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Dazai, Dazai, Dazai.
Did you know what I thought when I saw you crumpled there on the ground? I thought it was a lie. A test, maybe. You always tested everyone so strangely. You would let me in on the little details of their tests, as if to gauge my reaction. You were testing me too. And I would comply, wearing my emotion on my face with no other thoughts, because that was all I knew to prove myself. And you would look at me with an unchanging expression, your eyes dimly glinting as they always did. People claimed that your eyes were hollow but they always shone. People just never saw you in the light.
“Boss?"
“What is it?"
He rambles on about another mission. Something about explosives going awry.
“It's alright" I say, toying with your paperweight. It’s ornate. Too classy for your tastes. A gift, I think.
“Report to Miss Kouyou. I wish to rest for a while."
I say, turning my chair to face the wall, the grand, sickeningly large wall. It never seemed so large before. As if it wouldn't end. It used to be smaller. You would look at me with interest as I sat on that wall, angered by something yet again.
Did you know, Dazai? You saved everyone. The story has ended. Stories like these do have a happily after, and you have found it. You won. Even the Mafia operates as usual. You didn't forget to set up everything for your demise. I sent a few people to check on Atsushi. That's a lie. I did so myself. I wanted to ask about you, but he wouldn't understand you. He didn't know you. So I didn't. He is happier. And so is Kyouka. And Gin. And everyone else. How thoughtful of you, Dazai. You considered the emotions of our enemy too. The Agency has never been better. They are thriving delightfully, the place ebbing with life.
This red suffocates me. They picked it off your body to place it on mine. I haven't washed it. They hesitated in placing it, but they are simply members, and I am their boss. I shall ask them what I please and they shall hand it to me. Do you think this is what I wanted? I am wearing your blood, Dazai. Sometimes I hold up the fabric and breathe it in, hoping I can feel you. It reeks of death. The blood blended with the red before, but it has all but oxidised, crumbling off the cloth. I press it closer, so your blood can snuff out my breath. It burns within.
I thought. I thought a lot. Maybe you wanted me to save you. Was that it? Maybe you miscalculated, thinking I could catch you in time. You died from something that I knew best. If I was fast enough, if I knew soon enough to read from your eyes what you would never tell me, I could have saved you. You never showed emotions. It is a fool’s weakness, you would say. Did you enjoy toying with mine? You've lost. I knew yours. I knew the way you would trace your desk when contemplative, and the way you would ever so slightly squint when angry. But you smiled. You truly smiled when you died. You smiled with your face mangled. I could tell. I could tell, despite the flesh tearing and your skull fractured. I knew you down to the bones, even if your body would be so mangled that others couldn't even tell if it were you. I could. I would. Because I knew you down to your insides. Remembrance was all I knew. To remember your flaws, your wounds, your secrets. They covered you in death, with the pretext of respecting your death. An unpleasant sight even to the Mafia, it seems, rather.
None of them stayed long enough at your funeral. You never mattered, Dazai. You mattered to none of these people that you worked so hard to save. It rained at night afterwards. It was a storm, rather. I wished to claw out the soil with my bare hands and see you. I would see you with contempt. I would watch you rot. My eyes burned even in the chill of the rain. Do you like this? Do you like seeing my emotion? You liked making me react, didn't you? Is this enough of a reaction, Dazai?
They found me with my face in the soil, my body curled against the ridiculous stone that marked your finished days. How humiliating. Would that be enough for you, Dazai?
I despise you. I despise you so deeply. Even as I stood so close to you, I was never a part of your world. Your body was mine, but your soul would slip from my hands, even when I tightened my grip on you. You would let me hold you. Tighter and tighter, as I tried to keep your soul from falling away from me. You wouldn't fight , even if I tightened enough to bruise. Somedays, you'd comply to my whims, smiling, asking me if what I might be thinking. I could tell, Dazai. You thought I couldn't. I could. You knew I could. You knew I knew you weren't there with me at all. I could have taken as much of your body as I wanted but I would have never found your soul. So I would take from you selfishly, hoping that I could find traces of you, but all I found was that same expression. Your eyes were the most honest part of you. You hid them because of that, didn't you? You never trusted anyone to reach inside and find you. Not even me. Even when I bared myself to you. Even when I would use corruption, knowing you can choose not to save me anytime you please. I trusted you the way you couldn't trust me.
You were buried under a tree. They say it symbolises something. I don't know what it symbolises. You were the one who would remember ridiculous things like that. Kouyou tries to comfort me, as if I am anguished. I am not. All I feel is rage, Dazai. You belonged to everyone. Could I not be a part of something that was yours? Or am I no longer human to you?
I knew I wasn't human. I could have lived with that, Dazai. That's how I existed. I knew. Then why did you make me human, only to forget? I was a pawn in your game. I knew that. I would've let you use me a thousand times over if you promised that you would let me be selfish once. I needed you. I needed you here.
Your grand plan, wasn't it? We could have run away, couldn't we? It wasn't about being caught. You knew I would've protected you from anything, if you needed me to. I was your dog, wasn't I? You said so. Then what of me now, Dazai? Is it not cruel of you to abandon me here?
I stood at the roof quite a few times. How did you jump? It is scary, even to me. Even though gravity is mine. It is so high. The winds feel so much stronger here, like a gale whipping through everything unfit to be in its presence.
I jumped once, using gravity before I reached the end. Kouyou wouldn't let me leave the office after that, as if it could stop me. They tell me they are concerned.
I looked through your book of methods a while ago. The one you would read so intently. It was empty. I tried looking for codes, indentations, anything. It was empty. And I think I knew that it was empty, because your eyes would reflect the blank white of the page. A sight I would drink down.
You know, the grass has grown over your grave. I wish I could rot with you. I poured a bottle of alcohol on the grass. Damp, sticky grass. The cheapest wine in my collection. I drank the rest, leaning on your headstone. Did you know, I can't get intoxicated easily. You probably did. You always knew everything. And so I drank and drank. It was so easy this time, to lay on the grass, the green blades bending down with my weight, not fighting back, never fighting back, simply bending. Kouyou stood over me the next morning. I was at the damned building again.
Verlaine returned, but I have shut them all out. Is this the ending you wanted for me, Dazai? What did I do wrong?
I wanted to use corruption. It would kill me, wouldn't it? I didn't do it. Too many people would be hurt. People you worked hard to save.
What do I do, Dazai? What did you intend for me? I sit at your grave more often these days. The Mafia is operated by others anyways. I once tried to dig you out at last, but they didn't allow me to. I was being watched, after all. They held me, and I didn't fight. I haven't been in any fights since you left.
I live for this tainted sorrow of mine. It eats me alive and lets me live. Your ghost haunts me.
So, Dazai, rid me of this sorrow. Place your hand to my chest and bleed me dry. May they bury me with you.
Do you know, I'm writing this as I bleed. I have simply slowed it for a while, but an ability shall only last so long. It is painful. Dying is painful, Dazai. It is so very painful. It is not cold at all, but scalding. Is this how you felt? The bullet is on the floor somewhere. I don't wish to look for it or I'll lose focus. You never liked life taken by a gun, did you? Crude and messy. Out of all the methods you would mention off handedly, this would never be one. This is my revenge, then. A simple act of rebellion. In life and death. Punish me, if you please, for this sin. I would take anything for one last moment with you, but I shall get selfish and not let you go again. Never again, Boss.
Goodbye, Dazai. Perhaps this was foolish. But you knew my sin is loyalty. Then I shall simply follow you in your decisions, Boss, as your most trusted executive would.
-Chuuya Nakahara