𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐛𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 – Michael Ende, the neverending story
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┏━°⌜ 赤い糸 ⌟°━┓
CHAPTER TWO KNOWING YOU
I WASN'T SURE WHY, but after the encounter with the strange man a few nights ago, I found myself coming to the same bar after the end of my work shift.
Working at the local veterinarian clinic for long hours can get tiring; especially when helping emotionally distraught people from the loss of their beloved pet.
This afternoon in particular a young couple—around their mid-twenties—came in with a severely injured cat. They explained that it had gotten out through their open window and ran out into the street, leading to an accident involving a car.
But, regrettably, the injuries the cat had sustained that if we were to keep her alive it would live an agonising life. So, the couple made the almost impossible but moral decision to allow her to pass onto the afterlife.
The thought of having to be the person to tell them of the situation left a bitter taste in my mouth. With that in mind, I turn the corner of the familiar street, looking up to the illuminated fluorescence of the bar's LED logo. It was bright; reflecting the wet concrete floors of the alleyway-like street.
It was now early into the night, the waning moon high in the sky.
The road narrowed and dimmed. Humidity clung thickly and made the city air smell more of grime and smoke and piss. Pipes and gutters scaled the walls; surrounding the Lupin bar.
Pushing open the heavy door by the shoulder, I am met with the tranquil atmosphere of the bar. The usual bartender kept himself busy and regulars scattered in designated seats.
"Oh, [y/n]!"
I was startled at the calling of my name, fumbling a bit with the door closing behind me. Looking in the voice's direction I was met with a familiar face.
Pausing for a moment, I regain my composure and move to sit on a stool where he was sitting, keeping one chair in between free.
"Dazai, if I remember correctly?"
I knew perfectly well that his name was Dazai. The encounter with him planted a seed in my imagination and slowly festered from a passing thought to things being a constant reminder of that fateful night.
