Bungo Stray Dogs - Volume 6 Chapter 3 Part 1

Chapter 3 Part 1

“Long time no see?” I repeated to the man as I approached him. “Have we met?”
The young man, who was waiting for me at the bar, wore a mellow smile that seemed so natural on him.
“No. This is the first time,” he replied while clinking the ice in his glass. “First time I’ve ever been to this bar, first time I ever drank here, and the first time you and I have ever met here, Odasaku.”
I looked around the bar once more. The walls stained with cigarette smoke, the pillars that had turned almost completely black with age, the liquor cabinet and lights: Nothing could escape the long, long passage of time. It was a small bar. Cramped. A customer could barely walk through the place without bumping into someone else. Every piece that contributed to the bar’s ambience was quiet and intimate. It was a space created for spending time alone with someone in secret.
Jazz softly played in the background. It was a song about a heartbreaking farewell. Not a bad place for a drink but not quite the sort of place you’d go if you were about to betray the Mafia.
“Let me ask you a question.” Something was bothering me. “Is ‘Odasaku’ my new nickname or something?”
“Yep.” The young man smiled hesitantly. “Nobody’s ever called you that before?”
“No one,” I honestly replied. Most people I know call me Oda. I would’ve remembered if someone gave me such a weird nickname.
The man turned away from me, lowered his gaze, and smiled. He wasn’t smiling at me. He was smiling for himself. But it seemed forced as if he had no idea what kind of expression to make.
What a strange guy.
“Anyway, have a seat, Odasaku.” He pointed to the counter seat next to him. “What’s your poison?”
“I’ll have a gimlet. No bitters.”
I sat one seat away from where he’d pointed to. Just in case. After staring at the empty spot next to him as if he was reflecting on something, he walked over to the other side of the counter and started making a drink. He then introduced himself as Dazai.
After returning to his seat, Dazai raised his glass into the air as if to say “Cheers,” but I didn’t return the gesture. I didn’t even take a sip of my own drink. After all, I still needed to see if this man was worth trusting.
Dazai drank alone for some time after that. Only the sound of the ice clinking in his glass—a substitute for words—filled the air.
“Odasaku, I’ve got an interesting story. Want to hear it?” he suddenly asked as if he couldn’t take the silence any longer.
“What is it?”
“I defused a bomb the other day. Finally, right?”
The young man fixed me with an earnest gaze. His eyes were strong, staring directly into mine.
“My wish finally came true. I was so excited I started to dance with the unexploded bomb in my arms! I’ve been waiting so long to tell you that.”
“Oh. Huh,” I replied.
Even I thought it was a ridiculous reply, but I had absolutely no idea what the point of his story was or where he was trying to go by telling it to me.
“One more thing: I finally perfected that hard tofu recipe I’ve been wanting you to eat. It’s three times harder and more flavorful now! I made one of my men taste a piece, and he broke his tooth on it. You’ll need to be careful when you try it for yourself!”
“Is it really that hard?” I asked. “How are you supposed to eat it, then?” “I don’t even know, to tell the truth!” he said with a grin. He seemed
genuinely happy. My impression of this smiley young man had completely changed from when I first met him moments ago. He may have been an adult, but his boyish voice made him sound far younger. He smiled like a lost child who had finally found his house.

“Oh yeah. I almost forgot. There’s something important I wanted to ask you, Odasaku… I heard you got the Rookie of the Year award for your novel.”
I was stunned. “How did you know that?” “There’s nothing I can’t find with a little digging.”
His lips curled into a cryptic smirk. After scratching my head, I replied, “That’s not exactly what happened, though. This guy at some publishing agency just happened to come across one of the garbage stories I was writing for practice. He asked me if I wanted to write a novel, and I said yes. In all honesty, though, I’m not confident it’s any good.”
“Why is that?”
“Because there’s only one story I want to write, and it’s in here.” I tapped my temple. “Unfortunately, I don’t have the necessary tools or skills to bring this story to life. I feel like a lost mountaineer standing before the tallest, most sacred mountain in the world with just a single, tiny ice ax.”
“You already have the tools,” claimed the young man with crystal clear eyes. “If you can’t write it, then nobody in this world can. I guarantee it. You’re much better than you think.”
“Thanks. But it’s hard to take someone’s word for it when you’ve just only met.”
I simply said the first thing that came to mind. The young man’s glass clinked, and I looked over to find him frozen with his drink still in hand. The glass, his boyish expression, even his breathing seemed to be frozen in time. I imagined something completely ridiculous for a moment: I felt as if the young man sitting before me was about to cry. But that wouldn’t make any sense. It wasn’t logical.
And as I expected, his expression instantly returned to normal.
“You’re right,” he agreed. “I don’t know what’s gotten into me. Please forget I said anything.”
His cheerful, boyish expression was now gone. After pondering for a moment, I decide to bring up the main issue.
“One of my men is in danger,” I said. “I’m sure you’ve heard the gist of what’s going on, but he’s gotten himself into a little mess at the Mafia headquarters. It’d be a miracle if he made it back out in one piece. Even if he did make it out alive, the Mafia would hunt him down for the rest of his life, so I came here to make sure that wouldn’t happen. I’m hoping we can come to an agreement that’ll benefit us both.”
The young man observed me in silence. It was as if he were staring at me from a thousand years in the future. He then murmured, “Akutagawa’s lucky to have come across a good friend like you.”
“What?”
“You don’t need to worry about Akutagawa. After today, the Mafia will never lay another finger on him. There’s no catch; he’ll be able to live the rest of his life in peace… Besides, this is what I’ve had planned since the beginning…if he makes it out of the Mafia headquarters alive, that is.”
I quietly stared at the young man without moving a muscle. He said he was planning on letting Akutagawa go from the beginning, which gave rise to an idea. It was a wild idea, but everything would fall into place if I was right. I decided to ask a leading question.
“Why did you lure Akutagawa into the Mafia headquarters, Dazai?”
Faint cracks appeared in the young man’s expression. For a brief moment, he seemed as shocked as if he had been stabbed right in the heart. Only for a brief moment, though. His sage smile, like that of a man who had been alive for thousands of years, immediately returned.
“Looks like I can’t fool you,” he quipped.
“It was just a lucky guess.” I shook my head. “But my suspicions were well-grounded. First, you knew Akutagawa’s name even though I never once mentioned the deal was about him. Plus, you said your plan from the start was never to go after him or retaliate. In other words, you knew in advance that he was going to sneak into the Mafia headquarters. There’s only one person who could’ve predicted that: the man who sent the letter and photo to the detective agency—the Mafia’s boss.”
I set my glass on the counter, then took something out of my pocket and placed it by my glass. Dazai’s eyes were naturally drawn to it.
“…What’s that?” he asked.
It was a gun aimed right for Dazai.
“A sign that this negotiation is over,” I explained flatly. “While I don’t feel completely safe even with a gun to your head, I unfortunately don’t have anything else on me today.”
It was an old, well-cared-for pistol. We’d gone through so much together over the years that I basically considered it my partner. I could hit a target with this gun even with my eyes closed.

Dazai didn’t seem too appreciative of my gesture, though. He looked at the gun as if he was trying to restrain himself.
“Put that gun away.”
“I can’t,” I told him while lightly placing my finger on the trigger. “Not when I’m up against the Port Mafia’s boss—especially if this meeting itself is one of the Mafia’s traps.”
“I didn’t become the boss because I wanted to.” His piercing gaze bored a hole right through me. “That’s the truth.”
His eyes were so genuine that I almost started to believe him, but this was the Port Mafia’s legendary boss. Lying to a two-bit detective like me was probably easier than breathing for him. I tightened my grip around my gun.
“Looks like I need to come up with a new plan to save Akutagawa,” I noted. “If I make it out of this bar alive, that is.”
“This isn’t a trap. I would never even dream of doing something like that to you,” Dazai insisted. He still sounded like he was telling the truth.
Damn it. I couldn’t even trust my own eyes anymore. I’d probably do better at negotiating and getting out of here alive if I gouged them out.
“Odasaku, you asked me why I lured Akutagawa to the Mafia headquarters,” he began. “I did it to protect this world.”
“‘This world’?”
“This is but one of countless worlds,” he replied while shooting me a pleading look. “And in another—in the original world, you and I were friends. We drank at this bar and spent time together talking about the most ridiculous things.”
I gave thought to the possibility.
“Even if that were true…,” I said, “…that doesn’t change what you did to Akutagawa.”
The young man tried to say something, but he seemed unable to find the right words. He spoke in a halting tone. “Odasaku, listen. I—”
“Don’t call me that.” Even I was surprised with how sharp my tone was. “My enemies have no business calling me that.”
He suddenly looked like he was struggling to breathe. His face twisted, and his eyes wandered about meaninglessly. He opened his mouth, then closed it. It was as if he was fighting something that couldn’t be seen.
“It was hard,” muttered the young man. “It was really hard fighting Mimic without you in the organization. I had no choice but to take over for Mori and make enemies of everyone around me to expand the business. Everything I did was for this world’s—”
Dazai’s gasping words vanished into thin air with a sigh. Remnant particles of his emotions wandered about the bar. Nobody said anything for a while after that. Only silence. Like a sweet farewell, a melancholic piano tune began to play in the background.
“The reason I invited you here was to say good-bye,” he said after a few minutes passed. “A life with someone you can say good-bye to is a good life, especially when it hurts so much to say it to them. Am I wrong?”
After thinking for a few moments, I told him he was right. Dazai looked a touch relieved as he stood up out of his chair.
“I’m out.” He quietly stared down the barrel of my gun, then locked eyes with me. “If you want to shoot me, then do it. But if I’m allowed one request, I ask that you don’t shoot me here. Not at this bar. I don’t care if you shoot me anywhere else, though.”
I looked at Dazai. I didn’t know why, but I wanted to honor his request. I slipped my gun back into my pocket.
“Thank you.” Dazai faintly smiled before he turned his back to me and began leaving. “Good-bye, Odasaku.”
Dazai ascended the staircase until he was out of sight, never to look back again. The last thing I heard was the door softly shutting behind him.