Chapter 22: The Double Black
Since that subtle "showdown," Dazai Osamu and Dazai Osamu—or rather, the consciousness that controls the body—seemed to have unlocked a new form of entertainment: he began to tirelessly perform the "guess who I am" act in front of Nakahara Chuuya.
“Yo, Chuuya-kun,” one afternoon, Dazai, who was reviewing documents, suddenly looked up. His iris-colored eyes held a cold, almost inorganic scrutiny that Chuuya had never seen before, and even his tone carried a strange indifference. “This report about the West Warehouse seems to have a logical problem. You… do you really think so?” He deliberately imitated the overly distant politeness and questioning style that Dazai Osamu would never use with Chuuya. But in reality, he was still himself, merely trying to better tease Nakahara Chuuya.
At first, this clumsy acting made Chuuya frown and a slight alarm bell ring in his heart.
However, when this so-called role-playing deception is performed too frequently—for example, suddenly speaking in an aria one day and claiming the next day that he has forgotten the name of his most hated dog—its effect is like the story of "The Boy Who Cried Wolf." It becomes so commonplace that it numbs one to the point that even if the two souls were to truly and quietly switch places due to uncontrollable rules, Chuuya Nakahara would find it difficult to tell the difference. Or rather, he simply couldn't be bothered to distinguish them anymore.
For most of the time, unless Dazai deliberately revealed a flaw, Chuuya Nakahara would simply conclude with a blank expression: it was that bastard Dazai Osamu honing his boring acting skills again, this time with even greater patience and dedication than before. The so-called "possession" was nothing more than a new trick to tease him.
Therefore, after being teased like this countless times, Nakahara Chuuya had become immune. At this moment, even if [Dazai Osamu] himself—or rather, the consciousness currently controlling the body—jumped around in front of him, exclaiming dramatically, "Oh dear~ Chuuya! I feel a strange soul squeezing in! Help me!", Nakahara Chuuya wouldn't even lift an eyelid, uttering in a flat, even slightly weary voice, "Get out of here, you boring bastard. If you keep acting like this, I'll throw you and your files out the window."
Chuuya was not the only victim of this "role-playing game." Others sometimes became the targets of pranks like those of Dazai Osamu and Dazai, such as Ryunosuke Akutagawa.
One day, the person he admired, Mr. Dazai, swept his gaze over him with a completely different look, even with a hint of arrogance and contempt, and coldly commented, "Rashomon? Ha, nothing more than that, a trick full of loopholes."
This completely different attitude instantly aroused Akutagawa's vigilance. The black beast's robes fluttered without wind; almost instinctively, he assumed a fighting stance, his pale fingers clenched into fists, his voice hoarse with tension: "You're not Dazai-san! Who are you?!"
Only when the cold facade on Dazai Osamu's face melted away like ice, revealing his usual indifferent and teasing smile, and announced in a light tone, "Just kidding, Akutagawa-kun~ testing your alertness," did Akutagawa recover from his initial shock and disbelief. His usually fiery black eyes were instantly flooded with deeper admiration and respect.
He bowed his head almost reverently, his voice trembling slightly: "As expected of Mr. Dazai... My cultivation is far from sufficient, and I was unable to see through even the slightest bit of your disguise."
However, what greeted this respect was a sigh of feigned regret from Dazai Osamu: "What a pity, Akutagawa-kun." He shrugged, his tone light and airy, yet it felt like a cold needle piercing Akutagawa's skin, "You failed my test."
After saying that, he turned and left as if he had finished the curtain call of an insignificant play, leaving Akutagawa standing there, gripped by immense loss and self-doubt, his regret almost materializing into a black aura that surrounded him.
The rules regarding control of the body remain random. However, Dazai Osamu (in both cases) gradually figured out some patterns: when acting as an observer, whether he could see the outside world depended on whether there was a mirror or a surface of water that refracted light onto [Dazai Osamu].
Without these, he would be isolated in that mysterious space, or fall into a dreamless slumber. The transfer of control would be completely unexpected, perhaps in the blink of an eye while picking up a coffee cup, or in the instant while chewing on a can of crab meat, the soul within his body would have already been replaced.
When he and Dazai Osamu's consciousness were trapped together in that abnormally fast-flowing space, studying those books that seemed to contain the mysteries of the universe became their only option, regardless of who they were.
Long-term observation confirmed their conjecture: time in this space was not synchronized with the outside world, and this difference was completely irregular. Sometimes, three hours might have passed outside, but only fifteen minutes had passed inside; other times, the opposite was true, as if a long day had passed inside, while only a few minutes had passed outside. This uncertainty itself became the norm that they had to adapt to.
In a mission fraught with unpredictability, this uncontrolled soul transfer might be a fatal threat to others, but for the two Dazai Osamu's, sharing the same body, the same thought patterns, and even most of their memories, it was merely a matter of needing a little more time to complete the mission. For this reason, they even developed a tacit understanding:
Before carrying out a critical mission, a secret code that only the other party can decipher is always left in an inconspicuous corner—it could be a piece of paper folded in a specific way, a special symbol drawn in a corner, or a seemingly insignificant word circled on a document—these codes silently outline the general direction of the mission and contingency plans.
A raid on a hostile organization's stronghold perfectly illustrated the advantages of this backup plan. The initial infiltration and intelligence gathering were led by [Dazai Osamu], a meticulously crafted operational plan already taking shape in his mind and beginning its initial execution. However, at the command node, an unexpected "switch" occurred.
Control had fallen into Dazai's hands. He stood at the temporary command post, his gaze quickly sweeping over the few documents scattered on the table, including a hastily drawn map and text written in distorted patterns known only to him—these were the codes left behind by [Dazai Osamu].
Almost without thinking, relying on his innate, or rather, shared with his counterpart, near-terrifying reasoning ability and intuition about the situation, [Dazai Osamu]'s intentions instantly and clearly surfaced in his mind, like puzzle pieces automatically putting into place. A knowing smile curled at the corner of his lips. Without the slightest pause, he immediately picked up the encrypted communicator and smoothly issued the adjusted instructions to his waiting subordinates, his speech fast and clear.
After making these arrangements, he hung up the communication and then focused his gaze precisely on Chuuya Nakahara, who was leaning against the heavy motorcycle and impatiently adjusting his gloves.
"Chuuya!" he shouted, his tone carrying an unquestionable air of authority, "We're in a hurry, drive fast!"
As they were talking, Dazai Osamu had already taken a few steps over, nimbly flipped over and sat on the back seat. As the other person clicked his tongue, his arms naturally wrapped around Chuuya's lean waist, even tightening a little bit.
"Huh?! Who wants to give you a ride, you bastard mackerel?!" Chuuya immediately bristled.
"Mission takes priority! This is an order from the officer!"
"Chuuya, charge like a puppy snatching food!" Dazai shouted in his ear in a provocative and excited tone.
"Shut up, you bastard!! If you don't want me to throw you off the car, you'd better keep quiet!"
"And, are you trying to die by holding on so tightly?!" Chuuya's roar was drowned out by the sudden roar of the engine. The black motorcycle, like a beast breaking free of its chains, instantly transformed into a blur of light tearing through the air as it sped away.
The astonishing speed caused the hem of Dazai Osamu's coat to flutter wildly backward, making a rustling sound, and his hair was violently pulled back by the strong wind. The surrounding scenery was distorted and elongated due to the extreme speed, finally turning into blurry, surging, colorful blocks of light that rushed past on both sides of his vision.
In the dizzying rush of speed, a long-lost, almost unrestrained pleasure surged into Dazai's heart. He unconsciously curled the corners of his mouth, feeling that the gloom that had accumulated in his heart was temporarily blown away by the intense speed.
Chuuya Nakahara's driving skills were exceptional. Even without using his special abilities to cheat, his masterful control was enough to navigate the complex city streets and reach the mission location in the shortest possible time. Everything was proceeding as Dazai had predicted.
They stormed the stronghold with lightning speed, dismantling most of the resistance before the enemy could fully react, successfully reclaiming the port mafia's important cargo, and capturing key prisoners.
Before returning to headquarters after the mission, Dazai Osamu dismissed his subordinates, thus giving him an excuse to continue hitching rides on Nakahara Chuuya's motorcycle, such as having lost his means of transportation back home. As he plotted how to persuade Chuuya with twisted logic like, "Chuuya, how could you bear to leave your poor, newly accomplished partner in this desolate wilderness?"...
"Dazai."
A voice interrupted his thoughts.
Instead of heading towards his motorcycle, Chuuya walked towards him, stopping just a step away. His cobalt blue eyes pierced through the twilight, staring directly at Dazai's face.
"What's wrong with you lately?" Chuuya Nakahara's voice wasn't loud, but it carried an undeniable certainty. "Your recent behavior... seems rather strange."
Dazai Osamu's smile remained unchanged, and he even tilted his head reflexively, revealing a perfectly innocent look of doubt: "Really? Is it just Chuuya's imagination? Or has Chuuya finally been captivated by my charming inner self and started secretly paying attention to me?" He casually tossed the question back, his tone carrying his usual teasing.
Thanks to the tireless antics of Dazai Osamu and his companion these past few days, everyone around Dazai—including Mori Ougai and Ozaki Kouyou—has become accustomed to his intermittent erratic behavior. Even if Dazai were to make a move towards Chuuya that is inconsistent with his usual actions, to onlookers it would only be interpreted as: "Ah, Dazai is playing another trick on Chuuya. I'll just pretend I don't know anything," and then they would tacitly look away, pretending not to have seen anything.
This is precisely the effect they deliberately created—using the "joke of playing a fool" as the most solid disguise, leaving room for any possible unplanned "mistakes".
Occasionally, chilling thoughts would cross Dazai Osamu's mind: if one day, [Dazai Osamu] were completely and silently "replaced" by his counterpart from another world, probably no one would notice anything amiss. After all, from thought patterns to behavioral habits, from memories to souls, they were essentially the same person, two inseparable sides of the same coin. Unless he deliberately self-destructed, it would be extremely difficult for anyone to detect the difference.
Of course, this thought only flashed through his mind. He knew perfectly well that it was impossible, and he would never allow it to happen. He did not belong to this world, nor had he ever intended to stay here forever. More importantly, he was absolutely certain that his counterpart—the [Dazai Osamu] of this world—was watching his every move like a ghost from somewhere in the world at this very moment.
In this coexistence, one of them will eventually have to watch over the other forever, until separation comes and they perish together.
Chuuya Nakahara wasn't swayed by Dazai's banter. He simply stared intently into Dazai's eyes, a thoughtful expression on his face, and then, with a tone that was both uncertain and unusually certain, he pierced through the paper-thin wall between them, word by word:
"Lately, you've been doing some inexplicably stupid things sometimes. Are you trying to hide something?"
"Then..." Chuuya narrowed his eyes slightly, as if trying to see through the fake smile on Dazai Osamu's face and look into the depths of his soul. "Sometimes your eyes become very unfamiliar. It's not the usual annoying scheming or feigned frivolity... it's an indescribable feeling, looking coldly at something, and then suddenly changing to another expression when facing people."
“Hey,” Chuuya’s voice was even lower, with an almost direct probing tone, “You and your strange shadow…are you sharing the same body? Sometimes you control it, and sometimes it appears?” He paused, seemingly finding the idea too far-fetched, yet unable to ignore the strong intuition, so he clicked his tongue in annoyance: “Ah, no, if you ask me that, I’m not even sure who you are standing in front of me right now.”
"You two bastards, you must be plotting something behind my back, right? Otherwise, how could nothing have happened for so long?"
Dazai Osamu's breathing paused almost imperceptibly.
He had indeed anticipated that Chuuya might sniff out the truth with his beast-like intuition, but he never expected it to happen so quickly. Several months had passed since his unexpected arrival in this world. During this time, neither the meticulous Mori Ōgai nor the close Oda Sakunosuke had shown the slightest suspicion about his (or rather, about [Dazai Osamu]'s] actions. But now, Nakahara Chuuya was the only exception.
Even if he and his counterpart subtly switched body control at some point, Chuuya Nakahara could still detect the slightest abnormality with his almost instinctive intuition. Perhaps it was something hinted at in Dazai Osamu's occasional pranks during these days, which Chuuya's subconscious had keenly picked up; or perhaps it was a tacit understanding that transcended words, cultivated through countless life-and-death experiences.
In short, although he didn't discover the abnormality in Dazai Osamu very quickly, Nakahara Chuuya was indeed the only one who, without relying on anything, realized solely through his own intuition that Dazai Osamu was not Dazai Osamu.
Under this series of questions, the perfect mask on Dazai Osamu's face finally cracked slightly, almost imperceptibly to the average person—a genuine surprise, like a pebble thrown into calm water, rippled in the depths of his iris-colored eyes and was clearly reflected in his slightly dilated pupils.
Although this surprise was as fleeting as a startled bird, so quick it seemed like an illusion, it didn't escape the eyes of Chuuya Nakahara, who was watching him intently, not missing a single change in expression. This brief slip of the tongue, like the most compelling evidence, completely confirmed Chuuya's bold, almost absurd, guess.
The last rays of the setting sun gilded the buildings of Yokohama, and twilight, like a gentle tide, began to quietly creep into the sky. An unidentified bird cried out sharply as it flew across the sky above them, which was dyed a mixture of orange and cobalt blue, leaving a fleeting black dot.
Dazai Osamu's gaze slowly shifted from Chuuya's cobalt blue eyes, which were filled with certainty and inquiry. He looked into the distance, remaining silent for a moment, as if weighing something or organizing his thoughts. Chuuya, unusually patient, did not urge him, but simply stood quietly in the twilight with his hands in his pockets, awaiting his answer.
Finally, Dazai Osamu turned back, a smile returning to his face. That smile was brighter than ever before, filled with the joy of a child who had successfully pulled off a prank, even making his eyes crinkle into happy crescent shapes.
"Bingo~!" He snapped his fingers cheerfully, his voice light and cheerful, almost like singing. "You guessed most of it right, Chuuya! You're incredibly clever!" He took a small step closer, lowered his voice, and spoke with the intimacy of sharing a secret and a strange sense of satisfaction: "Congratulations, Chuuya, for being the first and only person to successfully discover this little secret~ Now we have another little secret to share~"
Before he finished speaking, his bandaged hand reached out with lightning speed to Chuuya's head. "As a reward, I'll give Chuuya a pat on the head. Good boy, good boy, good boy."
"Get lost, you bastard, don't touch my head!"
Dazai, who tried to jokingly touch Chuuya Nakahara's hair, was chased away by Chuuya with a flying kick.
A note from the author:
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It's not finished yet. I'll revise the previous chapters in the next few days; I'm feeling quite tired and realized I haven't written them well. The ranking requires 20,000 words per update, and I'll try my best to finish it.
Thank you everyone for your support!
*This references the scene in the novel "Fifteen Years Old" where Black Tokizaburo tries to touch Chuuya's head; I really like that scene.
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