Saskia watched from a dark and distant corner the way Dazai Osamu operated as a human being waiting alone in a social place. Dazai was charming a female patron. Skillfully — might she give him credit where it's due — cajoling and appeasing the woman with his flattering words. Blok couldn't hear a sound from them, but the observation was enough. Dazai's victim placed a hand to her mouth, evidently giggling, and waved a hand before his face to shoo away his cunning words. Do not mistake him for his mask. While appearing to be a slacker in everything, Dazai was a craftsman. The masks he owned were numerous and each was meticulously done. Saskia cocked her head as she watched the man kiss the woman's hand and get up from his seat. She sighed. Not nearly as stealthy as she thought she was. They made eye contact, and Saskia followed him.

She ordered a virgin drink, while Dazai got himself a glass of orange juice with a straw. She gave him a questioning look but didn't react in any other way. Questioning Dazai was akin to questioning god. God's ways are not our ways and all that. And then Saskia started to talk. Everything she had gathered about Matsuakta, however little it was, everything that was unsettling her. And he listened. He listened while sipping on his juice, sometimes purposefully loud, and with a look of a curious child. Do not mistake him for his mask. When she finished, Dazai grinned.

"All I'm saying is that it's a bit suspicious, Detective Block," Dazai said with a playful pout, "that you withheld it until now." Saskia rolled her eyes at it. Why was he bothering himself with being so pretentious was beyond her understanding. He could have dropped the act and be straight with her. She could take it. But he never did. Frustrating.

"I'm telling you now," she replied. "Matsukata used to spy for the mafia. He didn't give out any information about personnel."

"And you are sure of it," he said with a grin on his face. Saskia just blankly stared at him. If this was his idea of a joke, she didn't share the sentiment. Dazai dropped his grin after a few seconds of no reaction. "Well, what information was he giving out?" he asked with a tilt of his head.

"Does it matter?" Blok asked. She couldn't imagine questioning Matsukata about his mafia affair without being…well….unpleasant. The whole conversation would be very unpleasant. In addition, now she had to find evidence and uncover him. He was a traitor once before. He fed information to the mafia. Did it matter what information? Not to her. And Dazai didn't have to be involved in the slightest. Their business was catching a shapeshifting gifted and not uncover the dirt on the precinct.

"Of course," Dazai replied. "It could tell us—"

"Dazai," Saskia said with an edge to her voice, "it's none of your business."

"Then why did you tell me about it?" he blinked at her.

"Because I can't tell anyone else," she confessed. It was the ugly truth. It was the numbness inside her that moved her to text him. It was the feeling of the walls closing on her and knowing there were fewer and fewer people she could trust. Ironic at it was, her ability didn't disclose her trustworthy people, just the people who lied the most. She can't trust Matsukata, after knowing everything, no one would be able too. And she cannot trust Dazai because he is Dazai.

"I can't tell anyone at the station," she continued ranting, "without evidence I'll just sound mad. And ruin whatever relationships I have there. But I need to tell someone, otherwise, I'll go mad and so it might as well be you. I can bounce some ideas off of you."

"In that case," Dazai smiled. It wasn't the empty smile he often wore. It was a self-satisfied smirk. "I have some ideas to bounce off of you."

"Why are you," she said but stopped. This was a bit too late to question his motivation, wasn't it? But she needed to hear the answer. "Why did you even bother coming here and listening to me? Why do you want to help?" She sounded affronted. Yet she wasn't. Not by his presence or his willingness to listen. If she dared to look inside herself, she felt grateful.

"if I'm with you, I don't have to do paperwork. And because I want to help you," he answered simply while chewing on the straw. It came off so naturally. It was terrifyingly ordinary. Do not mistake him for his mask, she reminded herself. Dazai Osamu doesn't do kind.

And she reminded herself over and over again. Over the course of their conversations about nothing, about things that let their minds wander off somewhere it was a little better than here. They didn't talk about themselves or their past or hopes for the future. They talked about the history of ADA, the taste of alcohol, and annoying paperwork. Together they joked about abilities and lack of thrill in the lives they lead. They laughed about things people did and were deemed amusing or ridiculous by them. Not once did they pose a question about other's past or experiences or dreams. As removed and as distant as possible, they were here to find a little solace. It was fragile. They barely achieved it.

She had watched people lie and she knew exactly when they lied. But Dazai Osamu was different. No matter how she watched him, how closely she observed the little things he did when talking, she could never capture the things that gave him away. As if the truth and lie existed at the same time, it didn't matter what he talked about, he talked about it all the same. He talked about life as he talked about death. He joked about a lack of thrill in life as he joked about the thrill in death. He was unreadable, unknown, uncharted.

Saskia looked at him again. She would never be able to read Dazai. He wouldn't let her. She sighed and got up from the stool.

"Leaving already?" Dazai asked with a cock of his head.

"Yup," she chuckled.

"I thought you'd keep me company."

Blok rolled her eyes at that. She looked around the bar, easily finding the woman Dazai was previously flirting with. "I think you should reconsider the company you want to keep," she said still looking at the woman. Dazai followed her line of sight and chuckled.

"If you insist," he said as if meekly agreeing to something forced on him. Saskia huffed and shook her head. This man was strange in more ways than one. She made one step forward and was stopped by Dazai's voice again.

"Are you sure you want to leave?" he asked. It wasn't an option. She was leaving.

"See you around, Dazai," she muttered only loud enough for him to hear. It was not a conversation to be had here and now. She was leaving. And Dazai would go back to what he was doing before she arrived. And that gave her a sense of control over reality. By choosing to go home when she didn't want to. When it was tempting to remain in the company of a man she would never be able to read and who wasn't a part of her ability. But remaining together in this forgotten hole-in-the-wall bar would be an act of kindness toward each other. It would be throwing a lifeline to the other and not let them drown in their respective loneliness. Dazai Osamu doesn't do kind.

Blok rushed Ueda in the conference room and closed the door behind them. After closing the blinders, she let out a sigh and put on a mask. It was Dazai's plan. She was going along with his plan. "Tell Ueda to come to the station early. Talk to him one-on-one." The easy part was done. Ueda wasn't one to refuse a colleague. And Saskia was clearly looking distressed lately. Who would have thought it would play into her hands. Ueda was standing and patiently waiting for her to talk. "Say it's about Matsukata. He is worrying you. Something bad happened to him recently, he has trouble coping." Saskia doubted it was the reason behind her partner's dualistic nature. "Lie."

"I think Matsukata has PTSD or something," she said looking the man in the eye. Hiroto raised a brow in question. She did sound a tad mad to him right now. Understandable.

"PTSD?" Ueda asked. "From what?"

"I'm not saying it's like a diagnosis, but he has troubles dealing with something," she said. She needed to come off naturally. Something felt off to her, she couldn't pinpoint what it was. She was just a human being concerned for another human being. A colleague worried about another colleague. "Things he talks about," she continued, sounding purposefully hesitant, "are disturbing. I think the guy is about to lose faith."

"Faith?" Ueda questioned, amused. "I don't think he ever had one."

Blok managed to suppress the surprise erupting. This is was a joke on Ueda's part but it was an important give-away. It's not as if Matsukata had to proclaim his personal beliefs to anyone, but it surely didn't fit the self-portrait he has been painting. Her guts were correct. Something is off about her partner. Both of them, but for now she could take care of one.

"Tell me how he was before all that," she said endearingly. "So I can try and help him."

It was an easy lie. Truthfully, deceiving Ueda like this never seemed to be a hard job. He was a good detective, but he had too much faith in his fellow law enforcing men. It's because he never knew when they were lying. About little things, about little things that somehow mattered to them. Saskia would feel disgusted by herself and her actions a little later. Hiroto thought about her words for a moment in silence. He frowned. He crossed his arms. He looked at a loss. But Saskia hadn't changed a single thing about her story. Her expression was of calm acceptance.

"Let's sit down, I guess," Ueda said gravely. Blok understood his predicament and remained calm in the face of it. She couldn't express guilt over causing it. They sat down facing each other and Ueda started to talk. Saskia listened. And the more she listened, the more Matsukata Satoru didn't sound like the man she came to know. There was a layer of a different cloth to the costume. But she kept her disquiet locked inside and silenced. Her apprehensions hidden behind the wall of poise and appropriate indifference. Yet the sense of foreboding was overwhelming. Consciously or not, her fingers were gripping her phone. And just once, as she was taking in every word from Ueda, her mind recalled Dazai's name.