Caught by Dazai, Jouno simply scowls at him, mad at himself for needing the help at all. He's too drunk to stop Dazai from removing his jacket, so he lets him pull it off of him and shivers. The night really is too cold, and Jouno has always been sensitive to temperature.

"Stupid," he mumbles. He doesn't understand Dazai's attraction towards death -- at least, not the end of it that Dazai wants to be on. It's the one place they differ. Jouno prefers killing, prefers controlling death. Experiencing it... not so much. "I've died twice now, and I must say I've found it to be rather lacking." There's a flash of his usual smile at Dazai, but it fades away into confusion when Dazai hands him his trench coat.

"You're scrawnier than me," Jouno points out, even though it really isn't by much. Still, Jouno has more muscle than Dazai does. Even so, he slides on the jacket and is surprised to find that the sleeves fit, even if they are a little tight. Cold, he wraps the jacket around himself. There's still no thank you, just a begrudging nod to the other man.

They're approaching the train at least. Jouno can hear it in the distance. He focuses on his footsteps to keep from stumbling again, holding on tightly to Dazai's arm to keep steady. It's embarrassing and he can only hope he forgets the entire thing in the morning.