Are you asking how people typically died, before it was their time?
[ The use of 'dispose' is too poignant an addition for Dazai to assume that the stranger insinuates anything but foul play. That and no matter how much his companion exudes the rugged masculinity that ought to suggest endless arrogance and the type of confidence that can render lesser men blind, his mood dredges the depths of sadness.
He reeks of pain. Dazai can almost taste it on the tip of his tongue; stronger and more satisfying in it's realness than any artificial feeling a drug may provide. ]
Oh, that's easy to answer!
[ He turns so that they can speak face to face, no matter the billowing clouds pouring from a cheshire mouth. Dazai is smiling, his voice chipper and lifted with the lit of intrigue that's been piqued. But none of that reaches dark eyes which gaze back without a hint of light; as empty and hollow in their appearance as Dorian feels.
If anyone was an expert on wrongful deaths within the scope of the world which he was most familiar, then Dazai would be it. He's lived with this fact for longer than his adulthood, but ached from recent wounds left by such a truth and mourned it for four long years. ]
We killed each other, of course.
[ It's rude to ask. But the answer exists, hovering unanswered over them like a rain-cloud just waiting to unleash the whole of it's downpour, at the slightest provocation. So why drag things out? Better to put them both out of their misery and end things painlessly. ]
You've lost someone important to you, haven't you?
[ A dangerous question, when the very same could just as easily be turned around and asked of himself. ]
no subject
[ The use of 'dispose' is too poignant an addition for Dazai to assume that the stranger insinuates anything but foul play. That and no matter how much his companion exudes the rugged masculinity that ought to suggest endless arrogance and the type of confidence that can render lesser men blind, his mood dredges the depths of sadness.
He reeks of pain. Dazai can almost taste it on the tip of his tongue; stronger and more satisfying in it's realness than any artificial feeling a drug may provide. ]
Oh, that's easy to answer!
[ He turns so that they can speak face to face, no matter the billowing clouds pouring from a cheshire mouth. Dazai is smiling, his voice chipper and lifted with the lit of intrigue that's been piqued. But none of that reaches dark eyes which gaze back without a hint of light; as empty and hollow in their appearance as Dorian feels.
If anyone was an expert on wrongful deaths within the scope of the world which he was most familiar, then Dazai would be it. He's lived with this fact for longer than his adulthood, but ached from recent wounds left by such a truth and mourned it for four long years. ]
We killed each other, of course.
[ It's rude to ask. But the answer exists, hovering unanswered over them like a rain-cloud just waiting to unleash the whole of it's downpour, at the slightest provocation. So why drag things out? Better to put them both out of their misery and end things painlessly. ]
You've lost someone important to you, haven't you?
[ A dangerous question, when the very same could just as easily be turned around and asked of himself. ]