Chapter 140 (Text) The residue of emotions disappears with the sound of clinking glasses
A few months ago, the leader Dazai Osamu left behind several envelopes before leaving.
It was handed over to Edogawa Ranpo of the Armed Detective Agency by Sengenmaku. One of the envelopes was of course from Edogawa Ranpo, which contained his payment for the commission and the specific destination of these letters.
Two months ago, Oda Sakunosuke's short story "Morning" was published in a magazine. The book describes the story between a lonely wanderer and an orphan. The two people, who have no place to go and no future but pretend to have a future, watch the rising sun side by side in the garbage dump on a winter morning.
After the short story was published, Oda Sakunosuke received a lot of royalties, and then published the novel "Depression" in the next issue, which is a story about the lower class of society struggling to survive during a period of social turmoil.
In the Q&A at the end of the magazine, when asked why he writes, Oda Sakunosuke wrote:
"I saw an article not long ago... so I thought, if I keep writing, I'll find the answer."
“So I quit my job.”
"If you walk on the wrong path, you will never reach the right destination."
After the publication of his second novel, Oda Sakunosuke received letters from readers of his first short story.
Most of the people who wrote letters to the author in this era were elderly people or young teenagers. He read the letters one by one, and when he read one of them, he suddenly couldn't continue reading.
In fact, the letter didn't say much, and was even much simpler than other letters.
"Congratulations on the publication of the article." - That was all he wrote.
However, at that moment, Oda Sakunosuke suddenly felt something strange. He read the sender's address of the letter, which was also in Yokohama, not far from him.
However, he was in the process of resigning at that time, and it was really difficult to resign from the port mafia. Fortunately, he was not a prominent figure in the mafia and had never killed anyone. After several rounds of tossing and turning, he finally got out.
When he had cleared his name and was preparing to earnestly support his family with his writing, he received a letter from a reader of his second article.
He received that strange letter again.
This time the letter was much more normal, like a complaint about life, narrating calmly and coldly, complaining about the boss, complaining about colleagues, being anxious about the friends he wanted to meet, looking forward to the future but also fearing the future.
Tired, numb, empty.
Oda Sakunosuke might be a little slow and numb when interacting with people, but he is very sensitive to words. When his fingertips run across these beautiful handwriting, he seems to see a somewhat helpless soul.
Tried to reply, but no response.
The White Tiger boy asked him:
"Do you want to try looking for it?"
"Wait a little longer." He shook his head and refused.
During this period, Oda Sakunosuke stayed up all night and wrote his third novel, "Vulgarity". He waited anxiously for half a month, carefully reading through the readers' letters, and finally found the third letter that seemed familiar.
A careful comparison, the direction of the handwriting, the thickness of the ink, shows that these letters were definitely written together.
“…
It has been a long time since I have seen cherry blossoms in full bloom. The cherry blossoms on the dining table were in a horrible state of rigor mortis in the vase. Others praise its charm, but I truly pity the cherry blossom's inability to control itself. If it sinks into the mud when it dies, perhaps it will be a relief from this world where life and death are also drifting with the tide.
…
"
During the banquet, a young man who had not left the office for a long time looked coldly at the decorations on the table. He had no expression on his face and was silently sad.
“…
There will be a time when dark clouds cover the sky, and the fish deprived of oxygen jump out of the water. At that moment when they are closest to death, a feeling of ecstasy of breaking free from everything suddenly comes over them.
The world is arrogant to me, and I am arrogant to the world. The stupidity of ignorance is a horrible hell, and excessive clarity of thought is nothing more than another more severe torture.
…
"
Sitting in front of the low table, the young man's eyes fell on the swords falling back and forth. His eyes were calm, and his lips, which had turned pale due to the fever, were extremely dry. He leaned against the window and slowly lowered his eyes.
“…
I want to ask my friend: How about staying and watching the cherry blossoms with me next year? Maybe this way I can live one more spring.
I couldn't open my mouth no matter what.
In a world where no one can be blamed, everyone is a criminal.
I am a murderer.
Lies pile up like sand to form a tower, and the truth can only be written out in a strange world due to the turbid thoughts. If I continue to be sick like this, perhaps one day I will receive the final sentence of death, but after death, no one will be able to trace my whereabouts.
Not unlike fish deprived of oxygen.
…
"
Seeing the surviving Oda Sakunosuke appear in other parallel worlds in the "book", the young man in hospital gown breathed a sigh of relief. He laughed softly, and his iris-colored pupils were twisted and shattered into broken glass, which scattered in the dark sky.
The plan was completed one by one, and he happily took steps towards the selected track.
「
…
Did you feel relaxed while writing the book?
What should I write next? How long will it take to write?
Do you like this kind of life?
…
"
Oda Sakunosuke stood up suddenly, grabbed the envelope and anxiously followed the address. Finally, he found the Armed Detective Agency which was open for business.
At the same time, at a certain moment in a certain world, above the Port Mafia, a thin man looked up at the sky, opened his arms, and showed the calmest smile of his life.
「
If you don't hate it.
Please keep going towards the light.
"
"Excuse me...Who sent this letter?!"
The door was pushed open, and a gleam of light flashed in the eyes of the black-haired, green-eyed detective who was getting water from the water dispenser.
"Can... can I meet him?"
The red-haired young man said so.
**
"...A guy like him can actually write something so disgusting. Maybe he's sick?"
Edogawa Ranpo said lightly:
"However, your "Meaninglessness" seems to have been written at the same time as his. He was greatly influenced by you, huh?"
Maybe I was really touched, so I wanted to be a little willful in front of a strange world and familiar people before my life ended?
Qian Jianmu lowered his eyes and folded the letter, carefully following the creases.
This piece of paper looked very familiar to him, because it was the first piece of paper he gave to the leader, and he could write anything he wanted on it.
Out of respect, he did not read the letters and did not guess.
But I didn't expect that it was a farewell letter in some sense.
“It’s been very hard…”
Chijianmu thought of something and looked up and asked Ranpo, "Where are the remaining letters?"
"It's just a chat letter."
Edogawa Ranpo turned his back and looked at the swaying leaves outside the window. The weather was very cold. He shivered and wrapped himself in a blanket:
"I checked and gave them to Oda Sakunosuke in advance. They are not with me now, you know? Not with me!"
“…”
It's obvious that he's hiding something!
The heavy mood relaxed a little, and Qian Jianmu felt a little amused.
"You want me to do something?"
"Eh? I don't know. I don't know anything!" Ranpo still didn't look back, staring at the leaves outside the window: "I just thought you would want to know about this. I don't care about those troublesome things!"
This was half true and half false, and Ranpo really didn't have the habit of prying into other people's privacy.
He could clearly tell what it was at a glance, but the moment he received the letter, he analyzed who it was from and who he wanted to give it to, and then he just left it on the table and ignored it.
Ranpo was able to force himself to stop thinking about this matter occasionally.
If it weren't for Mitsuyo Kakuta going out to deliver the letter, forcing him to take a few more looks at who the letter was being delivered to, he would not have realized the problem. Even so, he did not explore the leader's privacy, but...
Speeds up the delivery of letters.
The third letter is actually the sixth.
**
The leader really wanted to die, which was beyond Qian Jianmu's imagination. Qian Jianmu only knew that the leader had done a lot of big things, but he had no idea what he had done specifically.
After all, the parallel world he obtained actually excluded the world where the leader Zai was.
Dazai Osamu's personality is extremely similar, longing for the tranquility of death and escaping the pain of being separated from the world. They want to die, but they don't really want to die regardless of the consequences.
A thread called hope, shaky yet incredibly strong, tied to his fingers reaching out to the world.
He didn't know when it would break, but if it did break one day, it would be a horrible reality that he couldn't accept, or a deep despair that made it impossible to struggle, which would drown him like a tide.
Many people would complain about his occasional suicide attempts, believing that the bandages he used to cover his scars were a sheer waste. However, if he really died, no one would say anything.
Because his death at that time would be a real relief.
…
"Have you lost your place to go? Or are you too tired?"
This was all Qian Jianmu could think of.
Even if he got the book, he is not Dazai Osamu. Dazai Osamu can form a singularity with the book to read the memories of 800 trillion parallel worlds, but he cannot. The memories of the parallel worlds he knows are actually simply the infusion of memory cards, which have not reached the level of singularity.
He only has the permission to jump to parallel time and space, but not the permission to read.
With what he knew, everything seemed to be developing normally. However, if he thought about it carefully, Dazai Osamu must have given up something to become the leader, and the only thing he could give up was his home.
He abandoned Mori Ogai and Oda Sakunosuke. For the sake of an illusory future, there was no one to push him into the darkness, nor was there anyone to lead him towards the light.
At the moment when everything was successful, he was a wandering soul in this world. Perhaps it was time to make his own choice. However, he was too tired at this moment. He had no strength to struggle anymore, and he dared not make any choice that would affect the changes in the world.
So death.
After a decisive battle, even if you win, you will eventually be submerged by the sea.
With no reason to live, he wanted to die.
"He is your friend, not mine."
Hearing his words, Edogawa Ranpo turned around, his green eyes fixed on him:
"But if it's his words, the emotions in the letter itself are actually quite complicated. You know this, right?"
Dazai Osamu was not the kind of person who would suddenly write a letter like this to Oda Sakunosuke.
Even if he felt extremely depressed because of his illness, and wrote letters to Oda Sakunosuke to fulfill his wishes that could not be fulfilled in that world, why did he write so much?
The last letter was about farewell?
If he had seen his farewell letter, Oda Sakunosuke would definitely have found the Armed Detective Agency based on the letter, and then Sengenmaku would have known what he had done.
However, he extended the timeline, making it more difficult for Qian Jianmu to see the letter. It was a kind of compromise that he didn't want him to see it, but it would be okay if he saw it.
Awkward and struggling, as if asking fate for one last help and miracle. At that time, he had no idea how far Qian Jianmu could go in the end. He just quietly and silently stretched out his hand in the darkness, without any desire to live, but indeed trying to wait for something in the struggle with the desire for death.
It was Dazai Osamu, but with the silence that belonged only to a leader.
Because he was too quiet, his desire to survive was much weaker than the real Dazai Osamu, but it was still there.
It’s not that there isn’t.
That's so unfair.
Sengenbaku sorted out the letters and returned them to Edogawa Ranpo, and they would eventually be sent back to Oda Sakunosuke.
"After six days, everything will be over, right?"
The Special Ability Conference will be officially held in six days. In fact, Yokohama is already under martial law. The port mafia has come out to maintain security, and there are few people on the streets.
It appears to be a move to reduce chaos, but in reality it is a move to avoid disaster.
"Um?"
Ranpo tilted his head.
"There's nothing to do anyway."
Qian Jianmu sighed:
"Let's talk about the details later, okay?"
Hearing this, Edogawa Ranpo smiled smugly:
"With Lord Ranpo here, how could an accident happen?"
“Just do it!!!”
***
There is no desire to survive.
There is no more obsession to die.
In fact, it was something that had been prepared for a long time. Death was a predetermined itinerary, just like when you are traveling, you hear the announcement that the next stop is your hometown, and then you stand at the door of the car, swaying simply and waiting for the door to open, and take your first step.
What is that feeling? Perhaps, Dazai Osamu himself is a guy who is looking for something.
If you can't find your goal, you will just live like a ghost, forever unhappy and painful.
If he had found his goal, if he had achieved any goal, Dazai Osamu's life would have been complete and he could fall in peace.
Even if I could survive, I couldn't find the reason to live and the place to go.
It was not a deliberate suicide like before, but an easier and calmer choice than any other time.
I just simply want to die.
As light as fallen leaves in autumn.
What does how the world changes have to do with him? All the changes, the transformation of the world, the passage of years, the coming and going of strangers, the change of future companions, all of these are serving his plan.
After creating that kind of future for that kind of world... it's about time to take a break, right?
Can’t we completely negate his efforts and fatigue just because of the accident? Compared to the changes in the world, he believes more in his own control. In his plan, everything is perfect.
So, wait for the announcement bell of the final stop.
The next stop is Lupin platform, and the announcement says that we can get off early.
As if it was a pre-arranged arrangement, or as if it was just a coincidence of fate, he and Oda Sakunosuke met for the first time in his life.
Sad music was playing in the air, familiar old friends were sitting there, time was going backwards, like a long revolving lantern, but in fact it was just a long dream.
"... Even so, what you did to Akutagawa cannot be erased."
Counting down the time, the hatred that had been brewing for years burst out from the familiar yet unfamiliar eyes. After being alert, a gun was pointed at the forehead.
It doesn't matter if you shoot him, he is the murderer.
However, during this meeting, apart from the brief shock of suffocation and the momentary numbness and coldness of his hands and feet, his mood was surprisingly stable. Although he was in pain, it was not to the point of being in disarray.
He did it, he doesn't regret it, he succeeded, he doesn't regret it.
Does he crave gratitude? Does he want to be understood? No, not at all.
Those complaints have already been said in other ways, so let's say less curses at each other.
He even smiled.
“…It’s a shame I can’t see your first book.”
On the contrary, in the intense pain, in his own frail life, where both friendship and life belonged to his parallel self and his own life was left with only a mess of debris, he embraced a kind of silent emptiness and joy.
All of Oda Sakunosuke will eventually obtain the joy of happiness.
It is the joy that all friendships will eventually evolve naturally.
It is the joy of your own life, of stepping out of the established track and no longer being a ruin with nothing.
It was a somewhat morbid, very subtle emotion, like the days and months he spent with the white-haired boy. In the suffocating deep-sea maze, he saw the sun rise and set.
In the painful night when I couldn't sleep, the dark and twisted creatures were driven away from the cold by the warmth, and the helplessness of pretending to sleep deeply out of fear was digested and sorted out, turning into a strange sense of ease and relief.
...cured? Well, is it okay to say that?
"I just want to say goodbye to you this time... Even if we're not friends anymore, can we have a last drink?"
The wine was swirling in the glass. He faced the gun and endured calmly. His bloodless face became paler, but a faint smile hung on his face. His overall expression showed an inexplicable sense of relief and emptiness:
"Just clink glasses."
The familiar stranger looked at him with cold eyes, as if touched by something inexplicable, and he slowly moved his wine glass.
clatter.
The night stood still and the bright moon hung in the sky.
The remnants of emotion disappeared with the sound of clinking glasses, like a farewell that crushed life.
…
Pretty decent, right?
Click, click, the train missed all the stations where I could get off early and arrived at the terminal, and this time it was really the end.
This is really the end.
The wind from high above blew into the carriage, blowing away coats, bandages and red scarves.
Once you take that step, it's over.
The past was swept away by the wind in an instant, and only by facing death could he throw off all the burdens of being human.
The young man smiled, turned his back to the city, and fell downwards.
His pupils shrank slightly and he looked up at the sky.
In front of him, a huge golden halo suddenly appeared in the sky.
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