Chuuya wears his heart on his sleeve. There are things hidden, but those things which are crawling beneath the skin, like maggots hidden ones blood, creasing ones skin and making it crawl and dance and writhe in some sickening manner. ]
Yeah. That's right. It pisses me off that the boss would take you back in a second. You want an award for guessing that?
[ No hesitation. No denial. It's the same as ever. That's ever the problem. Chuuya is too honest, and so all those things that should be hidden protrude and bloat beneath the skin, creating tents with it before moving on.
His eyelids lower halfway, looking lazily now, as though Dazai had told him that the grass was green and that the sky is blue.
Only a diamond can polish a diamond. They're a pair of diamonds, scraping against and refining each other, and that's ever the problem.
With a tired sigh, he adds: ]
Let me guess: You knew that the Boss wouldn't execute you. You had your "contingency measures," [ He gestures vaguely because who cares now, ] But that really wasn't the point. You knew damn well that Mori-san didn't want to harm you. And you figured that even if for some reason all of that failed, I'd bail your ass out, just like always. Am I wrong?
[ His initial plan was flawless, of course; without fail, it would succeed, but even if it didn't, there wasn't even the faintest possibility of failure.
And that's the trouble of it all.
Because neither Mori or Chuuya could ever truly want to see him dead. Niether of them could see him dead, now, because - ]
If Mroi-san wanted you dead, you would be dead by now. I got all excited, but that was just my hubris, [ He clicks his tongue and shakes his head, ] Not even you can escape the terrors of the night. If Mori-san wanted you dead, you would be dead.
[ And if Chuuya really wanted him dead, well... Who knows. They'll never know. They'll never know, because Chuuya never really thought about it that hard. ]
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Chuuya wears his heart on his sleeve. There are things hidden, but those things which are crawling beneath the skin, like maggots hidden ones blood, creasing ones skin and making it crawl and dance and writhe in some sickening manner. ]
Yeah. That's right. It pisses me off that the boss would take you back in a second. You want an award for guessing that?
[ No hesitation. No denial. It's the same as ever. That's ever the problem. Chuuya is too honest, and so all those things that should be hidden protrude and bloat beneath the skin, creating tents with it before moving on.
His eyelids lower halfway, looking lazily now, as though Dazai had told him that the grass was green and that the sky is blue.
Only a diamond can polish a diamond. They're a pair of diamonds, scraping against and refining each other, and that's ever the problem.
With a tired sigh, he adds: ]
Let me guess: You knew that the Boss wouldn't execute you. You had your "contingency measures," [ He gestures vaguely because who cares now, ] But that really wasn't the point. You knew damn well that Mori-san didn't want to harm you. And you figured that even if for some reason all of that failed, I'd bail your ass out, just like always. Am I wrong?
[ His initial plan was flawless, of course; without fail, it would succeed, but even if it didn't, there wasn't even the faintest possibility of failure.
And that's the trouble of it all.
Because neither Mori or Chuuya could ever truly want to see him dead. Niether of them could see him dead, now, because - ]
If Mroi-san wanted you dead, you would be dead by now. I got all excited, but that was just my hubris, [ He clicks his tongue and shakes his head, ] Not even you can escape the terrors of the night. If Mori-san wanted you dead, you would be dead.
[ And if Chuuya really wanted him dead, well... Who knows. They'll never know. They'll never know, because Chuuya never really thought about it that hard. ]