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lavidadelavie · 2 years

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Thinking about Dazai's memories

I think it's interesting how we basically got two sets of Dazai's memories within 3 months, so since I analyzed the Beast ones, I thought I'd analyze these as well. As always it's just me rambling under the cut, and remember guys that below there are spoilers from everything up until this point!

The first memory memory we see is a completely new one. I love it when montages use new memories instead of simply reusing what was shown before, so I appreciate this little scene. Their outfits are taken from chapter 31 and seeing Chuuya in these clothes was so strangely nostalgic. The only difference is that Dazai has his arm broken instead of his leg. Also I like how young they look here. They're just kids annoying each other just like Dazai is saying in the background.

The second memory I'm pretty sure is also one of the new scenes we haven't seen before. It looks like Fifteen, but I don't recognize this background and the closest illustration I could find is the one from the light novel. Maybe it's supposed to show how they gained confidence and were ruling the city (judging by the building in the background), but yeah that's all I have.

After that I noticed a scene from chapter 31 in bottom left. It's taken right from the manga with no changes besides Chuuya's jacket being coloured in. Considering Dazai's fascination with corruption, it makes sense that it appears in his memories. Here, it's been 4 years since they fought together and it's the first time Dazai could observe Chuuya being possessed in a long time. Interestingly, it's not corruption in its peak that's portrayed here but the moment when Dazai is bringing Chuuya back to his senses. With the context of this chapter, it might mean that Dazai wants to protect Chuuya and despite liking danger and sending Chuuya to fight directly, he cares about him.

Bottom right seems to be from chapter 31 as well, just slightly changed. And that also makes sense because these are supposed to be his memories, so he might not remember each detail perfectly. It's the moment when Dazai sends Chuuya into action, which is something I already mentioned. Dazai likes to see Chuuya fight and to tease him, and this chapter had both.

With this next one I have no idea which scene it could be. I'm like 75% sure it's from their first meeting after 4 years back in chapters 10 and 11, but it's a reach. We only have Dazai's legs, a bit of his coat and Chuuya's shoulder, so there's not a lot to work with. But it does make sense for it to be from their first meeting after 4 years, because it was important for them both. Dazai stayed in that dungeon partially because he wanted to talk with Chuuya and this is what this memory could be alluding to. My first thought was Dazai leaving Chuuya behind after Oda's death, but I don't think he got his coat right this soon.

Then we have one of the most iconic skk scenes from Storm Bringer. Not to spoil it too much, but in this scene Chuuya decides to save Yokohama even if it means never getting to know if he's a human being. In this scene he trusts Dazai's plan and goes into action, something Dazai must be looking back at fondly. I kinda wish we had the scene in which he catches Chuuya after the fight, but I guess it would be too fluffy for this angsty chapter.

And I left 2 memries that I thought were the most interesting additions for last. The firts one being this scene from Dead Apple and I'm so happy that it made it here for a few reasons. First of all now we have a proof that Dead Apple is canon in the manga. I know it was canon before, but it wasn't mentioned or anything, so there was this shadow of doubt. Now, it's 100% canon. The other reason is that I'd love to see Dead Apple with Harukawa's art style and it's great that we now have this scene even though it's just a shadow. I wondered how it would be shown in the main manga and now I don't have to anymore. It also looks way more desperate than in the movie or Dead Apple manga, because of the wind and how Chuuya reaches his arm to Dazai before he punches him. It's also most likely Dazai's imagination, since he was unconscious when it happened.

And last but absolutely not least (on the contrary, I wanted to hype it up), we have one of the most iconic skk scenes, and here comes the question, is it even from Fifteen? Because as we can see, the positions of hands are swapped and Dazai isn't wearing this brace type of thing on his arm. This scene isn't in the original light novel, so either Asagiri and Harukawa were like screw it, we're adding it to the canon or it's a different instance. And if it's a different situation, then what was this fight? It's also possible that the positions are switched because it's Dazai's pov not Chuuya's like in the anime. Either way hand-holding is now canon and I'm so happy about this fact.

In conclusion

Dazai's memories with Chuuya seem to be a mix of their fights with enemies and some other moments they shared as well, putting an emphasis not on the fights themselves (since there are no other people and they aren't in combat stances), but their connection throught them. I wish we got to see more scenes, but I understand going overboard could be on overkill, especially if it's just a cliffhanger death meant to fool us. It's hard to judge Dazai's reaction, because he could be putting on a show, but it also seems to be genuine and cherishing these memories would make sense for his character. I'm so glad we got to see this little peek into Dazai's mind and his memories, and now I want more.

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lavidadelavie · 2 years

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Wait ok if it was confirmed that Inochi no Tabekata happened before knk does that mean that all the MVs also happened before knk? I mean they could but like in Last Dance, Tokyo has a big ass crater thing in the middle of the city is that something that happened like years ago and people are fine with it and agreed it is now a Tokyo thing or what?

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lavidadelavie · 2 years

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Living Idly and Dying as if Dreaming

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lavidadelavie · 2 years

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i love this art sm

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lavidadelavie · 2 years

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the Buraiha trio as youkais, if anyone needs them (this art is old and I spent too much time to find it)

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lavidadelavie · 2 years

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the Buraiha trio as youkais, if anyone needs them (this art is old and I spent too much time to find it)

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lavidadelavie · 2 years

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WOZWALD theory post

A comprehensive explanation post on the vocaloid song WOZWALD by Niru Kajitsu ft. v_flower, a song about the evils of humanity, the definition of happiness, and possibly Walt Disney.

CW: depression, suicide

Keep reading

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lavidadelavie · 2 years

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The Day I Picked Up Dazai - Side B (3)

Read Previous Part Here: Part 1 | Part 2

This is the translation from page 19 to page 35 of Side B of the Dazai novel which was given out as free bonus for those who come to the cinema to watch the BEAST live action movie in Japan.

I HIGHLY recommend you to read Side A first before moving on to this one more context, better understanding, and easier comparison between the two sides. You can find the link to the tag with all Side A translations I have done in my pinned post.

Please also carefully read the notes below before progressing. - This post contains spoilers. If you plan to read the novel later yourself and think this would ruin your expectation, please stop here.

· I tried to keep the translation as accurate as possible, but as I don’t speak English or Japanese as my native language, I may make some mistakes or use weird words etc. This translation might not be final. I may come back and fix it later if I find any mistakes.

· This is a moviegoers-only benefit, so please be extra careful when discussing it about on Twitter. Use a #spoilers tag on your tweets or your fanarts. You can share the links to this post but don’t take many screenshots.

· Don’t retranslate it. Don’t repost this anywhere else out of Tumblr.

· DON’T GO TO THE AUTHORS’ OR OFFICIAL TWITTERS TO COMMENT ABOUT THE CONTENTS OF IT.

I’m sorry if that’s too much but honestly all I want is for everyone to have a good experience, for those who wants to read the novels to be able to read the novels, and for those who don’t want to be spoiled, to be safe from it as much as possible.

If you have read and are okay with all the above, please continue to move forward and enjoy the novel. Have a good day!

...

That young former cop has no idea what has happened to him.

He was abducted while he was patrolling the underground bunker, but he only realized that he has been abducted much later, when he found himself in the dark, unable to move a muscle.

He is sitting. On a piece of concrete at the foot of a pile of debris, like a prisoner. He just woke up and cannot understand what condition he is in. However, even before his brain wakes up, he is clearly aware of one thing. Pain.

His body is in pain. A heavy, sharp pain is rushing through his whole body like an unpleasant signal, making his skin tingle. But he can’t tell where the pain is from. More than half of his brain is still buried in a muddy coma.

This is an abandoned section in the depth of the underground bunker.

About ten years ago, there was an explosion of an oxygen cylinder used for emergency rescue here, and it has been in half-collapsed state ever since.

There are gaps crawling like living creatures on the wall and the ceiling, and countless debris piling up. The debris comes in different sizes, from the size of a fist to the size of a car. And the steel wires used as foundation material are poking out from the gaps like wild plants.

He is sitting at the end of a dimly lit tunnel, in a narrow passage blocked by debris. On top of the debris that is just the height of a chair. Or rather, he has been sat there.

He cannot move on his own.

Because his hands and feet have been fixed. His two hands are sandwiched between large pieces of debris. From the elbows up, they are tightly pinned by the debris that looks like a mouth closing. The debris is not heavy enough to crush his arms right now, but it is not light enough for him pull his arms out by himself.

“This… is…”

His voice is cracking in despair.

Because he saw his feet.

Two big stakes are piercing through the insteps of his feet, into the floor.

They are old construction wooden stakes. They have the thickness of a thumb, old and rusty. They are piercing through his leather shoes, his skin, his flesh, his soles and finally into the floor. Fresh blood is still there, spreading in circle on the ground.

Someone has stitched his feet to the floor with those stakes. For what?

“You are feeling the pain.”

A cracked voice comes from the darkness.

The young cop turns to the voice with a frightened face.

“Pain is good. Pain is proof that you are alive. There are even better things. As the pain gets stronger, it can control us, change the way we think, and sometimes even blow away our personality. Do you know why that is a good thing, Toda Akihiko-kun?”

The voice is intimidating, assertive, and filled with raw danger like a bleeding wound. It is high-pitched as that of a young boy, but it lacks the human-like characteristics a young boy should have.

The man in the shadow. That is Dazai.

“It is because it continues to show us that our personality, our soul, is nothing but a convenient and unstable hypothesis based on primitive instincts such as pain and fear.”

Dazai smiles thinly. Most of his face is covered in bandages, so that smile can only be seen through his slightly narrowed eyes and his mouth, which is distorted and white like the shape of a shamshir.

“You are… the injured person… at the house…” The cop named Toda speaks in a wheezing tone, as a person with a faint consciousness would do. “How do you… know my name?”

“I know almost everything.” Dazai says in a gentle, soothing voice as he approaches Toda. “You are a member of the criminal organization “48”. You used to be a local police officer, but you joined the organization after being invited by a former senior at work. You live near the lower reaches of the Tsurumi river, under the overhead lines. Your parents and sister run a brewery in Shinshu. You do not put the money you earn here into a bank account, but hide it inside a safe at a dumping site. That is wise.”

“Wha..”

Dazai speaks with cold eyes, looking down at the pale cop.

“No need to worry. I am not interested in hurting you. Now tell me what you know about the “painting”, everything.”

“What… painting? Who the hell are you? How do you know my nam…”

“Wrong answer.”

Dazai interrupts the guy and kicks him the leg, as if he does not give a damn. That is a light movement, like rolling a pebble with your toes, but it makes the cop throw his head backward and scream.

“Gyaaaaaahhhh!”

The stakes piercing through his foot shake his bones and nerves when he is kicked, and send the pain throughout his whole body.

“Honestly speaking, I don’t really want to talk to you either. So, I have to ask you to refrain from unnecessary talk. Just talk about the “painting”. How do you know that Odasaku has it? How do you even know that the painting is valuable in the first place?”

“I…” the cop’s face becomes distorted. That is the face of someone whose pain is accumulating and running all over his body.

“I don’t … know.”

“Oh?” Dazai lifts his eyebrows. However, other than that, his expression is completely flat and calm.

“That’s the truth! I just joined so I know almost nothing! I only know that the guy named Oda is hiding a painting that’s worth hundred millions of yens!”

“Toda-kun.” Dazai walks up to the cop then places his hand on a piece of debris. “This is the hideout of your organization. It means that there are many of your “replacements” here. If you think that you can save yourself by convincing me that you know nothing, you have made a mistake. I won’t feel, nor care at all if the like of you dies.”

The cop can feel cold sweat squirting from his whole body. This young man is not lying. It shows in his eyes. That this young man is only seeing him as a fly in his kitchen.

“I saw you guys’ torture earlier. I am a little relieved.” Dazai’s smile is as thin as a piece of paper. “Cops might be experts in investigation, but not experts in torture. You can’t even make anyone tell you the time the clock on the wall says with that child’s fight-like torture. How about I tell you the right way to do it?”

Dazai says so as he picks up a piece of debris under his feet. It weights a few kilograms. One can pick it up without much trouble if they use both hands.

“What do you think I’m going to do with this?”

Dazai raises the debris. The cop stiffens. If that thing is swung down on his head, his skull will break. He wants to run away, but he can’t because both his arms and legs are locked.

Dazai stares coldly at his opponent for a moment, before his mouth finally twists into a sneer.

“Not this.” Dazai shakes his head.

“I am not going to hit you with this. I’m tired and my hands hurt. Pros do not use unnecessary force. The correct answer is this.”

Dazai puts the debris down. On top of the huge and flat piece on the cop’s arms. The cop frowns from the impact of the large mass.

“And that’s it. How is it? Are you disappointed? Torturing always starts with the softer stuff, you know. That way, it will give you more time to imagine. Because the greatest fear of a human being is the fear toward their own imagination.”

With that said, Dazai picks up another piece of debris and put it on the same plate.

“It is not a big deal with just one or two, right? But what if there are ten? What if there are twenty? Your arms are locked, while the weight is gradually added to the top. You are only feeling some pressure and pain now, but there will be a limit. Give it some time, and slowly, your bones will break, your hands will be crushed. I will just add it up little by little, so that you have a lot of time to imagine it.”

The blood slowly drains from the cop’s face. Complex thoughts are gone from his eyes. What’s left is only the most primitive and simple feelings.

“That!” Dazai pokes the guy’s forehead, entertained. “That is fear. The fear towards one’s own imagination. No-one can rob anyone of their imagination. Now, let us continue.”

One more piece is picked up and placed on top. The pressure starts from his elbows to the tips. Cold sweats slip down from the cop’s cheek.

It is clear to him what is about to happen. His arms will break. The bones bearing the weight of all the debris are mainly the forearm’s radius and ulna, the lunate, scaphoid and triquetral bones at the base of the hand. And the finger joints. You put a weight on these bones and they will start breaking in order, from the point where the force is most concentrated.

It is said that compared to the pain of a flesh wound, the pain from a broken bone is way more intense, unpleasant and unbearable to anybody.

Moreover, in a normal fracture, the bone will only break at one most pressured point. In this torture, however, once a bone has broken, the force will concentrate on a new point and have it broken anew. The fracture points will link to one another and ultimately, the bones will be shattered like they have been put through a wood crusher, and his arms will end up becoming a flat mattress mixed of flesh and blood.

And it will take a long, long time till he gets there.

“I beg you. Please stop it!”

The cop screams out, trying to escape. But it is hardly a meaningful movement. He barely lifts his hips. His hands are pinned down, his legs are locked by stakes. He can’t even change his position, let alone escape.

“Answer my question then.”

Dazai leans against the flat debris board, adding weight to it.

“Gyahhhh!!”

The cop’s arms start to crack under the newly added pressure from Dazai’s lounging.

“Tell me about the painting. I came here for that. It is so easy to destroy your organization. But I have to take care of that painting first. That is Phase one of the plan.”

“Phase one?”

The cop asks with a puzzled voice. He has no idea what his torturer is saying.

There is no-one who can understand it in this world yet.

“I know everything. About you, about your organization, about what happens next.” Dazai’s voice cracks as if he is subduing something inside. “I just want to know about the painting. Because Odasaku will die at this rate. I have to know the painting’s whereabout to change the future.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know what you are talking about. I am just an underling here. I really don’t know anything.”

“Is that so?”

Another piece is loaded. The cop groans. Then, he gathers all the strength he has to pull his arms out. That’s the only way to survive.

His two arms tense up, his joints become pale and see-through. The cop holds his breath and exerts an unusual strength one normally can’t have. He manages to move his arm slightly outward.

But that is all he can do.

“It’s useless.” Dazai says with a voice that even exudes tenderness. “If you try with all you’ve got, you might be able to pull your arms out now. But you won’t. The concrete’s surface is rough. If you try too hard, your skin will come off somewhere. Plus, the further you pull, the smaller the contact surface will become and the more weight will be put on your skin. In other words, you will have to pull your arms all the way out, while feeing your skin being torn off and your exposed flesh being cut by the concrete. I wonder if you can continue the act of grinding your own body till the end?

Fear runs through the cop’s face. His arms loosen. With a ragged breath, he curves his body.

“See?” Dazai smiles. “Your will, your soul is screaming at you to pull your arms out. But your imagination gives birth to your fear, and that fear is stopping you from pulling them out. That’s why I told you. Our personality, our soul, is nothing but a convenient and unstable hypothesis based on primitive instincts such as pain and fear. Today, in this moment, your pain is your master and your king. So, you will speak. You will definitely speak.”

The cop’s body trembles in fear. This is the fear of pain, the fear of his imagination. But the most frightening of all is the young man in front of him, the king of the Pain land, the one who creates pains and controls pains.”

“You… who the hell are you? How can you do this?”

“I’m a pain expert.” Dazai puts his face closer to the cop’s as he says that, as if he is revealing a secret.

“That’s right. You want an excuse for yourself. Let me give you one then. I’m a Port Mafia’s executive.”

Upon hearing that, the cop bounces as if he is having a seizure. The color of regret surfaces to his eyes. The muscles from all over his body stiffen up. For a moment, he forgets everything about the debris on his arms, and the stakes on his feet.

“I get it. I will tell you. I will tell you everything. I didn’t know. I didn’t know that this is the kind of job that will piss off the Port Mafia!” The guy shakes his hair and screams. “I will pay whatever you want. I will sell out as many of my men as you want. So please help me. I beg you. Please save me!”

The cop has fallen, as easily as that. Dazai smiles thinly.

“How did you know about the painting?” Dazai asks.

“We heard from an art dealer.” The blood runs in the cop’s eyes, as he is trying his best to trace his memories. He finally realizes that every single word he says will decide his life and his dignity.

“That guy runs a small gallery on the Harbor Street, but he is also involved in forgery trades behind the scenes. People call him the Grey Merchant. That guy was arrested last month because he messed up. He sold a painting to a customer knowing it was a fake.”

“It looks like your throat has become a little smoother.” Dazai smiles, sitting down on a nearby piece of debris. “So?”

“Then the city police started looking through his other charges. They didn’t find any major crimes, but they suspected him of a pretty big incident. Fencing.

“Oh?” Dazai tilts his head. “Keep going.”

The cop speaks in a broken voice to endure the pain.

It was that dealer’s biggest job ever. He was secretly selling stolen goods from Europe. It was a big painting that has to be carried by two people, showing a farmer couple working diligently in a Medieval European landscape. It was painted by a member of a noble family in Europe in the 14th century, and was called the best work of its time.

That painting was stolen from an international art museum in France, by a group of skilled thieves. The culprits fled to Japan, where they contacted the art dealer to convert that painting into cash. The dealing of stolen goods – fencing - was familiar to that art dealer. However, the scale of the job that time was too large. It was a painting with a historical value. News of the theft had, of course, spread around the world, making it harder to find a buyer.

However, the dealer finally got that job done. The ultimate person who bought the painting was an extremely wealthy Japanese man. A man who made a fortune out of an aircraft importing business, a man who had a love for expensive arts. Or rather, he was in love with himself who owns expensive arts. That wealthy man hung the painting in the basement of his house. He had no intention of showing it to anyone. He was content with just showing it to himself.

That is why after he was arrested, the first thing the dealer thought about was the painting that he sold. The whereabout of that painting has become an international concern. If they found just a hint of it, the Europol would show up. If that happened, the severity of the investigation as well as the charges would be far greater than when the Yokohama City Police was in charge.

Therefore, the dealer came to criminal organization “48” to ask them to erase the evidences of the deal. That was one of the things “48” was good at. Through the help of their collaborators inside the police, they can steal evidences from the evidence storage room, or rewrite them with criminal records. The price varies depending on the severity of the crime to be erased, but “48”’s thorough understanding of the investigation process makes them very popular when it comes to this stuff, and they never run out of requests.

“48”’s movement was fast. They erased the travel records of the thieves and replaced the surveillance videos of the area near the warehouse used for fencing transactions. They had the knowledge they had gained through their career, and a thorough persistence on top of that. Even when they had switched from day to night, from law keepers to outlaws, no one could take that persistence away from them.

However, that was as far as they got. There were two problems.

The wealthy man who bought the painting had been killed.

And the painting had disappeared.

The man was killed in his own house. Together with his family. There was no lead to the killer. In fact, it was unknown how the killer broke in, how he killed him and by what kind of weapon.

The only thing known is that he was instantly killed by a shot in the head at close range. The rifling marks on the bullet didn’t match any records in file.

That was clearly done by a professional hitman.

And the painting was missing. So, there is only one possibility.

The killer knew the value of the painting and stole it.

“Impossible.” Dazai is stunned. “Are you saying that the hitman was Odasaku, and that he stole the painting?”

“How else could it be?” The cops says as he tries to suppress the pain. “The records show that when the murder scene was inspected, the painting had already been gone. Of course, he might have let go of it himself, right before he was killed, but if he wanted to transfer such a hard-to-sell painting like that, he would have used the same dealer for sure!”

Dazai stays completely still, his eyes looking at the middle of nowhere.

He rests himself on the debris without saying a word. Simply thinking in silence. His eyes are open without looking at anything, as if he has even forgot to breath.

“Got it.”

When Dazai finally opens his mouth after a long pause, that voice completely lacks emotions. No mockery, no cruelty, not even a carnivorous smile, nothing. A complete hollow.

Then he pulls out a gun.

He points the muzzle at the cop’s head.

“Wa.. wait! Why? I told you everything! I betrayed my organization and told you everything. There is nothing else, I swear!”

“You really don’t listen to others.” There is nothing left in Dazai’s voice, not even the ruthlessness. There is nothing in there. Not even a sign of someone holding a gun, nor talking to a human being.

“I told you. I won’t feel, nor care at all if the like of you dies. And there is one more thing I have not told you yet.”

Dazai bends his finger.

“I hate your organization.”

Gunshot.

…

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lavidadelavie · 2 years

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The Day I Picked Up Dazai - Side B (2)

Read Previous Part Here: Part 1

This is the translation from page 11 to page 18 of Side B of the Dazai novel which was given out as free bonus for those who come to the cinema to watch the BEAST live action movie in Japan.

I HIGHLY recommend you to read Side A first before moving on to this one, especially part 2-5 for more context, better understanding, and easier comparison between the two sides. You can find the link to the tag with all Side A translations I have done in my pinned post.

· Don’t retranslate it. Don’t repost this anywhere else out of Tumblr.

· DON’T GO TO THE AUTHORS’ OR OFFICIAL TWITTERS TO COMMENT ABOUT THE CONTENTS OF IT.

If you have read and are okay with all the above, please continue to move forward and enjoy the novel. Have a good day!

...

The time the police appear at my house, is one of those times.

“Excuse me, we are from S River Station. Someone reported seeing a man covered in blood collapsing in this neighborhood. Can we ask you a few things?”

Through the window designed for lighting on the door, I see male figures. Two of them.

I freeze. I am in the middle of boiling water to make coffee in the kitchen at that time.

“Excuse me. This is the police. Is anyone home?”

The unreserved knocking shakes the door again and again. I glance at the young man. The young man whose name I don’t know. He is not showing any human-like reaction even to the voices outside.

What will happen if they find him? I quickly think. In all probability, this guy has been involved in some kind of criminal activities. And he is also seeing and committing crimes like breathing… Someone from the other side, the side of the night. Otherwise, there is no way someone who had been shot all over his body like that would not have gone to the hospital. In other words, the cops will see him as a treasure, instead of an injured person. So that they can improve their arrest record.

On the other hand, I haven’t committed any crime so far. I just took care of an injured person I saw. It is the duty of a citizen to report as soon as they find someone with gunshot wounds, but if I tell them, “I didn’t realize it was caused by gun”, the cops will have no choice but to back down. Like, I thought he was stabbed or something. It is not that difficult to identify a gunshot wound, but there is currently no crime defined in the criminal law for failing to do so.

In other words, even if I sell this young man to the cops, I can walk away without any claim.

I walk to the front door. To talk to the cops.

I will come up with an excuse to send them away. I think so. If I am going to sell this young man here and now, I would not have treated his wounds in the first place.

But that stupid dedication of mine can’t be achieved. Something completely out of my expectation has happened. The young man rushes to the door.

He is ridiculously fast. Like a tightly shrunken spring being released in an instant. He slams open the front door and attacks the cops.

It is an unpredictable action for everyone. It never crosses my mind that he can possess such agility. He leaps with a speed no one can expect from an injured person, and jumps onto the shoulder of the surprised cop, before sinking his fingers into the man’s face.

The cop lets out a brief scream. He goes berserk and slams the young man against the wall near the doorway. But still the youth doesn’t let him go. He clings onto the cop in a piggyback position, and shoves the fingers on both of his hands into the man’s ears. He put all the strength in as if he is trying to rip his ears apart. From the young man’s throat comes a fierce roar of a beast. He pulls his fingers out. The fingertips are soaked in blood. He thrusts them in again.

The cop uses his free arms to grab his attacker’s body and falls into the room just like that. The wooden floor makes a cracking sound as it breaks.

The slightly younger cop who isn’t attacked finally pulls out his gun as if he just remembers it now. That is a swing-out double-action revolver. He aims it at the young man.

No warning is made. I see the future where that gun is fired.

I start to move too. I approach the cop and grab his pistol. I slide my thumb between the barrel and the firing pin. This way, the firing pin won’t be able to hit the primer and the bullet will not come out.

I look at the cop. He looks back at me angrily.

There is a light sound of something dropping behind my back.

Something metallic. I want to look back but I am in a bad position. My right hand is holding the gun. The wall is on my left. I cannot turn around. This is bad.

Something white is weaving at the edge of my vision.

I didn’t see the moment that thing was thrown. But it is probably the cop who threw it. Because I don’t stock such dangerous things at home. A gas grenade.

That is a black, cylindrical personal weapon. It emits non-lethal coma gas. It lasts for twelve seconds, and can emit 2.8 kiloliters of gas. This gas was once used as a substitute for anesthesia for surgery in the Great War. Those who inhale it will find their consciousness fading away. It depends on the concentration of the gas, but generally most will faint before they can even count to ten. If inhaled in large volume, it can be fatal.

I grab my mouth and nose with my hand. Then I try to find the young man. A gas grenade is not something city police officers can carry around on patrol.

These guys are not cops.

But something is moving at the edge of my vision. The younger cop has let go of his gun and thrown himself at me.

We tangle together and fall onto the floor. He hits my chest so hard that all the air left in my lung is pushed out.

The white smoke wriggles in and fills my vision as I roll on the floor. It is as if I have fallen into the bottom of a white sea. But I can only see that white for a short moment.

I cough, breathe in the gas and lose consciousness almost instantly.

***

There is a sound.

A cold and damp sound.

It is so familiar that it does not sound like a meaningful sound at first. It is a sound that will slip past your consciousness, like the sound of dead leaves rolling, or a train passing by in a distance, that kind of noise. However, it cannot be the same as those noises.

Because it is the sound of Oda Sakunosuke being beaten.

The sound is low and muffled. It does not sound dangerous. It sounds like a sand bag falling. But it is, in fact, a dangerous sound.

Dazai knows that.

Because he has been living with it soaking up to his throat for a dauntingly long amount of time.

“Before we start, let me tell you this.” said a voice. The voice of an aged man.

“I don’t like violence.”

The man is holding a blackjack as he speaks. Dazai sees that. Dazai is looking at the man. He is looking hard at him. Through those sharp and dark eyes behind the face hidden by bandages.

“I don’t like it when people use violence. I don’t like to use it either. So just think about this as business.”

The club is swung down. On the back of the tied up Odasaku. Dazai is staring at that.

Dazai is standing in the corridor of the bunker, where it is completely dark. The distance between him and Odasaku is more than ten meters. Because of the darkness and the distance, Odasaku and the other guy cannot see Dazai. In fact, they wouldn’t even notice Dazai if he came within an arm’s reach. That is how much Dazai has melt into a dense shadow and become one with the darkness himself.

Dazai is looking. He is simply looking hard at Odasaku being beaten.

The club being swung down. Odasaku groaning.

Seeing that violence doesn’t even make his eyes move. His eyes are as still as those of a dead man, not showing the slightest flicker of emotion.

However, every time the club goes down, Dazai’s fingers twitch. His joints automatically jump and his muscles tense up. And every time, thin white streaks rise to the surface of his fingers. His fingers bend as if they are grasping something invisible. It is as if he himself is being beaten.

Dazai has become one with the darkness. That is why no one is able to find Dazai.

However, the elder torturer reacts to the killing intention he emits, which pulsates with every downswing of the club.

“Who is that?”

The man turns around toward the darkness. He can’t see anything. The darkness is deep and dense as mud.

He stops the torture and walks out, to check if anyone is there. Because he cannot help it. Because his experience is giving him a warning.

He finally reaches the place where Dazai was.

However, there is already no one there.

There is only darkness. As if no one was there from the beginning. It’s as if darkness has taken the form of Dazai, and has finally turned back to the original darkness and disappeared.

The man is confused. There is only the unchanging, endless darkness that has been there since the beginning of time.

...

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