But Dazai quickly covers that up by walking away from Oda to go focus on something else. Like one of the stacks of paper piling up in his office now.]
Of course you aren't, and I didn't expect you to say "wow, okay, let's go jump into your bed right now!" The point is that I would still be a better option for you than Giriko, even with that personal hurdle to get over.
[The rejection stings a lot, but he can at least pretend like it doesn't.]
[ he huffs, trying to ignore the way that dazai is trying to hide the obvious hurt from the ]
But I just don’t want to be a replacement or live in his shadow. [ he pauses, thinking. ] If I make a bad decision with you, it’s gotta be one we both enjoy.
What's not to see? You're calm, reliable, and you look like you know what you're doing. In the middle of something chaotic like this game, that kind of a presence is reassuring. It's the same with Saki-san too, though I think enough people here have mommy issues that they see her as a replacement mom than as someone to be with.
[He's just going to slide on over to the other couch now, inviting a friendly conversation while respecting Oda's previous statements enough not to invade his space too much.]
But humor me, and tell me about yourself.
[This is another Oda, not 'his Odasaku', so they might as well start off like they don't know each other.]
[ at least, in oda’s eyes it’s very true. in comparison to the rest of the agents here, in comparison to the rest of the agency—there’s nothing noteworthy about him.
when dazai sits next to him, oda does tense up for a second—but quickly relaxes. perhaps he’s getting used to this. he’s not yet sure if this is good or bad, but he’ll roll with it either way. ]
I was a member of the Armed Detective Agency before coming to the Foundation. I helped run an orphanage with fifteen kids, and had rescued Akutagawa a while back—he also joined the Agency.
[ he glances down at his papers for a moment, before continuing. ]
I also write during my spare time. It’s not the greatest, but it’s something I like to do.
[The other parts he had gathered through their previous conversations, and Dazai won't open the bag of "Aku fighting" again. Instead, he focuses on that last part, and he glances down to the papers.]
[ he instinctively pulls away the papers, suddenly self conscious. ]
I like writing about the lives of all sorts of people. The situations that drive them, their relationships—how they live and how they die. I thought I was the only one that would find it interesting...but, somehow, I managed to get published back in Yokohama. [ he nods to himself ] It was like a dream.
If you want to give a summary, I'll listen. I'd like that a lot, actually.
[He is admittedly curious. The Oda of his world had wanted to write a book, but never got the chance to. Would he have written something similar to this Oda's book?
[ oda perks up a little at that. though it’s barely visible, he’s excited to talk about the one thing he’s mildly proud of. ]
It’s based on a book I was given—the book that convinced me to stop killing. One of the characters was an assassin that had stopped killing. However, the pages where he explained why he stopped killing were ripped out, and I never found another copy of the book. So I followed the advice of the man that gave me the book and wrote about him. I wrote about the assassin’s life before that book and what drove him to stop killing.
[ he fidgets a little, suddenly a little self-conscious of himself. nevertheless, he continues. ]
I wanted to show how a single person can someone else’s life. Even the words that are meaningless to some can have a huge impact on someone else. Because that’s what happened to me.
[Oh. This right here, this is hitting way too close to home.
Something unreadable passes over Dazai's face, and his emotions are clearly becoming mixed. He wants to hear more, but his chest is starting to ache a bit too.]
Do you want to share those words? Or are they for you to know only?
[ oda’s an idiot, but not when it comes to this. he notices dazai’s expression change and he hesitates. does he want to hurt dazai more than he usually does just by existing?
he looks away, and sighs. ]
The book I was given was the third and final one of a series. Mm, the man I met didn’t want me to read it at first—he said it was the worst out of all of them. But when I kept insisting, he told me this:
“Then you write it. That is the only way the novel can retain its completeness. Writing novels is about writing people. How people live and how they die. The way I look at it, you have that qualification.” That was what that man told me the day I met him.
[ oda fidgets a little, the smallest hint of a smile on his face. ]
For someone like me, who had only been able to kill, something like that shook my world. I never thought I could do something besides murder...much less write about life. Even now... I still don’t know what that man saw in me.
He saw right down to your very soul, to the part of you that was waiting for a chance to break out and grow.
[Dazai looks like he has something else on his mind though, something he is comparing to Oda's story there. He hesitates in telling it, though, because it's a very personal story and he's not sure if he's ready to share it.
...but maybe it will help Oda too, to hear that his experiences are common. That Dazai understands having your worldview shaken like that.]
...I met someone, some time ago. It was after I was already in the Foundation. Before that point, I tended to keep to myself. I was a D-class, and befriending other D-class agents meant watching a lot of them die on missions. There was no point to it. All I could do was work and work until I eventually died too.
But on one mission, I met someone. That person was...their life had been so, so horrible, even before they came to this world. And yet they talked about it like it was nothing. They stayed positive, even when just hearing their story was enough to bring me to tears.
You know, if someone like that person could go through so much and still keep going, then I didn't really have much of a position to whine about my lot in life. Not when I could make a difference just by acting.
[ oda listens to dazai’s story closely. he takes in every word, expression unchanging as he imagines just how lonely this dazai must have been. isolating himself as a means to protect himself from the pain of loss— he understands it, if only just a little.
and the person he’s describing also piques oda’s interests a lot. it’s so vague, and he knew so little about the other agents that surrounded him, that it doesn’t ring any bells for him as to who this person’s identity could be. but that didn’t matter to oda—not nearly as much as the effects they had on this dazai. ]
I see. [ he smiles. ] I’m glad... that someone had that effect on you.
[ but then he pauses, a sudden curiosity overcoming him. ] What... happened to that person? If you don’t mind saying?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Oh that answer hurts a little.
But Dazai quickly covers that up by walking away from Oda to go focus on something else. Like one of the stacks of paper piling up in his office now.]
Of course you aren't, and I didn't expect you to say "wow, okay, let's go jump into your bed right now!" The point is that I would still be a better option for you than Giriko, even with that personal hurdle to get over.
[The rejection stings a lot, but he can at least pretend like it doesn't.]
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[ he huffs, trying to ignore the way that dazai is trying to hide the obvious hurt from the ]
But I just don’t want to be a replacement or live in his shadow. [ he pauses, thinking. ] If I make a bad decision with you, it’s gotta be one we both enjoy.
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...
Are you saying you would, if you thought I wasn't comparing you to him?
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Yeah.
1/2
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[YEP. Gonna put it off for another day. Maybe to get more time to show Oda that he's not seeing Oda as 'replacement Odasaku'.]
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[ he is screwed out for the night. the whole week, at least. the exhaustion is more obvious now that he’s let his guard down. ]
Though I don’t see what any of those spin the in spin the bottle saw in me, really. [ BIG SIGH ]
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[ he has never known what he’s doing a single day of his life. ANYWAYS. ]
Saki’s nice. I’m glad people like her.
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[Hi yes, he's bringing it back to that. Appreciate that people look up to you, Oda.]
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[ shrug!? ]
I’m not interesting.
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[He's just going to slide on over to the other couch now, inviting a friendly conversation while respecting Oda's previous statements enough not to invade his space too much.]
But humor me, and tell me about yourself.
[This is another Oda, not 'his Odasaku', so they might as well start off like they don't know each other.]
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[ at least, in oda’s eyes it’s very true. in comparison to the rest of the agents here, in comparison to the rest of the agency—there’s nothing noteworthy about him.
when dazai sits next to him, oda does tense up for a second—but quickly relaxes. perhaps he’s getting used to this. he’s not yet sure if this is good or bad, but he’ll roll with it either way. ]
I was a member of the Armed Detective Agency before coming to the Foundation. I helped run an orphanage with fifteen kids, and had rescued Akutagawa a while back—he also joined the Agency.
[ he glances down at his papers for a moment, before continuing. ]
I also write during my spare time. It’s not the greatest, but it’s something I like to do.
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Do you now? What do you like to write about?
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[ he instinctively pulls away the papers, suddenly self conscious. ]
I like writing about the lives of all sorts of people. The situations that drive them, their relationships—how they live and how they die. I thought I was the only one that would find it interesting...but, somehow, I managed to get published back in Yokohama. [ he nods to himself ] It was like a dream.
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[Not that he thinks he does, given their current situation.]
Are you working on your next book, then?
[He won't try to peek at the papers, but he can guess that's what they are.]
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[ because he’s not going to give Dazai any false hopes about either of them getting out alive.
when asked about his writing, however, oda stills in thought. ]
Maybe— [ hm, no. he shakes his head. ] I don’t know. I think I’m just trying to find things to do with my free time.
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[He is admittedly curious. The Oda of his world had wanted to write a book, but never got the chance to. Would he have written something similar to this Oda's book?
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[ oda perks up a little at that. though it’s barely visible, he’s excited to talk about the one thing he’s mildly proud of. ]
It’s based on a book I was given—the book that convinced me to stop killing. One of the characters was an assassin that had stopped killing. However, the pages where he explained why he stopped killing were ripped out, and I never found another copy of the book. So I followed the advice of the man that gave me the book and wrote about him. I wrote about the assassin’s life before that book and what drove him to stop killing.
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[He is. So curious now. Like this will answer a lot of the questions he has.]
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[ he fidgets a little, suddenly a little self-conscious of himself. nevertheless, he continues. ]
I wanted to show how a single person can someone else’s life. Even the words that are meaningless to some can have a huge impact on someone else. Because that’s what happened to me.
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[Oh. This right here, this is hitting way too close to home.
Something unreadable passes over Dazai's face, and his emotions are clearly becoming mixed. He wants to hear more, but his chest is starting to ache a bit too.]
Do you want to share those words? Or are they for you to know only?
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he looks away, and sighs. ]
The book I was given was the third and final one of a series. Mm, the man I met didn’t want me to read it at first—he said it was the worst out of all of them. But when I kept insisting, he told me this:
“Then you write it. That is the only way the novel can retain its completeness. Writing novels is about writing people. How people live and how they die. The way I look at it, you have that qualification.” That was what that man told me the day I met him.
[ oda fidgets a little, the smallest hint of a smile on his face. ]
For someone like me, who had only been able to kill, something like that shook my world. I never thought I could do something besides murder...much less write about life. Even now... I still don’t know what that man saw in me.
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[Dazai looks like he has something else on his mind though, something he is comparing to Oda's story there. He hesitates in telling it, though, because it's a very personal story and he's not sure if he's ready to share it.
...but maybe it will help Oda too, to hear that his experiences are common. That Dazai understands having your worldview shaken like that.]
...I met someone, some time ago. It was after I was already in the Foundation. Before that point, I tended to keep to myself. I was a D-class, and befriending other D-class agents meant watching a lot of them die on missions. There was no point to it. All I could do was work and work until I eventually died too.
But on one mission, I met someone. That person was...their life had been so, so horrible, even before they came to this world. And yet they talked about it like it was nothing. They stayed positive, even when just hearing their story was enough to bring me to tears.
You know, if someone like that person could go through so much and still keep going, then I didn't really have much of a position to whine about my lot in life. Not when I could make a difference just by acting.
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and the person he’s describing also piques oda’s interests a lot. it’s so vague, and he knew so little about the other agents that surrounded him, that it doesn’t ring any bells for him as to who this person’s identity could be. but that didn’t matter to oda—not nearly as much as the effects they had on this dazai. ]
I see. [ he smiles. ] I’m glad... that someone had that effect on you.
[ but then he pauses, a sudden curiosity overcoming him. ] What... happened to that person? If you don’t mind saying?
(no subject)