12 Twelve

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Dazai Osamu shook the photograph in his hand, a gentle smile resting on his handsome, refined face. It seemed he was merely offering a well-meaning reminder; he had not noticed anything unusual about Tomie in the picture.

Tomie stared at the photograph, his dark eyes revealing nothing.

Dazai studied his expression. He knew that the moment he produced the photograph, he would anger the young man before him.

Whether it was the boy in the photograph, whose appearance was identical to his own, or the terrifyingly deformed face at the back of the boy’s head—

These were all Tsujimigi Tomie’s secrets.

But who was Dazai Osamu? The instant he decided to lay everything bare, he had already prepared for what would follow.

“How surprising, Mr. Dazai. I never imagined that someone like you would make a habit of taking clandestine photographs of people.”

Tsujimigi Tomie lifted his lips in an amused smile. His alluring, upturned eyes were at once ambiguous and dangerous, while the beauty mark at the corner of his eye seemed almost magical, drawing the gaze irresistibly toward it.

His slender, fair fingers brushed across his thin lips. The languid gesture was like a tiny hook, making it impossible to look away.

The young man took a step forward, leaned close to Dazai, and cheerfully took the photograph from his hand.

“I’m right here in front of you. Why take a picture of me without my knowledge?”

He examined the photograph, his eyes filled with disdain and criticism.

“It’s horribly unflattering. It didn’t capture even one ten-thousandth of my beauty.”

Dazai spread his hands in innocent surrender, subtly retreating a step to maintain his distance from the beautiful yet dangerous youth.

“I’m sorry. I’ve never studied professional photography, so the result was somewhat less than satisfactory.”

The young man’s gaze slowly drifted away from the photograph. A faint, indescribable flush tinged the corners of his eyes. Beautiful, fragile, exquisite—he possessed a natural allure that ensnared everyone around him.

“It’s all right, Mr. Dazai. If you’d like me to model for you next time, I certainly won’t object. If you want to take pictures, you may do so whenever you please. Just make sure I look more beautiful.”

Tomie reached out and slipped the photograph back into the pocket of Dazai’s trench coat. Then he abruptly moved close to him, his handsome face enlarging before Dazai’s eyes.

A pair of pupil-less, bloodshot eyes fixed themselves upon him.

“I hate people prying into my affairs, Mr. Dazai. I don’t want there to be a next time. You crossed the line.”

If Dazai wanted to do something, he should come after Tomie directly. But if he involved Soshiki Akira, Tomie would become furious.

Dazai’s expression stiffened slightly.

On Tomie’s fair, swanlike neck, the skin began to twitch and swell grotesquely. Muscles and blood vessels spasmed, and the vague outline of a human face emerged beneath the flesh.

“Oh, dear. This was only an accident. There’s no need to be so tense.”

Dazai laughed lightly as he backed away. The twisted, dark aura radiating from the boy reminded him of certain unpleasant things.

It was like his past...

The sensation made Dazai deeply uncomfortable. Apart from a handful of people, no one knew about his past anymore. After all these years, he had gradually emerged from that state.

Yet Tomie gave him the strange illusion that he had returned to those days.

As though he were still wearing that black trench coat.

But when Dazai’s gaze settled on Tsujimigi Tomie, the youth’s grotesque transformation vanished. He once again looked harmless and fragile, as though everything that had just happened had merely been Dazai’s imagination.

Tsujimigi Tomie toyed with a strand of hair. Standing beneath the sunlight, the young man was so pale that he seemed almost luminous. His delicate, beautiful features possessed the pure, holy innocence of an angel.

Only Dazai, standing before him, could smell the filthy, rotting darkness and violent desire beneath that sanctified facade.

“It’s all right. I forgive you, Mr. Dazai. And thank you very much for your detective agency’s help this time. You truly did me a great favor.”

As Dazai had hoped, Tsujimigi Tomie let the subject drop.

Tsujimigi Tomie left. No one knew where he went. He had appeared with eerie suddenness and vanished just as mysteriously, but the effects of his presence did not disappear with him.

With Dazai’s help, Nakajima Atsushi managed to free himself from Tomie’s influence. Even so, he had grown noticeably thinner. All the weight he had painstakingly put on after joining the agency was gone.

His entire demeanor was listless. If not for the fact that every examination had come back normal, Yosano had seriously considered sending Nakajima to the hospital for proper rest and recuperation.

The others were hardly in better shape. During the several days Tsujimigi Tomie remained, everyone was kept on edge. Edogawa Ranpo had even forcibly sent Miyazawa and the Tanizaki siblings away from the agency.

Aside from the few people who had encountered Tomie at the beginning, everyone else had been sent away.

The power Tomie possessed was far too strange. Until they had a definite means of countering it, Edogawa Ranpo did not dare gamble.

After hearing what Dazai and Tsujimigi Tomie had discussed, Edogawa Ranpo gave Dazai a thumbs-up. One had to admit, the former Port Mafia executive truly had the nerve to think of something like that—and the nerve to act on it.

On the surface, Dazai appeared to have fallen into a disadvantage during his confrontation with Tomie. In truth, however, Dazai was the one who had won.

Not only had he confirmed that Tsujimigi Tomie possessed the supernatural ability known as Doppelganger, but he had also found a temporary means of restraining him.

Soshiki Akira—the boyfriend mentioned by Tsujimigi Tomie—was an entirely ordinary office worker, yet he was somehow unaffected by the strange power surrounding Tomie.

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Whether it was Tsujimigi Tomie’s temporary retreat or his threat against Dazai, both proved how important Soshiki Akira was to him. Tomie did not care whether someone photographed his double or captured the strange phenomena surrounding him.

What he cared about was that Dazai had discovered where Soshiki Akira lived.

“Dazai, are you really going?” Edogawa Ranpo shook his ramune. The glass marble struck the bottle’s neck with a pleasant clinking sound.

Dazai sat beside him in a completely undignified posture.

“We have no way to begin with Tomie himself, so naturally we have to look for another approach.”

Ranpo hesitated. He had thought of contacting the man named Soshiki Akira from the start, but his previous social experiences had made the catlike detective shrink back from the idea.

Now that Dazai had volunteered, Ranpo felt there was a very good chance of success. When Dazai deliberately approached someone, it was difficult for that person to refuse him.

His high intelligence and exceptional emotional acuity made it easy for Dazai to win other people’s trust.

Edogawa Ranpo fell silent. Satisfied, Dazai rose to his feet.

“I’m off.”

* * *

“Kobayashi, that lunch box looks amazing.”

At noon, Kobayashi had unusually declined Takitani Makoto’s invitation to eat out. Instead, she took a warm-looking lunch box from her bag.

Both Takitani Makoto and Soshiki Akira were surprised—and immediately curious about the person who had prepared it for Kobayashi.

Everyone knew that Kobayashi was single. Never mind having a boyfriend; as an overworked employee, she did not even have anyone she was flirting with.

After work, she usually went drinking with Takitani Makoto and Soshiki Akira, carrying the exhaustion and manic energy of a corporate slave in every inch of her being.

And now someone had actually prepared a lunch box especially for her!

Not only that, it was an extravagantly lavish one.

The moment Kobayashi opened the box, the rich aroma and abundance of food filled Takitani Makoto and Soshiki Akira with envy from the bottom of their hearts.

How wonderful it must be to eat a delicious homemade lunch...

“Ah, it was made by the maid I recently hired. She’s quite good at cooking.”

The corner of Kobayashi’s mouth twitched as she stared at the luxurious meal. Honestly, Tohru! She had told her to keep it simple!

Ever since a dragon maid had entered her home, her quality of life had visibly improved—once she had accepted the premise, at least.

After work, instead of returning home exhausted to a cold, empty apartment devoid of human warmth, she opened the door to a clean, cozy home filled with the fragrance of dinner.

Tohru kept the household in perfect order and had memorized all of Kobayashi’s habits within only a few days.

Aside from her insistence on making Kobayashi eat meat from her tail—which was absolutely unacceptable—Kobayashi felt that her current life was quite wonderful.

It was as though her house had become a home again, rather than merely a place to live.

Soshiki Akira glanced at the convenience-store lunch in his hand and silently grew sour with envy.

“That’s nice. Having someone take care of your daily life must put your mind at ease.”

Kobayashi shrugged helplessly and generously opened her lunch box.

“I couldn’t finish all of this by myself anyway. I’ll share some with you.”

“Really? I want a piece of chicken cutlet.”

Takitani Makoto immediately leaned over with great enthusiasm to beg for food. Kobayashi picked up a piece and placed it in his box.

“Here.”

“I’ll have a piece too.”

Soshiki Akira silently pushed his own lunch box closer. Kobayashi generously divided the chicken cutlets and tempura between them. If Tohru had not prepared so much, there might not have been enough to go around.

The three of them ate and chatted at the same time.

“So, Kobayashi, the reason you go straight home after work these days is because of that maid, huh?”

Takitani Makoto chewed contentedly on the chicken cutlet. It had been fried to perfection: the coating was crisp, while the meat inside was tender and juicy.

He could not help raising a thumb.

“This is delicious!”

Soshiki Akira nodded in agreement.

“She’s a master chef.”

Kobayashi laughed awkwardly, her expression tinged with helplessness. Of course Tohru was a master chef. She had not only modern kitchen appliances, but magic to assist her as well.

“You could say that. After all, dinner is already waiting at home.”

Before this, no one had ever waited for her to come home from work and eat with them.

“What about you, Soshiki? You’ve been vanishing the moment work ends lately too.”

Soshiki Akira looked at his lunch and felt even more miserable. Kobayashi went home to someone who cooked for her. When he went home, he not only had to face the “male ghost,” he also had to prepare dinner for him.

“Nothing much. A child is staying at my place temporarily, so I go home to cook for him.”

“Huh?”

Kobayashi and Takitani Makoto stared at Soshiki Akira in astonishment. He looked at them strangely.

“What are those expressions for? Is it really that strange?”

“No, it’s just that we never imagined you could cook, Soshiki.”

Kobayashi scratched her head, and Takitani Makoto nodded in agreement.

Soshiki Akira smiled helplessly.

“If I couldn’t cook, I’d have starved to death long ago.”

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“That’s true. I heard you studied abroad before, Soshiki. You must be quite capable of looking after yourself.”

“Yes. I learned most of it during those years.”

Soshiki Akira did not elaborate. Tsujimigi Tomie had not returned for several days, leaving him in a strange state—worried that something might have happened to him, yet relieved at the same time.

After finishing a day’s work, Soshiki Akira said goodbye to Takitani Makoto and Kobayashi and began walking home at an unhurried pace. He stopped outside a bar. After hesitating for a moment, he called home.

No one answered. Tomie must still not have returned.

In that case, he might as well have a drink.

When Soshiki Akira entered the bar, he found only a few customers inside. Yokohama had still not regained its peace.

Several small organizations had begun slaughtering one another for no apparent reason, and the violence had even spread to several long-established underground factions in Yokohama. By now, anyone with even the slightest connection to the gray world had become exceptionally cautious.

Rumors had spread that the Port Mafia had been alarmed as well and was preparing to intervene.

Once the Port Mafia became involved, it meant the situation had grown serious. Those small organizations were too busy trying to protect themselves to cause trouble at a time like this.

Soshiki Akira ordered a brandy and emptied his mind, savoring a brief moment of peace.

Someone suddenly took the seat beside him and ordered a whisky. As the newcomer swirled the glass, the ice struck the sides with a crisp sound that drew Soshiki Akira’s attention.

He glanced sideways.

It was a young man in a sand-colored trench coat. His hand was wrapped in bandages, perhaps because he had been injured.

The young man was very handsome. Unlike Tomie’s exquisite, almost unreal beauty, his was a kind of attractiveness that made people feel at ease while irresistibly tempting them to look twice.

“Is there something I can do for you, sir?”

Soshiki Akira only returned to himself upon hearing the young man’s questioning voice. He shifted his gaze away apologetically.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s fine.”

The young man shrugged indifferently. His long fingers tapped against the side of his glass, while his brown eyes settled upon Soshiki Akira.

“I come to this bar quite often. This is the first time I’ve seen you here.”

“Yes. It’s my first time. I usually drink at another izakaya with friends, but today I was alone, so I came here.”

Soshiki Akira rubbed the bridge of his nose and removed his glasses.

“Is something troubling you?”

Dazai’s voice was gentle. The bar’s soothing music and his deep, subtly coaxing tone left Soshiki Akira somewhat dazed.

Staring at the glass in his hand, Soshiki Akira spoke in a low voice.

“I have run into some things lately.”

After a moment’s hesitation, he added slowly:

“Things that have left me confused.”

“Would you like to tell me about them?”

Dazai tapped his glass once more.

Soshiki Akira hesitated. Aside from the strange aspects of Tomie himself, the matter was not entirely impossible to discuss.

He carefully edited and rearranged his account as he described what had happened after meeting Tomie. His expression was bewildered.

“I don’t understand what he wants.”

Dazai fell silent. Clever as he was, with the information already in his possession, he was able to reconstruct the truth in his mind even through Soshiki Akira’s alterations and omissions.

It was not merely that Soshiki Akira failed to understand.

Dazai did not understand either.

He truly could not figure out why Tsujimigi Tomie behaved that way.

Was he a hopeless romantic who had fallen in love at first sight?

Without changing expression, Dazai rubbed the bridge of his nose. This information was rather explosive.

“Perhaps he has his own difficulties,” Dazai said stiffly.

He genuinely had no idea how else to put it.

Soshiki Akira pondered for a full minute.

“You’re right. Perhaps there’s something wrong with his head.”

Dazai: ...?

Had he said that? When had he said that?

“I’m sorry for making you listen to all this.”

Soshiki Akira pressed his fingers to his temples. He felt slightly dizzy. Was brandy really that strong?

Dazai waved a hand dismissively.

“It’s all right. I’m glad I could help. Oh, by the way, my name is Dazai Osamu.”

“What? You’re Dazai Osamu?”

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