Shuuji spent the next five months living like a ghost. Every night, he fell asleep with the same fear. Every morning, he woke up with the same goal.
Find anything related to his sister.
That was the only thing keeping him alive.
If Shuuji wasn't hacking, he was gathering scraps of information from the dark web, illegal forums or the information brokers he met before. If he wasn't digging through systems, he was breaking into old databases, foreign archives and hidden files of secret labs all around the world.
His hands never stopped typing. His eyes never left the screen for too long. His body never stopped trembling from exhaustion.
Sometimes, Shuuji worked until he passed out on the dusty floor of whatever abandoned place he used as shelter that week.
But he did not care.
Not when Mariko might still be somewhere out there. Not when he still had hope. Not when he believed his sister was still alive.
But day by day, that hope became smaller.
There were no records. No updates. No trace of her ever leaving that place. And whenever her name did appear, it always ended with the same word.
'Deceased.'
At first, Shuuji ignored it. He told himself it was fake. Maybe it was a cover-up or a lie. But the more he hacked, the more he learned that the labs abroad always kept detailed logs. It was too detailed to be false.
Then one night, he finally got another file after breaking into a heavily protected server. It was an experiment record. But unlike the first document he got, this one was detailed.
It said they forced a child named Tshushima Mariko through harsh experiments to trigger her special ability. It said she was pushed to her limit. It said she struggled mentally and physically.
This time, the record he got had several pictures included. These photos were now clearer and more vivid.
There were photos of Mariko sitting in a cold room. She looked thinner than he ever remembered. There were also another photo of her with dark bruises around her wrists, arms and ankles. She was staring blankly at the wall with hollow eyes. She did not look alive anymore. She looked broken.
But all of it had one similar conclusion.
She was dead.
When Shuuji saw it, he felt the world stop.
For the first time in years, his hands shook. After that, Shuuji did not open another file. He stopped searching for more records about his sister. He did not check another leads too.
Shuuji just sat there while staring at the files displayed on the screen.
That was when a thought suddenly came to him.
"Why am I still alive?" Shuuji muttered to himself.
He had lost his parents. Now he had lost Mariko too. They were all gone.
Maybe she died scared. Maybe she died hurting. Maybe she died calling for help he never gave.
Shuuji closed his eyes and took a shaky breathe. She did not deserve any of it. She did not deserve those sufferings.
But Shuuji failed her.
He failed the promise he made to their parents. He failed as an older twin. He failed as her brother.
Shuuji clenched his fists until his nails dug into his palms. His chest felt tight. Soon, his breath came out harsh and uneven.
Shuuji wanted to cry.
He wanted the tears to fall. He wanted to scream. He wanted to break something. He wanted to punch the wall until his bones cracked. He wanted to feel something!
But his eyes stayed dry. He could not shed a tear. Not even once.
That was when the Colonel's words from long ago echoed in his mind.
'You are not human anymore.'
Back then, Shuuji thought it was just one of his cruel ways to train him. Maybe he just wanted to scare him. Or maybe it was a new way to shape him.
But now, Shuuji was thinking that maybe the Colonel was right.
Shuuji heard people cried when they were heartbroken. He knew they sobbed when they lost someone. He was aware that a human broke down when they felt this kind of pain.
But Shuuji could not do it. There was something inside him that refused to move. It refused to bend and let his emotions flow.
He was not normal. He was not like other children his age. He was not soft or weak.
He was not human.
He was something made from pain and raised by violence. And something like that could not cry even when the whole world collapsed around him.
And as he sat there in the dark, Shuuji slowly understood one thing. Whatever he used to be died long ago. And the rest of him was now something completely different.
That afternoon, Shuuji walked without thinking. He did not know where he was going. He did not care where his feet brought him.
A lot of people bumped into him on the sidewalk. Some cursed at him while others gave him strange looks because of his tired face and thin frame.
But Shuuji did not react.
His mind was empty. His chest was heavy. His whole body felt like it was not his anymore.
So he kept walking.
His steps were slow at first. Then it became faster. Then he slowed down again.
Shuuji did not know how long he walked. Minutes? Hours? It didn't matter anymore.
All he knew was that at some point, the busy streets became quiet, the loud city noise faded and the smell of polluted air was replaced by the scent of water.
When Shuuji finally lifted his head and realized he was standing on an old bridge. A huge lake stretched out like a mirror under it. The lake was slowly turning gold under the sun.
Shuuji stared at it.
At first, he felt nothing. He felt empty and had the same hollow silence that lived inside him for years. But then, several tiny thoughts began to form in his head.
'What does that lake feel like?'
'It was probably cold but still comforting.'
'Maybe it was peaceful.'
'Maybe quiet.'
Quiet.
It was a word that Shuuji had always thought he wanted.
Soon, he walked toward the railing and rested his hands on the cold metal. The wind brushed against his clothes and pale skin. The sunset painted everything in soft yellow and orange.
It was a beautiful place.
A place where no one screamed at him. Where no one could hurt him. Where no one could ordered him around. Where no one would tell him Mariko was gone.
Shuuji lowered his gaze to the water again.
"Would it hurt me if I fall?" Shuuji asked himself. "Would it be painful if I drown? Or..."
'Or would it feel like resting?'
Shuuji did not know. He only knew that he was tired. Very, very tired.
He was tired of running. He was tired of searching. He was tired of breathing when there was no reason left. He tired of living.
Shuuji took a step closer to the edge. The bridge was completely empty. It was just him and the quiet lake under the bridge.
He slowly placed one foot on the lower rail. His hand tightened on the metal. He was not scared. And strangely, Shuuji felt calm.
Maybe because there was nothing left to fear. Maybe it's time. Maybe going into the water is not a bad thing at all. Maybe it would feel like going home.
Shuuji leaned forward just a little. His pulse did not quicken. His heart did not panic. He was completely calm.
Shuuji looked around. No one was walking on this bridge. No one passed by this place at this hour. He was alone in every meaning of the word.
So he jumped.
The cold water hit him like a wall. It filled his ears and wrapped around his skin before it pulled him down. For a moment, his whole body froze from shock.
But then, he relaxed.
It was strange. Shuuji had always hated the cold. But now, the cold water felt almost gentle as if it was holding him instead of hurting him.
His eyes slowly closed as he sank deeper.
'This is fine.' Shuuji thought. 'This is enough for me.'
But soon, the comforting cold changed. His chest tightened, his lungs burned and every second felt sharper and heavier. His body begged him to swim up and to live.
Shuuji ignored it. He simply let the pain fill him. He wanted the darkness to swallow him.
And then everything went dark.
-//-//-
Shuuji did not know how long he was unconscious. The next thing he felt was a dull ache in his chest and a scratchy sheet under his fingers.
When he opened his eyes, he was in a clinic.
But it did not really look like a proper clinic. The walls were old, the ceiling had cracks and the room smelled faintly of alcohol. It felt sketchy. It was like a place that suspicious people would go when they couldn't get to a real hospital.
But there were real medical machines and equipments beside his bed. So maybe this place wasn't bad after all.
Soon, Shuuji stared blankly at the ceiling. He just stayed still. He was alive. Again.
'A failure. Even in dying.' he thought.
Shuuji let out a small breath. It was not even a sigh. It was just an air leaving him without any purpose.
Soon, the door opened with a soft click before a man in a white coat stepped in. He was tall and his hair was a bit long and messy. His smile widened exaggeratedly when he saw Shuuji awake.
"Oh good. You're finally awake." the doctor cheerfully said as if he was greeting an old friend.
Shuuji said nothing. He just watched him.
"A civilian saw you falling from the bridge and pulled you out. Lucky you." the doctor continued without being asked.
Shuuji did not react.
"Although you've been unconscious for three days. Hah..." the doctor added while checking the machines beside the bed. "Your body is extremely weak. Malnutrition. Exhaustion. You are such a mess."
Still, Shuuji did not speak.
The doctor did not seem bothered by it. He simply hummed while checking Shuuji's pulse and shining a small light into his eyes. Shuuji felt nothing. He did not feel any embarrassment, fear or gratitude.
But deep inside, he was mocking himself.
"I was unconscious for three days? Because my body was too weak to die normally? Hah.'
He felt pathetic. Even death did not want him.
The doctor scribbled something on a clipboard before turning back to him.
"What's your name?" he asked with that same friendly smile.
Shuuji stared at him silently. After a moment, the man blinked and laughed softly.
"Ah, sorry. I should introduce myself first, right? I'm Rintarou Mori. But you can call me Doctor Mori. And don't worry, I'm not a bad doctor."
The doctor said it so casually it almost sounded like a joke. But Shuuji still did not smile.
"Now then." Mori continued. "Can you tell me your name?"
This time, Shuuji's eyes moved.
'A name, huh...'
He could not say his name. He could not say his name is Tsushima Shuuji. The Port Mafia was still looking for him. But more than that, he felt that "Tsushima Shuuji" was already dead the moment he jumped.
If he lived now, it would not be as the same person.
After a long moment, he finally spoke. His voice was hoarse and barely above a whisper.
"...Dazai."
Mori paused and looked at him.
"Hmm?" he hummed.
He needed a full name. A full name that sounded real. Then, he wet his lips and forced the words out.
"...Dazai Osamu."
Doctor Mori blinked once. Then hummed again as if noting something interesting.
"I see." he said with a smile. "Well then, Dazai Osamu, welcome back to the living world."