On recommence encore le lendemain

Chapter One: Metronome

It's late when Chuuya arrives in the city that his charge has apparently taken refuge in. Behind him, a fast food restaurant sign flickers and he can hear the static buzz of its light. Chuuya stands to his full height and looks around the mostly quiet intersection. Other than the buzz of the sign and a far off car alarm, it's silent and still. If it weren't for the bright lights of distant Yokohama, Chuuya would even say that it's peaceful.

Despite having never been in this city, Chuuya doesn't need to look around to know where he's at. Just minutes away from the sprawling metropolis of Yokohama, Saiwai-ku is one of the smaller wards branching off of Kawasaki. A quaint populace that believes in order, cleanliness and the happiness of its denizens.

The irony of this supposed Dazai living in a city where their motto is basically to be happy isn't wasted on Chuuya. Given Dazai's extensive repertoire, which Chuuya was sure to memorize on his way to Saiwai-ku, he actually wonders if Dazai had chosen this district for the very sake of satirical humor.

Either way, Chuuya already knows that he's not the biggest fan of this man. If he has to be honest with himself, Chuuya doesn't even want the misfortune of meeting Dazai in the flesh. If he had a say in the matter, he'd pass this on to a different angel. An angel that has the patience for a matter such as this. Chuuya isn't exactly known to be a saint when it comes to patience. He believes in being blunt and honest. Sometimes the truth requires a heavy hand and Chuuya certainly has no qualms about speaking his mind. Him being paired up with someone like Dazai feels like he's being set up for failure. Either his sharp tongue will spell the end of this man or the man will drive Chuuya to the very realms of insanity. He already knows that they're going to get along about as well as oil and water.

Taking in a deep breath, Chuuya closes his eyes and clears his mind. He feels a tug in the direction down one of the many side streets that run past him. Opening his eyes again, Chuuya sighs and resigns himself to the fate of being the guardian angel to a man who wishes for nothing more than death.

He stares up at the four story apartment complex, its white bricks gleaming from the nearby streetlight. A line of bicycles are chained up off to the side and next to them is a loudly humming vending machine. Tucked away in the center of the block, Chuuya is the only one standing on the thin street at this hour, though he does hear a few cars pass by on the busier street that this one branches away from.

A few moths flutter around the nearest streetlight, their small bodies hitting against the glass. He watches them for a moment, wondering what exactly is it that draws them to the light. No doubt, it hurts them as they mindlessly hurl themselves against the hot bulb. Tucking his hands in his pocket, Chuuya scoffs.

He's no better than them, the strange pull in his mind continuously guides him towards Dazai.

Without wasting anymore time pondering his job by comparing it to the foolishness of moths, Chuuya phases through the locked gate.

Much like the typical middle class Japanese apartment complex, the hallways are narrow but well kept. His shoes clack against the linoleum as he makes his way to the stairs at the back of the first floor. But something makes him pause.

The sudden memory of his nightmare plays through his mind. Chuuya feels as if he's back in his head, hurriedly climbing the stairs with his subordinate as they run- desperate to save themselves from whoever is following them. He can taste the blood on his tongue and the pain of breathing after being shot. He can feel the blind panic of being hunted down and sweat dripping down his back. His thundering heart is threatening to crack his ribs and Chuuya takes a tentative step backwards.