“they can't get worse than they already are.“

“do you know how to pick a lock?“, dazai asked, bent over and watched you twist and turn the pin in the lock of the shop's back door.

“ 'course i do,“ you replied and gave him a quick smile over your shoulder. “i mean, that was part of my training at the fbi.“

the brunette's mouth shaping into an 'o', he swallowed thickly and stuttered, “wh- wha- what? really?“

you snorted, stifling a laugh with such effort that your entire body trembled, and nudged him with your elbow. “calm down,“ you managed to say, “it was just a joke, though i did work with the government to some point.“

“what was your job, then?“

the satisfying sound of the lock clicking was accompanied by a joyous sigh and the words, “i've been a journalist.“

you opened the creaking door to the shop, a stream of light cutting through the air, and watched the dust particles glittering like thousands of galaxies, like someone had cut a piece out of the firmament and spread it out in a single room.

you ventured further, dazai closing the entrance behind you two, and brushed over the wooden counter in front of you, staring at the piles and boxes and shelves full of volumes scattered in the shop.

“it's weird, isn't it?“

“what is?“, the brunette responded, picking up an old, yellowed copy of shakespeare's romeo & juliet, and flipped through the thin pages.

(if he was honest with himself - which rarely occurs, doesn't it? -, that was how he'd really love to abdicate; hand in hand with his lover, the poison quietly lowering them into Death's embrace, whisking them away to somewhere merciful.)

you hummed, “how it seems like the owners practically fled this store, as if something haunting happened here. just look at the state they left this place in; if i'd been in charge, i'd have taken everything with me and cleaned up a bit.“

“maybe the inventory will be donated, or it'll be bought up,“ he thought out loud, quite mesmerized by your changed tone of voice.

(like you didn't have any time left.)

you chuckled at his answer, and that chuckle turned into a loud, nervous laugh that had you shaking and trembling so much that he thought you'd fall over soon, because god, he's so so stupid so forgetful so imperfect and he's killing me inside he's killing killing KILLING EVERYONE I USED TO -

“oh, no, you're very wrong,“ you whispered at last, propped your elbows up on the table, and gazed out into the impending night sky. “nothing like that happened here, dazai.“

“then what did?“, he prodded you, sickeningly intrigued in whatever atrocity had been unleashed in these walls.

that was just another part of being human, right? to have this dark, looming desire writhing inside one's innocent, yet twisted heart to look, to scream into the never ending void of mortal cruelty.

what if the void screams back?

you breathed in deeply, one step away of lifting the veil off one of your greatest fears consuming your mind.

“there's been a murder,“ you said.