LOVING MACHINE ‣ d. osamu

O9.

   RUSHING THROUGH EMPTY ALLEYWAYS, the desperate girl was heading toward the location where dazai had messaged her earlier. the mimic was already a dangerous organization on its own, but oda, fighting the leader? did he even know whether he would die or not?

would flawless save him?

   nearly tripping over a stray rock, [name] glanced left and right for any unwanted cars. she couldn't be run over by a silly car. it was raining heavily, and her umbrella was taking up all the water it could hold. the pouring sounds of rushing water were overwhelming her. the girl had always liked the rain, but now? it may be her one and only enemy from this point on.

   please, please, please, she thought, dashing and dodging more buildings, just as she passed lupin bar. it made her skid to a stop and was reminiscent of all her good memories there with the trio. shaking her head and letting the thoughts fly away, she returned to running, umbrella in hand.

   the umbrella was weighing her down. i can't lose odasaku, she thought determinedly, but other places kept her mind occupied. the distractions were starting to become irritating.

   she felt as if she were in suribachi city once more, trying to escape the clutches of the port mafia and the overwhelming feeling of dazai looking for her, before she encountered the kitsune. then, she had run off to kawasaki, the only city where she truly felt peace with.

i wonder how the crepe stand lady is doing nowadays?

┕━☽【❖】☾━┙

      with a bag of candies in his hand, odasaku went to visit the kids.

   when oda entered the curry shop, he felt a strange feeling wrap around his shoulders. he dropped the candies in horror. the chairs and stools were knocked over, the tables have been turned upside down. the main counter where the owner usually stood was cluttered and shattered with glass. the owner was beaten up and bloody, his cheerful presence robbed of whatever invaded this place. slowly starting to panic, he dashed upstairs, calling the names of the orphaned kids that he secretly visited in his free time. "sosuke?! katsumi?!" no answer. "yu?! shinji?! sakura?!"

   the kids' room was empty, toys spilled on the floor. a map? oda noticed, skimming over it. he read the map and opened the window in a panicked state. outside was a white van covered with curtains. as the curtains flew open, it revealed his orphan kids, screaming, panicking, and banging on the glass. suddenly, a hand pulled them back and shut the curtains.

   realizing that they were being endangered, he jumped out the window and ran after the parked van. only then did it explode, blowing him back aggressively and knocking him off course. i can't breathe... my throat is raw. who is that screaming?

   only did he notice that it was him who was letting out that anguished, heartbreaking cry.

   "why don't you write it then?" came a voice he remembered, a distant shard of memory. "only that way you can keep the story, as perfect as you envisioned it."

i'm sorry, i can't, he thought, getting back up weakly. not anymore.

i can't write a story anymore.

   "i thought i'd lose my right to do that if i killed again," oda said later on to dazai, hands in his pockets. it was pouring lightly, only then would it soon become heavier.

   "don't go!" dazai cried desperately, reaching a hand out for him, but the only thing he heard was footsteps fading away the further they went. i need to tell [name]. if i know anyone, she'll chase right after him. i... don't have the right to do such a thing.

   a flash of thunder and lightning erupted through the sky. "odasaku!" he called. no response. the ginger man had already walked off.

   the rain was making his clothes and hair stick to his body slightly, though nothing was see-through. this was a man—a man robbed of one of his only wills to live, a desperate and dangerous man who was aware of the consequences facing him like an old enemy.

   suddenly, he bumped into a man around the same age as him, carrying an umbrella and dragging himself through the rain. the young man had spiky black hair and what seemed to be a stereotypical detective's outfit, with the addition of yellow rain boots. the young detective fell over flat on his face, with one leg sticking out in the air awkwardly.

   "ow!" the detective yelled. whatever he was holding earlier had nearly slipped out of his hand, so now he was clutching onto it tightly. "i'm a detective, you know! you'd ought to have more respect." odasaku gazed down at him curiously.

"detective?"

   "not just any detective!" said the ravenette, magically springing back up like a plant in full bloom. he held the umbrella in front of himself. "i'm a great detective!" his annoyed expression was replaced with a smug look on his face that was rather cute. "i am the best detective the world has ever known, edogawa ranpo."

   "sorry i asked," oda said boredly, starting to turn away.

   "hey, wait!" ranpo yelled at once, holding his hand out in a yielding motion. "once you see my ability, you will not be so rude to me." from the folds of his overcoat, he whipped out a pair of what seemed to be half square frame spectacles. "if you doubt me, i'll show you." he put them on with a grin. "let's see..."

   inspecting odasaku, he gazed at him cautiously. "i'm not trying to be mean here, but you should not go where you're headed." oda's ears perked up at his words.

   "you should reconsider," ranpo continued, as the raging rain continued to pour aggressively.

   "if you go, you'll die."

oda sakunosuke gazed back at him with an unfazed expression.

"yeah." he replied.

"i know."

naturally, this poor man was ready to risk it all.

sorry, [name]. i couldn't make up the years i was supposed to with you.

sorry, dazai. i couldn't shape you into the man you were meant to be throughout life.

   sorry, ango. i couldn't spend days and nights with you again, rounding up at restaurants and bars.

sorry, kids. i couldn't save you in time.

i gotta go now. i'll see you all soon, i swear.

   oda sakunosuke was no longer to fit to sit at a desk and be a writer.