To conduct the singing misfortune [Dazai and Reader]

Ballroom Dancing III

Sakunsuke nods, relieved to have gotten through to me somewhat with all that struggle, picking up his bags again and standing, "I'll be back in about two hours. Leftovers are in the fridge if you get tired of sweets." I giggle, "Never." He leaves the house, locking the door behind him, and I sigh in my boredom.

I wave away the dark cloud of purple hovering around me and stand, trudging over to the window and opening it. I have two hours to kill. With that thought, I bring one leg to the window sill, propping myself up so I could place the other there, hands hung onto the curtain pole, and I place a tentative foot onto the patio roof. My worn shoe slides slightly before catching on a recess in the roofing that needs fixing. I slink out of the window fully, then climb down the lattice trellis and land in a hedge. It's already indented from my many escapes before.

I aimlessly wander around the residential area, enjoying the sun, and find the familiar main road which leads to the river. Following it leads me to seating myself halfway between watching the road and the river, swinging my legs on the ledge. My nose sniffles and throat tingles as I recall plunging into the water.

The water makes a gentle trickle on one side of my head, the other consumed by the city's busy roads and chatter. A train goes by, overshadowing all noise with its short arrival and leave. The sun hits my left shoulder, heating it through my shirt, and I breathe in the mix of carbon dioxide and river smell.

My eyes snap open to see a bus going quicker than light down the road, turning the corner away from me, and I see a familiar trail of fog tagged onto a minivan beside it that makes my legs jump to action before I can think.

I run to the restaurant, my weak body sprinting through as many shortcuts as I know.

I'm unsure why the restaurant is my first instinct, but as my feet hurt from turning corners so quickly that the souls on my tattered shoes begin tearing and I see the rising attention there, I can assume it wasn't only the safe house that was targeted.

My run was an eleven-minute ordeal, and I choked on my breaths, hands on my knees to recover before I pushed through the struggle and pushed through the crowd.

I cough, then pause as I see the kitchen from the back entrance open. A wavering step inside shows me the dim light coming through the shutters. I wander through the dust, then spot Pops.

His corpse lay over the top of a covered pot - One he'd use for Sakunsouke's curry. His chest was facing outward, so he'd been pushed onto it, and his head was tipped back, eyes wide open and staring emptily at the shelf above.

I take another heavy step, rounding the front of the body to see the work of Mimic. Three gunshots painted his apron crimson, a pool dripping from the pot like a fountain. That apron was the same one he'd always wear, the same one that fit him so perfectly that you had to wonder if it was made for him.

My eyes track the corpse's last actions, seeing the ladle barely hanging in his hand with the iron grip he held it in during his last moments. It was steaming slightly with the curry dripping from it. His feeble defence was fruitless, I'm reminded, looking back at the lifeless eyes.

"....[Y/N]...?" I blink, head rising from where I'd been staring at the body for what felt like aeons to see Sakunosuke stumbling through the main entrance. "...[Y/N]?"

I hum, finally aware enough of my surroundings that I can process the tremble in my hand, the catering of my jaw, the twitching of my legs, "Sakunosuke...Pops is..."

"I know." Sakunosuke seemed shaken, too, pale as he stepped to the man and closed Pops' eyes. It brought some relief to Sakunosuke, only for his shoulders to drop again, and he turned to me. His eyes checked my face and body for injury, "You're okay?" I nod, going to rub my eye and looking at my palm once I do, seeing that it's wet.