Osamu Dazai | Collab

Mori finally had gotten sick of his suicide attempts.

Or it could’ve been his constant bitching, either or.

But honestly, he was baffled for a moment. Sure, he’d been drinking a lot more, and staying out later in the night hooking with any random whore that’d take dick, that didn’t mean anything. Not to him, at least.

Though it was sure he finally pulled at Mori’s strings enough with his latest attempt, hanging himself inside his shipping container, kicking off the chair with glee as the rope tightened around his throat and cut off any oxygen that blessed his lungs.

How unfortunate that the slug was a snitch.

What a bitch.

After his most recent unsuccessful attempt, he ended up in the hospital again. His connections within the hospital ensured that his identity remained confidential. This process was supposed to be routine - he would make an attempt, face failure, end up in the hospital, and then return to working tirelessly like a dog as if nothing had happened.

Key word, supposed.

Instead, he was sent to inpatient care.

The hell was that anyways?

Before he could even set foot inside the building, he was subjected to a thorough search that left him feeling stripped down and uncomfortable. The intense scrutiny made for an unwelcoming introduction to the place.

He was given a list of rules, a schedule, and shoved into his room before he knew it.

He had blinked in surprise, it felt like the world was spinning and that he was about to be flung off it.

He was nearly dead 3 hours ago, so how did he end up here?

All he had left was his pants, shirt, and bandages, mostly. They took the one off his eye, and said it was “unnecessary.” His shoes were revoked as they didn’t permit laces. As if he could hang himself with those scrawny things anyways.

Mori had informed him in advance, just before he was dropped off, that Hirotsu would be dropping off a bag in about a week. A smile of amusement formed on his lips as he listened to Mori, who seemed to assume that he would still be around in a week.

With no roommate to bother currently, though stuff filling the cubby indicating there was one, was absent. The place was clearly very low staff..and honestly, disgusting. Nobody would have wanted to come here as their first choice.

A cobweb in the corner of his room, clear bite marks on one of the beds metal frames..safe to say he avoided that bed.

He flung himself onto the bed, feeling the searing pain from the jagged lines under his bandages, yearning to rip them off. As he lay there, he gazed at the ceiling in a daze, his mind swirling as he tried to process the events of the last three hours.

This was exasperating, Mori found the situation to be utterly exasperating. He firmly believed that he didn't need any assistance, and frankly, he didn't want any either. It was quite apparent to him that help simply wasn't necessary. Inflicting a few cuts and indulging in a few drinks did not warrant all this commotion. There was absolutely no chance that he would pour his heart out to a complete stranger.

Not if they weren’t Odasaku.

He took a deep breath, shutting his eyes tightly to block out the world around him. He fought back the overwhelming pressure welling up behind his closed eyelids. Refusing to show any weakness, he reminded himself that he was not one to shed tears

He instead shook those thoughts off, returning to a more important topic.

He’s 18, is Mori even allowed to do this? Can he just get out, it kind of stinks in here. Oh that might be him–

A bell interrupted his thoughts, well a scratchy tune that clearly needed a fix. It was oddly familiar, to that one horror game with the bear, y’know when you hit 6am?-

Not important.

He sat up in the hard bed, casting a quick glance at the swaying curtain as he picked up the sound of people's footsteps passing by. As he rose to his feet, his own steps made no sound, thanks to the snug, fuzzy socks that he had been given.

A devious smile graced his lips as he opened the curtain.

Oh, this will be fun. New people to torment? Sign him up.

⊱ ──────ஓ๑∗๑ஓ ────── ⊰

As he made his way through the sterile, antiseptic-scented hallways, he paid little attention to the curious glances he received from some of the nurses, particularly the unsettling leer from the man stationed at the reception desk..Pervert.

His gaze moved slowly across the small clusters of people at the individual tables. In the corner, there was a table occupied by a group of older women, spanning ages from their twenties to even their forties.

The cafeteria was a bustling mix of students. The younger teens kept to one side, while the younger "adults" like himself gathered in the center of the cafeteria.

His eyes landed on a particular sight.

You.

Nobody else surrounded your sides, in fact, everybody seemed to leave you alone. Aw, poor boy. All alone.

His eyes immediately strayed your skin.

Ah, a fellow self-harmer. Aka, his first victim.

He sat down across from you with an unsettlingly energetic stride, flashing a sharp smile that didn't quite reach his cold eyes.

“So, you gonna listen to the voices and cut deeper?”

What a great first impression!