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“It’s not like that! I’m just genuinely—”

“Ah-ha-ha-ha! I’m kidding! Miss Sasaki, you’ll be safe at Kunikida’s place. He doesn’t have the courage to— Ahem… He is a man of ideals and virtue. Would you like to see his notebook? You should read the page about his ideal woman. It’s amazing.”

Dazai hands Miss Sasaki a notebook. Taken aback, I pat my pockets, but it’s nowhere to be found.

“Dazai! When did you steal that from me?!”

“Here, it’s this page.”

He opens my notebook and points.

“Oh my… Are you sure this is okay?”

“You’re curious, right?”

“Well…in all honesty…yes, I suppose I am slightly curious.”

Miss Sasaki reads the notebook with a bashful smile before slowly turning pale.

“Huh? What does that…? Oh, I see. But this is…”

My ideal woman: a voluminous work consisting of eight pages, fifteen topics, and fifty-eight items.

“Huh?! …Oh, so that means… Hmm… Ohhh…”

I remember what Dazai said: “Never show this to a woman. It’d really turn them off.” When Miss Sasaki lifts her head after reading, her expression is void of any and all joy. The only thing on her face is a chilling, lifeless smile, not unlike a statue’s.

“Detective Kunikida.”

“Yes…?”

“People like this don’t exist.”

Someone bring me a stiff drink.

It’s located in the nation’s capital, Tokyo, the heart of this country where the political and economic central functions intersect.

Foreigners of all races and creeds go in and out of this building—the United States Embassy, the largest foreign territory in Japan. Despite it being the afternoon, the people in the waiting room for general visitors are quietly whiling away the minutes and hours until their turn. They keep silent as if anticipating a judge’s decision, staring off into space as if looking at something only they can see.

A live Major League Baseball game plays on the flat-screen TV installed on the wall, while a middle-aged Caucasian male wearing a black cap lazily criticizes his favorite team for allowing the other to score a run.

I look at Dazai at my side. He’s smiling gleefully. He must be really looking forward to the mission. This is no laughing matter, though.

“Everything ready to go, Kunikida?”

“My stomach already hurts thinking about it. Please don’t mess this up. We could be tried under international law if we aren’t careful.”

“International outlaws… Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it? All right, well, here goes nothing!”

“Hey…!”

Stricken with panic, I try to stop him, but he’s already heading over to the information desk. Dazai is wearing a raggedy, patched-up undershirt while I’m dressed in a high-end navy business suit and tie. He stands in front of the embassy worker’s desk and obnoxiously opens his big mouth.

“Hey, you! How much longer do I hafta wait?! I’ve been here for siiix whooole hooours!”

Everybody in the vicinity turns around and stares. The Japanese lady working reception blinks in astonishment.

“I don’t wanna wait anymore! I can’t…! I just can’t take it! Lemme talk to your boss right now!”


Tags: Osamu Dazai Bungo Stray Dogs Thriller