⸸|ＨＵＭＡＮ ＭＡＳＫ |BSD OC [Rewriting]

0¿4

Act

________________________________________

'
生 が
き 罪
る の
こ 根
と 源
自
体 で
___す。 '

Osamu Dazai, No Longer Human

'Living itself is the source of sin.'

___________________________

♥︎Sleepwalker- akiaura
︎

The eyes became glassy, the clock was ticking and the gears were moving. It was too late, time was rushing inexorably. If only time would stop now. Tick Tock. Another second passes. A bitter tear rolls down cheek, not of sadness or anger, but of pure hatred and helplessness. Hand is shaking and clenching. An invisible bullet gets stuck in the throat. It's the price; the price for her freedom. And that voice, tempting as the devil himself, saying in your ear: Give yourself over to yourself. What should she do? Who is to be listened to? Herself or him. What? What should she do when so many different people's opinions attack her at once? She hesitated, then listened. The voices grew louder again. She breaks free, she does it. The purple-eyed devil didn't even have to say anything else. All it took was a tiny nudge towards the darkness it came from. Mind damaged, mind torn.
Three shots were fired.

She died in her sin.

'Please, hate me'

Mask said....

____________________________

A soft sigh came from under the white mask. Viera slid down the alley, nervously snapping her fingers against each other. Annoying. She thought.

She had been fulfilling her mission since early morning, starting to put its usefulness into question.

It was like watching a cat, wander aimlessly here and there, doing nothing special. He has never been anywhere in particular or done anything that could be considered 'suspicious'. There was no way to get close to him. She wasn't expecting anything, but still...

Dazai left the Agency at noon, which in itself was strange, just strange; who leaves work in the middle of the day? And then he went out, it seemed pointless. Finding him in the agency was obvious, but the fact that this man was simply lazy was less important. He walked like his back was broken sometimes, bending, stretching.

Mask leaned against the wall, thinking of him as someone who had managed to survive Fyodor's plan. She already had her guesses, but still felt a bit surprised. Mask saw him then, a completely different person.

Viera looked at the man, currently sitting at the small coffee table, reading a book. Coffee with milk without sugar. A very peculiar book "The Complete Suicide (完全自殺読本)". She didn't care, she had to find a way to find the information faster. It will take too long if she just follows him around all day, hoping to learn something. But there was no other idea.

On the Internet, documents, notes, government, public, systems, anything where there could be a mention of this man. It just looked like he didn't exist and the information sent from Fyodor was just basic. Just like that, an ordinary person. However, Mask knew that such things did not exist, he could not have survived during that attack on Yokohama. A normal person couldn't read outsmart Fyodor, at some point it even started to fascinate her a little. Like some detective puzzle. There were also shortcomings in his biography - most things were cut out, left unsaid.

She put her bag on the ground, pulling out her phone. Opened the flap, clicking the buttons. Leaning on the wall, tilting hip to the side. Mask lowered her head down, clearing her vision to the small screen. Should she text to Fyodor about this? It didn't sound like a good idea, especially since the mission was at a standstill with no way out.