Assignment 16:

"There's an injured kid and another child with him!" An officer said into dispatch.

Kyouka hung behind Atsushi, on high alert.

"Dispatch in, there's a teen murderess escaped a few days ago on the loose, wielding a knife and dressed in a kimono," someone on the officer's radio spoke.

"Ah, no one here matches that description, although one of the kids is a young girl with raven hair," the captain officer handedly remarked.

Kyouka's eyes widened.

"—did you say one of those kids caught up in the trouble with underground activity was a young girl with raven hair? Is she fourteen?" The other police officer asked.

The noise in Kyouka's ears thundered. Changing her clothes had done nothing. The police officer approached Kyouka on edge, "I'm sorry miss, what did you say your age—-!"

She kicked him square in the jaw with her foot, sending the grown man cracking into his own car's windshield with a sickening crunch.

"Kyouka! No!" Atsushi yelled, grabbing her before she could do any more bodily harm to either officer. He ran off with her agitated.

"Why did you do that?!" He yelled, once they got away.

"They would have taken away the dream you showed me," Kyouka replied, her voice fierce. "I'll do whatever I have to for that dream if I have to in order to obtain it!" Her eyes were empty and manic but there was something else there too. Desperation. Hope. A desire to escape the current version of herself.

Atsushi flinched. "That's…" he didn't know what he could say in this situation.

"I…watched my own parents be cut down by that thing inside me," Kyouka shook. Her eyes were empty and manic. Atsushi couldn't help but flinch just a little, concerned. Her instincts were on fire. They were burning, twisting inside her like snakes. "You…do you think I am only capable of killing?" It was a soft quiet trembling question.

Atsushi's face twisted. "I don't know," he admitted, his voice shaking, "…but I choose to believe that you don't just exist to kill! That…there has to be more to whatever happened to you back then! I can't wrap my mind around the possibility that you actually would want to do that to your own parents! Maybe I'm wrong but you yourself…don't actually even know what happened do you?" Kouyou had also accused Atsushi of assuming things prematurely without knowing what was in someone's heart. He hated that she was right at the time. That's why, he wanted to be better—he wanted to understand Kyouka, not just jump to conclusions!

Kyouka shuddered. "I only remember…their deaths," she hollowly said.

Atsushi grit his teeth and he grabbed her face in his hands, speaking loudly. His tiger-eyed gaze pierced through Kyouka's glassy expression, bringing light back to her eyes. "You have to want to exist for something you, yourself, want to live for!" He didn't know what he could say.

He wasn't Dazai-San.

He wasn't that mysterious woman.

He wasn't strong.

He wasn't anything.

He was just a boy caught up in the madness of just breathing. Just being alive. And being an incredible burden on those around him. Just like Akutagawa had said.

Still.

He couldn't give up.

He wouldn't bail. Or run away. He wouldn't be a coward anymore. There had to be a reason to his own existence too dammit, even if it meant only saving one person at the end of it all. His eyes glinted like those of the beast inside him. He would use that damn beast's strength. As his own.

He'd save one person. Even if it killed him. At least he could do some good. He could do it. He could save her if he just tried to use his own strength instead of relying only on others!

This person, standing right in front of him!

He grabbed Kyouka's wrist, as she stood wide-eyed, and took off down another alleyway.

"Found you~" Fitzgerald said humorously, cutting them off where they ran to next.

"My, my, my little tactician is as accurate as always," Fitzgerald praised the packet he was holding. It was like looking at a stack of essays that a poor English teacher had to grade and they only had the night before to get through them all before report cards were due. Ew.

Kyouka lunged to strike Fitzgerald with her fist.

"No! Kyouka-Chan!" Atsushi cried out, but he was hit by Mark Twain's ability 'Huck & Finn' from afar. He was being sniped at. Kyouka was trying to keep him safe. They were on the docks somewhere cornered by Melville Herman and Scott Fitzgerald himself.

Fitzgerald dodged.

"We'll be taking your boyfriend now," Fitzgerald taunted the distraught girl, just picking up Atsushi like the sack of potatoes— and plot device— he was.

She gripped her pen tightly. It was her only weapon right now.

Kyouka lunged but she was hit by Twain's ability, the pen meant to lodge into Fitzgerald's neck with no warning instead smashed by the speed and force of the bullet now piercing her hand. Kyouka screamed in pain, collapsing.

Fitzgerald made a grimace. "The hospitality in this small island nation is sorely barbaric," he tutted. "Honestly, I would expect a kimono and a knife fight, not a kid dressed like she's about to play some American tennis wielding a pen of all things. So boring~"

Fitzgerald was a racist but considering all things, that was exactly —ironically—what Kyouka would have been donning if Alu hadn't stepped in with new clothes, lol.

She had been told to try to use her words, not violence when able. Kyouka had tried but these men were like all the others. They only wanted to hear the sound of their own voices. "No! Please don't take him!"

"Melville, go ahead and show off our new base," Fitzgerald said, humorously unphased by how distraught he was making this little girl.

"As you wish," Melville, an older bearded sailor man with a pipe nodded and he summoned a giant whale: Moby Dick. Near the port dock. It was definitely one hell of a big Dick. Uh, Whale.

They both began to board, leaving the distraught girl on the dock.

Kyouka was injured and in pain.

She collapsed to her knees, the tears falling freely. She had tried to save someone. But she had failed. That woman had said she was capable of being more than her past. But Fitzgerald spoke, as though confirming the fear drowning Kyouka's heart and mind. "We only just met girl, but in my experience, people like you who only know how to take lives are only deluding themselves into thinking they belong on the side that can save lives. You know what you are good at. Stick to that path. That's the only place where you'll ever have any worth."

With that, Fitzgerald left, leaving Kyouka now staring at the Moby Dick as it floated up into the air, cloaking itself.

"Then why?" Kyouka's voice cracked.

"I don't think you're a bad kid," that woman said.

"Don't you have something you want to live for?!" Atsushi cried out, holding her face in his hands. Those eyes. One pair was warm, like looking into a fireplace on low flame. But the other pair, yellow and purple eyes—that were like looking into the eyes of what it meant to live, itself.

Her body shook. "Why did you show me that bright warm light?"

The ADA showed her brief kindness.

"Why…did you let me hang onto hope?"

That woman wasn't here to save her.

What could she do against the government? Against the Port Mafia? What could the ADA as well do? They were all in hiding in the end because they couldn't win this. The enemy had won.

Kyouka had lost her footing on that shaky foundation she had been struggling to climb up onto. But it was lonely having no hand extended at the top to support her.

Kyouka was alone again.

"Freeze! Don't move! You're surrounded!" Someone tipped the squad of officers that now surrounded Kyouka at the wharf with shields and batons.

"Goodbye," Kyouka's voice shook as her face crumpled. She wailed. "And show me that dream no longer!"

—-

Pant.

Pant.

Alu looked around frantically. She dared not say Kyouka's name aloud because that would implicate matters and make them worse. But she had returned to where she told Kyouka to stay put and the girl was nowhere to be found.

Now, she found herself desperately searching. What had caused that girl to run off? Dammit. She had promised she would keep that girl safe. Alu looked around, breathing hard. This was bad. Alu grit her teeth. Dazai was at the hospital for an accident caused by The Guild.

She didn't know what the ADA was up to.

She definitely didn't want to have a run in with Mori right now. Making the ADA and Port Mafia cooperate was going to be damn difficult. Those two organizations were run by two very thick headed men, after all. Argh. Alu groaned. If those two organizations combined their efforts they would be able to take out The Guild easily!

This sucked.

Alu's eyes flickered. A girl with blonde hair and blue eyes popped into her mind. A small girl in a red dress, hands on her hips. Alu could practically hear her scolding her about getting wound up by this turn of events. "Haha…yeah, you're probably laughing and telling me I'm not thinking straight," she agreed.

Alu felt a twinge. She took off in the direction of her gut feeling. Finally coming to a corner of a dock building wall, she halted, eyes widening with alarm.

"No…." Alu's voice caught in her throat. But what could she do? To get involved would implicate her, and as a person who wasn't supposed to exist and wasn't a citizen to begin with, Alu was in a tight spot as it was just trying to keep a low profile.

'I told you, didn't I? We are better off just watching…helping does nothing in the end,' Juubi's gruff voice weighed on Alu's distraught mind.

But Alu wasn't in the mood for a quip. She just watched, as that scared lonely girl cried out those words before being detained.

"Why did you let me hang onto hope? Goodbye, and show me that dream no longer!"

There, in front of her, were armed guards, surrounding that girl. Alu's eyes widened with horror and realization. Something cold set into her bones. She was frozen, watching helplessly, to stop as Kyouka was arrested on the wharf. The girl's cry echoed, carried on the sea breeze but far more hollow than a bird's bones.

Kyouka was pushed into a wheeled prison, surrounded by cold unfeeling law enforcement that would judge her and try her without possibly giving her a chance for appeal. Who knows. The Guild was apparently the type to buy their way out of being held accountable, Alu could just tell their type from when she met Hawthorne and Mitchell. The only way one would have so little regard for the customs and laws of another nation would be someone who could buy their way above the law.

Kyouka didn't have the luxury of money or connections on the inside of the Japanese government on her side. And since she defected from the Port Mafia, Alu had a feeling that Mori wouldn't do more than the bare minimum as it were for her. No, he'd left the girl's apparent retrieval to Kouyou after all. Beyond that, it was hard to say if he would have even offered any additional aid.

Why did caring about other people always seem to have such terrible twists and turns sometimes? Life wasn't like a story, because in a story, at least a writer could control the characters. But this? This was a real girl. A real child. And Alu didn't know how to save her.

In this world, even she had times…when she felt powerless.

Alu smiled though it was a melancholy smile. "…This is why caring about others sucks sometimes…compared to being better off alone."

—-

Nathaniel Hawthorne was a man of faith.

He had been replaying that fight now in his mind's eye. He sat in a hospital bed, still recovering from the injuries he'd obtained from his fight with the Port Mafia hound. But it wasn't the medicine in his veins that made him feel numb inside.

That person had reminded him of something that he had so foolishly forgotten. He had lost sight of himself… and it took that strange woman for Hawthorne to find himself again. She wasn't God. But, at the time, the way even Margaret had been acting, it had been made clear to Nathaniel that this person was someone phenomenal.

"Hahhaha…the 'second coming' so to speak…is it here?" Hawthorne quietly asked no one. He looked at the cross on his bedside table. His expression twisted with guilt and genuine self-reflection.

"My calling…I thought it was only to pass Your Judgment…but…" he looked at his hands, as they trembled. "How could I have forgotten? That your Word…is also meant to Heal those lost in the dark?" His eyes widened slightly as his fingertips glowed.

There was no blood. But some letters appeared on his fingertips, regardless, glowing in yellow light. It spelled, 'Love.'

"Yes…'love'," he whispered. His fingertips felt warm and a little tingly.

When he had first returned with Mitchell, they had collapsed from the extent of their injuries. Though Nathaniel's were less severe, Mitchell was still in recovery next to him. She was in another bed, asleep at the moment. She'd spent earlier that day complaining about being bored. But she hadn't told Fitzgerald anything about that person.

Nathaniel Hawthorne didn't know why, but he found he, himself, also withheld information from Fitzgerald. But, Hawthorne's expression became determined. He knew for certain that he and Mitchell could no longer work for a man like Fitzgerald.

Fitzgerald came by just then, and popped in. "Oh! You're awake! Faring well, I take it?" He said brightly. Fitzgerald was not a bad man, but he was misguided. He was on the wrong path, but Hawthorne realized it wasn't his place to try to fix that.

"I am sorry for the costly expense of taking care of myself and Mitchell. It has no doubt caused you," Hawthorne sighed.

"Money is nothing! The important thing is you managed to get away! Quite remarkable! I still have to wonder how you managed it!" Fitzgerald smiled jovially but Hawthorne suddenly felt a shudder.

Fitzgerald came over, hands in his pockets, still smiling but Hawthorne sensed that Fitzgerald was using a silver tongue. "It was something of a Miracle," Hawthorne agreed, smiling wryly at his small pun. Hopefully housing God and Humor in the same house wouldn't send him to hell…hahahaha, hard to say if that strange woman was a good influence or not after all…

Fitzgerald pulled up a chair, sitting on it backwards, resting his head in his arms, over the back of the chair. "So how much will it cost?" He asked in good humor.

"Sir?" Hawthorne frowned.

"Don't be coy. Money speaks after all. I'm asking, how much do you want in exchange for telling me the 'secret' to your Miracle? According to my little adorable secretary….you and Mitchell should not have made it out so easily~. She calculated there was another party involved!" He said, his voice getting deeper and darker with each word spoken. "I was in disbelief myself when I read over her report, but then I realized, of course there's a 'logical' solution to this! Miracles don't just happen! I mean, good thing you and Mitchell made it out, don't get me wrong there! This just means we can strike back even harder once you're healed!"

Hawthorne shuddered. This man already knew. Of course Miss Alcott would have deduced that. She was their tactician after all. She was more than sharp. She was deadly. Hawthorne's eyes flickered.

"Why didn't she just deduce who it was then?" He quipped.

"Oh that…huh, funny story," Fitzgerald made a comical expression. "It's easier to show you." He pulled out the papers from his coat. They were burned badly. "Any time Miss Alcott tries to write about that person—well, everything catches on fire!"

Hawthorne pursed his lips. This was a terrible time to laugh but he was strangely reminded of the burning bush analogy here. The burning bush was a messenger of sorts too. It felt like a sign. It cemented one thing for Hawthorne. He was done living for those who had so little faith.

"I don't want your money."

Fitzgerald paused.

He gazed at Hawthorne, the concept of not having someone who could be bought apparently a foreign concept to this man. "You…will tell me for free then, yes? Ah, does this mean we are friends?" He said cutely, clasping his hands together.

Hawthorne felt a chill go down his very spine. This person truly was devoid of hope. Friends? Not even close. Both he and Mitchell were just tools to this person. It was apparent by now that Fitzgerald only wanted to use them for his own selfish agenda—he had promised Mitchell something as well.

When they first woke up, the following morning of the fight with The Port Mafia, Hawthorne caught Mitchell not in her usual babblesque attitude. She was sitting, just staring at her hands in her lap.

Hawthorne frowned, gazing at her. It wasn't his place to ask what was on her mind. Frankly, she'd probably bite his head off. Ugh, she was such an annoying woman. But she just looked at her hands, and began to cry quietly.

Hawthorne felt awkward. He looked away.

"I thought joining this Guild would restore honor to my family and clear all debts," Mitchell finally spoke. "I was promised if I cooperated with whatever plans Mr. Fitzgerald had in mind for this place, that in the end, it would be worth the cost—whatever that would be. But, I was wrong."

Hawthorne had his own reasons for joining, though he didn't voice them. But he too had been promised it would be worth the cost. But after looking at that strange person? Hearing her and seeing her repel his ability—she did more than that.

Hawthorne had felt himself be touched at the core of his very soul.

Judgment had been passed.

It had been him being judged.

The verdict was Guilty. He was guilty of his own hubris making him blind. But the punishment…?

Hawthorne almost felt a dry chuckle bubble in his throat.

It had been 'love'.

But the path to redemption was not one God would hold his hand and take him on. No, that was a path Hawthorne had to walk on his own. Or maybe not. His eyes wandered to Mitchell. The light that had been gone from his own eyes seemed to return.

That woman was annoying. But, she had stuck by his side. Actually if he thought about it, Mitchell had always been there. Huh. He had thought he walked God's path alone. But maybe, he wasn't meant to. Actually, maybe he could redeem himself by allowing himself to let someone's else's burden be shouldered by him.

"I have no interest in continuing this discussion," he said serious and resolute. He didn't look at Fitzgerald.

"I uh, chap, let me get this straight, you won't tell me who it is that saved you? Why not? We could use someone like that on our side!" Fitzgerald said, flummoxed.

"That person, doesn't take sides," Hawthorne thundered, as he glared at Fitzgerald.

Fitzgerald scratched his head, furrowing his brow. "You're not making much sense. Ah! Maybe that person got to you! Maybe you've been brainwashed!"

"That's not it," Mitchell spoke up, her voice loud and crisp like the wind in her ability.

Fitzgerald and Hawthorne blinked. They hadn't noticed she'd woken up. Mitchell gazed at Fitzgerald. "Sir, once I am well, I will be handing in my resignation. I do not wish to be a part of this war, putting my life on the line for something I don't believe in, any longer."

Hawthorne's eyes widened. Perhaps there was a little genuine admiration there too. For she had the courage to say what he could only think in his mind.

Her gaze was fierce. It was bright and fiery, like that woman had left a piece of herself behind for Mitchell to turn into her own fired up resolve.

Fitzgerald's expression looked like a pug drinking lemonade on a beach in Florida.

"You…you two…" he looked between them both. He held up his hands finally. "Okay, I understand, tensions are high," he chuckled lightly. "Fine, don't tell me about this person. I have other ways. But I'd seriously reconsider trying to leave."

"Or what? You'll kill us?" Hawthorne gazed at Fitzgerald, darkly.

Fitzgerald paused.

"…I'd rather it not come to that, personally," he said with a beaming smile and a grin. "Now, if you'll excuse me~" he saluted and left the room rather quickly, haha.

Hawthorne glanced at Mitchell once he was gone. Mitchell gazed at him. "You didn't sell that person out either…"

"Of course not," Hawthorne huffed, disgruntled, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He looked at her, ready for a rude remark when his voice died in his throat. Mitchell was smiling at him, as though with a touch of actual admiration.

Hawthorne felt his heart skip a beat. OMG, Doki, Doki.

A/N: I'd say 'get a room' but you're both in one. Make use of it. Lmao~

Ranpo walked around the city, skipping.

He was on a loopy high.

He was enjoying life!

He was Ranpo Edogawa! This world's #1 Detective, after all! There wasn't a case that he couldn't crack! Nor a person! Yes! He would figure out more about that woman once he knew where he was going~LOL~because Ranpo Edogawa was hella lost!

Suddenly, Ranpo found himself grabbed by a mysterious woman. "!?" She had spiky hair, wore odd clothes, and a mask over her face. She tugged him over to an alley. Ranpo stumbled along, confused.

"Well, look at what we have here," A boy's voice sneered. Arms crossed, a bandaid on his nose, was a boy named Tachihara. He had recently joined the Mafia and his partner, Gin, had been the one to apprehend the elusive detective. It was honestly too easy.

"Ah!" Ranpo looked back and forth between the two Mafioso. But he gazed at Tachihara longer. "I don't have time for this!" He brattily complained.

Gin held a blade to Ranpo's throat, twisting Ranpo's arm. Ranpo's free hand gripped Gin's blade hand, weakly, as Gin kicked him at the back of the knees forcing Ranpo to a kneeling position.

Gin was not chatty.

However, Tachihara tended to be. He sighed now, glancing at Ranpo. "You know, that was some trick you pulled…using an outsider—an American no less, to thwart Boss's plan to find you. Actually, it'd be a shame to just kill you. So how about this instead? You lead us to your little rat hole, and we promise to give them all a swift painless death?"

Ranpo's expression made Tachihara pause.

In no universe, did anyone, anyone threaten the people that Ranpo cared about. And those people were namely Fukuzawa and Yosano. Who the heck knows what Ranpo's views on the other agency members honestly were…considering he was fine with letting Atsushi be reduced to tiger chow overseas….lol.

But one thing was clear, loopy or not, Edogawa Ranpo was no fool.

His green eyes glared in defiance at Tachihara, his expression twisting to one of childish stubborn discontentment. Tachihara just smirked and gestured to Gin to put down the knife. "Hey, my pal here has no problem slitting your throat, so I'd cooperate if I were you."

"Hehehe…" Ranpo began to giggle.

Tachihara slapped him.

Ranpo's lower lip drew blood.

"Let's try this again," Tachihara said sweetly, grabbing Ranpo by his hair, Ranpo's hat fluttering off by now and nestled on the ground.

"Alright, I give!" Ranpo whined. "I don't like pain, so please stop hitting me!" He complained.

Tachihara nodded to Gin but without warning, Ranpo twisted. Tachihara's eyes widened with genuine shock and amazement. Ranpo was not known for much other than his brain and his love for junk food. But Ranpo just slammed a fist into Gin's stomach so hard that Gin flew back into the wall, grip slipping on him effortlessly.

Tachihara and Gin immediately went into combat tactics.

Tachihara kicked Ranpo in the stomach. Ranpo coughed up bile and blood, slamming into the dirt now. Finally he just went limp, lying there, back to them. Tachihara glanced at Gin who recovered swiftly, and both of them moved towards Ranpo.

Tachihara tutted. "You know, we were gonna be nice considering your little American lady friend and all talking about commadrie or some shit, but," he clicked his gun at Ranpo. "I'll at least grant you this. Any last words?"

Ranpo stirred, and Gin used a heeled foot to keep Ranpo down. The heel of the boot itself could probably crack his skull open in all honesty, but the weight was being applied by the toe of the boot to his neck, so Ranpo couldn't move easily. Ranpo clutched his chest, it looked like, and quivered. "Wah….scary…" he uttered.

"A bit cliche, but I'll take it," Tachihara shrugged with a grin, and a sigh as he aimed his gun at Ranpo's torso.

"Not…my last words," Ranpo panted.

"Hm?" Tachihara blinked.

"These are."

Tachihara's eyes narrowed. A piece of paper in Ranpo's hand that read: Suck it.

"Cute," Tachihara's vein twitched.

"Pfft." Gin puffed out something that sounded like actual laughter and Tachihara wanted to strangle Gin.

"Don't laugh!" He griped.

But Ranpo continued to smirk, an emerald glowing glint to his jade green eyes. When Ranpo's eyes were closed, he was a baby. But when they were open….knock knock, 'Daddy's home.' Or so the meme goes~lol. Under his breath, Ranpo mouthed the actual words and the slip of paper glowed.

"!?" Tachihara and Gin jolted.

This small slip of paper between Ranpo's fingertips, now extended without prior warning in front of Tachihara and Gin. The words facing Ranpo however read: 'Flash Bomb'.

"Oh shi—!" Tachihara exclaimed.

Gin grabbed him to yeet, lol, Tachihara grabbed by his jacket like he was a sack of groceries.

Without warning, the entire alley lit up in a brilliant flash of blinding light.

Meanwhile, Fitzgerald stormed to Alcott.

"S-sir?" She flustered as he came to her study. "It's late…?"

"Miss Alcott, I know it's difficult but we need to figure out how to meet that person from the reports! It's crucial to me being able to hold my team together at this point!" Fitzgerald hissed.

"W-what happened?" Miss Alcott stammered. She tried to keep busy at her desk but she was clearly flustered—and in love with this ?married?* man.

A/N: Yeah …he's apparently married with a wife and daughter he's trying to get back? Something about daughter being dead and stuff and wife being disconnected in there's a point where you just kinda go with it…in the canon BSD *thumbs up*

"Those two are under the impression that 'protecting that person's identity' is more important than their own stakes in this group! They seek to leave, Miss Alcott, and I cannot allow that person's ability or brainwashing to turn them against us!"

"Oh my…" Miss Alcott's eyes widened. "Please don't do anything hasty, sir. You already ignored my earlier report where I implored you to not engage with the tiger boy…"

"If I didn't, we wouldn't have gotten a leg up," he haughtily waved a hand dismissively. "I appreciate your reports but do you know who I am?"

"Yes," Miss Alcott meekly said. "You are Scott Fitzgerald, a man capable of obtaining anything he sets his mind on."

"Exactly!" He preened, enjoying having his ego stroked by his secretary—completely platonically. They probably do this a lot actually…tbh… oh lord. "I couldn't actually buy that information from Nate, but if I really think about it. That just opens up another opportunity. Because I know that a person's morals…can only go as far as their next meal!" He grinned darkly. "The president Fukuku or whatever his name was, stated I couldn't buy him or his little license with money but he had others on his side…a misguided fool but one with numbers. How many people are we up against in this case?"

Miss Alcott furrowed her brow, and spoke. "It's hard to get a read on this person but from what my ability tells me…just one, sir?"

"Exactly," Fitzgerald smirked darkly. Like he already won. "The cost of acquiring one person's loyalty is far cheaper than an existing entity~"

"S-Sir? Recruit?" Miss Alcott yelped.

"Why of course…Hawthorne may have had a change of heart at the last second, but I haven't ever met a person that couldn't be bought with a tempting paycheck~" Fitzgerald smiled like a boy who knew he had won the lottery before scratching off his ticket. "After all…When money talks, a person's inner greed always listens."

—-

Lovely rant =D. Because I just can't even ?¬タヘ ️with KAFKA's attempt at "edgy logic" and I apologize in advance. You can skip this if you don't wish to read about someone's descent into madness over BSD logical world BS.

A/n: * of course. It's conjecture but let's face it. Dazai knows everything about everything. He runs these worlds like Netflix throwbacks. He has the book. But instead of finding a world where Dazai can be happy with Oda, Kafka just gotta kick us in our figurative kiwis and squeeze the juice of our angst and agony because that apparently sells more than you know having two best friends who love each other in the whole wide world god forbid have a happy ending. It's cool. And don't get me started on science mojo bullshit. Science can suck my ? eggplant…. Singularity my ass. At this points physics has got nothing on the power of a fan fiction's determination. I'm about to 'alternate universe' this man's entire career. And by that, I mean…. Write logic for the book that actually makes sense because I'm sorry but you can't end humanity but you can create new life from nothing named Sigma!? Don't get me wrong, I love the kid, but really. ? ゚ᆬᄇ? ゚ムマ? ゚ᄃミ? and 13 years ago, jfc, Fyodor you must have 'resting baby face', because you don't look a day over 20 something.

I just have not enough words to express…..my frustration at how science is being used to half ass explain the rules of writing a magical book of all things! I love science fiction. I love science. But the logic of using the book to state that Dazai can only connect with other versions of himself through the death of Oda!?

I get it allowed him to find the book through sheer Dazai Uberbinch power but I'm sure there's a reason for why Dazai is still attempting to find a universe where Oda lives and Dazai can join him because a world where they can only see each other as long as they are no longer friends is both great and terrible if there is no actual way out ? ゚リᆳ And yeah I get he's trying to protect the current book which apparently holds his boyfriend(they can't be friends but at least he's alive right? ゚ᆬᄌ?) in it alive and well in BeastLandia Narnia, but then why does Dazai keep trying to commit suicide in this current (ORIGINAL) world? YOU CANT PROTECT YOUR BOOK OR YOUR MAN IF YOURE DEAD YOU FOOL. i mean….I just…the logic of the world building has great ideas but then Kafka I feel just is trying too hard to be overly existential with the execution of what the book symbolically stands for and it just doesn't work. There is a point where the glass ceiling breaks and dude, you just stuck an army of vampires through yours.

And why did you turn everyone into bloody effing vampires. Why? No. I'm just..no. Stop. Get some help. Writing help, preferably. Chuuya is on the chopping block. akutagwa got the chopping block. WHY HAVE DAZAI SET UP THOSE TWO(Atsushi and Akutagawa) JUST TO HAVE AKUTAGAWA DIE. AGH, THIS MAN HASN'T CHANGED SINCE FOUR YEARS AGO. THOSE "GENTLE MOMENTS" WITH CHUUYA ARE SERIOUSLY JUST QUEER BAITING. I mean Dazai in this world is still pretty terrible to Akutagwa and then we are expected to Just accept after a few interactions with Dazai that akutagawa just accepts Dazai's abuse all those years like 'Kay sempai noticed me, my years of emotional manipulation was totally worth it' because he wants me to pair with this tiger boy Atsushi who is necessary to Dazai's big grand master plan…. In order to become some duo that only understands each other through our mutual hatred for each other, apparently. Dazai needed them to connect through their mutual understanding of DEATH apparently trying to recreate himself and Oda basically cough. Cough.

Cuz apparently The 'A Team' as I'm going to dub them for short, combine their skills into a singularity or some shit that cuts through time and space conveniently. I mean, seriously? The chemistry is subpar at best in terms of them even being considered colleagues. They're nowhere near friends. Akutagwa taking Atsushi's advice to not kill for six months is great, but uh, DAZAI THAT WAS YOUR JOB. YOU HAD ONE. You are still an asshole to Akutagawa in the present when all he wanted was your praise instead fueling his hatred for Atsushi unnecessarily just by being a manipulative asshole. If you were their home room teacher in school you'd be fired. I mean you're mean to Akutagawa even in the side theatre shorts. ?

OH AND THIS LINE TICKLES ME. "and I needed that certain something that goes beyond power - something that only comes to life when your souls meet." Yeah these two quotes right here…."I needed you two to face death to get you to understand each other." Beast pg. 150

He seems to be saying that the singularity isn't enough, there is an extra power that comes from souls meeting. OR ITS JUST THE POWER OF HUMAN EMOTION. DUDE, YOU LIKE ODA. HE IS YOUR BEST FRIEND. LITERALLY YOU ARE DESCRIBING A BOND. A GENUINE EMOTIONAL CONNECTION. ITS NOT ROCKET SCIENCE EVEN IF KAFKA IS TRYING TO MAKE IT SOUND THAT WAY.

AND DEATH….oh honey. Just because you had a giant tree up your ass and didn't realize you liked someone until you were eighteen and they died doesn't mean you subject two innocent boys to your own parallel relationship building bullshit. ?

There is plot to be pushed through and I get that but the character building is pretty damn flat for our main three, Akutagawa, Atsushi, and Dazai. And also Dazai seems keen to once again go skipping into death linked arm with Fyodor so you know, I don't even know anymore. Chuuya, I'm joining you for a drink.

Until next time…?