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Ep: Finding Something, Part 1

The images were searing, burning into the skulls of the audience. Everyone was on edge, emotions just hovering over the surface. Atsushi wanted his thoughts to stop spiraling out to the most negative ideas. Atsushi knew Dazai was unwell. It wasn't a bold statement; it was a fact known to anyone who had met the man. The vision of Dazai's bandages blooming to bright red over his covered eyes. Atsushi hand-petted Sensei's fur.

His mentor was beyond unwell, and the thing that became clear from the episode alone was that Dazai had such a small group of people. A part of him wondered how Dazai viewed the agency and his partner, Atsushi. Another focused on this new arc. Was Ango dead? Did he betray the organization? Atsushi looked around and then turned to see Mori's face. There was nothing direct that he could pinpoint, but it was his eyes that were wrong somehow. It unsettled him.

Where did Mori fit into all of this? Mori's words from earlier floated into his mind, 'People grow up, and they grow apart.' Was it that simple? The weretiger thought about his life without Dazai. He couldn't imagine it, but once, not that long ago, he had thought the same about the orphanage, the director. Time was the determiner of all things here. Soon, he would have the answer. Now, fear was what he wanted to know.

Kunikida found himself unsure. It wasn't like it was a new thing. When first changing jobs, he was unsure of his abilities in all the forms he could apply them to. The knowledge that the screen provided him left him hollow. He wanted to help Dazai more now than ever, but that wasn't what Dazai wanted. He didn't want to be saved.

Kunikida's eyes turned to Atsushi. Ever since this kid showed up, Dazai has been different; in this place, in this in-between, he saw it even more. Dazai was crawling his way out of it. Dazai wasn't that person anymore. It was the hope he clung to. Now, all he needed to know was where to start.

"Welp, that was something," Tachihara stretched, which seemed to knock the audience out of their trance.

"I need to go to the bathroom," Kenji said to the air, jumping out of his seat and directing a question to the ceiling. "Do you mind opening the door screenbro?"

"Same," Yosano raised from the seat.

"Agreed," Ranpo said, cleaning his glasses.

"Yeah, I just need a minute to ah–. "

"Throw up," Tachihara finished.

"My poor ass is going numb here screenbro,"

Gin nodded at the statement.

The audience's focus was on the door in all its gothic frame. There was an eerie pause before a click was heard, then a creak. The screen lit up with a counter counting down from ten minutes. Kenji made his way out, along with a good amount of the audience, all seemingly dazed. Ranpo bee-lined to the kitchen in a frenzy, searching for something to devour. Even without turning around, the great detective sensed someone had followed him to the pantry. He paused and set down the snack he had grabbed.

"I didn't know..."

Yosano, unsure of what Ranpo meant, decided to take a guess. "No one could have known how deep Dazai—"

"Not that," Ranpo cut her off; his shoulders seemed to slump. "I knew that. I mean... Do you ever think you could've done so much more?"

"All the time," Yosano admitted, "but what exactly are you referring to?"

Ranpo hesitated like he was grasping for the words. "When I met him, it was raining."

Yosano was taken back, slightly confused by the change of direction.

"I know, I can't bend people to my will... that's what that monster does," Ranpo muttered, his voice quieter, filled with a rare uncertainty. "But I can't help thinking about that grey sky... how the rain drowned out all the sounds from the port,"Ranpo continued, his voice trailing off. "And sometimes... I wonder."