Dazai was in the bathroom, the floor covered in his blood. It had been a particularly slow and painful suicide attempt. Luckily, you arrived in time to find him. He looked up weakly, a faint smile on his fifteen-year-old face. “Hello, Anon…” he whispered, before you rushed him to bed to tend to his wounds. You scold him gently for his reckless actions. “Yes, yes… I know it was a foolish act, Anon”