The Silent Script - Bungo Stray Dogs

Celoso

They found Fyodor standing in the grand hall.

It had taken them longer than expected to navigate back to the Keep's entrance through the throng already gathered outside. The last rays of the sun were slowly fading into a sky tinged with light pink. There were still a good few hours before the sermon was set to begin, but there were already a great number of people gathered in the garden outside. Though vast, Dazai wondered if it could host all the city's residents as he cast a dubious glance over his shoulders at the ever-growing mass of bodies.

The cacophony of voices cut off as the doors behind them closed, sealing them in a cocoon of sudden silence.

Nikolai pulled off his shabby cloak in a flourish and let it flutter to the ground behind him. "Well, that was exciting."

"To say the least," Dazai threw back his hood, strolling to the side table. He leaned against it, picking up a strawberry from the bowl and idly twirling it in his fingers. "You attract those kind often?"

"They're drawn to me," Nikolai winked. "It must be my winning personality!"

Dazai smiled lazily. "I'm sure."

He kept a casual conversation going with Nikolai, studying Fyodor out of the corner of his eye. Fyodor witnessed the exchange, completely expressionless. He hadn't said a word yet. It also didn't seem like he'd attended to any 'matters' of his, if the way he was dressed was any indication.

Dazai couldn't tell where one piece of garment ended and another began. His clothes were more extravagant than any he had seen him wear yet, although the sheer opulence of the outfit didn't overshadow his lean physique. His hair was pinned up with a golden clip to the right side just above his ear. Standing so still in the middle of the foyer with natural light catching the gold threads of his outfit, Fyodor looked like part of the decor itself.

With that amount of work gone into getting dressed, Dazai doubted he'd had time to do anything else. It also told him this sermon held significance.

"We should go out again sometime, just you and me," Nikolai whispered loud enough for everyone to hear, and that's when a budding realisation took root in Dazai. So that's what this was.

"Sounds like a plan," his voice was cheerful.

For some reason, Nikolai was ignoring Fyodor on purpose. He hadn't acknowledged Fyodor's presence ever since they'd stepped inside - as if Fyodor was simply part of an unseen audience to Nikolai's theatrics, and Dazai was the lead. Interesting.

Nikolai sidled up closer to Dazai, his expression growing serious. "Shall we play "Spot al Celoso, mi amigo?"

Dazai titled his head playfully. "My Spanish isn't nearly that good."

"Shall we play-"

"Certainly not," Fyodor interjected finally. "The sermon begins in a matter of hours."

Nikolai looked at Fyodor in mock surprise. "He complains because he can't win!"

"Dazai," Fyodor turned to him, disregarding Nikolai completely. His eyes studied him head to toe pointedly before he said, "You should get dressed too."

Dazai tossed the strawberry high in the air and caught it, pushing off the table. He hid an amused smirk, already halfway out the door.

"As you wish."

He was being used to make a statement, that much he'd deduced. Behind his back, Fyodor and Nikolai were staring daggers at each other. They waited until the door shut behind Dazai before Fyodor narrowed his eyes at the jester.

"You," Fyodor said quietly, "are done playing games."

Nikolai polished the pendant around his neck with his sleeve, grinning like a cheshire cat. "You can't ask a clown not to perform!"