Thirty three seconds…
Thirty two seconds…
Thirty one seconds…
Kunikida begins counting once Dazai's pen stops scribbling. He is well accustomed to counting down the seconds, well accustomed to anticipating a new deadline. His lips curl.
Deadline.
That's what this was. Nothing to be afraid of.
But that's all Kunikida feels.
But still, he sits, ramrod and facing forward. He will face Death, never shall he bow, especially when defending his ideals.
Three seconds…
Two seconds…
One second…
Zero.
Reset?
