Silent decay

Dazai sat at the bar and downed one glass of whiskey after another, having long since lost count. And what’s the point of counting? He just wanted to get drunk and forget what happened five years ago. Today was the death anniversary of his best friend, Oda Sakunosuke. So, after drinking a bit at the cemetery, Osamu went to a bar and continued to drown his grief in liquor. He poured another swig of whiskey into his mouth and suddenly, a sarcastic, annoying voice drifted in from somewhere nearby... “Drinking again, Mackerel?” Osamu turned his head to the newcomer and beholding him with a cold gaze, said, “What do you care, Slug? And why did you come here anyways?” “I wanted a drink, of course”, Chuuya replied, sitting down next to Dazai and ordering wine. “I didn’t know you come to Lupin.” Chuuya shrugged and said, “I was just passing by.” “Yeah? I wonder where you were coming from or headed to? Or maybe you’re just stalking me, eh, Chu-u-u-ya?” «Why the fuck do I need to?!» Nakahara exclaimed in a derisive tone. “Yea, yea, of course”, Dazai grinned contemptuously. The bartender placed another glass of whiskey in front of him and Osamu downed it in one go, after which he fixed his alcohol-addled gaze on Chuuya, ”Or maybe you just remembered what day it is and came here on purpose to completely ruin my evening.” “What? Ruin the evening?”, Nakahara smiled sarcastically, taking a few sips from his glass, the bartender put in front of him, “Oh, you were celebrating?” “‘Celebrating’? How could you utter such a thing?” “You just said it yourself that I ruined your evening. Doesn’t that mean you were having a blast while I was away? So naturally, I concluded that you were celebrating something.” “Just shut up”, Osamu hissed. His eyes burnt with hatred, which was quite unusual, for, Osamu Dazai never reveals his emotions or feelings to anyone. This small detail instantly caught Chuuya’s attention who concluded that Dazai had simply drank too much and was no longer being able to control himself and pull that eternal mask of nonchalance over his face, like he always does. “Who the hell are you to shut me up?”, Nakahara flared up, “Every year on this very same day you come to Lupine alone, to get completely wasted. It looks pathetic! Five years have already passed. It’s about time you forgot all of it!” - Chuuya himself didn’t understand what came over him, why he said those words to Dazai. But every time he brooded over the relationship between Oda and his former partner, Nakahara lost his temper. He didn’t know what exactly connected these two in the past: whether there was friendship between them or something more. However, thoughts of Sakunosuke made Chuuya furious even after his death. There was never a trusting relationship between him and Dazai or even just a friendly one. Osamu didn’t want to get close to him as much as he got close to Oda and Chuuya was disgruntled by that, because he loved... He loved Dazai for a long time and unrequitedly. Although he and Dazai had been sleeping since the days of the mafia, despite that, their relationship could never be something that could be called ‘close’. Chuuya was extremely displeased with Osamu. He was infuriated by his ex-partner’s unreasonable coldness towards him. He was fully aware... Dazai was simply using him for his own purposes. So, Chuuya often showed his aggression towards him. Dazai would come to him in the middle of the night with just sex in his mind and then leave silently when he’s done. Nakahara tried to talk to him about this several times, even confessed his love to him during moments of passion but Osamu didn’t pay any heed to his words, turning everything into a joke or conveniently forgetting about them after sex. Chuuya himself didn’t understand why he came to this bar today. After all, he already knew that he would find Dazai here and not in the best of moods. Did he want to see Dazai? Maybe. Chuuya was bored out of his mind; he missed his former partner, now that they rarely saw each other, after Osamu betrayed him and the organization, leaving the mafia and blowing up Nakahara’s car. Of course, Dazai’s act was horrid but it was quite in his style, so it didn’t surprise Nakahara. But the sudden separation was still painful; Chuuya suffered from his unrequited love and then betrayal from the same person. At first, Nakahara was furious; if Dazai had crossed paths with him back then, he would’ve undoubtedly killed the vile Mackerel. At first it was very difficult. He loved and hated Osamu at the same time but gradually the pain got lesser and Chuuya tried to move on with his life. A long time had passed since Osamu left and he had cooled down a bit. He started dating someone but never felt such vivid emotions and sensations again like he did with Dazai. In the end, he got tired of it and broke up with his lover, started to date another but again couldn’t find what he was looking for. He looked for highs, adrenaline, wild, mad passion... that he and Dazai had... that scorched him to the ground every time... but in vain. In the end, Nakahara was never able to find a worthy replacement for Osamu. A year later, he saw Dazai near Lupine, but for some reason, he couldn’t find it in himself to approach him. Remembering what day it was, Chuuya quickly realized why Dazai, even after defecting the mafia, did not care about the risks and openly showed up at his and Oda’s favourite bar. Osamu was still being hunted by his former colleagues but Chuuya didn’t say a word to anyone that he had seen Dazai on the anniversary of his friend’s death near Lupin. Another year passed by and Chuuya went to that bar again, on that very same day, already knowing that he would find Dazai there. And he did, but again, couldn’t garner up the courage to walk up and speak to him. The next year, he didn’t go anywhere, as well as on the fourth anniversary of Sakunosuke’s death, but he knew that Osamu would be there. He simply decided not to poison his soul anymore. After all, he was still trying to forget his lover and seeing him was just too hard. Four years after Dazai’s betrayal, when Chuuya thought he had finally got over him, the sudden(intentional) encounter stirred everything up inside him once again, although Nakahara didn’t show it. On the contrary, he tried to make Dazai get the exact opposite impression. And it seemed to be successful. When Osamu was captured by Port Mafia, which he let happen on purpose, Chuuya thrashed him but at the same time freed him after forging a “deal” that Dazai forced him to make. Then they met several times again on joint combat missions; Chuuya’s heart sank with sadness and despondency because Dazai wasn’t with him any longer. Although what they had before could not be called a relationship, Chuuya was still in pain, he wanted to be near Dazai so bad, to be in the same bed again, to touch him at least one more time. It would heal a broken heart and a wounded soul... or so Chuuya thought. Because no, everything turned out differently. One day, an intoxicated Dazai approached him in the middle of the night and they slept together. That didn’t make it any easier because the next morning Osamu went back to his fucking Agency and Chuuya didn’t see him for a while. Three weeks later, Dazai showed up at Chuuya’s house and yet again they ended up in the same bed. After that, Dazai visited him more often, coming at least once a week. Chuuya was happy because this way he could at least see his beloved sometimes, touch him, hug him, kiss him. But then, everything suddenly changed. Dazai became colder to him, even in bed and then completely disappeared from his field of vision and did not show up for more than a month. Chuuya kept waiting for him, but in vain. His pride did not allow him to call Osamu or go visit him himself, so he simply decided to wait for Dazai to show up again. When the ceaseless wait tired him out, he decided to go himself. It was for this reason that Chuuya came to that bar today... to see Dazai, but now he regretted his impulsive act. The encounter did not bring any relief to his soul, only tormented him further. Chuuya did not want to quarrel with Osamu at all... that was not why he came here. However, as they say: A word is not a sparrow... if it flies out, you won’t catch it. Dazai’s eyes gleamed spitefully. “Forget!?”, he hissed with hatred. ”I will never forget Oda”, Osamu brought his face closer to Chuuya’s and growled, “Do you hear that? Never! Now, get out of my sight, you squit! I loathe you! It would have been so much better if Oda had lived and you had died in his place! Only then would I be happy!” Dazai’s words pierced through Chuuya’s heart. Hearing something like that from someone you love is unbearably painful. Nakahara stood up from behind the bar, threw the money for the wine at the bartender and also throwing at Dazai a- - “Fuck you, motherfucker!” “Yeah, I’ll definitely do that”, Osamu slurred in response, turning back to the bartender and ordering whiskey again, and when he turned back to Chuuya, he was no longer in the bar. Dazai stayed in Lupin until late at night, after which he returned to the Agency dorms and went out like a light. The next morning, Osamu woke up with a splitting headache. He went to the kitchen and dissolved two hangover pills in a glass of water. After taking the medicine, he went back to sleep thanking God that it was Saturday, so, he didn’t have to go to work, though he would’ve skipped work anyways if it were otherwise. Waking up in the evening, Dazai had dinner. Then he turned on the TV and reclined on the sofa, watching some movie he couldn’t really enjoy or understand as memories of the quarrel with Chuuya from yesterday soared up in his mind. Although Osamu drank quite a lot, he remembered everything very clearly. This was a peculiarity of his body: no matter how much he got drunk, he did not suffer from amnesia after drinking... which wasn’t always a good thing. Because he certainly wanted to forget some of his drunken actions. In his heart, he regretted the words he told Chuuya yesterday. They always had a difficult relationship but Chuuya didn’t deserve that. Dazai clearly understood this and now felt some vague remorse. Osamu didn’t understand what or why this was happening to him but he simply couldn’t seem to stop thinking about Chuuya and yesterday’s incident while anxiety overcame him more and more. Getting up from the couch and pouring himself some whiskey, Osamu drank a glass and then another and soon fell asleep. The entire next day, he fretted over calling Chuuya but couldn’t, reassuring himself that Nakahara himself was to blame for the quarrel. Who was pulling his tongue when Osamu was in such a state? Waking up on Monday morning, Dazai went to work. It was his birthday and his colleagues congratulated him. Having decided to organize a festive party on that occasion in the evening, Dazai got off work early to buy everything he needed. Of course, he didn’t intend to cook himself, so he got the food delivered from a restaurant. Osamu thought about inviting Chuuya, to make peace with him. He tried; he dialled his number but Nakahara did not answer. After six in the evening, guests began to gather at his house and by seven almost all the Agency members showed up, save for Yosano Akiko and Kenji Miyazawa, since the director sent them on a business trip to Tokyo just that morning and they were supposed to return tomorrow. The party started rolling in full swing: the guests were eating, drinking and dancing to sprightly music and the birthday guy himself was having a good time. When Atsushi made another toast, the volume of the music suddenly got dampened and the ringtone on Dazai’s phone began to play. Chuuya called... a video call. After apologizing to the guests, Dazai went into another room to take the call. “Chuuya”, Osamu said, when his ex-partner on the other side, sitting in front of the screen with a glass of wine in his hands, came into sight. I see... thought Osamu... he got drunk and decided to call. However, Nakahara didn’t really look drunk; it was impossible to tell from his voice if he was, when the mafioso spoke: “Heyy, Dazai~” “Hey”, Osamu replied. ”I didn’t expect you to call.” “Why? It’s your birthday”, Chuuya smiled subtly, “So I decided to congratulate you”. “Thank you. Chuuya, I wanted to tell you tha-”, Dazai began but Nakahara interrupted him- “I hear music. Are you having a party?” “Yes. I called you. Chuuya, come here. It will be fun.” “Wait, Dazai. I have a surprise for you.” “Surprise? What surprise?”, Osamu looked at Chuuya with confusion and at that moment, for some indescribable reason, all the anxiety from yesterday returned back to him. “More precisely, not a surprise, but a gift.” “A gift?” “Yeah. I was wondering what should I give you for your birthday. After all, you gave me such a wonderful hat for mine.” - Chuuya picked up the hat, lying on the table and placed it on his head. He looked strange in it, if not funny. But it wasn’t just the hat, it was his whole appearance. He was wearing a T-shirt that didn’t look like a new one and together with the hat, it looked a bit comical but Nakahara’s very appearance was unhealthy: heavy eyebags, almost like bruises as if he had not slept at night and maybe more than one. The unnatural pallor of his face was somehow alarming. ”You know, I got befuddled, deciding what gift to give you for your birthday, my love. But you yourself gave me a hint of what you would like. And I’m ready to give you that as a gift, just to make you happy.” — “For you!” Chuuya exclaimed and raised his glass, as they do when making a toast, and chugged it down till the last drop. – “Happy Birthday! Be happy!” - Chuuya threw the glass over his shoulder and it shattered with a loud crash. Then he took his hat off and sent it flying after it. “Chuuya, I don’t understand”, with every word Chuuya said, Dazai’s emerging anxiety grew into panic and fear, slowly gripping his heart in icy shackles. At that moment, he felt that something terrible, irreparable was going to happen- “What does all of this mean?” “You do not understand? It’s a pity, it’s okay, you’ll understand... very soon. “Chuuya, what did you drink?” - Dazai suddenly had a premonition, a hint about what his lover’s words, the gift, wishes for his happiness and also this wine meant. Chuuya smiled and said: “That’s not all, my love.” “WHAT DO YOU MEAN BY ‘not all’? WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT??!!” “You’ll find out soon. And then you will definitely be happy. Everything will be the way you’ve always wanted. Today, all your dreams will come true, Osamu.” “WHAT DO YOU MEAN???” “Go to your friend’s grave after everything happens.” “WHAT? WHAT WILL HAPPEN??”, Dazai was almost yelling, not completely comprehending what Nakahara was talking about but his words unnerved Osamu. His heart plummeted with a terrible premonition. However, the answer he received was just silence as Chuuya disconnected the call before saying a single word: - “Goodbye.” Dazai rushed out of the room, almost knocking Atsushi and Tanizaki, in his way, off their feet and rushed into the bathroom. Taking out the first aid kit and rummaging through it, he slid in some capsule into his pocket, then put his shoes on and dashed out of the apartment, calling a taxi along the way. “Where is he going?”, Junichiro asked, looking at Osamu in confusion. “I don’t know but it seems he just spoke to Nakahara-san on the phone. The door to the room was closed but I’m certain I heard Dazai-san address him by name.” The taxi arrived almost immediately and Dazai called Chuuya the entire way but he did not answer. Ten minutes later, he was at Nakahara’s door and quickly picked the lock. Dashing inside the apartment, Dazai immediately found Chuuya. He was lying on the kitchen floor near the table with a laptop on it. Osamu rushed to him and checked the pulse on his neck... it was very weak but it was there. It looked like the ability user was unconscious. Assuming that Chuuya took poison, Osamu grabbed a glass and filling it with water. He lifted Chuuya’s head, unclenched his jaw and tried to force some antidote into his mouth. He couldn’t achieve it right away but in the end, Dazai got Chuuya to swallow the capsule somehow and pressing the glass to his lips, poured some water into his mouth. Chuuya opened his eyes slightly and the sombre gaze of ocean eyes met the brown ones. Osamu pulled him close, kissing his face and caressing the back of his head. “I’m sorry”, he whispered, “Forgive me, I’m a fool. Just don’t die. Chuuya, can you hear me? Don’t die. I love you.” Chuuya’s lips moved and Dazai leaned closer to him to listen. Nakahara raised his hand and touched Osamu’s face, grazing with his fingertips. “What are you saying, Chuuya? I can’t hear”, Dazai said, a teardrop rolling down his cheek. ‘Be happy,’ was all he could make out of Nakahara’s barely audible whispers before Chuuya’s fingers slid lower and then his hand fell down, going limp. Chuuya’s body convulsed, arched and his eyes rolled back and froze forever, fixing his gaze somewhere upward. Osamu tried to feel the pulse in Chuuya’s neck... but there was none. Chuuya was dead. Not being able to believe what just happened, Dazai jerked him by the shoulders. Chuuya’s head fell back. “NO, CHUUYA, NO!!!!” - Dazai screamed hysterically, continuing to shake his dead lover. “Why, idiot? For what?”, Osamu whispered, lips quivering and warm tears flowing down his cheeks. Only now, when the irreparable had already happened, Dazai realized how dear Chuuya was to him. Before, Osamu had never thought about it or what he really felt for his former partner but now, his heart was tearing with pain. Dazai had always treated Chuuya with a certain amount of disdain, believing that Chuuya will never leave him and took his presence for granted. He never thought what would happen if Chuuya left forever. And now, when that happened, Dazai felt a part of his soul die along with Chuuya or rather, the last bit that still remained in him after Oda’s death. Why did Chuuya do this? - a thought flashed in his head- Did he really love me as much as he said? So, isn’t it my words that killed him? Although Nakahara’s confessed several times before, Dazai never really believed them. It’s not like he thought Chuuya was lying, he simply did not attach any significance to them, since Chuuya always uttered those words either during sex or while drunk and never repeated them under any other circumstances. They felt great in bed, there was always a wild, unbridled passion between them and Osamu was sure that Chuuya was with him for the same reason as himself and not really out of love. But now, it seemed he was wrong not only about Nakahara’s feelings but also about his own. He was undeniably drawn towards Chuuya with an irresistible force but he was often cold with him, sometimes sarcastic and rude. Dazai believed that he simply liked watching Chuuya get angry and tried to convince himself, that, he had no other feelings for him, that, all that ever connected them was only sex. So why is he in so much pain now? Why does it feel like his heart has been ripped and soul sucked out of his body? Nakahara was dead, and so was Dazai. His lover committed suicide in order to make him, Dazai, happy. How stupid all of it was. “How can your death make me happy?”, Osamu whispered quietly, caressing Chuuya’ head; several clear, salty drops fell onto Nakahara’s face. - What an idiot I was! Why didn’t I want to notice such obvious things? I would have never thrown those words at your face out of irritation and because I was in a bad mood if I knew it would become fatal for both of us. I never thought that you would do this. I’m sorry, Chuuya. It’s all my fault and I just don’t know how to live now, now that you are no longer in this world. Dazai pressed his lover’s gradually cooling body close to him, rocking him in his arms as if trying to calm a child, kissed Chuuya’s face and stroked his head. “What an idiot you are”, Osamu whispered, wiping his damp cheeks with his hand, “No, guess I’m the idiot. I didn’t realize how much I loved you and ignored my own feelings until it was too late.” Dazai’s heart was shattering from pain and guilt. He lied down on top of Chuuya and held him close. Dazai didn’t know how long he spent like this. At times, his shoulders trembled with sobs... at times, he simply lay silently over the already cold body of his lover and stroked his hair... at some point, ceasing to be aware of what was really happening and where he was. Dazai came back to his senses when several pairs of hands pulled him away from the deceased. It was a clear sunny day outside. So, I spent the whole night here- a thought flashed through his head. “Dazai, you should drink this”, Yosano said, trying to stuff a pill into Osamu’s mouth. Standing next to her were Atsushi and Kunikida, who tried to hold him in place but Dazai turned his face away, trying to break free and screamed hysterically. Then he felt a sting on the shoulder and passed out. Dazai woke up in his room, Atsushi was near him. “How do you feel?”, the guy asked, sitting down on the bed next to Osamu, ”Yosano-san injected you with a sedative and you slept for almost a day.” “So... it wasn’t a dream”, Dazai muttered. “I’m sorry”, Nakajima replied, “Do you want anything? Something to eat?” “Ah! Water.” “Okay, I’ll bring it now.” Atsushi left the room and Dazai tried to sit up on the bed which he couldn’t do right away; his head was spinning and overall condition left much to be desired, both mentally and physically. The werewolf soon returned and handed Osamu a glass of water. After finishing it, Dazai asked: “Where is Chuuya?” “We informed the mafia about what happened and they took him away, probably to the morgue, I don’t know.” Atsushi sat down on the bed and asked Osamu again: “How do you feel?” “Better”, Dazai replied nonchalantly. “There was a letter for you on the table”, Atsushi said, handing Osamu a sealed envelope with the inscription- “For Dazai.” Snatching it from the werewolf’s hands, Osamu quickly opened the letter and began to read the content written in Chuuya’s beautiful handwriting: “Now, you’re probably wondering why I did this, or maybe not, but I still want you to know the reason. So, I’ll tell you. I have been madly in love with you for many years, probably since I was sixteen. Even though we fought all the time, my love for you didn’t dwindle, no matter how much I wanted it to. When you left, betraying both me and the mafia, I was angry and thought that I hated you, I tried to convince it to myself. But when we met again, I realized that it was just self-deception. Over the years, my feelings have not diminished. I loved you so much that I would’ve given my life for you without any hesitation. But you never cared about my feelings, though I’m sure you are aware of them since I articulated them more than once. I’m so tired. I was on fire when you were still in the mafia but after you left I only smouldered steadily until we met again. You rekindled the flame in me but it burned me from the inside. I can’t live like this anymore; I’m completely burnt out. After all, no matter what I do, I can’t get rid of these feelings that I have for you. Even when we are together, I feel that you are so far away. Thoughts about ending all of this crossed my mind several times but I didn’t dare to take that step, maybe I was still hoping for something, I don’t know. But the day before yesterday, I realized, I had nothing to rely on. You spoke about your true feelings without holding back and I am grateful to you for that, because at long last, you were honest, even if for only once. And now I can stop my torment and put an end to our relationship and my life. But I don’t want to leave just like that. I want to give you one more gift, in addition to the fact that I decided to die today; after all, it’s your birthday, and on birthdays, dreams should come true. Be happy with the one who really matters to you... who you love. Go to your friend’s grave and you will understand everything. Goodbye”. Having finished reading the letter, Osamu dropped it from his hands. Every word written in it, now seemed to have been burned into his heart with branding iron. The pain returned with renewed vigour but Osamu pulled an impenetrable mask over his face. He couldn’t let anyone see his weakness and tears, not now. Picking up the letter and folding it in half, Osamu put it back into the envelope and looking into Atsushi’s eyes, said: “I want to be alone. You can go, Atsushi.” But Nakajima hesitated. Noticing this, Dazai hastened to reassure the ability user: “I’m fine, really. Chuuya was just my former partner, that’s all. I was just shocked by his death.” “Sure?” Osamu nodded and even smiled, after which the werewolf left his apartment but was in no hurry to actually leave. He stood right outside the door, bending down under the level of the eye-slit, listening to the sounds inside. Ten minutes later he heard some noise from inside the apartment. Something fell, hitting the floor loudly. Nakajima started knocking on the door but when no one answered, he activated his ability and knocked it out with one blow - and just in time, because Dazai was hanging from the noose, gasping for breath. There was a stool lying on the floor under him. Atsushi turned it upright and quickly climbed onto it. He activated his ability and without touching Dazai, tore the rope with his claws above his head and immediately caught Osamu in his arms, preventing his fall. Carefully placing Dazai on the floor, Atsushi ran to the kitchen for a knife and cut the noose wrapped around Osamu’s neck. “Why, Dazai san!??”, shouted the tiger. Osamu slumped on the floor and started coughing. When the attack passed away, Dazai looked at the werewolf and said: “Because I’m the one who caused his death and I can’t imagine how I can live with this... without Chuuya.” “So, you were close?”, asked Atsushi. “We loved each other but I was so selfish that I didn’t want to admit my feelings, always deeming them as a weakness. In all these years that I knew Chuuya, I just hurt him over and over again and look what it led to, Atsushi. I didn’t realize what I was doing or how he felt until it was too late. Now nothing can be altered. Nakajima hugged Dazai unsurely but he didn’t seem to mind. Atsushi pulled him closer, stroking his head, trying to console him somehow. “Cry, Dazai san. I know from myself that tears help. You can’t keep all this pain inside. It needs a way out.” And Dazai cried, not embarrassed by his tears, not considering them a weakness at that moment, despite the fact that he was not alone. Later, Atsushi went to the kitchen and brought some whiskey left from yesterday’s party into the living room. He drank with Dazai. Osamu talked a lot about Chuuya and their difficult relationship. The werewolf listened attentively, sometimes offering his shoulder for the intoxicated tears. And then Dazai asked: “Do you know when the funeral is?” “No, perhaps tomorrow, unlikely earlier.” Osamu nodded, deciding to call someone from the mafia tomorrow to confirm the date and time. They drank a little more, Dazai smoked a cigarette and then the werewolf walked him to the bedroom and put him to bed. Closer to noon, Osamu dialled Mori’s number and after saying hello, asked about the funeral. “There will be no funeral”, the Port Mafia boss answered dryly. “How can- what?” “Chuuya’s body has disappeared from the morgue this morning.” “How did it disappear? Someone took it away. But why?” “I have no idea who did this. Surveillance cameras did not record exactly how this happened or when. But last night he was still in the morgue and today, he disappeared, straight from the refrigerator for the corpses.” “Some kind of ability?” “Probably.” Dazai hung up and decided to re-read Chuuya’s letter again but he couldn’t find it anywhere. “Where did I keep it? Atsushi!”, Osamu asked, “Did you see where I kept Chuuya’s letter?” “No”, Nakajima replied, “what happened?” “I don’t know. I think I placed the letter on the table but it’s not here. Strange. Help me find it.” “Sure”, Atsushi nodded and began to look for the letter together with Dazai but the ability users never found it. However, the strangeness did not end there. Dazai decided to go to Chuuya’s house and upon entering his lover’s home, was shocked by what he saw. Most of Nakahara’s things had disappeared from the apartment without a trace and those that remained, looked unkempt, as if no one had touched them for many years. A thick layer of dust coated the house, the room looked uninhabited. Instead of Nakahara’s new furniture, the old ones were there, which Chuuya had bought even before Dazai had left the mafia. The entire furnishing of the apartment reminded Osamu of his and Chuuya’s youth, when everything was fine and nothing foreshadowed this tragedy. It made him feel sick, he felt distraught. Dazai walked around, pacing rooms after rooms, examining the old but oh so familiar furniture, things, Chuuya’s clothes. He wanted to howl like a wolf in despair. It was as if he had gone back in time, to five years ago; only the owner of the apartment and these things, seemed to have been absent for more than one year. Examining Chuuya’s dust-covered suit that hung in the closet, Osamu stroked the fabric with his fingers, then took it off the hanger and held it to his chest. Leaning against one of the walls, Dazai slid down to the floor, burying his face in the black fabric. Unable to contain his sorrow, Dazai clasped his head with his hands and began to sob again, trying to relieve the pain tearing his heart apart. Remembering the words Chuuya said to him when they were talking through video call and what was written at the end of the farewell letter, Dazai decided to go to the cemetery, because Chuuya told him to. Arriving at his friend’s grave, Osamu was even more shocked, but now everything fell into place. Dazai realized where Chuuya’s body had disappeared to and why his things vanished from his house. The inscription “Nakahara Chuuya” was engraved on the headstone, below which was his date of birth but the date of death remained the same. That is, it turned out that it was not Odasaku who lay in that grave, but Chuuya, and he had died on the day of Sakunosuke’s death. “What does all of this mean?”, Dazai murmured, “Chuuya lies in Odasaku’s grave... So, he died instead of him? How is this possible? Does this mean Oda is alive, or what?” Osamu knelt down near the grave, stroking the memorial stone with his fingers. The words he had so recklessly thrown at Chuuya in the bar were pounding in his head: “I hate you! It would have been so much better if Oda had lived and you had died in his place! Only then would I be happy!” “I don’t know how you did it Chuuya but you made a huge mistake. Did you decide to die instead of Oda to fulfil my wish? What are you, a Hinnagami??" (Hinnagami is an evil spirit that inhabits Japanese dolls and fulfils their owner’s every wish)- Osamu said angrily, “Idiot, what an idiot you are! If I had to choose between swapping places with you now or leaving everything as it is, I would bring you back! I didn’t understand what you meant to me; I didn’t realize how I loved you. Chuuya, you decided everything for both of us, assuming that you gave me a wonderful gift but I don’t remember another worse birthday in my entire fucking life. And now, I can’t even say goodbye because you were buried years ago.” Osamu spent several hours at the grave, then decided to return to Chuuya’s apartment and examine everything again, in hopes of finding some clue on how Chuuya did it and perhaps undo the mistake. Not finding anything in the apartment that could give any answers to his questions, Osamu went to the dormitory. But another surprise awaited him there. The guard did not let Dazai into the dorm, saying that it was his first time seeing him. “Are you for real?”, Dazai was indignant, “I’ve been living here for more than two years now.” “I’ve never seen you before. What’s your last name?” “Dazai! Dazai Osamu!” The guard checked the lists of residents on the computer and said: “This surname isn’t listed in our database. Leave nicely or I’ll have to call the police.” “What nonsense! I work at a detective agency and occupy a place here.” Osamu rummaged through his pockets for his ID but couldn’t find it. Reality struck him like a lightning bolt and he broke into a cold sweat when he noticed the clothes he was wearing. Instead of beige coat and light trousers, Osamu wore a black coat and a suit of the same colour. – “What the hell!” “What’s all the commotion about?”, a familiar voice flowed in from behind somewhere. Osamu turned around and his jaw dropped. “Odasaku?”, Osamu murmured, not believing his eyes. “Dazai?” — the answer sounded no less surprised. – “What are you doing here?”