[Chuuya says he knows, and Dazai isn't surprised, necessarily; if he weren't intelligent, they wouldn't have worked nearly as well together as they had. But he shakes his head, all the same. He doubts even Mori truly understands, why he had to go. It was never just about being angry, or holding a grudge, after all.]
No...I suspect Mori-san simply didn't think it would matter to me very much. What's the life of one low-ranked man against the acquisition of a Gifted Business Permit, after all? It's not an illogical calculation.
[Objectively speaking, it makes sense. He could see where he would do the same thing, in Mori's position. Dazai can't be objective, because it's Odasaku. Odasaku, who he'd burn down the world for, every world for, for the sake of one where he might be able to live. But while Dazai's still angry, while his resentment will burn inside his rotted heart as long as it has the audacity to keep beating, the blame doesn't lie on Mori alone.]
...I brought him into the Port Mafia to protect him. Nobody would dare to cross the very night of the city. But I might as well have put the gun to his ribs myself.
[The door creaks approvingly, though it does not give way. Dazai doesn't even spare it a glance.]
You're not wrong that the Agency doesn't hold any special significance.
[He likes them, genuinely respects a few of them, even. But there's nothing that binds him there, not really.]
Even so, it's not especially likely I would have occasion to leave. Because it's the place I can best fulfill the last thing he asked of me.
[If it weren't for those words, every bit as much chain as lifeline, the Port Mafia would likely have never seen him resurface. He might have finally released himself from this oxidizing dream of his.]
blanket cws for suicide ideation, grief, depression throughout but especially past here
No...I suspect Mori-san simply didn't think it would matter to me very much. What's the life of one low-ranked man against the acquisition of a Gifted Business Permit, after all? It's not an illogical calculation.
[Objectively speaking, it makes sense. He could see where he would do the same thing, in Mori's position. Dazai can't be objective, because it's Odasaku. Odasaku, who he'd burn down the world for, every world for, for the sake of one where he might be able to live. But while Dazai's still angry, while his resentment will burn inside his rotted heart as long as it has the audacity to keep beating, the blame doesn't lie on Mori alone.]
...I brought him into the Port Mafia to protect him. Nobody would dare to cross the very night of the city. But I might as well have put the gun to his ribs myself.
[The door creaks approvingly, though it does not give way. Dazai doesn't even spare it a glance.]
You're not wrong that the Agency doesn't hold any special significance.
[He likes them, genuinely respects a few of them, even. But there's nothing that binds him there, not really.]
Even so, it's not especially likely I would have occasion to leave. Because it's the place I can best fulfill the last thing he asked of me.
[If it weren't for those words, every bit as much chain as lifeline, the Port Mafia would likely have never seen him resurface. He might have finally released himself from this oxidizing dream of his.]