[As his fingers gently stroke the other man's face, Oda is finally completely certain this man is truly Dazai. As the facade falls away to reveal Dazai's anguish, Oda frowns ever so slightly, guilty for having peeled the cover back. What more, Oda gave Gide and his men the deaths they had asked for, yet he urged Dazai to stay in a world devoid of meaning.
"Be on the side that saves people." Is this the result of Oda's request?
Dazai is so dark yet grand, so ominous and unworldly, and so much more worn and weathered and exhausted than how Oda had recounted to Gide in their singularity. From what Oda sees, Dazai still remains in that world of violence and bloodshed... but surely he's listened, surely he saves the weak, protects the orphans. Whether good or evil, surely, surely he's on the side that saves people.
Oda's remorseful expression slips into a somewhat softer one. He sees and feels for Dazai's pain and suffering, yet Dazai yearned to see him. And now he's here—whatever remains of his vengeance, there's no revenge to be had, nor is there any other reason for him to be here.
Aside from Dazai.]
Sorry— For having gone away.
[His voice had cracked a little from the cotton-dry feeling in his mouth and the unpleasant lump lodged tight in his throat.
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"Be on the side that saves people." Is this the result of Oda's request?
Dazai is so dark yet grand, so ominous and unworldly, and so much more worn and weathered and exhausted than how Oda had recounted to Gide in their singularity. From what Oda sees, Dazai still remains in that world of violence and bloodshed... but surely he's listened, surely he saves the weak, protects the orphans. Whether good or evil, surely, surely he's on the side that saves people.
Oda's remorseful expression slips into a somewhat softer one. He sees and feels for Dazai's pain and suffering, yet Dazai yearned to see him. And now he's here—whatever remains of his vengeance, there's no revenge to be had, nor is there any other reason for him to be here.
Aside from Dazai.]
Sorry— For having gone away.
[His voice had cracked a little from the cotton-dry feeling in his mouth and the unpleasant lump lodged tight in his throat.
And then, a plea.]
Let me make it up to you. Can I stay with you?