Masamichi Yaga
It was the tenth anniversary of Osamu Dazai's death. As always, Masamichi Yaga went to the Old Site of the former Jujutsu Society Higher-Ups.
Over those ten years, Masamichi Yaga had visited the Old Site countless times. Now, whenever he saw the buildings newly erected there, he sighed.
Ten years ago, the student he was proudest of had died in that fire, which had seemed intent on burning everything to ashes.
Before his death, however, he had put every last arrangement in place.
It was hard for Masamichi Yaga not to suspect that his most accomplished student had long since decided to head toward death.
Just as he had told Yaga. Just as his reason for joining Jujutsu Society had suggested.
Even now, Masamichi Yaga had not forgotten that eighteen- or nineteen-year-old standing before him, lifting his head to gaze at the quietly rising sun, and telling him in a voice faintly hoarse with tears, "Teacher Yaga, I haven't found a reason to live."
What had he said back then?
In an attempt to comfort the boy, he had blurted out that perhaps that meaning was not to be found in Jujutsu Society.
He had never imagined that, even with all his effort, he would fail to keep him in this world.
Sometimes, Masamichi Yaga stared at the world in a daze. Looking back over the years, only a handful of the students he had taught before becoming principal-Satoru Gojo, Suguru Geto, and Shoko Ieiri-had survived to graduation.
Being a jujutsu sorcerer had always meant entering a profession that claimed countless lives. Yet people often deliberately overlooked that fact, believing they would never be among the unlucky ones.
But Osamu Dazai was probably the only one who pursued death and ran toward it.
In the end, that boy had never found a reason to live, so he had chosen his own ending.
Masamichi Yaga stood alone, staring blankly at the newly built tower. Before his eyes, he seemed to see that seemingly cheerful, lively boy once again, putting on his good-boy act in front of him.
He had never feared death. He had longed for it...
"So I should wish him well."
Masamichi Yaga murmured softly. Yet as dusk approached, he quietly turned and threw the flowers he still held into a trash can.
"Satoru is doing well. So is Geto. If you can see them..."
Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto
On the third day after Osamu Dazai's death, Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto received an audio tape.
What was on that tape was utterly unbelievable to them.
The two boys sat together in near silence, looking at each other. They could not be sure whether the recording was genuine, but hearing Osamu Dazai's voice left them silent.
After a frantic search by the Gojo Clan, they finally traced the tape's origin to an ordinary small city.
And so, without any warning, Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto met their lifelong nemesis, Toji Zenin.
Without stopping to hear each other out, they argued and fought. Even afterward, the two immature boys still refused to believe that Dazai, the senior they respected and adored, had instigated that battle.
But after seeing the messages Osamu Dazai had sent Toji Zenin, they fell utterly silent.
Neither of them could explain how they felt. It was as though even their futures had been within Osamu Dazai's predictions.
Everything was impossible to foresee, yet equally impossible to fathom.
Revenge? They could hardly call it that. After all, the person who had forced them into a desperate battle and cost them a friend was already dead.
And the last time that person had met them before his death, it had been to help Suguru Geto see things more clearly.
For a while, neither could find anything to say to the other. Yet hearing Toji Zenin say that they had simply been on different sides left them even more unsettled.
They did not attend the funeral. It was not as though he was there anyway.
But in the very end, without consulting each other, both chose the path Osamu Dazai had laid out for them.
In two years, they used the people Osamu Dazai had left behind to overturn the old policies, carrying on at Jujutsu High while also keeping busy serving as higher-ups.
Only occasionally-just occasionally-they missed that senior of theirs.
The senior who loved speeding, who would fool around and drink with them, and whose favorite everyday pastime was suicide.
Toji Zenin
His boss's death did not seem to affect Toji Zenin.
After all, as far as feelings went, theirs had merely been a relationship of mutual exploitation.
As Osamu Dazai's most useful and resilient blade at the time, Toji Zenin had been sent out to do countless dirty jobs.
But since it was a business arrangement, Toji Zenin had no complaints.
Just as he never asked what Osamu Dazai intended to do, if his employer did not tell him, he did not ask. That was his professional code as an assassin.
In fact, that very code had persuaded Osamu Dazai to leave him a little breathing room.
After all, most of the people in much the same line of work as Toji Zenin whom Osamu Dazai had recruited as subordinates had already...
From the moment Osamu Dazai had killed the first person with a smile, Toji Zenin had understood one thing.
Never make trouble for the boss. It would make your entire life miserable.
And that had indeed proved true. All he remembered was that, a month after he became the boss's subordinate, the boss had grown extraordinarily unhinged.
So unhinged that he had toppled numerous clans within half a month, striking with ruthless speed.
But did that have anything to do with a blade like him?
No...
He only needed to do his job as a subordinate. That was all.
Only sometimes, when his phone chimed and he opened it, he would see the chat he had never deleted.
The chat that had gone completely gray, along with some of the assignments his boss had once sent him.
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