Bungo Stray Dogs - Volume 5 Chapter 5 Part 3

5—3

Atsushi hesitated in front of the door that had appeared amid the fog.
What’s on the other side of this door? What am I so afraid of?
There was no end to the questions. The fear wasn’t going away, either.
That was when a boy shrieked from the other side. “…!”
Atsushi knew that was no ordinary scream, and he summoned all his courage. In that moment, he noticed a dynamic tiger etched on the magnificent white door.
He pried the heavy door open with everything he had. It creaked, and on the other side was a stone room.

It was an unusual room. The ceiling was high, and while there was sunlight coming in from the window, it felt oddly confined for some reason. Numerous machines littered the space, and countless cables extended toward its center.
In that room’s center stood a man with long hair and his back turned to Atsushi. Next to him was a child thrashing about in a chair. Atsushi’s heart froze.
What is that? Who…is that?
The buzzing sound of electricity echoed, followed by a bloodcurdling cry.
A boy was being electrocuted while bound to the chair… The boy crying and screaming was Atsushi six years ago!
What’s going on?!
Atsushi stood at the doorway at a loss for words.
Why? How? Atsushi couldn’t think straight. He felt dizzy.
What is this? I don’t remember any of this.
He started to recall something, but he shook his head.
…Did I simply forget?
No. This memory had just been locked away behind a door deep within my mind, hadn’t it? Because I wanted to forget that part of my past.

The Atsushi of six years ago screamed in agony as if forcing his present self to face his past. Atsushi slowly came to a realization as he watched.
Six years ago, I met a man named Tatsuhiko Shibusawa. I’d forgotten about him for a long time, but that was why I felt like something was bothering me whenever I heard his name and saw his picture.
Shibusawa had visited Atsushi when he was in the orphanage. He’d locked him in a room, hooked him up to various instruments after tying him to a chair, and ran an electric current through his body. What Atsushi was watching now was a vision of his past. His memories showed Shibusawa watching as he writhed in agony. Before long, a crystal-like gem emerged from the young Atsushi’s chest. The crystal was pale and glittered like the moon.
“Wow…,” uttered Shibusawa.
Atsushi could see a strange grin appear on the man’s face…but then something unusual happened. The screaming suddenly stopped, and the young Atsushi’s eyes flew open to reveal the eyes of a savage tiger. His black pupils shook within his golden irises. His slender arms transformed into forelegs with claws, and his filthy shoes burst open as his feet became muscular hind legs. After the sturdy metal constraints around his arms and legs instantly shattered like glass, he devoured the pale crystal that had separated from his body, and his ferocious fangs meshed.
Shibusawa began to panic, but it was too late. The young Atsushi had already completed his transformation. He mowed down the chair that once constrained him, destroyed every major piece of equipment in the room, and then—his tiger claws slashed clean through Shibusawa’s face.
His skin peeled straight off as the claws carved through his skull. The white room was painted with blood. Like countless skill crystals shattering
—like a beautiful flower blooming—the blood fell like rain. “I remember now.”

In the room of memories created by the fog, the eighteen-year-old Atsushi suddenly found himself facing Tatsuhiko Shibusawa—not the man killed by the tiger six years ago but a dim shadow of a man who had lost the light in his eyes. He didn’t know why he was watching the same memory as Atsushi. He was too focused on himself to care.
“Oh…,” Atsushi mumbled after recalling the memories once sealed in the depths of his mind.
“I sank my claws into his face. I sank my claws into his face. I sank my claws into his face. I sank my claws into his face. I sank my claws into his face…”
Atsushi tormented himself with those words over and over. Tatsuhiko Shibusawa began similarly muttering to himself: “I pressed the switch…”
Deep scars from the tiger’s giant claws appeared on his face just like they had six years ago. The memories once lost had now returned. He even remembered being killed after the tortured boy fought back. But why did Shibusawa target Atsushi six years ago in the first place? The reason was simple.
“Because I heard that your skill was the one that guided the envy of all skill users.”
Atsushi was clearly startled. “Who did you hear that from?”
“A Russian man named Fyodor,” Shibusawa replied. “And that was also the day I—”

“Yes,” Fyodor muttered to himself as Tatsuhiko Shibusawa journeyed his lost memories. Fyodor was now the only living person in Draconia. Dazai’s body lay on the floor while Shibusawa had vanished into thin air.
Under the colossal red photosphere, Fyodor expressed no concern about the other two people as he lowered his gaze to the skull in his hand. It was the skull that was always put on display with the apples on the top floor of Skull Fortress.
Crack. The paint began to peel off the skull.
Rattle. Crack. Crack. Rattle, rattle, rattle!
It was like listening to countless insects hatch from their eggs. Across the white skull’s forehead were deep gashes from an animal’s claws—the claws of a tiger. The skull, which had been on display in the fortress all this time, belonged to Shibusawa.
“That was the day you died,” whispered Fyodor to Shibusawa’s skull as if he took pity on him. “And the one who inherited your collection was…” He cast a glance at the spot where Tatsuhiko Shibusawa had been standing moments ago. “…your skill itself after it separated from your corpse.”
There must have been a red crystal somewhere on Shibusawa’s body, for in the end, he was nothing more than a puppet who believed he was human. He was a real-life Coppélia.
Fyodor raised the skull into the air. Countless red trails of light soared through Draconia, revealing a hidden room under the floor where myriads of other crystals were stored. The red sphere of light would grow exponentially if it absorbed these, for there were far more hidden crystals than all the ones on display. Fyodor sinisterly grinned as he stared into space.
“You’d forgotten your own death and became a crystal—a crystal who managed the collection that he himself was part of. The tiger’s claws sank into your skull and killed you.”

“I sank my claws into his face. I sank my claws into his face. I sank my claws into his face. I sank my claws into his face. I sank my claws into his face…”
Atsushi continued to blame himself as if time had stopped six years ago in that stone room.
I thought my skill had finally awakened after I got away from the orphanage and was left for dead in the street…but I was wrong.
Atsushi’s skill had actually awakened long before that. He’d wielded the tiger’s power once prior.
It all started…when he killed Shibusawa.
The guilt suffocated him, and he continued to torment himself. Tatsuhiko Shibusawa—or rather, the skill who looked identical to him— grumbled, “Yes, you killed me that day…”
“…!”
Shibusawa’s accusatory tone rubbed Atsushi the wrong way. It stoked his swelling, almost overflowing, feelings of guilt until his emotions burst out of him.
This is my fault?! No, that can’t be right!
He didn’t want to believe it. Atsushi turned on Shibusawa and screamed in spite of himself, “Of course I did!”
The cries of his heart turned into a roar.
I didn’t do anything wrong! I…!
“I just wanted to live!” he yelled with every fiber of his being. He thought he would break down if he didn’t.
Atsushi had always fought to protect himself. He would turn anything into a weapon to do so.
What’s wrong with an insatiable hunger for survival?!
“A boy will always use his claws in order to live!!”

He felt the heavy deadbolt snap on the white door.

Countless red spirals flashed in the collection room as the red sphere of light glistened with greater intensity. It was as if Draconia itself had come to life and was wielding its overflowing power. Hundreds—thousands—of skills were devoured by the ever-growing light until it started to even suck in Osamu Dazai’s corpse. His body floated into the air before being slowly swallowed by the light. Fyodor, who had been mirthfully observing the rampaging orb, expressed some surprise.
“…You’re a greedy man, Dazai.” He squinted as he saw Dazai merge with the light. “Even in death, you still plan to see this city’s demise.”
Dazai’s body melted into the red photosphere. Immediately, the light expanded throughout the room like an explosion, shattering the glass windows. Fyodor watched as the whirlpool of light-headed toward the outer world, then said to the skull in his hand:
“Allow me to enlighten you, since I’m your first friend ever. Did you ever stop to consider why my skill doesn’t separate from me within this fog?”
Skills would separate from their users and try to kill them if they ever came into contact with the fog. Nothing could change that. That was why the Armed Detective Agency was forced to battle against their own skills and why Dazai’s skill finally separated from him when he died. Nevertheless, Fyodor wasn’t killed by his skill. But why?

Fyodor’s footsteps echoed throughout Draconia while he slowly walked across the room as if that were his answer. He stopped to pick up an apple, but when he reached for it, there was a glittering red crystal on “his” hand
—a man who looked identical to Fyodor. “He” picked up the apple while Fyodor held the skull. They raised their spherical objects into the air with their backs to each other and whispered:
“I am crime.”
“I am punishment.”
Their identical voices shook Draconia. It was as if the cold, rigid echoes ridiculed and toyed with the entire situation.
“Did you know?” said Fyodor with a laugh as he held the skull aloft. “Crime and punishment are very close friends,” continued the other
Fyodor, smiling as he held the apple.
They faced opposite directions but felt the same thing. They could sense the red light surrounding Skull Fortress. They recited their lines alternatingly:
“The boundaries will vanish.” “The room will awaken.”
The red light swelled before their eyes, and they enticed it with their honeyed words.
“Incarnation of death—lord of the skill-consuming fog.”
“Ravage, devour, and unleash your fury as your instinct and heart desire.”
Their violet eyes creased as their lips curled into a smile.
A light thereupon shot out of the fortress as if it were following their commands. The boundless glow began swallowing the world in a red fog that grew exponentially by the second until it eventually took the form of a giant beast. It curled around Skull Fortress under the pale moonlight and came to life. The imposing creature consumed the moon, shrouded itself among the clouds, and scattered the fog. Even Skull Fortress appeared to be nothing more than a child’s toy in the presence of the dignified beast.
Its serpentine body was covered in glittering scales and a long, majestic mane. It could surely crush a building with its reptilian-like hands. Each one of its sadistic fangs was much larger than any human. It was a rare creature equally wicked and divine.
A dragon.
Fyodor watched with an almost chillingly beautiful smile as the creature, which wasn’t even supposed to exist in the world of man, appeared before him.
“This is neither a loss of control nor a singularity,” he said as if he were reciting an oracle. “The dragon is the true form of the chaos within each and every skill.”
The dragon descended upon Yokohama and roared, making its presence known to the world.