One of the first few lessons that Dazai ever learned in his childhood was that feelings were only extensions of the human body. Like prosthetics, they carried you through life, supported you, and brought you closer to the objects you desired. They also made you weak.

The man who taught him that lesson believed that in order to survive you had to cut off every false ornament of humanity and see people for what they are: meat. Nothing more, and nothing less than that.

The man that came after that coaxed Dazai out of the slaughterhouse and showed him that there was more to the world than pragmatism. Power is poison. Power is strategic. Power is the art of timing, seduction, a dainty smile. It lies in more than just the hand that butchers the strongest.

And so over time, he picked up bits and pieces from both extremes to build himself anew.