Chapter 52 Countdown: Two Days

I soon decided to part ways with Dazai Osamu.

When he heard me leaving, he asked, "Are you leaving so early today?"

"Yes."

I left my seat, put my feet on the bar floor, and when I paid for the juice, I hesitated for half a second before paying for his drink as well.

Dazai Osamu looked at me, but he didn't express any intention to keep me. He was just complaining, "It's so boring without you talking to me, Kazuki."

I shrugged: "You can chat with... with the new bartender. Mr. Dazai, you're always good at this kind of thing."

He stared at me without moving, and asked again, "Where are you going?"

I said, "Let's go eat."

Osamu Dazai: "..."

Dazai Osamu: "I thought it was something important."

I frowned slightly, feigning displeasure: "Mr. Dazai, eating is the most important thing."

Then Dazai Osamu went with me.

We chose a Western restaurant.

To be precise, I was the one who chose this Western restaurant; Dazai Osamu didn't offer any opinions at all, and he just followed me the whole way.

Only when he stopped in front of the door did he say, "A Western restaurant?"

I nodded: "Mm."

I really want to eat dessert right now.

I'm not a typical sweet tooth, but that doesn't stop sweets from making me happy on many occasions.

Dazai Osamu followed me inside, and we sat down by the window. There was no sunlight on that side, but there was a faint glow of sunset.

The crimson color, like rust, reflected off his bandages, making them appear somewhat reddish. At first glance, it was even a bit frightening, as if stained with blood.

“I remember now,” Dazai Osamu suddenly said.

I was looking at the menu when he spoke, so I looked up at him with a puzzled expression.

When their eyes met, he smiled slightly and said, "It's the restaurant that treated me to cake last time."

I was taken aback, feeling somewhat confused, but what he said was indeed true, so I nodded: "Yes."

Then, Dazai Osamu blinked, looking earnest and expectant: "How about you treat me to cake again?"

I:"……"

While it's not impossible, Dazai Osamu's request was so blunt that I didn't know what to say for a moment.

"Okay." I nodded, somewhat speechless.

"I knew you wouldn't refuse."

He smiled and gently stroked his chin with his fingertips, muttering softly, "But as a kind person, I can't very well let Huo Jun treat me to a meal for nothing."

“No,” I interrupted him, retorting, “Mr. Dazai, you don’t need to feel embarrassed. Asking someone to treat you to a meal is something you can absolutely do.”

The instant I heard him say that, I wasn't surprised at all; my first reaction was simply—

As expected of Dazai-sensei.

He clutched his chest, his pain contrived: "It's truly heartbreaking to see me like this, sir."

I'm sorry to say something that hurts you.

As I spoke, I beckoned the waiter over and passed on the order. Turning to look at him, I asked, "If Mr. Dazai could tell me what you would do to make up for feeling embarrassed—I might take back what I said after hearing your answer."

I didn't really take those words to heart. I remember when we were talking at Lupin Bar, it was like we were having a verbal battle. My unfamiliarity and defensiveness made me so meticulous that I wanted to analyze every single word he said.

I don't know when it happened, but the style of our conversations gradually veered off course and became what it is now.

"Hmm... what I was thinking at the time was—as a thank you or to treat me to cake, I could reluctantly agree to do you a favor?"

His voice rose slightly at the end, conveying an uncertain, tentative tone.

But never readily believe Dazai Osamu's tone, because his performance will always be more dramatic than his reality.

But ignoring his performance, I was still taken aback by his words.

"I may have to say it again," I said, my smile probably the most genuine I'd had all day. "It's my pleasure, Mr. Dazai."

****

The only interesting thing was that I met Fyodor.

I hadn't left the restaurant yet; I was still sitting face to face with Osamu Dazai.

He was complaining to me about his boss, Mori Ougai, and also slightly belittled Nakahara Chuuya—although I felt that his belittling of Nakahara Chuuya was illogical, so I couldn't help but ask, "Dazai-san, aren't you just a mindless hater of Nakahara-san?"

Another reason might be that I mentioned Oda Sakunosuke earlier, and he also talked about Oda Sakunosuke's writing process.

I wouldn't say I listened very attentively, but at least I didn't lose focus.

I would glance at Dazai Osamu, and then occasionally look around, that is, I would glance around unintentionally. In the moment I looked away, I saw Fyodor walk into the store.

He was exactly the same as I remembered him, truly exactly the same, because even his outfit remained unchanged from beginning to end.

White woolen hat, coat, boots.

They are always wrapped up in fluffy fur, as if they came out of the snow.

I instinctively flinched, but not from panic; rather, I was more surprised, along with some other rather complex emotions.

Dazai Osamu noticed my unusual behavior and looked over at me.

"Creditor?...or enemy?"

My emotional response was probably not good, which is why he skipped over "friend" and focused on guessing our relationship based on words that weren't exactly positive.

Seeing that I didn't answer, he continued to speculate: "—Could it be your ex-boyfriend??"

"???" I was completely confused, thinking to myself, what kind of thought process is this? I quickly denied it, "No."

"I wouldn't call him a creditor." I thought to myself, if I had to say, it would be Fyodor who owes me money.

"But as for enemies... I guess they really could be considered enemies."

Logically speaking, the most serious enmity is one that results in death.

"It's hard to imagine that someone like you could have enemies."

He was curious and turned to look at Fyodor again.

Feeling our frequent stares, Fyodor also happened to look over. He looked at me first, and I met his gaze with a blank expression. He didn't react in any particular way.

As it landed on Dazai Osamu, it paused slightly and smiled. I turned to look at Dazai Osamu and found that his smile was even brighter.

Fyodor found a seat and sat down, without making a point of choosing a seat close to us because of the eye contact we had just exchanged.

“It’s a pity he doesn’t seem to know you,” Dazai Osamu said to me.

"We shouldn't have met in the first place."

I believe that Dazai Osamu understood what I meant, and I am certain that he understood what I said.

Because he smiled slightly, his eyes revealing curiosity about the unknown and novel.

I paid the bill.

Anyway, Dazai Osamu and I had already finished eating, so we just listened to him ramble on about the Port Mafia's arduous work.

As I stepped out of the Western restaurant, I brought up Fyodor again.

“He’s a very complex person,” I said seriously, “just like his name.”

Dazai Osamu blinked and asked, "What's his name?"

I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.

Dazai Osamu raised an eyebrow, his doubt deepening: "Hmm?"

"His name is a bit long, I can't remember it very well, let me think about it."

"..."

As I walked, I pondered: Fedor... then Mihajlovic? Or Ivelocic?

Then I repeated Mihajlovic and Mihajlovic back and forth two or three times, and finally concluded that the middle name Mihajlovic was easier to pronounce and more familiar.

“Dazai-san, I’m sure.” I stopped in my tracks and turned to look at Dazai Osamu, who was also looking down at me.

"Fyodor Mikhailovich Dostoevsky".

"That's his name."

Osamu Dazai: "..."

****

I went to see Atsushi Nakajima again.

My recent routine consists of sneaking into unnoticed corners to find him, while I ponder in solitude how to successfully bring this identity, which I say is my last pseudonym, to a perfect close.

"Dun, do you have any wishes?" I asked him.

His eyes lit up, but soon dimmed again.

He looked at me, hesitated for a moment, and then asked, "But...can my wish really come true?...or?"

They were cautious, like a trapped tiger cub.

In that instant, this description came to mind in a strange way.

“Yes, it’s possible.” I nodded and said very softly, “Because I’m here, it’s possible, Dun.”

If others saw this, they would probably think I was trying to coax a child, but I know very well that's not the case.

“I want to get out, I want to leave here, or…” He gripped the railing, looking at me with an expression that was rarely serious.

I:!

Yes, Dun, I wholeheartedly support you.

"That's great, Dun," I said with a hint of excitement, then calmed down after thinking about reality.

It's just that you keep doing human-tiger swaps every now and then, which is a bit ridiculous.

Atsushi Nakajima was also conflicted, but not in the same way as me. His fingers twisted together, his purplish-gold eyes were filled with confusion, but when they found my gaze, a faint glimmer of expectation appeared.

"Or, where do you think I could go if I left here?" he asked me.

Armed Detective Agency.

I immediately figured out the answer.

If you really are a superpowered individual, then the Armed Detective Agency would be perfect for you, Atsushi-kun.

“Maybe someone will adopt you, Dun?” I asked tentatively.

His gaze was fixed on me, and I could vaguely see his eyelashes tremble slightly, but the light was dim and I couldn't see it clearly.

Atsushi Nakajima said, "Or what?"

I:……

I really want to say, my good brother, don't worry about me. I'm sleeping soundly right now in a room you don't know about.

He pursed his lips, seemingly a little afraid of being rejected: "I want to be with or... I'd rather be with or than leave."

"..." I sighed silently and promised, "We'll leave together."