To conduct the singing misfortune [Dazai and Reader]

Occupying myself

Eyes stare back at me, purple, glowing, unsure, yet they don't waver. The bandages I'd begun to wrap my arms with as a pastime with Osamu had started to seem natural, and I no longer liked the look of what was underneath. The scars from bullets, the bite marks from stray dogs in the slums, and the appearance overall distress me now that I know what oblivion tastes like.

The mirror shines suddenly as the open door of our tiny bathroom beside the front door – Only big enough for a toilet and medicine cabinet – reveals the kitchen of our cramped dorm. The microwave makes a hum.

Osamu sings to himself in the kitchen, mixing microwave food whilst leaning against the counter. I see the purple fog through the walls, misfortunate pools of foreboding, allowing my thoughts to drift from their dreary state.

Another day is here, and as long as it's by my brother's side, there's nothing much I want otherwise.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

The office was repeatedly filled with the sound of a chainsaw every other minute, and Yosano's laughs were heard through the walls.

Kunikida, Kenji, Atsushi and Kyouka had been caught up with the Guild and the Port Mafia. Atsushi and Kyouka had fuzzed their most recent job, earning them a sad conversation over crepes, which got us here. Kyouka was now missing, and I hadn't even managed a decent conversation with the girl. I suppose it'll have to wait for another day.

An eventful morning. We captured a Port Mafia executive, so we're not in the worst position. In terms of my boredom, however, I'm dying.

Slumped onto the couch, I mull over my options: Do work, poke my nose somewhere it doesn't belong. I hum to myself, disrupting my groans of boredom, and then decide to do the latter. Sliding off, I stand lazily, swaying slightly and holding onto the wall as my vision becomes noisy, then skipping to the doctor's office.

Kunikida is still dazed, head laid on the table from his treatment, so he can't scold me as I close the door behind me and sit across from Kouyou. The title 'Port Mafia executive' doesn't feel like that big of a deal considering my brother.

I cross one leg over the other, leaning forward and giggling quietly, "Hi."

The woman doesn't entertain me, staring at me with an unimpressed expression, "And who are you, child?" I huff, sitting back in the chair and watching her for a few seconds. So this is the woman that drove Kyouka to run away? I sulk, "I'm [Y/N] Oda, and I'm sixteen – Barely a child." I smile, seeing how she was practically helpless in our Agency, "You're Kouyou, an executive, correct? What an unfortunate position to be in. This really sucks for you."

She smirks, her painted lips pulled darkly, "You've no manners, Oda. My Kyouka is two years younger than you. In her time under this Agency's wretched light, have you made friends with her?" Her face twists with disgust as she mentions the Agency, and I chuckle at the sight of it. She's a sour woman. She's maternal over Kyouka and wants what she thinks is best for the girl. I smile lightly at the thought, "Acquaintances, maybe, but I haven't had the chance to talk all that much. She's had a good few days here, I think, though. Apart from her self-doubt, everyone greeted her warmly. Even the President."

"I see. That explains why Kyouka was so poisoned when I greeted her. Shocked, even, that I'd thought to approach her once more with the good intention of bringing her home." Kouyou's sentence trails off with a delicate hum, her glance going to the ceiling before she looks back at me, "I'd appreciate it if you could take the time to get to know her. You're not too far from being a dark flower, yet stay here. Maybe you can comfort Kyouka when she's too overwhelmed by the light. You see, I worry for her for a good reason."