As a background board, I want to pursue Dazai

The author has something to say:

Ordinary people + black households + body wear + penniless wage earners = starting from hell (text modified to match jj)

I’ve seen too many characters with super strong protagonists, so let’s look at one with super ordinary protagonists.

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Because some people will ask "Isn't the hero of Wenye Dun Dun" when they see the title of the article, I will answer it uniformly.

The protagonist here refers to the opposite of the background board passer-by, not the meaning that the other party is the protagonist in Wenye...

In Wuyishi's world, she felt that she was just a supporting role in other people's stories and could not be the protagonist.

Mr. Dazai is a shining hero in the eyes of Mu Yishi, and Wu Yishi thinks that he is just a background board.

"...Are you sure you want to come in?"

Opening the door of the Internet cafe room, a cramped square space came into view. I opened the partition curtain that I bought from a [-]-yen store and let the tall young man walk in from underneath.

The young man was rather thin, and the sand-colored windbreaker didn't look bulky on his body, but made his figure straight.But I still feel that for his height, the height and size of the Internet cafe private room are too wronged, not to mention the fact that he and I have to enter now, which makes people feel that the space is airtight.

"It's okay with me. But you, miss, just let me go to your private space, is it okay?"

The young man with iris eyes spoke lightly, and put the question in my hands again in a good voice.

"Internet cafes can be regarded as public spaces... There is no privacy at all." I told the truth frankly, and then sat down a little closer inside, trying to leave more space for him—after all, he looks like he has short legs Very long look.

He sat down first, then took out a small notepad from his pocket, picked up a pen and asked: "Miss, can you tell me your name?"

"No Yishi, Inai no Yishi."

I touched my pocket and remembered that the young man might not smoke, so I simply stopped and waited for his next words.

After hearing my name, he also gave the reaction that most people would: "...that's really a strange name, is it meaningless?"

"Yes."

After all, that's what I thought too, so I gave myself such a self-deprecating name.

The pronunciation of Inai is the same as "not in", while Wuyishi is the same as "meaningless".

That is to say, I am an absent and meaningless person.

"I thought it was a pseudonym." He said softly, "I am Dazai."

"Huh? You don't know your name is Osamu Dazai, do you?"

I put the lighter aside, heard the young man's remarks, remembered the name of the writer I knew, and said naturally, "That's more like a pseudonym."

"Hmm..." His gentle face told me that he might not want to talk about this topic, "Let's just treat it as a pseudonym. Then Miss Wu Yishi, can we get to the point next?"

"Okay, that's right—do you want something to drink? Although there is only beer." I took out the beer I bought just now from the canvas bag. For me who makes a living by working part-time, there is nothing more satisfying than "affordable" and "promotional".

I handed him a can and opened one myself.The young man named Dazai didn't do anything, but watched me patiently take a sip of beer before he brought the topic back on track.

"Excuse me, Miss Wu Yishi, did you hear any noise from the private room next door three nights ago?"

The young man in front of him seemed to be a member of a well-known detective agency. I don't pay attention to current affairs, so that's all I know about him.He came to me because he wanted to investigate the disappearance of a client who lived in the private room next to me.

"Yes, rustling, it seems to be the sound of plastic bags, or it may be the sound of clothes."

"The sound of a plastic bag is very different from that of clothes," he said.

I quickly said, "Maybe I got it wrong."

But living in an Internet cafe doesn't mean there is any friendship between us, and we don't live in the same residential area, and we have to maintain a superficial neighborhood relationship.

He didn't take my word for it, but didn't pursue it further, and moved on to the next question: "When was the last time you saw him?"

"It was three days ago, at about nine o'clock in the evening, I just came back from outside and saw him tying his shoes."

"He's going out?"

"probably."

"Do you know who he is going to see?"

I paused: "... I can't possibly know about this kind of thing."

"Just asking politely, don't be nervous."

"I'm not nervous."

"So, what was Miss Wuyishi doing that night?"

"Me? I'm just staying in my private room as usual..."

"Well, can anyone prove it?"

"...Isn't there monitoring?"

The young man closed the notepad in his hand and stated the facts: "The surveillance was broken that night, and I couldn't find any images."

I said dryly: "That's true, what a coincidence. If I want to prove it... I was updating my blog that night. Because I wrote it online, there will be historical records in the background. Can it be regarded as evidence?"

Dazai nodded neither humble nor overbearing: "Can you let me take a look? I will contact the technical staff to check the background later."

Although I know that if I use a blog to prove myself, the other party will make such a request, but it is somewhat shameful to open my blog in front of others, but I know that I am a criminal and do not cooperate with the other party. If I am sent to the police for inspection, more against me.So I obediently logged into my account and opened an article that was updated that day.

Sure enough, the young man smiled and asked me, "Can I have a look?"

"...Of course, it's a public blog anyway."

[The moment when ordinary people suddenly want to die. 】

[Title: Stains. 】

[That's a stain—I thought so.

At this time, I was holding the paper bag with some food in it. The apple at the top was very full, pressing heavily against the edge of the paper bag.I was on the subway, and my eyes were unconsciously attracted by a black thing on the ground, but no matter how I looked at it, I thought it was just a stain, but when the light and shadow changed, it seemed like some debris left by people, It may be card issuance, color film, etc...

Just when I was so absorbed in my thoughts, a voice of "excuse me" came from beside me.I was so focused on that stain right now that I didn't even pay attention to my surroundings. Of course, I was knocked over by the passengers who were busy getting off the bus. What's worse, the paper bag in my arms was also dumped because of this, and all the contents rolled fell out.

I quickly shouted "Sorry" and then bent down, looking for the escaped apples in a panic.All the stains were forgotten by me. I knelt on the ground looking for my lost property, but felt that the people around me were all looking at me.

It felt like someone had put a piece of sandpaper on the back, rough and thorny.But when I took the opportunity to look up several times, I found that everyone was just looking at the phone or out the window.

Vaguely, I seemed to hear someone whispering "clumsy" behind my back.No, it could have said something like "that's funny" or "like a fool".

Because of the blow I couldn't figure out the source of, my arms were three points heavy, as if someone had tied a weight to it.What's even more frightening is that a chill like a cold wind passing through the country came from between my fingers touching the ground.

I was even more at a loss, so I repeated words such as "I'm sorry" and "I have caused trouble to everyone".

At this time, the catastrophe that made my heart tighten even more happened.

My apple rolled and fell to one of the women's feet. I stretched out my hand, but my center of gravity was unstable due to the sudden jolt of the tram, and I accidentally touched the woman's calf.

I quickly shouted "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry." Then I buried my head to pack up the things I dropped.

At this moment, I heard the woman take a heavy breath.With just this sound, I felt that someone had gouged my skull with a hammer, and there was a buzzing sound.

"It's annoying."—she must have thought so.

Presumably this person must be thinking in his heart, "This is really a fool who can't even hold a bag", and is laughing at me, right?The unusually heavy breathing, which was different from usual, must have become extra weighty because it was loaded with this sentence.

Once I figured this out, I became even more flustered. I didn't know who I was talking to, and I kept yelling "I'm sorry, I'm sorry", "I'm so sorry", "I'm sorry for causing trouble" and so on to the ground.

Whenever I said that, I felt that the weight on my back was a little heavier, and the dazzling sight almost crushed me.

I want to die, I really want to die.

I should die with this pile of apples that are only giving me trouble.As long as I disappear from here, I won't suffer from this unbearable torment anymore.

But why do you all look at me like this?Why do you only blame me in your heart?

Is this my fault?

I just accidentally knocked the bag over.

No, not my fault.

It was the fault of the man who bumped into me - how could I have made such a fool of myself if he hadn't pushed me?But he was fine, so he got out of the car and fled.Then I complained about that nasty stain, how could I have ended up like this if it wasn't for looking at it?But that stain, yes, it is a stain, it must be that the train was not cleaned properly, and that is the fault of the train staff.In short, the reason why I made such a mistake, when traced back, must have a head.

The more I thought about it, the more sore I felt in my heart, as if I had been stabbed in and cut repeatedly by a sharp hard object, my nose was sore.

Stop kidding, am I going to cry?

What does it look like to shed tears in public, just for this kind of thing?

No, I'm going to get out of here - or I'll die.

The train stopped at the platform at this time, and I didn't even hear the name of the station, and I didn't remember picking up a few apples, holding the crumpled paper bag, hanging my head, and fled out of the train.After leaving the car door, I walked to the trash can and threw all the apples in my hand into it, and then I breathed a sigh of relief.

……

……

When I write this diary, it is already three days later.

I was a little surprised that I would have the idea of ​​wanting to die because of such a trivial matter.Nine out of ten people on the train didn't care what I was doing. At that time, everyone was busy trying to catch up on sleep and check the news on their mobile phones. They didn't even notice that the apple rolled down to their feet.

On the other hand, I was shocked: I was such an arrogant person!

How can I think that everyone is paying attention to me?It was ridiculous, and in hindsight it seemed sloppy and comical.I even maliciously speculated that others would be malicious to me for no reason, which is simply excessive self-awareness.

But at that time, the idea of ​​"wanting to die" occupied my mind like an unreasonable passer-by.

Accompanied by the thought of "wanting to die", this flashing shadow seemed to take root in my head, reminding me that it would come to me again at any time,

Except for me, it is also entrenched in the hearts of many ordinary people like me. 】

The young man sat cross-legged in the main seat, and I moved myself to the side, sipping beer in small sips. The article was not long, and he quickly finished reading it.In the process of waiting, I felt like I was sitting on pins and needles. On the one hand, the boring articles I wrote on the Internet channel were seen by people I met in life, and on the other hand, because when he read my articles with full attention, I carefully to engrave his appearance in his mind.

When people see beautiful things, they want to look more often, and I can't escape this iron law.Not to mention being alone with a member of the opposite sex in such a narrow space where your legs almost touch your legs, I feel something throbbing in my throat.

In all fairness, this young man with the same name as a certain literary figure I know is indeed the most beautiful opposite sex I have ever seen since I came to this world.

It has been a month since I came to this strange Japan. I don’t know why I suddenly understand Japanese, but I am a penniless black household, and I have no skills. I can only live on the meager salary of serving dishes. I want to rent a house, but I can’t afford it. The sky-high price of the advance payment, not to mention the fact that it is impossible for someone to guarantee it for me, so apart from the bench in the park, I can only choose to live in an Internet cafe.

Perhaps it was my punishment—to die on the train tracks, to cause trouble to others, even though I did not do it myself.So let me continue my life from a more hellish start.

"Miss Wuyishi?"

The young man seemed to have finished reading my blog. To be honest, I was very afraid that he would comment on the meaningless and moaning words I wrote. Fortunately, he didn't mention this matter at all, and returned the topic to the case.

"Thank you very much for your cooperation. That's all for today. If you have any new discoveries, you can contact this number." He tore off a small note from the notebook and handed it to me.

I stammered and said, "Okay."

He said "Contact this number" instead of "Contact me"...proves that the owner of the phone number is not him, and it seems that I can't take the opportunity to save his contact information.

On the one hand, I am relieved that I don’t have to be involved with a powerful civil organization like the detective agency. On the other hand, I really want to get his contact information. I think this is some kind of inferiority of me as a human being. It started to be weird again, stemming from a simple attraction between the two sexes.

He straightened his windbreaker jacket, and I quickly stood up and said goodbye to him.

Before he left, he pointed to my backpack, half of the half-price bento package was exposed.

"Sorry, but before I came, you were going to have dinner, right?"

"No..." I said, "Cooperating with investigations and maintaining law and order is also a citizen's job."

He didn't seem to have expected my answer to be so rigid.

After a two-second pause, he pushed open the door of the compartment with one hand, and said, "Miss Wu Yishi, it's best not to drink beer on an empty stomach, it will burden the stomach."

"……thanks."

After he left, I sat down silently.

After a few more seconds, I realized that I couldn't stop crying because of the care given by a stranger I met for the first time.