Chapter 37

"I'm almost afraid to watch..." Kasumi Miwa had long since cried her eyes swollen. Beside her, Mechamaru fumbled helplessly, wanting to comfort her but not knowing how. Now she covered her face and sobbed, "Why did this have to happen? They're all such good people!"

Momo Nishimiya clung to her as they cried together. Even Mai Zenin's eyes had reddened, though pride kept her from making a sound.

Atsushi Nakajima looked ready to cry, too. "People who can't save others have no value... but how could he do it with such conviction?"

The white-haired boy's golden eyes widened. That man hadn't even known Mr. Dazai, yet he had resolutely lifted Osamu Dazai up and given him the hope of survival.

An impulse stirred in Atsushi Nakajima, an emotion surging through his heart that he couldn't even put into words. He couldn't help looking at the other person involved-

The brown-haired man stared fixedly at the screen. He had held that pose for a long time, but his expression was as impenetrable as ever, revealing none of the emotions hidden beneath it.

Osamu Dazai knew he was beyond saving.

Even though he had barely managed to catch hold of a support, the tsunami hadn't stopped. The entire sea city shook violently, and there was nowhere else nearby to set his feet. His strength wouldn't hold out for long.

What about the others? Dazai had tried looking for them, but at least within his field of vision, Osamu Dazai couldn't find anyone anymore.

Perhaps he was about to die.

Strangely, he didn't feel happy, even though this was the death he had awaited for so long.

For a time, Osamu Dazai had constantly searched for a satisfactory way to die. To him, death was such a precious choice, one he could make only once, that it deserved far more careful consideration than a tediously boring life.

Without a satisfactory death, he would rather remain mired in this filthy world for the time being.

If he died now... Osamu Dazai remembered the initial great migration, then Chen Zhongming and all those people so very much like him, and finally the sight of all humanity uniting to fight back... if he died for people like these, even someone as impossibly particular as Osamu Dazai could find no fault with it.

He could even call it an honor for Osamu Dazai, the bearer of No Longer Human.

But in truth, he didn't want to die, did he?

That was why he had instinctively grabbed the railing and kept himself from falling.

His life wasn't merely his own anymore. He still remembered the person who had fallen, whose name he didn't even know. What story had that man lived through? What had he thought and felt? Dazai knew none of it.

But the one thing he did know was that the man had traded his life for Dazai's slim chance of survival. He couldn't simply die like this.

If he died, perhaps no one in this world would ever remember that ordinary face again.

More frightening than death was being forgotten.

He knew that better than anyone.

Besides, he didn't want to die. They had promised, hadn't they? To witness humanity's final outcome, to see that beautiful future.

But it was no use. The sea city was still shaking violently, and Osamu Dazai could feel his strength draining rapidly. Before long, he would fall.

And rescue wouldn't come. Even if the most dangerous moment had passed, the others still had far, far too much work to do. Though they had filled the breach and restored some power, the sea city remained in danger.

They had more important things to do.

And Osamu Dazai was merely an insignificant nobody.

"A n-nobody?" the Bungo Stray Dogs group murmured. It was hard to imagine. Osamu Dazai was a nobody? Then who counted as somebody?

"It's hardly surprising," Mori Ougai said, clasping his hands beneath his chin. "That Dazai hasn't displayed anything particularly exceptional... besides, in a disaster like that, no one receives special treatment unless they're valuable enough."

Watching the "Dazai" on the screen, Mori Ougai felt a faint stirring in his heart. A "Dazai" who wanted to live... perhaps he really had failed as his guardian. He couldn't achieve that.

Unfortunately, though, that "Osamu Dazai" who wanted to live was about to die. Mori Ougai couldn't imagine any way for him to survive.

"An individual is insignificant before an organization."

That was the principle Mori Ougai had always followed. Even a leader was nothing more than the organization's slave.

Osamu Dazai made a retching face. His expression was downright ugly; he had undoubtedly remembered Oda, who had been abandoned. "You're loathsome enough yourself, Mori. Don't impose those awful ideas of yours on everyone else."

"Truly disgusting." Osamu Dazai's eyes were cold.

"You think I'm wrong, Dazai?" Mori Ougai sounded slightly surprised. "I believe you should be capable of judging for yourself." Like the "Dazai" on the screen, he knew perfectly well that survival was impossible.

"Then let's make a bet." Osamu Dazai didn't look at Mori Ougai, instead watching his other self on the screen. "Honestly, I don't believe in miracles at all." Where in this world was there a miracle meant for Osamu Dazai?

But...

"But I believe it won't end like this." Osamu Dazai unconsciously clenched the fabric over his chest. How unbelievable. There was actually an "Osamu Dazai" who wanted to live? In such a filthy world, no less.

Yet when he thought of what that "Dazai" had experienced, Osamu Dazai found himself at a loss for words.

That "Dazai" was unfortunate. He had encountered the worst of times. Yet he was also terribly fortunate, for he had met the best people in those worst of times.

Even Osamu Dazai couldn't help marveling. That "Dazai" carried so much hope and love. Choosing death would be a betrayal of it all.

Osamu Dazai lowered his eyes. Yes, even he was only human. What human could remain unmoved before such pure goodwill and selfless love?

In the end, Osamu Dazai was only a foolish mortal whose heart could be touched.

But... that was truly wonderful.

Osamu Dazai looked at the screen. Is this what you wanted me to feel, Yiyi?

What was he thinking at that moment?

He was thinking of Yiyi.

He understood how Chen Zhongming had felt. Right now, he desperately wanted to leave Yiyi a few words. But he wouldn't say anything else. All he wanted to say was:

Yiyi, I did well, didn't I?

Yiyi, you have to keep living.

Even if I die, Yiyi, you have to keep living.

Osamu Dazai knew better than anyone what a wonderful, gentle, strong person An Xinyi was. He had always deserved every beautiful thing in the world.

Even if Dazai died, Yiyi would grieve, feel guilty, and suffer, but he would still keep moving forward.

For that, Osamu Dazai was very glad.

By now, Osamu Dazai was beginning to feel dazed. His arms had almost gone numb, and his fingers had turned stiff and pale from the strain. Only instinct kept them clenched around the support.

Yiyi, you actually saved me long ago.

Meeting him had been the greatest stroke of luck in Dazai's entire life.

Only now did he realize how precious life was, how fortunate it was to survive.

Osamu Dazai had always regarded death as something that came only once. But now he saw that living was the same. A person had only one life. However many choices they seemed to have in this world, once they died, they could never live again.

He would never again be able to share his regrets and his feelings with that person.

He really didn't want to die, but...

Osamu Dazai closed his eyes. He had already accepted his death.

Because he couldn't do it anymore. I'm sorry. I can't stay alive.

"Mr. Dazai!" Atsushi Nakajima and Ryunosuke Akutagawa cried out in panic.

"Unbelievable." Chūya Nakahara, perhaps the person in this world most in tune with Dazai, felt an urge to check whether the sun had risen in the west that morning. "That mackerel actually wants to live." Chūya Nakahara frowned. Even saying it felt awkward, but...

"Not bad. So even that mackerel can change for the better." Chūya Nakahara tugged his hat down to hide the smile curling his lips. Whatever else might be true, even if he usually didn't get along with Osamu Dazai, he would silently wish him well at a time like this-if only for the sake of their former partnership.

"Have I not been caring enough?" Doppo Kunikida was questioning his entire life. Were these two really the same person? He couldn't help doubting himself. Was a lack of concern really what kept him from guiding Dazai as well as An Xinyi did? The Armed Detective Agency's mother hen unconsciously began scribbling in his notebook.

Dazai, who would normally have teased Kunikida without fail, had no attention to spare for that now. His brown eyes were wide, something flickering within them, and beneath the light they seemed to glisten.

Ah, how lucky that "Osamu Dazai" is.

Osamu Dazai unconsciously clenched his hand. Having even one person to whom he could properly say goodbye in this life would be a blessing, let alone being like that "Osamu Dazai," with someone he could confide his attachment to... to Osamu Dazai, that was the greatest fortune imaginable.

If he could have that good fortune, he could die the very next moment without a single regret... hmm, perhaps then, like "Osamu Dazai," he would be reluctant to die?

But... would another miracle happen?

Osamu Dazai was filled with a young child's curiosity, as though he had only just discovered this world. Could "Osamu Dazai" be saved, too?

"Big-dum-my-" Ranpo Edogawa pronounced indistinctly around a mouthful of snacks.

Osamu Dazai had reached his limit. He was about to let go and allow himself to fall.

"Kid down there, hold on a little longer!" Suddenly, a shout came from above.

Osamu Dazai's eyes flew wide, as though a light had begun flickering within them.

At that moment, a feeling he had never experienced struck his heart. For an instant, he nearly burst into tears.

"Don't just stare! Grab my hand!"

A dark-skinned man he didn't recognize reached out to him.

The hand wasn't attractive in the slightest. It was rough and cracked, covered in dirt and blood.

Osamu Dazai followed the hand upward and saw the man. He looked Chinese, with a weathered face and hardship etched between his brows. Veins bulged on his forehead, and his face was flushed dark red. He didn't look friendly or endearing at all.

A rope was tied around his waist. It should have been fastened to a secure station to keep people from being flung away by the waves.

But the rope meant to keep him safe was gripped in his other hand, and when Osamu Dazai looked farther up, he saw many people.

Osamu Dazai raised his head. They were ordinary-looking people, one after another, all marked by hardship. Some were even from different countries, with different skin colors. Yet now they held the rope, tying safety ropes around their hands and waists, forming a chain of life through this vertical space.

They must have searched for a very, very long time. Every face was filled with exhaustion, yet also with a vibrant vitality.

Osamu Dazai was too clever not to understand how they had done it.

They must have detached all their own safety ropes. The ropes weren't long, so to extend their reach, they had made themselves part of the chain. Many had even tied safety ropes to both hands.

That also proved they weren't a rescue team at all, merely sea city residents acting of their own accord. They could have stayed quietly at their secure stations and survived this disaster safely.

Yet now, for a stranger like him and so many other strangers, they had staked their lives, willing to face death without regret.

Just like the man who had resolutely raised his arms. His body had fallen, but his spirit would never fall.

Their faces were different, yet they looked so alike. That will, that spirit-for a moment, Osamu Dazai even felt that the man hadn't died.

He had lived on, in spirit.

The sea city was still shaking. Beneath the towering waves outside, this long lifeline swayed constantly. Everyone's face was red with strain, and the chain didn't look secure.

Yet Osamu Dazai believed there was no stronger rope in this world.

Osamu Dazai reached out and gripped that rough hand.

"Make sure you hold on to me."

The man gave an honest, good-natured smile. "Of course. I'm really strong."

That's not what I meant. But Osamu Dazai began to smile.

He stopped thinking about it.

Osamu Dazai was always too clever. He should have considered how much longer the waves would last. The rescue workers were all busy stabilizing the freshly repaired facilities and had no time to help them. That meant this long chain would have to hold for quite some time.

Humans shouldn't have been capable of that.

But now, Osamu Dazai didn't want to think about it.

He realized that he had always viewed these people through his ability to read human hearts. He couldn't have been more wrong.

Only a one-in-ten-thousand chance could be called a miracle, and he couldn't predict miracles.

But at this moment, he believed they could create a miracle.

It was utterly irrational, yet he did it anyway.

Many years ago, that overly clever, perceptive child had cut himself off from the world under the malice of his family and those around him.

Humans are ugly.

Humans are foolish.

That was what he had believed.

But now he saw different, magnificent colors.

Yiyi, Osamu Dazai thought, this is what you wanted me to see and feel, isn't it?

Humans are beautiful, too.

Humans are strong, too.

Once, humanity as a whole had destroyed the individual named Osamu Dazai. Now, humanity as a whole was saving that same individual.

He had once pushed this world away with his own hands. But when he placed his hand in that man's, he finally made peace with the world.