[Should I chase death or run toward the light? How am I supposed to choose?]
"Dazai, Teacher Yaga said you were hanging yourself when he first met you. Could you tell me why?"
Sato Ichima asked with feigned casualness. The smile he deliberately forced onto his face was so gentle it made me sick.
Ah, unfortunately, some things, some endings, were destined to disappoint. For example...
"I hear you've been researching cursed technique implantation lately, Teacher Sato? That won't work on me, you know, Teacher Sato—"
I answered lightly, smiling as though I were merely making an offhand remark, but the malice in my eyes was practically spilling over. The moment Sato Ichima met my inscrutable, Heterochromic Brown gaze, he looked away.
"You must be joking, Dazai." My single remark silenced Sato Ichima. Then he regained his usual solemn expression, as though nothing had happened.
I had no intention of pretending to be naive in front of a man like him. After all, barring any surprises, neither he nor the man sitting in the driver's seat would survive today.
Uninteresting people didn't deserve my favor. In the end, he was nothing more than a pawn of the Jujutsu Society Higher-Ups, one they could discard at any moment.
But to someone who wasn't particularly bright, any scrap of information they casually tossed his way must have seemed like a blessing.
You understand everything perfectly well, don't you? So where does this inexplicable confidence come from?
It was like driving a tank onto an ancient battlefield, where someone pointed a sword at you, determined to hack apart that iron shell.
They were certain they could kill you. Certain that iron shell would break with a single poke. Certain they could defeat you.
Meanwhile, sitting inside the tank, you would only find the people outside utterly ridiculous.
And the outcome would naturally be an annihilation on an entirely different level.
That was exactly what Sato Ichima looked like now. A few higher-ups had him dancing in circles, promising him status and rewards in exchange for becoming their informant. Once he reported back, however, the plan absolutely could not be exposed. Wasn't it already obvious who would die in this game?
If you learned things you weren't supposed to know and received things you weren't supposed to have, you had to be prepared to die.
But what did his death have to do with me? All I needed to do was stand aside and watch the show. Nothing more.
I disliked warm summer breezes. More precisely, I disliked summer. It was far too hot, as though my very insides were being burned away.
Besides, I still had a red scarf around my neck, which only made it feel hotter. Summer days always dawned far too quickly, while night took far too long to arrive. There was really nothing to like about it.
Of course, jumping into a river on a pleasant, sunny day was acceptable. After all, in summer, you wouldn't feel particularly cold after emerging from the icy water.
Beyond that, there wasn't a single benefit. In the end, I was a creature of the dark...
Ah, I forgot. I'm not Osamu Dazai.
I merely crossed into another world. I don't want to become him. I'm just myself. I should be myself.
My thoughts abruptly stopped. Recalling what I had just intended to do, and what I had already done, I fell silent.
"Truly... unbelievable."
My voice was so faint that even I could barely hear it, but Sato Ichima's hearing seemed exceptionally keen.
"Dazai, what's wrong?"
"Nothing, it's just—nothing at all! Oh, Teacher Sato, when will we get there?"
"Very soon. Just stay close to me when we arrive, Dazai."
"Okay-"
Feigning obedience, I straightened my back and placed both hands neatly on my knees. I looked rather like an elementary school student who had just been scolded by his teacher.
Most people in Jujutsu Society liked to put on an air of mystery, at least when it came to meetings.
So when I stood on a platform that resembled the setting of a tribunal, taking in the oppressive gloom around me and the figures seated behind the screens above, I couldn't help letting out a soft sigh.
"Honestly, why are some people exactly like Mr. Mori? They all love making things so oppressive." I muttered under my breath, keeping my voice just loud enough for others to hear without making out the words.
Sato Ichima had long since left and was waiting outside the door, utterly unaware that death was slowly closing in on him.
"Osamu Dazai."
An aged voice, rough as old tree bark, sounded in my ears, accompanied by an intensely oppressive surge of cursed energy. Of course, No Longer Human nullified it before it even came near my body.
"Yes, yes. What can I do for you gentlemen?"
I dropped my obedient act and nodded with blatant irreverence, standing there without a care as my tone turned mocking.
"...You misrepresented your cursed technique and sought to harm your fellow students. How do you answer these charges?"
The man questioning me from above and to one side fell silent for a moment at my attitude, but he still forced himself to continue.
I could admit to misrepresenting my cursed technique, but wasn't accusing me of harming my fellow students a bit of a stretch?
"My fellow students?"
Confusion briefly flickered through my eyes. The one eye I had left uncovered seemed filled with question marks.
"You stood by and watched your fellow students suffer serious injuries at the hands of a cursed spirit, refusing to help. Isn't that an attempt to harm them?"
"Is that illegal?"
I asked with a thoroughly baffled expression, the corners of my mouth curling up despite myself.
A mafia boss standing before a tribunal and asking whether something was illegal-surely that looked ridiculous, no matter how you viewed it.
"?"
Well, it seemed my question had left that particular higher-up bewildered too.
"For the record, failing to save someone does not constitute a crime. Under criminal law, an ordinary person has no obligation to render aid to another. We are merely classmates, which does not qualify as a special circumstance."
"Besides, I didn't know whether my cursed technique erased techniques or merely suppressed them. There was a special grade cursed spirit in front of me, and I was a newcomer who had only joined Jujutsu Society a day earlier. Isn't it perfectly normal that I froze in fear?"
"And didn't I save them in the end? They're fine."
The more I spoke, the more reasonable I found my own argument. By the end, I was defending myself with complete conviction, catching the Jujutsu Society Higher-Ups off guard with criminal law.
"...You cannot judge Jujutsu Society's affairs from an ordinary person's perspective!"
"Are you not Japanese, then? Or does your Jujutsu Society exist outside the world, free to ignore everything?"
"...You, you..."
He seemed furious. After slamming his hand heavily against the table in front of him, he said nothing more. Eventually, another, deeper voice reached my ears.
"We will set that matter aside for now. Osamu Dazai, why did you conceal your cursed technique?"
"I already explained that. I didn't know whether my cursed technique suppressed or erased things, so I reported it as suppression."
"How could you not know what your own cursed technique is?"
"I'm just an ordinary person who only recently joined Jujutsu Society. How would I know something like that?"
I feigned innocence, asking with a bewildered expression. My eyes looked even more vulnerable now.
Of course I knew these excuses were useless. But staying here and arguing with them wasn't what I needed to do.
Barring any surprises, someone should be arriving about now, shouldn't they?
At that thought, my lips curved faintly as I looked at the people above me as though they were already dead.
Then a loud shout rang out from outside.
"We're under attack!"
"We're under attack! It's the Sorcerer Killer!"
Unfortunately, the words had barely left the speaker's mouth before one of the people on the raised platform had his throat slit. Blood sprayed across the screen, then streamed and dripped down from the edge of the platform, spreading toward my feet.
The scene instantly descended into chaos. Sorcerers unleashed a dazzling barrage of abilities, while Jujutsu Society's higher-ups unanimously chose to flee at once under escort.
I, too, pretended to be terrified, stumbling out through the doors with the fleeing Jujutsu Society Higher-Ups.
Only once they had all either driven away in their private cars or left for somewhere else did I lightly wipe my bloodstained shoes against the soft carpet outside the door.
Then I strolled unhurriedly toward a secluded grove. There, I found Sato Ichima on the verge of death, along with a certain Assistant Supervisor who was already dead.
"Ah~ Teacher Sato, you don't look very well."
I still wore the same expression as when we first met: an unchanging smile, an inscrutable air, and eyes that seemed like an abyss as they met his.
"Help, help..."
His blood had already spread across the ground. He looked at me as though he had found his last lifeline, his lips endlessly murmuring words that no longer formed coherent sentences.
"It's already too late, sir. You can go in peace. Even so, I won't be collecting your body."
Still like a perfectly happy child, I stood calmly before the two bodies and spoke those cruel words.
But I had already been merciful enough. After all, if I had personally put him through my interrogation methods, he would truly have suffered a fate worse than death.
I chuckled softly. There was nothing sincere in my smile, yet its gentleness and emptiness were terrifying. I was supposed to wait here for someone.
Still, looking at the blood spreading around me once more, I couldn't help sighing inwardly.
"Honestly, my shoes are dirty again. How lucky you are, reaching the Sanzu River before me. I'm so jealous."
"Sir-"
As I spoke, I moved farther away from the pool of blood. Inwardly, however, I also crossed having my throat cut off the list of ways I might die next.
I don't want a suicide method that's neither pretty nor clean!
Hanging myself would be easier than that.
The sun is so harsh today. Why does the sunlight always manage to shine through the leaves and land on me? It makes me go to such lengths to avoid it every time.
I disliked seeing corpses in certain places. Although the bodies themselves left me indifferent, any blood that got on my shoes or clothes meant they had to be washed again.
And washing things was even more troublesome for me. Clearly, I should prepare a few extra sets. If one got dirty, I could simply destroy it.
Mm! That settles it.
Before you continue