Why must sin taste so bitterly sweet (fyozai)

Chapter 3

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The basement was as damp and cold as it always was as he trudged down the stairs, causing him to shiver as he made his way down. He'd hoped that if he wore his uniform now, he'd be able to set aside a little extra time for him to read before class, but right in that moment, the decision definitely didn't seem to be worth it. Their uniform was made of absurdly thin fabric; it did come with a brown felt coat for the students to wear during the colder months, but when his father saw him attempting to leave wearing it, he demanded he go without it in fear of it getting dirty. He had a standard to uphold. Having his son come into class with a stained and/or damaged coat would certainly bring their family shame within their community. His reputation was worth more than Fyodor's comfort. He reached for the key he'd slotted in his pocket, unlocking the cell door and entering the cramped space before replacing it as he went to deal with the bucket once more.

He returned soon after with the empty bucket, replacing it in the corner before removing the sinner's restraints for it to eat. He sat and waited patiently for it to notice, watching carefully as it took a bite into the first slice and taking delight in the slight widening of its eyes as it tasted the butter on its tongue. Its eyes moved over to Fyodor with a questioning look within them. Fyodor simply gave it a smile back and turned his gaze to the window of the cell. The sinner didn't wait much longer before hurriedly swallowing down the two slices, the man watching in small glances, chuckling as he watched it eat with such gusto. It didn't take long for the bread to disappear, and the water was soon drained from the tankard in turn and landed on the floor of the cell with a sharp thunk. The sinner turned its dull gaze towards him. "Thank you." It spoke simply, its arms going behind its back as it awaited the return of the restraints. Fyodor shuffled across the ground to move closer to the sinner, setting his hand on its shoulder and turning it sharply to face him once again. "Do you have a name, sinner?" He asked, and the sinner paused for a moment in surprise before responding, "It's Osamu. Osamu Dazai." Came its flat voice, clearly mimicking Fyodor's own introduction from the day prior. Fyodor hums in response as he lets his head fall back to rest on the wall behind them. "Do you have any hobbies, Osamu? Is there anything you particularly enjoy doing?" He asked, the sinner's name feeling foreign but at the same time like sweet syrup on his tongue as it left his lips, the forbidden nature of his words making it strangely seem all the more sweeter.

Too sweet.

"I suppose I like to read," came the sinner's smooth voice again. "Oh? And what is it that you like to read, sinner?" He asked, his eyes widening in anticipation. The sinner paused to think for a moment. "It tends to vary, but I'm most drawn to novels with psychological elements the most. Tales that aim to cause the reader's mind to deteriorate alongside the character's" Fyodor pushed himself up from the ground to stand as he picked up the restraints, turning to look the sinner in the eyes. "How peculiar, as do I," he declared with a smirk breaking across his face as he fastened the restraints back around the sinner's arms and mouth, leaving the basement without another word or even a glance back. Despite the eyes, he could feel burning into his back as he made his way back up to the surface.

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Fyodor lifted his head from his desk to glance up at the clock on the wall, finding that the lecture would finally come to an end in just five more minutes. He didn't have much better to do, so he graciously decided to tune in to the final minutes of the lecture, though it was mainly in case the teacher decided to set an assignment for them to do outside of class. As he turned his gaze towards the teacher, he saw his eyes immediately focus on him, the glare from earlier again returning to their surface as he announced the essay he was expecting to be written by next week explaining the preparations made prior to the liberation ceremony. Soon after, he dismissed the class, students beginning to stand up from their chairs and gather their supplies as the majority all left in a large congregation, with a few lagging behind as they packed up, Fyodor being one of them.

As Fyodor packed up, he could still feel the man's eyes on him, the searing gaze following him as he walked down to the front of the room to pass by the teacher and leave through the door. Before he could reach the door however, he was stopped by a call of his name, "Fyodor." His teacher's voice came as he was passing by the desk. "Yes sir?" He replied with a sigh, his face lying flat and unbothered, "You really must start paying attention during class, Fyodor. If you continue to behave as you have been and to act disrespectfully towards me, I will have to inform your father to see if he can get through to you." He chastised with his eyebrows raised. He could feel his body tense as he stiffly nodded to his teacher, muttering an apology before he hurriedly left the room.

His reading could wait until he got home from now on.

He looked down at his timetable with a groan as he found his next class would be mathematics, though thankfully it was the only other class he had that day, so there was at least one small mercy that the Lord had granted him.

Chatter filled his ears as he entered the canteen, a scowl crossing his face as what seemed like thousands of different voices and various other sounds filled his mind, piling up more and more and more until he was sure his head would soon burst. Shaking his head violently, Fyodor pushed on towards the line for food, the money for which being taken from the lunch allowance his father had already prepaid to the school as he reached the counter with his food. He then quickly darted between the mess of students and staff, making his way out onto the courtyard, which was also filled with people but to a much lesser degree. He made sure that none of the staff were watching before he slipped around to the back of the school building, a wooded area that was off limits to students and that had been Fyodor's lunch spot ever since he'd discovered the place last year. It was quiet and free of other people, which was all he really cared about. Sure, there might be the odd insect or two that ended up landing on him or on his food, but he didn't mind so much if it meant escaping that hellscape of a canteen.

Fyodor reached into his bag and pulled out the blanket he had stowed away in there for this specific purpose, laying it out on the snowy surface of the frozen ground so he could sit comfortably and without the risk of damaging his uniform. During the winter, he always did wish that the library would just allow students to bring their food in with them so he wouldn't be stuck outside giving himself frostbite just to get some peace and quiet, but alas, he was stuck out here for the time being.

He supposed the peace was worth it.