Hotline {Soukoku}

{4}

I am quite the perfectionist, so creating the cover is gonna take a while 😔

~

Within the first week of October, the temperature took its first big dip. It had been slowly inching towards freezing temperatures, but the previous night's dip had been unexpected.

It was the kind of cold where you finally decide to bring out your fall gear; the cardigans, the trench coats, the sweaters, everything.

This kind of weather was Osamu Dazai's favorite, at least, in comparison to the summer and spring that came before it. What's more discouraging than walking outside into the blazing hot sun? Nothing. But walking out when it's cold, leaving you to dress in as many warm and stylish layers as you'd like? Now that's nice.

Dazai had on a black undershirt and a pair of black pants. They had pockets, as his younger friend had made it apparent to him earlier:

"Make sure whatever pants you wear, they have pockets!! Black with pockets, trust me, you'll need them!"

With the amount of emphasis being put on pockets, Dazai knew how important it was to have them. Why? He has no idea.

He was told that he'd get a work shirt later on, and to just wear a simple black shirt for now. So that's what he did. He stepped into the closet, looking for a coat to wear until he arrived at work.

In an attempt to make getting ready easier, and in a random burst of motivation, the man decided to give an attempt at cleaning his closet. He didn't do much, the motivation wore off pretty quickly, but he was able to at least sort the piles into neater, more defined categories. Now the dirty clothes and the clean clothes were actually separated, and not falling into the same piles.

This meant that the man could actually step into his closet for once, something he hasn't been able to do for a while.

He had a brown trench coat hanging in the corner, all by itself, not having been touched in a few months. Nows a good time as ever, right?

The brunette grabbed the coat, and took it with him into the bathroom. He turned on the light, illuminating the entire room, including the lightbulbs that hung above the mirror, which gave the perfect lighting.

Facing the mirror, the man dressed in all black set the coat down on the counter, and picked up his comb. For the first time in a while, he combed through his severely tangled locks. Luckily his hair doesn't even reach his shoulders all the way, or else it'd take forever, and probably be really painful. Besides, he had recently showered that morning, and despite what anyone might say, he beat the two-in-one allegations, and conditioned his hair.

Despite taking little care of himself lately, his hair still had a glow to it, and it still kept its volume. Depression may have taken everything, but the man's hair? He's still got it.

He was oddly excited, barely even able to suppress his smile, as he watched himself get ready. But who cares? Nobody else was around, he could smile all he wanted.

Letting the smile widen, the brunette set down the comb, and stared at himself in the mirror. He decided to bend over the sink and splash some water on his face, before coming back up and blotting it dry with a towel.

Let's see, his hair? Done. His face? Looking lively. His outfit? In accordance to dress code, and looking quite stylish. He was so ready for this first day of work.

Before leaving the bathroom, he reached for the coat he had grabbed, and put it on finally, as he was about to leave. Taking one last look in the mirror, the fully dressed man smiled.

Maybe by looking this good, he'd finally find a beautiful woman to commit suicide with.

Dazai left the room, closing it behind him, and he walked forward to the living room, deciding to sit down on the couch. He grabbed his phone from his pocket, checking the time, realizing he was a little ahead of schedule. He didn't need to be at the café for another half hour, and it was only a fifteen minute walk, so he had a bit of time to kill.