https://applebought.lofter.com/post/4be3754d_2b8e8312f

*Ooc Yes

*Happy Birthday to Ah Dun

  When I found him along the dried bloodstains, he was leaning against the street corner, surrounded by a noisy crowd, and the keystrokes of his cell phone kept coming and going. And I stood there, far away, helplessly holding onto the wall, and through the deafening screams and rapid gasps, I finally heard the child say:

  "I'm fine."

  As the sun set, Ward 206 saw off the last batch of visitors.

  The air suddenly became quiet, with only the sound of the equipment ticking. Across from the electrocardiograph, a pair of female hands gently placed lilies in a vase as a token of consolation. The famous detective leaned against the window, silently watching the setting sun. The boy and girl standing by the bed repeated the action of changing the patient's towel every fifteen minutes.

  Not long ago, Fukuzawa Yukichi invited the leader of the Minato Kuroko, Mori Ogai, to a nearby park for a talk, while the overly excited Akutagawa Ryunosuke was dragged downstairs by his boss, Nakahara Chuuya, to settle the medical bills.

  Because the injured person's abilities were too special, he could not receive the "Please Don't Die" treatment. Although he was rushed to the intensive care unit and underwent surgery, the young man with wounds all over his body still fell into a high fever and unconsciousness due to wound infection.

  Putting the vase down at the bedside, Yosano Akiko sat on a chair beside her and stared at the bandaged face of the man wearing a ventilator. Although she was unwilling, she forced herself to calculate the moment that could save someone's life.

  The door creaked open a little, immediately attracting the silent crowd.

  Kunikida Doppo, who was holding the door handle, held his breathing and forced himself to ignore those stares that seemed to be drowning him. He nodded slightly to the tense crowd and closed the door. The terrifying gazes finally dissipated.

  He sat down next to Yosano Akiko, telling her that she would be fine. He took out his notebook, tried to look relaxed, and began to write a detailed report on the case.

  The rustling sound of writing echoed in the silent ward. Everyone, after receiving a reply that couldn't be more reassuring, fell into an even more dead silence.

  Someone sighed, and Kunikida suddenly stopped writing, reviewed his incoherent report, and finally gave up his efforts to pretend. He lowered his head and admitted that he really didn't know how to behave.

  Death is not an unacceptable outcome for the members of the detective agency. Just as he is ready to sacrifice himself for his ideals at any time, all the members of the detective agency are ready to sacrifice themselves for what they cherish at any time.

  However, who can say that they are ready to lose their companion? Who can swear that they will never be anxious, uneasy, cry, or worry about him every night when they think of him?

  The problem doesn't end there. Your hateful companion is determined to march toward his own death.

  You knew he was going to die, he would die, you kept this terrible fate in mind, you held his unwilling arm while walking on the street, you skipped his favorite fish balls when ordering dishes, and you paid attention to everything during the fights when you were really angry. Watching him jumping around and being as happy as a god, day by day, you forgot about it. Then the damn moment came, one day he said to you, "I'm going out for a while", you replied with a "oh" without even looking up, and then everything became like today.

  So what is the question now? It is not that you are destined to die, but how can I save you.

  How can I save you.

  I think so, he thinks so, she thinks so, he and he, he and she, think so, everyone thinks so, but we are powerless, we don't know where to start and we don't know where to begin.

  The young man who was left behind to keep watch held the scarred hand and forced himself to suppress the sob in his throat.

  「烧退得差不多了啊，太宰。」

  The moment the dawn broke through the darkness, the person on the bed opened his eyes with difficulty. The first thing that came into view was the blurry double image of the white ceiling.

  There was a cold wet towel covering his forehead.

  The young man, whose body was aching and recovering, tried to move his left hand, which was not connected to the IV drip, but found that it was tightly covered by something warm. He tilted his head in confusion, and the towel on his forehead slipped to the pillow, and he saw his student lying on the bed. The exhausted boy carefully pulled his hand, and he had fallen into a deep sleep that was unbearable to wake up.

  Dazai Osamu smiled helplessly and just let him go.

  only--

  He turned his gaze blankly in the direction of the light, staring at the green leaves swaying in the summer morning breeze. He always felt that a few minutes ago, a warm hand had touched his forehead. 

  "An illusion?" the young man murmured, and suddenly he noticed the calendar on the wall. He remembered something.

  A very, very, very important matter.

  Once again, he closed his eyes with a faint smile, waiting for the ignorant boy to wake up from his dream.

  The sun was getting brighter, the clouds were drifting, and everything finally settled. The sound of the air conditioner drowned out the rising and falling breathing of the two people in the ward.

  Outside the window, white feathers fluttered down gently, and in the blink of an eye they melted into the oppressive heat, disappearing without a trace.