ᴏᴄᴛᴏʙᴇʀ 26 - ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀᴀɴᴅᴜᴍ:
ɪꜱ ɪᴛ ᴘᴀɪɴꜰᴜʟ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ ᴡʜᴏ ᴡᴀɪᴛꜱ? ᴏʀ ɪꜱ ɪᴛ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴘᴀɪɴꜰᴜʟ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ ᴡʜᴏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇꜱ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀꜱ ᴡᴀɪᴛ? ᴇɪᴛʜᴇʀ ᴡᴀʏ, ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ'ꜱ ɴᴏ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴡᴀɪᴛ ᴀɴʏᴍᴏʀᴇ. ᴛʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪꜱ ᴍᴏꜱᴛ ᴘᴀɪɴꜰᴜʟ.
Atsushi found those few words encrypted on a page of Kunikida's journal – a page he'd left gaping open beside his stationery fingers that perched on a cold laptop touchpad while his eyes stared back at a blank document he'd put up on his monitor for minutes counting.
'Kunikida,' the albino called out politely, obliging himself to tap the older male's shoulder as a way to earn his attention – it did not work. He tried once again, a little louder this time, and thus watched as his senior's grey-tinted emerald eyes hesitantly glanced up at him.
This same vacant stare that now focused wholly on the young detective was the exact same look Kunikida had been giving his work for the past half hour that Atsushi had spent at the Agency; it was rather unsettling to watch the productive blond counter such adjective, more so with the unusually tall pile of paperwork weighing on his desk beside an open green notebook.
Atsushi shook his head reluctantly and waved his fingers awkwardly. 'Nevermind...'
October was anticipated to mark a time of gloom in the office, but Atsushi had not foreseen such bitter loneliness to replace the absenteeism of his mentor Dazai and colleague [Y/N] over a visit to the cemetery; an earlier round to the rooftop had been enough to confirm the belief that both of those mentioned characters had left for the set destination, for several white chrysanthemum buds were missing from the soil and likely to have been arranged into handmade bouquets in the morning before sunrise.
But the scene before him was oddly off-putting.
No one except Kunikida and himself were present in the office – Kyouka had come in earlier but returned to Café Uzumaki as he was making his way up, having this unapproachable look in her eyes that not even he, her work partner and friend, managed to snap her out of. Everyone else had either sat quietly around a coffee-scented table or else disappeared completely.
'Kunikida,' the albino tried calling again, earning the male's attention far more easily this time. 'We're expected to cover for [Y/N] and Dazai's absence, right?... Haven't we agreed as a collective to mark their presence and complete their portion of work for today?'
The only response he received was to witness the blond male's eyes return sharply to his laptop.
Pursing his lips dissatisfied, Atsushi bowed and led his way silently towards his desk, furrowing his eyebrows as he noticed Dazai's chair mantled with his new beige coat – one which [Y/N] had worked day and night to buy for him; though it did not seem like so at times, Dazai held whatever gift his peers gave him with deep emotional appreciation, so really, Atsushi could not understand why he'd leave this coat in particular behind... Why was a gift from [Y/N] – someone Dazai introduced to the Agency and worked so hard for – left behind on such an important visit to the cemetery?
'Atsushi,' Kunikida called out weakly, pushing himself off his chair abruptly. 'I have a meeting to attend...'
As the blond male adjusted his glasses, Atsushi noticed Kunikida's scleras to be tinted in a faint red, his usually clear lenses mantled in a warm fog that gave the younger detective an impression that his senior had had an early eye-irritation, or else –
'Have you been crying, Kunikida?' he asked hesitantly, his own lids drifted apart in anxious awakeness. 'I can cover that meeting for you if you need some time...'
Kunikida shook his head and picked his notebook from the desk, shutting it reluctantly in his pale knuckles before clearing his throat and turning his laptop off.
'My emotional psyche should have no interference with my work,' the older male replied, alternating his gaze between the desk beside him that had once sat their newest member and the one set in front of him where his "waste of bandages" partner was seldom found sitting at, regardless of the occasion. 'A government worker has arranged to meet with the Agency, so kindly, whenever you're ready, head down to the –'
'Ready? I'll follow right behind you –' – Kunikida held out his palm as a way to deter the albino from taking any more steps forward, giving him the excuse that he was not ready for the meeting the Agency was to attend shortly. 'Is something wrong, Kunikida...?'
Without providing him with a response, the addressed male stalked his way out of the office reluctantly and pulled the door closed behind him, thus leaving Atsushi stranded in a life-lacking office.
The vivid green tiles seemed to have given up their beam despite being recently mopped, and the wine-coloured wooden desks looked far too abandoned despite their polished surfaces enchanting the eye of any beholder.
A morbid fear sprouted inside Atsushi – one he could only justify to have been the result of finding a neatly folded piece of paper laying dormant on Dazai's desk beside a clear zip-lock bag with specs of grey grains from dry ashes.
'Ashes?' the boy questioned in disbelief, squinting at the bag while letting its plastic material dance on his fingers as if it were a shapeable liquid.
It was with the aid of an intrusive thought that his heart stopped momentarily.
Were these... Dazai and [Y/N]'s... No, he couldn't be holding their... They couldn't be – no... Just the previous day he had seen them, up and about procrastinating their paperwork as they always did... plotting a new way to annoy the blond male that Atsushi had noticed to have been crying today...
His anxious fingers slid towards the paper left before him – the temptation to shred it to bits for being responsible for the grim aura now inhabiting the office was ringing far too loudly inside him, but he fought against it.
Atsushi could not read due to his sight being blurred with unsolicited tears... but he forced himself nonetheless... he forced himself because in this paper were the words of two people he may never come to hear from again...
Dear Armed Detective Agency (our colleagues),
We'd first and foremost like to address our absence from work; our gratitude is immense for being permitted a day off work to visit a lost friend on their birthday; by the time you're reading this, you may have noticed that several chrysanthemums buds are missing, thus, you can be assured that we have left early in the morning and headed towards the cemetery before anyone from the Agency arrived. (P.s. Beat that, Kunikida~)
It is not our intention to raise any alarm by those ashes we left behind; neither of us have been cremated, no – we do not seek such pain, no thanks!
These ashes are our last (cut) ties to the Port Mafia... we'll leave it up to you to decide what to do with them, but perhaps we ought to elaborate on its significance a little:
Upon joining the Port Mafia, one is awarded with a firearm of their own; the oldest of the two of us was given a gun with their name embedded on it – Osamu Dazai – and it wasn't until last year that this same weapon was brought into [Y/N]'s possession when she "joined" the Mafia... Well, that shan't no longer matter, for these ashes are the last remains of the gun we burnt down (willingly) with the efficient fire ability the youngest of us yields.
Now that that's out of the way, I'm afraid no more time ought to be wasted...
We're both truly thankful for all that's been done for us and all you've allowed us to do in the Agency throughout these past few years/months; if it weren't for Ranpo's ultra-deductive ability, it's possible that the Agency would've never been set up in the first place, and thus, this opportunity we've been given to be on the good side may have never been fully achieved... Thank you, Ranpo...
We've failed to patch up those psychological wounds that Yosano once mentioned over a year ago... but that's okay... "Thou shall not die" performed miracles and the raw skill of the same doctor treated several scars that tattooed our skin... Besides, your kindness was far too touching to the soul... Thank you, Yosano...
Kunikida certainly isn't the type to accept a thank-you so openly; he believes that whatever he does ought to be the appropriate action and thus requires no response from gratitude, but maybe we could embarrass him a little? How many hands will Kunikida let this note pass through if we list all those moments he fell victim to Dazai's jokes or when his emotional side got the best of him when dealing with [Y/N]'s pardon? Hmm, maybe some other day... We'll let you save that blushing for your future (ideal) partner, Kunikida!
We cherish all the help you've given us, Kenji; because of you, we managed to grow a garden the right way, and all your enthusiasm and bright aura certainly cheered those little white buds to bloom in October... Thank you, Kenji...
Though seen to be "barely a part of the Agency", Naomi's name deserves to be in this letter; it was thanks to you that a memorable presence was made in our first Yokohama's Sparkling Twilight attendance – and again in a second one... Thank you, Naomi...
This has never been openly shared between the two of us until now, but a great thank you ought to be given to Tanizaki, too; during Dazai's disappearance, you were given the responsibility to watch over [Y/N] with the stealth of your ability, making sure she did not stray from the clean life she was expected to conduct before joining the Agency... Thank you, Tanizaki...
Though you are not part of the Agency, Lucy, it's inevitable that we show you gratitude for all those cups of coffee you refused to serve us for free, and we hope you did not keep Ango Sakaguchi trapped in Anne's Chambers for long – you trapped him in there on the day Dazai returned from the hospital, remember? Well, you're forgiven because you did it with good intention... Thank you, Lucy...
And from the both of us, in equal parts, to you, director Fukuzawa: Thank you for letting us join the Armed Detective Agency. Perhaps it was a difficult choice to accept two former Mafiosi into an organisation you founded against the Port Mafia, but we made it... we made it to the other side because you allowed us to step into the light...
On that same note, thank you for taking Kyouka in; we're all aware she too was a Mafia member – a flower blooming in the darkness like the two of us once were... but the light suits her far better; since being guided to the light, she's done enough good to reserve a place in heaven, including helping Dazai convince A.D.A. that [Y/N] was worth giving a chance too...
And Atsushi... our last but certainly not the least... If we guess correctly, you will be the last one in the Agency to read this letter through, and thus, it is up to you on whether you will keep this paper as an aching memory of your mentor and colleague, or whether you'll shred it to bits because we betrayed you by not preparing you for this yesterday...
Your politeness truly is a remarkable quality, and with you you carry the warmth that accommodates those whom you speak with... your strength as a young subordinate and detective certainly do not fall behind, and that ability of yours is truly admirable. We see a reflection of ourselves in you, but you've managed to fill that dark void in you with light...
(As your mentor speaking, I am glad you never became a raw copy of me; I do not wish upon you such a curse, Atsushi.)
But today we left the Agency with a certain indecisiveness on our shoulders... Dazai says that a suicidal person will never back down from their word, so we're afraid that this will be our good-bye...
I, [Y/N] [L/N], promised to become his suicide partner a million years ago. - I, Osamu Dazai, promised to stay until her dream to plant her chrysanthemum garden was achieved.
Our promises to each other are the last accomplishments we wish to take with us... A piece of us was left behind today: the coat [Y/N] bought. Burn it if the memory of us becomes far too much to bear, but if you won't, please guard it safely...
We believe a meeting must have been arranged last-minute – are we correct? Ango Sakaguchi was in charge of arranging a meeting with the Agency in case the two of us went missing... We told him to search for us by the waterfront, and report it to the Agency straight away if he saw two towers of pebbles wrapped in bandages, with no one guarding them...
Why was this our choice, you ask? Because we never recovered. Because in the end, we're victims. Victims of a transitional period of morality... To the Agency, we leave one last question:
To whose morals should convicts abide by?
With gratitude, two (happy) victims of morality,
[Y/N] & Dazai
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"Is it painful to be the person who waits? (...) That's what is most painful." (the paragraph found at the beginning of the chapter) is directly taken from Osamu Dazai's "Run, Melos! and Other Stories".
"Victims of a transitional period of morality." is a shortened quote taken from Osamu Dazai's 1947 "The Setting Sun"
Thank you for having read the Epilogue, and if you could, kindly read the extra chapter published just below.
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