7. Special Grade Cursed Spirit (Part I)

Osamu Dazai sat on the ground, watching Chuuya Nakahara quietly in his arms.

His gaze rested upon Chuuya with the lightness of early winter snow or a falling feather, tracing the lines of his face. His auburn hair remained as striking as ever, making Chuuya's skin appear even fairer. Those blue eyes were closed, just as they were after he unleashed "Corruption," and his nostrils flared slightly with each breath.

Chuuya rested in a peaceful, exhausted slumber.

Dazai reached out, feeling the flow of air beneath Chuuya's nose. Do cursed spirits need to breathe? He couldn't figure it out.

His hand drifted upward, playfully and vengefully tousling the hair of the person in his arms. "Seriously... it was Chuuya who caused all the trouble, yet he’s the one acting like the victim!"

Dazai’s hand slid down, brushing lightly over Chuuya’s eyelashes, tapping the tip of his nose, touching his closed lips, poking his Adam's apple, and finally coming to rest on his chest. Beneath his palm, a small heart hammered rhythmically.

Dazai swept his gaze over Chuuya’s entire form, a mocking smile curling the corner of his lips.

Having thoroughly examined Chuuya inside and out, Dazai finally turned his attention to the commotion caused by Chuuya’s "birth." The disturbance this time was far smaller than it had been in Yokohama.

Dazai picked up Chuuya and climbed out of the crater. Thanks to Chuuya’s better control this time, the pit was only a hundred meters wide and remained within the confines of the forest; it would not attract any unwanted attention for the moment.

As for Suguru Geto...

Dazai glanced in the direction he had fled. With the combined pressure from both himself and Chuuya, Geto must have been injured even more severely than Rimbaud. Though, even at his lightest, it was bad enough that he wouldn't have the time to come looking for trouble anytime soon. As for those curse users from the Star Religious Group... if they wanted to come and throw their lives away, that was fine by him.

Dazai found a clean spot to settle down with Chuuya and waited for him to wake up.

Looking back at the vast crater from a distance, he let his thoughts wander: perhaps, in time, this hole would fill with water, turning this part of the forest into some kind of tourist attraction. Or perhaps a suicide hotspot. After all, with Hanami around, anyone littering would surely be killed; she was quite the radical environmentalist.

Dazai leaned his back against a thick tree trunk, one leg bent, with Chuuya’s head resting on his other thigh. He toyed with Chuuya’s hair with his fingertips, and on a whim, braided it into a plait.

Just as Dazai, bored and idle, was preparing to turn the single large braid into several smaller ones, a hand caught his wrist.

Chuuya, now awake, snapped irritably, "Can you stop for one minute?!"

"Finally awake, Chuuya!" Dazai moved his wrist with a look of feigned disappointment, pulling free from Chuuya’s grip. He complained in a tone that sounded utterly nonchalant, "It really was a struggle to get you to 'be born'!"

Still caught in the exhaustion that followed a state like "Corruption," Chuuya asked lazily, "Who was that guy?"

Dazai replied with malicious glee, "The one who 'delivered' you, of course!"

"Get lost," Chuuya said, his brevity cutting through the air.

Dazai raised an eyebrow. "Wow, is this how you repay your debt, Chuuya? It was your own refusal to 'be born' that caused the problem in the first place!"

"I didn't have any consciousness before!" Chuuya opened his eyes, fuming. The moment he saw Dazai, he frowned. "Dazai, what is with this outfit?!"

"What's wrong with how I'm dressed?" Dazai wore a smile familiar to Chuuya, his eyes dark and heavy, carrying the same sinister air he’d had back when he was the youngest executive in the Port Mafia.

Chuuya pressed his lips together, studying him. There was nothing inherently wrong with Dazai’s attire, but... looking at the black suit and coat, the Dazai before him was exactly the same as the one from the Port Mafia, save for the bandages on his face.

Dazai rested his chin on one hand, watching Chuuya with a relaxed air. "You haven't forgotten what happened, have you, Chuuya?"

"...Of course I remember." Chuuya looked away. "I should have died. So, what did you do, Dazai?"

Dazai’s expression went cold instantly. He watched Chuuya’s guilty demeanor with a faint, mocking smile until the other man grew flustered and indignant.

Just as Chuuya was about to snap, Dazai chuckled. "Chuuya, welcome to the new world."

Chuuya froze. "...What does that mean?"

Dazai enjoyed the bewildered look on his face. "It means we are no longer in our original world."

Chuuya closed his eyes, grasping the reality quickly. "So this world..."

"No Port Mafia, no ability users. A completely new world," Dazai added. "Though, there are sorcerers and cursed spirits."

Chuuya asked, confused, "What are those?"

"Sorcerers are similar to ability users. Cursed spirits are manifestations of human negative emotions; they harbor malice toward ordinary people, but ordinary people cannot see them. The two sides are enemies." Dazai explained briefly, then looked at Chuuya, saying lightly, "Chuuya, we are cursed spirits now."

"...Huh?" Chuuya couldn't help but look at himself. Even in a different world, it ended up like this?

Dazai emphasized with a light tone, "Chuuya, neither of us is human anymore."

Chuuya looked at Dazai, and after a moment of silence, asked, "What does that have to do with why you're dressed like that?"

"Chuuya, we’re cursed spirits, not humans. Cursed spirits generally don't wear clothes," Dazai said. "I thought you might find this more familiar."

"Ha?" Chuuya arched an eyebrow. "What does familiarity have to do with what you're wearing? I'd recognize you even if you were reduced to ashes!"

Dazai teased, "That's true, little dogs do recognize people by their scent!"

Chuuya ground his teeth. "Dazai!"

"Save your temper until you can stand up on your own, Chuuya!" Taking advantage of Chuuya’s lack of strength, Dazai reached out to poke his cheek. "Who told you to be so stubborn about not coming out? Do you like being a ball that much?"

Chuuya said, exasperated, "I told you, I didn't have any consciousness before!"

"Eh—" Dazai drew out the sound. "Not even a little bit?"

Chuuya hesitated, as if recalling. "Maybe a faint trace." It wasn't so much consciousness as it was an instinct of existence. His subconscious told him that was enough, until he was dragged out once more by an outside force.

Chuuya remembered Rimbaud and asked, "That guy..."

"Alive. He ran off," Dazai answered succinctly.

Chuuya nodded. Right, Dazai had been there. He looked at the size of the crater they were in and sighed in relief; he didn't want to create another Suribachi City in this world.

Dazai stated decisively, "So it is still your fault, Chuuya!"

Chuuya sneered. "Ha! That guy was targeting you to begin with!"

Dazai looked at him with an expression that clearly said, *Chuuya, you are so ungrateful.* "If you hadn't delayed coming out..."

Chuuya protested, "Stop using the word 'born,' it’s so weird!"

"Then what should I use?" Dazai put on an expression of sudden realization. "Oh, right, in this situation, it's called 'hatching.' If you prefer that word, Chuuya, that's fine too!"

"I don't like it!" Chuuya grumbled. "That word is even weirder!"

The two exchanged a few more unenthusiastic barbs. When Chuuya failed to win the argument against Dazai once again, he asked, fuming, "So why are we still staying here?"

"Waiting for a few special-grade cursed spirits," Dazai said. "It won't be long."