Chapter Text
Osamu was ready to catch the passing looks of all the townspeople. As plain as Chuuya said his looks were, he held an irresistible charm with him.
It had been a long time since he bandaged his body, but it was his armor against the outer world. They served their purpose at some point, but it soon became a fashionable must-have in his everyday outfits. Back when almost every inch of his limbs was covered in cuts and bruises. Those were fun times, but he grew out of not caring if he was in pain. Pain became a plague to him, avoided as if the smallest tinge of it could kill him. All that was left were the scars, souvenirs from all his failures.
Thinking about it, both Lucy and Atsushi had seen his neck, but they never said anything. Their eyes didn’t linger, and they didn’t feel uncomfortable even knowing what he had tried to do. Kunikida had seen Osamu’s arms but didn’t care about them. Osamu had been careless in the comfort of his new home, but it didn’t feel bad to not be the center of attention.
He looked at himself in the mirror, seeing how well the clothes fitted him, and realized any way of death would disturb Kunikida. He sighed, so much for a clean suicide that didn’t bother anyone. His plans met an undefined pause until he could talk to Odasaku, but it wasn’t like he forgot about it. Reading to know how to take care of the sunken garden became a gold mine for different, fun plants lethal to its consumer.
Ending everything became a fleeting thought. A persistent thing that begged for Osamu’s attention when he forgot it was ever there. How careless of him, to focus on something so much that he neglected his purpose in life. He’d work on it when he finished dealing with the seemingly piled up promises. Osamu was many things, but he wasn’t a liar. Not anymore. Only sometimes.
Not too shabby, he concluded and went to the box Kunikida told him to retrieve from the main bedroom. He opened it and saw the bolo tie. The turquoise pendant was perfect for Kunikida. Osamu wondered if the man had ever worn it. It looked new, as perfect as a showcased model. He planned his outfit around the color of the jewel to make sure he stole Kunikida’s heart.
After putting it on, Osamu was ready to go.
Downstairs, Atsushi was the dining room, and Lucy was taking care of the sunken garden, as usual. Osamu was sure the girl took advantage of being far from sight to laze around, watering the dying plants and wiping the windows if she wanted to make them believe she was making an effort. How nice it would be if she were like that. Unfortunately, Lucy was a diligent girl who held her end of the deal, so Osamu would do the same. He couldn’t ask her to not come back if she did such a wonderful job. Before, Osamu couldn’t see anything in the sunken garden, and only a few sun rays filtered in from the smallest pieces of glass free of dust. He didn’t know there could be so much sunlight in the sunken garden until Lucy started to take care of it.
Whatever; he’d take all the help he could get.
Kunikida was waiting for him by the front door, in his usual suit. Osamu also made sure to hold a certain similarity to Kunikida’s clothes, as if they could match their outfits, but not quite, he didn’t want to be too straight forward.
The walk to the main street would give them enough time to get closer. Osamu had many questions about being dead and how Kunikida achieved ghost status. He had to know what to avoid to not get stuck on Earth once it was his time.
“We’re leaving, Atsushi-kun!” Osamu shouted as he put on his beige coat. “Don’t wait up for us!”
Kunikida had an expression that Osamu had seen many times before: don’t joke, Dazai, you bastard, am I a joke to you? It was the same as Chuuya’s. Osamu shook his head, he wouldn’t waste a single brain cell thinking of that midget.
The Sun shone over them past the front door, making Osamu think about putting big trees on both sides of the road to give shade to their path. It wasn’t hot in the slightest, it was a rather chilly morning, but too much time walking under the Sun wasn’t an activity a normal human enjoyed. How nice it must’ve been for Kunikida, going out without a care for the weather.
“So, Kunikida-kun—
Kunikida scoffed. “Don’t call me that.”
“Kunikida-kun,” Osamu ignored him. He was the owner of the house, and in possession of the pendant. And Kunikida was going to be eternally the same age as he was at that moment. Osamu decided to redirect their focus. He gently held the bright jewel. “Where did you get this?”
Avoiding Osamu’s inquiring gaze, Kunikida looked forward. “It was a gift.”
“Was it a pretty lady?” Osamu asked, but he hoped he was wrong. Kunikida seemed uncomfortable giving him the box, seeing the tie around his neck, so it was natural Osamu wanted to listen from Kunikida’s lips the story it hid in the glint of its jewel.
“Yes.” Kunikida didn’t look at him. “My fiance gave it to me.”
Geh. It hit harder than Osamu expected. In Kunikida’s life, a woman was the owner of his heart. He had his house, how could it compare? That woman meant so much to Kunikida he treasured the tie even after his death. It was the object that gave him freedom from the house, the remainder of a lost love, which choked Osamu more than the bandages.
“To think you were engaged,” he laughed. That was the past, and Kunikida was dead, what was he getting so worked up for? Besides, it had been merely an engagement, not a marriage. And, either way, Osamu never cared much for the formalities of a relationship.
“Got a problem with that?”
“Not at all.” Osamu let his mind wander to places he didn’t want to explore, something he thought he had learned to manage. He was meant to see the brighter side of life, the simple things that didn’t suck, like Odasaku. “It means you can love, and that’s wonderful news.”
He wished Kunikida knew how to take a joke, and that the blond would stop looking at him with scorn in his eyes, something not worth an answer. For a proper, educated man, Kunikida could be so rude to him, it hurt his feelings.
“How does it work, anyway?” He asked to make that expression disappear. If Kunikida had frowned his life away, he wouldn’t have had such pretty skin, so Osamu wouldn’t make him scowl in his afterlife. At least, he’d try. He thought it’d be a waste to not see Kunikida angry, though. Thinking it better, he’d keep doing as he had, it wasn’t like Kunikida could escape him.
Kunikida sighed. “What?”
“The jewel,” he said immediately. “Or is it the tie?”
“Jewel.” Kunikida poked the bright turquoise, surprising Osamu enough to stop walking for a second before quickly catching up with Kunikida, who hadn’t stopped. “Its feelings are strong enough for me to latch onto them.”
Osamu had felt the faint pressure of Kunikida’s finger on his chest. That was new. “Love, passion, adoration, longing,” Osamu placed the back of his hand on his forehead, investing in theatrics to enhance his teasing. That, and he wanted to make sure his thoughts and heart hadn’t made blood rush to his face. “How romantic, Kunikida-kun.”
But that wasn’t it. Osamu knew that love wasn’t the only thing in the jewel around his neck. Regret, loneliness, the pain of never being able to call her his wife. A man as great as Kunikida should’ve known the joy of marriage. Osamu assumed there was something like that in the legal union of two people. To him, marriage sounded like a nightmare, but he guessed to Kunikida it’d signify one of the happiest days of his life. If only he had had it.
With every detail, the story became clearer, but it was still not enough to know what happened. Who murdered Kunikida Doppo? Going to town was the next step into knowing what happened to Q, but it was also to know the places Kunikida knew and the people who could remember the man who died alone in his mansion, and the ones who could still see him.
In a town as interesting as Yamasaki, there ought to be others like Atsushi. He couldn’t wait, despite the Sun starting to bother him, Osamu’s mood didn’t falter.