[Wen Ye] Do caged birds dream of butterflies?

nodded.

"That's it~~then there is no way~~" Osamu Dazai shrugged, jumped to his desk briskly, pulled up a swivel chair and sat down, exerted force on his feet, and slid to the window.

The blue sky outside the window was like washing, soft clouds floated in the sky, and the bright sunlight poured down, coating the floating clouds of various shapes with a bright golden edge.

On the street outside the detective agency, the leaves of the street trees are turning from green to yellow.

"Hey, Dazai! Don't be lazy! Work hard!"

"That's too much~ Kunikida-kun~ I'm working right now~"

"Huh? You're obviously looking at the scenery!"

"No, I'm observing humans."

"What the hell?!"

The black-haired young man arched his back with a smile on his face, resting his left hand on the window sill, resting his chin on the back of his hand.With his right hand, he took out a delicate hair clip from his pocket, which was in the shape of a butterfly with wings spread.

Behind him came the roar of his partner: "Hey! Dazai!"—hmmm, inaudible—chatting with other members.

"Mr. Ranpo hasn't come back yet?"

"...Today, Naomi loves my brother too much!"

"Speaking of which, Mr. Oda..."

"Well, it's about this time again..."

It seemed that some serious topic was mentioned, and the speaker suddenly fell silent.

Osamu Dazai knew what they were talking about, but he just smiled, raised his hairpin, and carefully admired the sun with his head sideways.

The silver hook line depicts the pattern of the wings in detail. From the edge of the wing to the center, it is filled with a gradient color enamel from pink to pink. The center of the body is inlaid with transparent rhinestones, and the sun shines on it. Tiny man-made particles are shining.

His smile was light, and the shadows of clouds fell in his iris-colored eyes, layer upon layer like the cold shadows in a lake.This world is still as suffocating as ever, only the existence of Oda Sakunosuke keeps him from being completely desperate.

He was beginning to miss his little black-winged bird.I miss her silky black hair, snowy skin, bright rose-like soft lips, and the hazy and ambiguous body fragrance lingering around her neck.

He didn't tell anyone about Xiao Fu Jiang's little secrets, because that would be too boring—ah, no, let's call her January.

Little January, don't make me wait too long.he thinks.It is also very troublesome to try hard every time so that you don't really die.

***

The young man's white fingertips seem to be wrapped with an invisible golden chain, and the other end is tied to the wing of a black-feathered bird.

——So, who locked whom?

***

Will the caged bird dream of a butterfly tonight?

***

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