Who says there's anything wrong with being a freak? With this kind of thing, your own opinion is the only one that really matters. But it's worth asking yourself what purpose, exactly, your guilt actually serves.
[Fundamentally, it cannot help anyone who was harmed, after all, and it's clearly not helping him in the least. He steps around Gorgug, properly taking a seat in the second wicker daybed, stretching out with arms pillowed behind his head.]
...I'd like to tell you a story, about a certain detective agency, and a girl who crossed paths with it.
[Yeah, that wasn't hypothetical, before. Neither was the book, but catch him going into detail on that one never.]
She was taken in by the Mafia, after her parents were killed, and they had her using her special abilities to become an assassin for them. In six months, she'd killed thirty-five people. But then she crossed paths with a young man from the agency, who was kind to her and took her to see the sights around town, bought her delicious crepes. She came to even imagine she might want to be like him, but she was convinced she could never again walk in the light now that her soul was tainted with blood.
[He looks up toward the sky, away from Gorgug's averted gaze, that note of softness still present.]
But what she didn't know is that the Agency had its own former assassins within its ranks, even a man who was once in the Mafia himself. That the young man who reached out his hand to her was not long ago unable to control the abilities that turned him into a savage beast, one deemed no more than a menace to society. In the end, despite her fear and anguish she was able to take control of her future into her own hands, and help the Agency protect the entire city from destruction. It doesn't make up for those thirty-five lives, of course. Nothing ever could. But it meant she would be able to walk a different path than the one of violence and bloodshed she'd felt trapped in...and having delicious crepes whenever she wanted.
...It's a nice story, don't you think? I'm a big fan of the ending. My name's Dazai, by the way! Though you can still call me Door Guy, if you like~
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[Fundamentally, it cannot help anyone who was harmed, after all, and it's clearly not helping him in the least. He steps around Gorgug, properly taking a seat in the second wicker daybed, stretching out with arms pillowed behind his head.]
...I'd like to tell you a story, about a certain detective agency, and a girl who crossed paths with it.
[Yeah, that wasn't hypothetical, before. Neither was the book, but catch him going into detail on that one never.]
She was taken in by the Mafia, after her parents were killed, and they had her using her special abilities to become an assassin for them. In six months, she'd killed thirty-five people. But then she crossed paths with a young man from the agency, who was kind to her and took her to see the sights around town, bought her delicious crepes. She came to even imagine she might want to be like him, but she was convinced she could never again walk in the light now that her soul was tainted with blood.
[He looks up toward the sky, away from Gorgug's averted gaze, that note of softness still present.]
But what she didn't know is that the Agency had its own former assassins within its ranks, even a man who was once in the Mafia himself. That the young man who reached out his hand to her was not long ago unable to control the abilities that turned him into a savage beast, one deemed no more than a menace to society. In the end, despite her fear and anguish she was able to take control of her future into her own hands, and help the Agency protect the entire city from destruction. It doesn't make up for those thirty-five lives, of course. Nothing ever could. But it meant she would be able to walk a different path than the one of violence and bloodshed she'd felt trapped in...and having delicious crepes whenever she wanted.
...It's a nice story, don't you think? I'm a big fan of the ending. My name's Dazai, by the way! Though you can still call me Door Guy, if you like~