Drowning in the swamp of memories

chapter 13 PART II

The cool night air wrapped around us as Dazai and I walked out of the darkened, humid basement into the streets of Yokohama. The city was alive around us, neon lights flickering against the shadows of narrow alleyways and the occasional hum of street traffic echoing in the distance. Dazai’s hand gripped mine loosely, a fact that barely registered with me as my thoughts spun back to Kai.

Where was he? Why had he vanished without a trace? A bitter frustration rose within me. I clenched my free hand, resisting the urge to let my annoyance spill over. Dazai was silent, his tall frame slightly hunched as we walked. His brown, wavy hair fell over his eyes, and his long coat billowed behind him, giving him that usual aura of mystery. He didn’t meet my gaze, his eyes fixed ahead, seeming almost lost in his own world. Despite being beside him, my height barely reached his shoulder—something I’d normally have shrugged off but somehow only reminded me of the distance between us.

After a long silence, Dazai finally spoke, his voice casual yet curious, "So... how do you know Chuuya?"

He didn’t look at me as he asked, and I kept my gaze forward as well, shrugging slightly. "My gran-gran was a doctor," I replied, my voice cool and unbothered. "She used to patch him up, him and his gang, whenever they’d come in battered from their so-called battles. I was just a kid back then—got dragged along sometimes."

Dazai went silent again, his face unreadable. I was about to tune out again, sinking back into my thoughts, when I realized he’d suddenly stopped walking. His hand was still holding mine, and he’d leaned slightly toward me, his eyes narrowed as he reached out and adjusted my sweatshirt zipper. I blinked, momentarily thrown off guard, until I noticed the shadowy figure on the sidewalk nearby, his eyes glued to me with a look that screamed “creep.”

The man had a greasy look to him, short and wiry, with a thin grin that sent a shiver of disgust down my spine. He was staring unabashedly, his gaze fixed in a way that made me want to turn my Red Lotus on him just to teach him a lesson.

Dazai’s expression shifted, his hand sliding smoothly to the gun tucked at his waist, raising it to the man’s head with a steely seriousness I hadn’t expected. "Look again, and I’ll make sure you can’t," Dazai said in a deadly calm tone, his smile eerily polite. "Eyes off." The creep’s grin faltered instantly, and he stumbled back, hands raised, stuttering a mumbled apology before scurrying away.

Satisfied, Dazai let the gun drop and resumed walking, still holding my hand. This time, I tugged my hand away, a defiant look flashing in my eyes as I muttered, “I didn’t ask for help.”

Dazai didn’t react to my tone, not even looking down at me, though a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "Fine by me," he said, entirely unbothered, his eyes fixed forward. "Just don’t let that zipper down again."

Naturally, I yanked it down a few inches on purpose. Dazai gave a soft sigh, rolling his eyes as he shrugged off his long, tan coat and draped it over my shoulders. The coat was practically a tent on me, drowning me in fabric as I tried to push it off. But Dazai shot me a serious look, his gaze unyielding. "Keep it on, or I might have to mention to Kunikida that Kenji’s been handling all your paperwork.”

I narrowed my eyes, tempted to toss the coat off anyway. But with a sigh, I adjusted the coat around me, pulling it tighter as I turned my gaze back to the streets. He might have won this one, but he wasn’t going to pull that trick again.

Without another word, we continued our walk, side by side, each of us lost in our own thoughts.