated the bathroom from the bedroom, Chuuya was still sitting on his own bed. Although now instead of reading his book he was just laid down on his back with his arms covering his face.
Dazai threw his wet towel onto his own bed for now and tilted his head curiously at the other boy.
"Getting in a quick nap before group?" He assumed, a slight teasing tone to his voice.
Chuuya groaned, dragging his arms heavily down his face. His cheeks were tinged red, although the color was fading.
"I was hoping you'd drowned in the shower." Chuuya deadpanned, not moving his position.
Dazai was delighted.
Usually people walked on eggshells around him. When they found out about his suicidal tendencies or his self harm, people rarely treated him normally. Everything was always said with a hint of concern or wariness, as if a single word could set him off.
It was refreshing to meet someone who wasn't afraid to give as much as he got.
"Unfortunately it is quite impossible to drown in the showers here. I've tried." Dazai threw in another quip that would've made anyone else uncomfortable; being so blasé about his previous suicide attempts to test Chuuya's attitude more.
"Idiot, you actually tried that?" The redhead did not disappoint, sitting up in bed and looking at Dazai as if he were a disgusting creature, "You're even dumber than I thought."
"Not as dumb as Chuuya is for believing me." He teased, sticking out his tongue at the other, "I'm not stupid, of course I didn't actually try that. Besides, drowning is one of the worst ways to die."
He grimaced at the thought.
He had tried drowning himself before. It was peaceful at first but when his reflexes kicked in and he inhaled a lungful of water, the quietness that came with being submerged quickly lost its charm.
Chuuya rolled his eyes, getting up off of his bed to walk closer to him. It was only when he was standing directly in front of him that Dazai finally noticed something damning about his roommate.
"Ah, you're short."
"The fuck did you just say!?"
Chuuya made an adorably pissed off expression, grabbing the front of Dazai's shirt and dragging him down to meet eye to eye. The taller boy couldn't help but laugh, causing the other's grip to tighten on his collar.
"Oi! Call me short again asshole, see what happens." He growled like an angry little chihuahua.
Dazai just grinned at him, patting Chuuya's fist condescendingly.
This kid was too easy to rile up.
"Careful chibi, they'll put you in time-out." He tested out a nickname that just came to mind, ecstatic to see Chuuya's face flush as red as his hair in anger and embarrassment.
"Chibi?!" He shoved Dazai away from himself, puffing up, "Shut the hell up or I'll put you in time-out, bastard."
Dazai was about to respond with another mocking remark but was interrupted when Chuuya kicked him in the shin faster than he could blink. His hands immediately flew down and his leg flew up as he made a noise of shock rather than pain.
Did this little shrimp really just kick him?
This was just getting better and better. Never before had he met someone so reactionary. Usually those types of patients were put in a different ward, one specializing in violent adolescents.
"I'm telling the nurses you kicked me." The taller boy whined. Chuuya froze, looking like a deer in headlights and although Dazai had just gotten physically assaulted by him, he took pity on the kid, "Hehe, just kidding~"
"Asshole!" His roommate hissed again, shoulders relaxing slightly at the reassurance.
Dazai snickered in delight at the insult, ready to spend the rest of his life teasing the other boy, but before he could retort, Chuuya huffed and shoved his way past Dazai and into the main hall.
He let out a disappointed sigh at his fun coming to an end, but tried to cheer himself up with the thought of how he could mess with Chuuya more during group. With nothing better to do, Dazai turned to follow his roommate.
The facility was set up in the corner of a building, with two long hallways filled with rooms and the reception and activity area at the point where they meet. The hallways were separated boys and girls, and the activity area was just a room filled with tables and chairs, like a cafeteria but much smaller. It was where they'd had breakfast earlier and it was where they went now for group therapy. The tables had all been pushed to the sides and the chairs set up in a circle when the two boys walked in.
Chuuya immediately took a chair in between two other patients so that Dazai could not sit next to him. He pouted petulantly but simply sighed and sat down in the chair next to one of the staff for the day, that unfamiliar nurse wearing a yukata that he'd seen earlier.
As they waited for the rest of the patients to come in, Dazai decided to get a read on the new nurse.
"Hello, I'm Dazai. What's your name?" He smiled innocently at the man, putting on a friendly and disarming persona.
The other man did not look at all fooled by his shy act but nonetheless responded with a straight expression.
"Fukuzawa." He answered simply, obviously intending that to be the end of their one-on-one conversation. Dazai, however, was not going to comply.
"Not doctor Fukuzawa?" He inquired, genuinely curious.
"I'm a social worker."
"Oh?" Dazai was about to ask more but quieted down as Yosano came in with the last of the patients, ushering them in and closing the door to the room shut behind her.
Yosano sat down on the opposite side of the circle from Fukuzawa and himself, holding herself as domineering as always. Once everyone was seated, she began.
"Good morning everyone, my name is Dr. Yosano, as some of you already know. Let's start off this morning like we do every day; go around the circle and state your name, age, what you hope to get out of your stay here, and… Let's go with a favorite color today. We'll start with Kenji." She crossed her legs, resting a clipboard and notebook above her knee.
The blonde haired boy to her right startled at his name being called. As Yosano started writing on her notepad, he smiled and introduced himself.
This was always a fairly boring part of inpatient care. People were coming and going everyday, so they had to start each morning with the same childish exercise. Dazai could probably recite his own introduction without even thinking about it, and he didn't really care about anyone else's.
"Hi everyone! My name is Kenji and I'm 14. I hope that after I leave here, I will have better coping mechanisms and learn more self control. My favorite color is blue." Kenji smiled pleasantly at the room, sitting cross legged on his chair.
Most responses were like this; boring.
Dazai would zone out if he could, but unfortunately he was cursed with a brain that was intensely present at every moment. Despite not caring about anyone else in the circle, he felt the need to listen to everyone so he knew exactly what was going on in all possible situations to come. He liked having the knowledge.
When Kenji was finished, Yosano nodded for the next person to go, still writing her morning notes into her book. He wondered briefly if she wrote down actually valuable information or just rants about the patients. Probably both.
"Edogawa Ranpo, 17. I'm here to get my OCD under control. Favorite color's green." This kid was quicker, though not in a rude or impatient way. He simply stated the facts as if he was as bored as Dazai is.
After him, a shorter girl with long black hair quietly introduced herself.
"Izumi Kyouka. I just turned 14. I want to learn better coping skills and my favorite color is red." She blushed, but stared blankly into space as she gave her response.
Most everyone usually had the same thing they want to get out of therapy, or at least something very similar. Many people usually also had similar reasons for being admitted here, if Yosano were to ask that question.
Next was Akutagawa, who sat stiffly and awkwardly, coughing into his fist a little before he began.
"Akutagawa. I'm 15. My favorite color is black and I'm here," The raven haired teen lets out a deep sigh, "to learn better coping mechanisms."
Dazai wanted to groan out loud.
He thought that at least Akutagawa would say something different, but he also just recycled the same old reasons for being here. Yosano did not look impressed with his response either, but nodded her head for the next person to go without comment.
Luckily, sitting right next to Akutagawa was;
"Nakahara Chuuya. I'm 16 and my favorite color is red. What I hope to get out of my stay here is… more control over my anger."
Dazai snorts.
Chuuya's eyes snap to him in a glare as Dazai tries to stifle his chuckles at that. Of course that's why the chibi is stuck in here. Anger issues. His bruising shin is a testament to how bad the program is failing poor Chuuya.
"Dazai." Yosano barks a warning, raising an eyebrow at him as he finally gets himself to shut up. Chuuya is silently fuming in his seat, but makes no move to retaliate. Probably to show the supposed 'control' over his anger issues.
"Sorry Yosano."
"It's Dr. Yosano. And it's not me you should apologize to." She gives him a pointed look.
Dazai rolls his eyes, "My deepest apologies Chuuya-kun."
His violent roommate blushes (Dazai is very happy with how easy it is to make him blush), and mutters out a barely heard 'whatever', crossing his arms and sinking into his seat. The girl sitting next to him straightens up in her seat, obviously eager to have her turn.
"Hi! My name is Naomi. I'm 16 years old. My favorite color is orange. I'm here for better coping skills."
So eager and yet so boring. Dazai yawns as he patiently waits for his turn, but before him is Fukuzawa.
"Good morning everyone. I'm Fukuzawa Yukichi. I'm far too old to say, and my hope is that I can help get you kids back out into the world with all the tools you'll need. Ah, and my favorite color is blue." He finally gives the room a polite smile, although his face still remains mostly impassive.
Finally, it's Dazai's turn.
"Lovely to meet you all, my name is Dazai Osamu. I'm 16 years old and I don't have a favorite color but if I had to choose, I'd say yellow."
He grins with all of his teeth, pointedly avoiding the last question to build suspense and drama. Dazai has always been a bit of a performer.
Yosano sighs, having no choice but to indulge him.
"And what do you hope to gain from this experience, Dazai-kun?"
Dazai's smile becomes more pointed and shark-like as he responds, "I hope to commit the perfect suicide so I don't end up back here again."
Some sharp inhales of breath are taken around the circle as he stares directly into Yosano's eyes, daring her to challenge him.
She was one of the only nurses that was always willing to take him on, though.
"Osamu," His grin drops to a scowl when she uses his first name, "What would be a so called 'perfect suicide' for you?"
He blinks in surprise for only a moment before his fake smile lights up his face again.
She's playing along for now, but why? She's a smart woman. She must have some kind of plan in action.
He will play along as well, until he figures it out.
"Why, it would be a painless double suicide with a beautiful lady, of course," He sighs wistfully, playing up the dramatics.
"Painless? I would've thought you wouldn't mind a little pain." She gazes pointedly at his bandaged arms, which makes him subconsciously cross his arms and rub the cloth slightly for comfort.
He kept on his fake smile, it only growing bigger and tighter as he thought of how to approach this.
Yosano really didn't pull any punches.
Sometimes he wondered who the hell gave her a doctorate and a job working with troubled teens. They surely didn't do it with the good of the children in mind.
"Yes, well, a little pain is a sacrifice worthy of such a beautiful death."
"Hmm. But it wouldn't be your 'perfect' suicide then, would it? Since it's not painless."
The smile had slowly slipped off of Dazai's face as he turned his expression into one of blank nothingness. He was rubbing at fabric just above his recent wounds, feeling at the stitches that were still in place there.
"I introduced myself. My turn is over now." He finished coldly, no longer willing to play this game.
Yosano hummed, looking displeased.
Why should she be upset though? Didn't she win their little battle of wits? Dazai stared at her, expressionless until she nodded and turned her eyes to the person directly next to Dazai. His cheerful attitude from the morning had dissipated in a matter of seconds.
People always asked how he could ever possibly want to kill himself.
'Life is such a gift!', they would say, 'Why would you waste it?'
Dazai would argue that it was not a gift, but a curse.
He was not wasting it, he was simply giving himself mercy. Life was painful. Why should he prolong his own suffering? It was always going to be painful, from birth until death.
Other people's reason to live was simply that: tolive.
Well Dazai experienced living and it sucked. It was just pain and hurt forever. Any time there was a possibility of happiness or joy, or that pleasure that everyone preached about so much, it was always taken away and replaced with pain. It never lasted. That brief happiness was always fleeting and ripped away viciously.
Anything I would never want to lose will be lost. It is given that everything that is worth wanting will be lost the moment I obtain it. There's nothing worth pursuing at the cost of prolonging a life of suffering.
But if he hated pain so much, then why…?
Dazai looked down at his bandaged arms. Even though white fabric was covering his skin, he could still clearly see the numerous scars that littered his body in his mind. Some were from suicide attempts, but some were just self harm. Just cutting and burning and picking with no goal of death.
For someone who claimed to despise pain, he was certainly the biggest hypocrite of them all.
The real truth was that he craved pain almost as much as he craved death. The rush he would get seeing his own blood flow, or hurting himself so bad that he saw stars; that's when he truly felt alive.
Yes, life was indeed painful. So Dazai never felt more alive than when he was in pain.
He was brought out of his musings by the timid voice of the white haired boy sitting next to him. Dazai dully brought his eyes up to examine the other, wanting to get out of his own thoughts.
"M-my name is Nakajima Atsushi. I-I'm 15 and I hope t-to learn how to live normally with anxiety."
Despite the empty feeling inside of him, Dazai made sure to take note of the people that didn't spew out the copy-pasted response to what they wanted out of therapy. He regarded Atsushi curiously, trying to push away his inner thoughts about his own situation for now.
"And your favorite color?" Yosano prompted, giving him a soft, encouraging smile.
Atsushi startled and hurried to respond, "R-right! Sorry, uh, my favorite color is purple. Sorry."
He shrunk in on himself as he spoke, even though he was just saying something as simple as a favorite color. Dazai nudged the others foot with his own, causing the white haired boy to look over at him. He gave the boy a small grin, relieved when Atsushi seemed to relax slightly at the sight. The boy smiled cautiously back.
"Uh hi," The next person began, drawing their attention back to the circle, "I'm Lucy. Lucy Montgomery. I'm 15 and my favorite color is pink. I hope that being here will teach me how to live normally with schizophrenia."
That's always fun. In Dazai's experience, people with schizophrenia or anger issues were the ones more likely to have an episode.
While it probably made him a terrible person, he was at least glad that this inpatient stay wouldn't be too boring. Thinking that though, Dazai had to hold in a chuckle.
Saying that thought 'probably' made him a terrible person was laughable. He is a terrible person. That much was quite obvious.
"My name is Poe. I'm 17. My favorite color is black. I'd like to learn more coping skills besides poetry."
The boy who had gone then was carrying with him a few different notebooks, probably all filled with this poetry he'd spoken of.
The facility gave out little notebooks if you asked for them. Writing, drawing, doodling, anything that was constructive and creative was encouraged. There was always a box full of markers and crayons on a few of the tables during free time. Dazai wasn't really much of an artist or writer, preferring to spend his free time playing card games with the other patients or finding ways to annoy the staff.
After him, there was only one more person left to introduce themself, another familiar face that Dazai had noticed earlier but pointedly ignored because the kid freaked him out.
"You can call me Q. I'm 13 and my favorite color is red. I'm here for those coping skills everyone is talking about."
The creepy fucker smiled brightly, lighting up the whole room with cuteness that would have been convincing if Dazai didn't know how weird they were.
Perhaps he was being a bit unfair. They were just a kid, but they were odd in a uniquely disturbing way.
Last time the two were inpatient together was around three months ago, although he'd also seen them at another inpatient once before that as well, a little over a year ago. The kid had practically imprinted on Dazai, seeing him as a role model, which they absolutely shouldn't.
Dazai was not the kind of guy kids should look up to, but Q was just as fucked up as him, so of course the little fucker latched on.
Dazai felt a little bit guilty about it. Sure the kid was already a huge mess when they came in, but they didn't start self-harming until after they'd met Dazai and seen his scars.
It was part of the reason he preferred to hide his arms with bandages even when he wasn't currently injured. As terrible a person as he admitted to being, he really didn't want to be responsible for influencing another kid to start cutting.
Q looked at Dazai with stars in their eyes, giving him a toothy grin which Dazai did not return.
The only way he could think of to put off the kid was by being cold and cruel towards them, but it didn't work much. He tried to be stern and make it very obvious that he hated them, but Q didn't seem to care in the slightest.
"Good morning everyone, I'm Dr. Yosano. I'm 29 and my favorite color is purple. You all know what I want out of this." The doctor grinned wryly, looking up from her notes to start the group, "Alright, now that we've all introduced ourselves, let's get into today's session. A lot of you stated that you were hoping to learn some more healthy coping mechanisms while in here. Does anyone know why healthy coping mechanisms are so important?"
The girl next to Atsushi, Lucy, responded, "They help us survive in the real world."
"And how do they do that?" Yosano prompted, looking at Lucy but directing the question to the whole circle.
"Is it because they give us a way to control our emotions? They… help us cope with life so that we can function n-normally?" Atsushi raised his hand as he spoke shyly, phrasing his answers as if he was unsure of himself, which he probably was.
"In a way, yes, you are correct. Coping mechanisms are strategies that we use to deal with stress, trauma, and difficult emotions. Notice how I said 'deal with' because it is impossible to completelycontrol your emotions. Learning how to react properly to the emotions you feel does help you to function in regular society. That is one of the reasons we brought Fukuzawa in today; to talk about re-entering and living as a contributing member of society."
The doctor nodded to the older man to start talking, and so he did.
"Healthy coping mechanisms are something you'll need to have when you get out of here." Fukuzawa's calm voice recited, "I'm sure most of you already know and use some every day. Would anyone like to share some of the coping skills that have helped them?"
Poe made a choked noise, lifting up his notebooks for everyone to see, although his eyes were hidden behind his bangs so Dazai couldn't quite make out his expression.
"Writing."
"Yes, that is a good one, and very common. Anyone else?"
To his surprise, Chuuya spoke up for the first time since introducing himself earlier. The little firecracker refused to meet his gaze, looking at Fukuzawa instead. Although he could tell that Chuuya wasn't meeting his eyes on purpose.
"Working out is a healthy coping skill. It's good for your physical and mental health." He spoke politely, although his eyebrow twitched as he surely caught Dazai's amused smirk out of the corner of his eye.
"Very good. Exercise is a wonderful coping mechanism. Although as with anything, too much of it can become a problem." Fukuzawa nodded to Chuuya.
"Yeah, you can get addicted to exercising!" Kenji chimed in, "I met a lot of people at another clinic that had trouble because they were anorexic and addicted to exercise. Since they didn't eat enough to fuel their activity, it was actually more dangerous for them to work out."
"Exactly. To make it a healthy coping mechanism, it must also be done for the right reasons and not obsessively. Usually people with eating disorders overwork themselves as another method of losing weight. This just means you have to have the right intentions for using whichever skills you decide to use. What are some other examples coping mechanisms that can turn unhealthy? Or any bad coping mechanisms in general?"
Dazai sat up straighter. It was his time to shine. He knew unhealthy coping mechanisms better than anyone.
"Drinking, drugs, reckless sex, self-harm. They make everything bad but they are much more fun," He smiled lazily at the older man, "And don't ask me why they're bad, I know. They don't help solve any of your problems, they only make things even worse."
Fukuzawa hummed, "Correct. They cause moreproblems without dealing with the underlying issue. So how do healthy coping mechanisms come into all this? How can writing poetry or working out help you cope with the problems you have?"
Nobody answered right away, thinking it over or not paying attention. Dazai didn't really feel like answering although he knew the answer, and it looked like some others were similarly bored.
It was silent for a second longer before Akutagawa coughed.
"They let you work through your thoughts." The glum teen answered, sniffing.
"They do. In the same way therapy makes you reflect on your thoughts in a constructive way, coping mechanisms give you time to help organize your emotions so that you don't lash out in other ways."
Yosano took that moment to get back into the conversation.
"It's important to know why we do the things we do. Taking the time to look inward and figure out why we reacted in certain ways when struggling with certain emotions is a huge part of recovery, because if we understand our actions better, we can control what we do differently in the future." The young woman smiled reassuringly at the group, which was how Dazai knew another round of personal questions would be coming up, "Let's go around the circle again and talk about why we're here. What actions led you to being admitted into this facility? Why did you choose those responses and what could you have done instead? We don't want to force anyone into something they're not comfortable with, so if you don't want to answer this question, you can just say 'pass', although I must say participating would be more helpful to your recovery process."
This time they went in reverse order around the circle, starting with Q who was no longer smiling, just looking at Yosano with those big round eyes.
As messed up as the kid was… They were still just a kid.
Dazai despised them, but he could also sympathize with their unwillingness to open up. After all, Dazai had been the same way when he first started being forced into therapy. The only reason he complied now was because resistance was pointless anyway.
"Pass." They mumbled, holding a stuffed animal that Dazai miraculously hadn't noticed earlier close to their chest.
Yosano said nothing, only giving the child a smile and nodding, looking towards the next person to continue.
"Uh, pass." Poe responded as well.
It seemed this group was not super talkative. How disappointing.
The schizophrenic girl was next. Hopefully she'd have an interesting story.
"I-I had an episode. I was hallucinating and thought it wasn't real, so I took a bunch of pills without realizing. I'm not suicidal, I swear! I just didn't know I was actually doing it…"
Not suicidal? Boooooring.
Yosano nodded encouragingly, "And do you take medication for your hallucinations?"
"Yes but…" Lucy shrugged her shoulders inwards sheepishly, "I ran out and forgot to request a refill. I was off of them for a few days."
"It's very dangerous to suddenly stop taking your pills, Lucy. Did your parents know you had run out?" Fukuzawa interjected, a serious frown on his face.
Lucy looked like she was not at all enjoying all of the attention being on her for longer than she'd thought. She gulped, grimacing.
"My mom is too busy to keep track of things like that."
"For the next time something like this happens, perhaps try setting an alarm on your phone as a reminder, or having your pharmacy automatically refill the prescription, to prevent making the same mistakes." Yosano suggested in a way that could have easily sounded condescending, but she made sound just like helpful advice.
The schizophrenic girl jerked her head in a nod, blushing now that all eyes were on her and all ears were listening to her story. She quickly looked away from everyone, biting her lip.
"Okay." She replied quietly, clearly wanting to be done with her turn.
The white haired boy in between Dazai and her seemed to take pity and took that as his sign to go. Atsushi's leg was bouncing up and down rapidly as he sat, his hands fiddling with the bottom of his shirt. He started to answer, only to backtrack once he began.
"I'm, uh, actually I'd like to pass. If that's okay."
"That's fine Atsushi-kun." Yosano reassured, turning her steely gaze to Dazai. He grinned back at her, happy to belay his own story.
"I was taken here straight from the hospital after another failed suicide attempt. I think I would have succeeded had my father not come home early from his business trip and found me on time. I tried to kill myself because I want to die." He stated easily, not at all ashamed or shy about his choices, "If I could do something differently next time, I would probably have locked the bathroom door or maybe tried to cut deeper. I thought the arteries in my wrists and throat would be enough but I didn't go deep enough on my throat because my arms were starting to get weaker at that point."
Some of the faces around the circle stared back at him in horror, like Atsushi and Chuuya, while others were completely impassive, like Ranpo and Akutagawa. Yosano herself looked back at him with an unreadable expression, writing something down in her notes. Dazai just kept on smirking through that fake smile as he waited for someone else to inevitably speak up.
"Why did you want to die, Dazai?" Yosano eventually asked calmly.
Dazai sighed dramatically, making vague gestures with his hand.
"Well you see I was molested as a young boy and raised by a neglectful, abusive father. I never had a mother. Also I've been diagnosed with numerousmental disorders through various doctors, so I'm not sure which ones I actually have. Those probably all led me to being the way I am." He waved it off flippantly.
In truth, over the years he'd been diagnosed with nearly every major mental disorder, because some psychiatrists sucked at their jobs and falsely diagnosed and treated him.
He'd been put on so many medications for different things that he couldn't remember what life was like when he was unmedicated. Perhaps he didn't have any mental illness at all, and all of this was just the medications fault. He was deemed too unstable to be taken off of them though, so he might never know unless he tests it out himself. He preferred to abuse his prescriptions to get high, but he could try abstaining from them altogether. It would probably be marginally better than the drug induced nightmares that taking too much lamotrigine gave him.
"Those are things that happened to you that contributed to the way you feel, but they are not the root problem. Why is death your solution to the problems these have caused you?"
"Death would bring an end to it all. I wouldn't have to deal with the fact that my life is a mess if I were dead. It would put an end to all my problems."
Talking about himself was exhausting. It was much easier nodding along to whatever they say, rather than having to be introspective. Luckily, the doctor seemed to realize that one group session was not going to change his mind about anything.
"Suicide doesn't get rid of any of your problems, it only eliminates the possibility of getting better." Yosano continued with an infuriatingly controlled tone, "But perhaps this is something you can work on more in individual therapy. For now let's just say that if you think you're going to hurt yourself again, instead of avoiding your feelings, ask for help."
Instead of verbally responding, Dazai just shrugged noncommittally. Maybe if he actually wanted help, he would ask for it.
But that's not what he wanted.
He figured it was best to keep that thought to himself so that they could move the conversation along. That should be more than enough to keep the questions at bay for a few days, or at least until he'd have to have a one-on-one session.
They skipped over Fukuzawa next, as he was only there to assist the doctor, and moved on to Naomi, who had her arm crossed over her chest and was looking extremely uncomfortable, glancing over to Dazai every few seconds.
"Uh, p-pass." She stuttered, quickly avoiding eye contact with him once he made it apparent that we was aware of her staring.
Instead of making the girl any more uncomfortable, Dazai focused on the fascinating redhead next to her, who was also looking at Dazai. When they locked eyes, his gaze did not flicker away like another persons would have. Instead, his stunning blue eyes pierced right back through Dazai's dull brown ones, for once not betraying anything that the boy was thinking.
Chuuya started talking without breaking their stare-down, "I had a blackout and attacked a kid. I couldn't have done anything differently. I didn't choose to blackout."
Dazai couldn't help but raise his eyebrows, betraying his own interest in the other boy.
He'd been doing this therapy thing for a long time now, but he'd never met someone who gets blackouts. Sure, he'd heard about it, but he'd never actually met someone who got them. Well, someone who got them naturally and not just from drinking too much.
"Do you take any medications for your blackouts?" Yosano asked, like any good doctor would.
"I do now." Chuuya responded, finally looking away from Dazai to pay closer attention to the doctor. "We knew I had problems with impulse control, but we didn't know for sure that I get actual blackouts until I hurt that guy."
"Well that's good. The most you can do in that situation is take as many preventative measures as you can." Fukuzawa responded before Yosano could add any more.
Chuuya jerked his head in a way that resembled a nod, not looking entirely happy with the advice. He said nothing else.
Akutagawa, Kyouka, and Ranpo all passed, either out of a desire not to speak or something else. Dazai doubted it was because of insecurity, they probably just either weren't ready to talk or didn't feel like it. Sometimes people just want to listen.
Kenji had shown himself to be very open so far though, so it was no surprise when he answered the group question as truthfully as he could, although his voice was much quieter than it had been when he opened up before.
"I have an eating disorder and it's gotten pretty bad. I didn't eat for a few days and passed out in the street while I was taking a walk. My parents decided that was a sign for me to get professional help, so here I am."
"I'm assuming you know what you did wrong and what to do in the future to prevent that from happening again. But why did you come here instead of an eating disorder clinic?" Yosano questioned Kenji, tilting her head in confusion.
"I've also had some pretty glum thoughts lately," Kenji started, looking embarrassed. "It's so hard to recover from an eating disorder, and I've caused so much trouble for my family. It would be easier for them if I wasn't around."
"So you've been feeling suicidal as well?"
The blonde immediately shook his head, making an 'x' with his arms, "No way! I don't want to kill myself or anything like that. I just think if I were to suddenly die, it wouldn't be such a bad thing."
The circle was quiet as they processed that.
Dazai could not relate.
Being dead would be fantastic, yes, but he also didwant to kill himself. He could not imagine an existence where he wanted to die but was not willing to do the work himself.
When he wanted something, he went to all lengths to get it. Passively desiring death did not sound appealing at all.
"I know it doesn't seem like those thoughts are important because you're not actively suicidal, but having thoughts like that at all is cause for concern Kenji." Yosano smiled sympathetically.
"You should talk more in depth about them with your personal therapist, even though I understand if you'd rather focus on recovering from your eating disorder first." Fukuzawa added.
"Sure!" Kenji chirped, back to his usual self, "I would like to talk about them with someone. I don't likethinking like this."
Another thing Dazai couldn't exactly relate to.
Did he like being suicidal?
Dazai didn't really like anything. He had no passions or desires other than committing suicide. He disliked quite a lot of things, but not his own thoughts. Or did he?
What would life be like, Dazai wondered, if he wasn't living in misery?
Was it possible for someone like him to be content with life? Did he want to try and be that kind of person?
Dazai didn't know the answers to those questions.
Lost in thought, he didn't notice the rest of the group returning the room to normal until a short ginger kid nudged his foot and he glanced up into those crystalline eyes.
"Oi, stop being lazy and move your chair." Chuuya looked down at him, an unamused look on his face.
Dazai's lip quirked up in a smirk as he noted that even though he was sitting down, Chuuya was only just tall enough to look down at him. The lankier boy put on his usual carefree persona to respond.
"I don't feel like it! Why don't you move me?" He egged the other boy on, testing just how much control Chuuya really had over his anger.
Chuuya narrowed his eyes and looked like he was about to say something else but shook his head and moved past him instead.
There was only a second for Dazai to be disappointed at the lack of reaction before he was suddenly pulled backwards with a yelp. The chuckles coming from behind him made him turn his head to see Chuuya's grinning face as he pulled the back of Dazai's chair away from the circle.
Ignoring the humiliating little noise of surprise he'd just made, Dazai smirked back.
"Ah, what a good dog; doing as he's told. Does this make me your master?"
"Bitch!" Chuuya growled, abruptly yanking the chair away and causing Dazai to fall off of it and onto the floor.
"Nakahara!" Yosano barked, glaring at the pair.
Whatever joy had been on Chuuya's face at inconveniencing Dazai quickly disappeared. Rather than being repentant though, he looked innocently at the doctor.
"What? He fell on his own. Clumsy bastard."
Yosano squinted at the two of them, clearly not believing the act, but one look down at Dazai and the displeasure on her face switched to hidden glee. She gave Chuuya a wink.
"He certainly is. But no more cursing, okay?"
Dazai squawked in disbelief, blinking between the two as they shared a secret smile. His jaw dropped in a dramatic display and he brought a hand up to his head.
"Such cruelty! I can hardly believe the injustice!" He bemoaned, slumping all the way down to lay on the floor.
"Stop whining and get off the floor you worthless mackerel." Chuuya nudged his leg with his foot once again.
"Chibi-kun is so mean to me."
"Stop calling me that!"
"But you called me a fish!"
They bickered back and forth before Yosano had finally had enough and stepped in between them.
"Boys, enough." She sighed exasperatedly, "It's free time now. Go annoy each other away from me."
They stuck their tongues out at the doctor in unison, then gaped at each other in astonishment at their own synchronicity. Having enough of Chuuya being above him, Dazai got up off the floor and brushed off his borrowed clothes, going back to looking down at Chuuya. As it should be.
The look in the other's eyes mirrored his own. A look filled with fire and excitement, as well as vague annoyance. There was a peculiar feeling making its way through Dazai's body, one that he had to suppress a shiver for.
Dazai would gladly annoy Chuuya for the rest of his stay.