"I've found it," she said as she looked up, seeing the sky of a starry night.
"Hmm, found what?" he asked, opening his only visible eye, looking at her forlorn expression.
"The reason why everyone chooses not to stay." she replied.
"What is it th...
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"even every time that i'm mad at you, I would still bury that body for you "
___
Dazai Osamu never thought that he would see her again, bleeding in the streets, nonetheless. After all, [Name] was an important asset at Port Mafia. Surely, they'd come look for her, right?
He stopped his march towards the agency as his eyes were glued to the battered familiar figure, laying in her own puddle of blood. Dazai's mind was racing with thoughts, possibilities and outcomes of what will be his action next.
One thing he knew for sure, trouble follows wherever [Name] goes. Dazai knew something is not quite right. He knew from the moment his eyes caught sight of a lone, black rose petal flying from the North to somewhere in the alleyway.
Dazai knew the consequences that would come if he chose to help the dying girl. He knew the trouble that she'd cause yet he also know what she'd bring into his life, yet again. This time though, the consequences weighed heavier than the benifits. Dazai stepped aside, ready to pretend he didn't see anything. Specially not a familiar girl battling death right before his eyes. That was until a cough erupted from the girl's dry throat,
"O...Osa-" yet another cough erupted, cutting off her own sentence. [Name]'s hand reached for the untied belt of Dazai's trench coat.
Dazai perfectly predicted that this would happen, yet his eyes were filled with shock. He furrowed his eyebrows, as if he's still think what to do next. He knew exactly what, yet he didn't want to burden anyone else.
"[Name]..." Dazai quietly trailed off as he got a good look on the badly, beaten up girl.
A good number of bullets pierced her clothes, penetrating into her skin. Blood was oozing out from her mouth. Yellow and violet bruises were evident along her exposed skin. Her lips were busted and bleeding. Her black trench coat that once loosely hung around her shoulder was torn to shreds. Her blouse and pencil skirt, also ripped. Her fedora on her head was clinging on to its dear life just like the owner is. One thing remained the same though, her always-present red lipstick.
"O-osamu..." she smiled, bitterly. "T-the sad..ness r-really is... e-everlasting." she said she breathed her last words. A smile so bright is evident in her lipstick stained lips, finally glad to leave this world of misfits and miseries .
