The Wild Geese || DAZAI OSAMU/CHUUYA NAKAHARA

[九] NACRE WALLS, WOMB.

How do you cope, as a child, when everyone around you seems to die? You would constantly think you would be next; you would constantly think the lives of the deceased were hanging around you, haunting you, staring at you with gaunt eyes while you slept.

"Everyone before me died," You begin. "I was the only sole survivor.

Mori had this thing—no, the Port Mafia had this thing where they realised that people were defecting because they wanted a life outside the Mafia. They couldn't accept that this ultraviolence was their reality. They wanted to transcend, go beyond, or whatever futile hope people have.

"But some had valuable abilities. Far too valuable to go."  You examine the back of your hand. "My father's ability was that he could aim a bullet no matter the distance, circumstance, angle; the bullet found its way into the target no matter what. My mother just spread her legs open and let him put his dick in her. Whatever. That's something perfect for the mafia. You shoot one bullet and tasks are done. He could do 500 missions and it would only take him 500 bullets. He was economical, fast, and ruthless.

"Mori couldn't let go of that. So, he found a way—no, he tried to find a way to extract abilities from their user and implement it to another. I was the one case that got it right. Most of the other cases, the host died, both the giver and receiver. Maybe it was because I and him were related. Made," You pull out another cigarette, "The transition easier. That's how I'm here."

You're laughing now, some sort of pained, hoarse noise. "You know, suffering gets tiring after a while. You agree, right?"

He hums. He's trying to rack his brain on something similar to that, and he remembers Mori saying something about human experimentation—change of plans, Dazai, our Modus Operandi has been changed.

"I wanted to be loved, I think. They say love is hate is the same, and I understood. I felt so strongly wanting love that it evolved into hate. I saw someone taking care of children."

Something in Dazai's gut twists and his skin crawls. Your voice sounded dead, eerie, remorseless.

"I decided to crush their dreams just like Mori did to me."

You look at him, a smile on your face. You put the cigarette into your mouth.

"Sometimes I can't go to sleep thinking of it. I knew what I did was wrong. But I was so young. All I wanted to do was destroy things. I didn't want things that were so beautiful and pure to exist. I destroyed, destroyed, destroyed. I love destroying things. I want to kill, hurt, and be hurt," You say, just in time before Dazai yanks you by the collar and pulls a fist back. He's looking at you with the same eyes of Mori, his lips curled into a flat line of absolute fury, heart beating so hard and heavy that you could feel it vibrate the air within his orbit. You fall limp in the curled fist of your collar. "Go on. Beating me won't bring them back."

He breaks your nose, and you close your eyes and let the pain wash over your face—numb, tangy pain, the kind of pain that felt like a sore, the kind of pain that felt like a hollow thud smashing into your skull, that kind of pain that later numbed you out. You stare at him when he tosses you back. You wipe your nose, try to straighten your back, and finally pull the cigarette out of your mouth.

"You ought to strangle me," Is all you say. He wordlessly turns around and walks away.

"It is only the whispers of a deadman keeping me from killing you," Dazai says. His look of former curiosity had evolved into something deeper, something warped and dark, like a loathing so deep and profound that it made his heart sing when his fist crushed into your face. He hears you chuckle.

"A nobleman. How honourable."

You tap your cigarette to ash it when he walks away, his posture stiff and emanating hot waves of rage, silenced by each footstep he took away from you. You felt free almost, as if you had been relieved of a weight on your shoulder, only to realise you had cut your arm clean off. But you felt your heart clear.