(Dazai has been having nightmares and has been hearing voices. The source comes to him.)
“You know… that mask you wear? It’s going to break soon.”
He whips his head to the source but finds only him standing in the middle of the Agency’s corridor.
“What with all the nightmares and sleepless nights, you ought to take my advice.”
Dazai frantically glances around to find the source. Even with his observation skills and keen eye, he couldnt detect any movement within the area.
His eyes finally rest at the window that displayed the traffic below.
There he sees his reflection, smirking and wearing mafia black, although faint, Dazai sees it.
His reflection only laughs, mocking and cold.
“Heed my advice: You never belonged to the light.”
Dazai narrows his eyes and… slowly walks toward the window.
“Why would I believe you? You are only a reflection, a part of me, you are a part of my past.” Dazai presses on, making sure that not even a counterpart or reflection of him figure him out.
“Really now? You wake up drenched in sweat, from nightmares of carnage and screams, of Mori-san and his scalpels, with that silly promise you made to a dead man. Living in the light while using methods from the dark.”
The reflection smiles. All too wide and inhuman. Sickly sweet yet poisonous cold.
“Do you honestly believe you have escaped your roots?”
Dazai blinks for a moment. The world changes in that moment. In that moment, he sees black blood in his hands, a gun holstered on his hip, and the tantalizing weight of a black trench coat all familiar with him.
He blinks. The world refocuses to normal.
“You have always kept your distance from t h e m right?” Dazai did not need a second to know what his reflection was referring to.
“Being in this so-called light, is too exhausting, ne? It’s better to keep your cold ex t e rio r to places where it belongs. Unlike here, you have to play the goody-goody two-shoes part, it’s not that hard.” The reflection clad in black hums, as though he was thinking. (DdDoO yYYyoU reALLly thINk he NEEds thInking?!?!)
“But it becomes boring. And boring is safe. Which means,” As though wind had entered the small hallway, he shivers like there was a hand that placed itself on Dazai’s shoulder.
“You crave for danger. The temporary excitement it gave.”
For a second, the voice was speaking twice at one. Two highly different voices contrasting one another to create a voice that only something made from n i g h t m a r e s can do.
“You aren’t real.” Dazai says. Too soft to be heard. The man clad in black raises a brow.
“You really need to learn your lessons. But perhaps, I’ll be the one to teach you.” His reflection began to fade but Dazai had caught on to the message.
“N-no, I still need to do this for Odasa-” Dazai’s eyes shrunk, fear coursing through him
“And then what? Our talents are to be used for fun g a m e s and enjoyable p u z z l e s, not some weak-ass detective questions.”
Dazai’s consciousness was beginning to fade and in the back of his mind was darkness and blood taking over the rest of him.
“N-no…” he could only stand and stare at his hands.
“Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to restore what we’ve lost.”
His vision was beginning to fade to black. He… he was surrendering his body to a will he cannot stop.
Tears started to form in the corner of his eyes.
“Yes, your blood is Mafia black. Let’s go home, shall we?”
@mirei191 what have i done.
Lets guess the ending hooray. Sorry for any typo errors too lazy to fix it haha xd.