Cirque de Sentimentalité - YANDERE!DAZAI

CONVERSATIONS BEFORE A FIRE

"What did those Agency fellas talk about with you?"

You turn your head to find Bete staring down at you, her gloved hands on her well-rounded hips. In your hand was a small sandwich that Joker had made for you, a bonfire illuminating Bete's face as a small frown etched itself on her strong features. You turn back to the fire.

"Not much."

"Did you say anything?"

"Not much."

"It's always short answers with you, really," Bete sighs, taking a seat on the bench next to you. Her long legs crossed over each other like a spider's, the smooth, shaven skin glistening like the skin of a dark plum in the glowing light of the fire. "You know, it's hard to talk to you. You're like a cat. You meow, and I don't understand, but you're trying to say something to me like I'm a kitten. Do you get what I'm saying? You're difficult to understand and talk to. People don't like that."

"I don't care if people don't like it," You murmur through a mouthful of bread. The spring cold comes in waves and you shiver in the aftermath of its breath, to which Bete brings her cloak over your shoulders. You hum in appreciation. "People don't like me."

"Yet people are the very thing you control."

"They're bodies. Not people. Not anymore."

Bete whistles. Her dark, curly hair frames her face as her full lips purse to whistle. "Cynical view you've got there."

"It's the truth."

The two of you sit in silence, the crackling of the fire filling the silence. It grows as the wind blows over it, before settling down into a comfortable size once the wind passes.

"That Agency man looked like he was interested in you," Joker emerges from behind, to which Bete turns her head back to greet him with a wave. You don't turn back but continue to stare at the fire, orange glowing in your eyes like an incinerator. Everything that you thought of was burning up in flames now, every memory and every wound. "He looked enamoured."

"Enamoured?" Bete echoes. "By (last name)? That's weird; most people are put off by her."

"Hey now, let's not be mean," Joker says, with a hint of laughter in his voice. He turns to you before taking a seat on the other side of you. "What do you think? What did they talk about?"

You don't say anything to him.

"She said 'not much'," Bete answers for you. "She won't say anything much."

"Secretive now, are we?" Joker says, stretching his legs out. "No but seriously, what did they question you about?"

"We talked about you," You finally answer. Joker pops a cigarette out of his sleeve and lights it with the bonfire, the end flickering with a small flame before it dissolves into the white paper. His eyes flicker as you put emphasis on 'you', almost as though he was a chameleon and was changing colours to fit whatever you were about to say next. "We talked about your capacity for violence."

"At-at-at, don't tell me you told them I was a–"

"I told them you were a sadist."

Joker deadpans. "Really?"

"You are one."

"Name one time I enjoyed seeing someone in pain."

"Today you didn't stop a citizen from being nearly mauled to death by one of Bete's tigers," You answer quietly, as if you were trying to keep yourself hidden. Joker inhales his cigarette, tilting his head back and letting the white smoke hang over him before sinking into his tiny pores.