Miss Tsushima

The cool white mist, the crystal light red stained from the fingers.

The greenery was overcast, and the golden sunlight climbed up the window lattice, scattered loosely on the paper, and shattered into pieces of dazzling halos.

Tsushima Hiiragi was sitting at the desk, writing fluently on the paper, the nib of the pen rubbed against the manuscript paper to make a rustling sound.She devoted herself to writing, as if no one was there.

"Miss Tsushima~"

"Miss Tsushima~"

A lazy voice of calling kept coming from behind his ears, Tsushima Hiiragi stopped writing helplessly, and turned his head.

It was Dazai Osamu who kept making noises and harassing her. He seemed to use Tsushima Hiiragi's bungalow as a temporary base, and would run here whenever he had time.

Osamu Dazai would sometimes open the door directly and enter, and when he got home, he would be huddled on the sofa playing a game console, relaxing as if this was his home, and sometimes he would wait outside the door, even if it was raining heavily outside .

The rain soaked his hair and clothes, and when he was sitting tremblingly on the steps outside the door with his knees hugged, like a pitiful cat, Tsushima Hiiragi sighed, and opened the door to let him in.

It's not that I didn't think about talking about him, but the last thing I said was.

"Come in directly next time, don't wait outside the door."

She went in first, leading the poor, wet, rain-soaked feral cat through the door.

Saying that he has nothing, Mao Ke has such a temperament, she understands it best, doesn't she?After all, he is Osamu Dazai.

Who else in the world knows Dazai Osamu better than Tsushima Hiiragi?

Perhaps even he himself did not understand him like Tsushima Hiiragi.

How sad, Tsushima Hiiragi put the pen to his lips and smiled with his chin propped.

Such an existence, with the same origin as her, is a delusion.

She couldn't help but look like Osamu Dazai full of affection.

"Don't drip watermelon juice on the bed."

Tsushima Hiiragi looked at it, couldn't help frowning, and raised his voice.

Not to mention, even if she knew Dazai better, she still couldn't accept some of Dazai's excessive behavior.

I even began to try to recall, did the life of "Osamu Dazai" have such a random "informality"?

Because it is already summer, the air is hot and humid, she does not close the window, and the futon is spread on the tatami, and a snow-white mosquito net has been hung on the top of the quilt, and there are layers of gauze nets. A hook opens one side.

Osamu Dazai also took off his heavy black coat, only wearing a white shirt, loosely unbuttoned, his thin collarbone looming under the bandages.

As early as spring, Osamu Dazai helped her carry the stove to the first floor, where a wooden table with low legs was supported, and Osamu Dazai sat cross-legged on the mattress, eating watermelon with his arms propped up.

The watermelon was sent by the editor. It has been soaked in well water and exudes cool air. It is the best summer product to cool off the heat.

Tsushima Hiiragi wanted to cut it open, but Osamu Dazai insisted on smashing it open with a baseball bat, saying that he had seen it on TV, so he felt like summer, forget it, let him do it, anyway, he doesn’t eat it , Tsushima Hiiragi watched him wash the baseball bat with great interest.

The watermelon was smashed open in the courtyard, and the reddish watermelon juice splashed on Dazai Osamu's face, he twisted his body in high spirits, smiling brightly.

"Miss Tsushima, how about the stick I swung just now?" Dazai Osamu put his hand on his mouth and said loudly.

Summer, sunshine, watermelon, white shirt.

Tsushima Hiiragi also became interested, imitating him, put his hand on his mouth, and said loudly,

"That's right, home run, you can enter Koshien!"

Osamu Dazai picked up the smashed melon and dipped it with his hand.

"It's so sweet."

For him to move the watermelon to the second floor and sit on her bed to eat the watermelon, Tsushima Hiiragi always pretended to turn a blind eye to this point, forget it if he didn't see it, but he didn't expect him to make noise persistently.

"Miss Tsushima~"

You obviously told Osamu Dazai not to disturb her when she was writing, right?Tsushima Hiiragi squeezed the bridge of his nose, and turned his head helplessly.

"What are you doing?"

"If you don't have a good reason why you bother me, I'll kick you out."

Osamu Dazai blinked his eyes, with an innocent expression, "Whoever is Miss Tsushima, you ignore me."

He was still holding a piece of watermelon in his hand, "Talk to me, talk to me~ No one talks to me, I'm about to die of loneliness."

Seeing that the watermelon juice was about to drip onto the bed, Tsushima Hiiragi squeezed the pen tightly, and the arc of his smile remained unchanged, "Isn't that just right?"

"Miss Tsushima, you are too ruthless!" Osamu Dazai complained loudly, and as he leaned forward, watermelon juice dripped down his wrists and wet his cuffs.

"Ah, it's not good, it's about to drip!"

Osamu Dazai immediately raised his hand above his forehead, and the light red liquid flowed and dripped along with the well-articulated knuckles, and dripped on his porcelain white chin, along the small chin, the skinny Adam's apple, and the thin collarbone , dripping all the way into the loose shirt collar.

There was a streak of red on his white bandage.

He blinked blankly, looked down at his collar in a daze, before realizing what was going on, another drop of watermelon juice dripped down and landed on the end of his long eyelashes, and he lowered his eyelashes as soon as he blinked, like A bright red tear mole.

Vibrant thick red.

Red, white, and black, the contrast is dazzling and eye-catching, but it is a pity that Tsushima Hiiragi is not a perverted Shotacon.

A trace of disgust floated up in her mind.

Osamu Dazai is indeed very wise and has insight into people's hearts, but he is always so lacking in these small things in life that people will doubt his IQ, or doubt whether he did it on purpose.

Although Tsushima Hiiragi was not the same as him at the time, and the original life was planned by his wife Michiko and taken care of by his lover Shizuko.

Not good at financial planning to spend all the money of his last lover, Fu Rong.

But even so, Tsushima Hiiragi looked at Dazai Osamu who had dyed his collar and collar red at this moment, and still felt a sense of disgust from the bottom of his heart.

At that time, I was much stronger than him...

Right?

Time is precious as life, and Tsushima Hiiragi, who doesn't want to continue wasting time on these small things, issued a ruthless order,

"Go to the first floor to eat!"

"Hey~" Osamu Dazai elongated his tone, staring at her without blinking, trying to soften her heart with wet eyes?

It's a pity that Tsushima Hiiragi's heart was as hard as iron, and he was unmoved.

Osamu Dazai carried his melon pitifully and went downstairs, turning his head every step of the way.

Finally able to write quietly, Tsushima Hiiragi breathed a sigh of relief, tidied up the manuscript paper on the desktop, opened the pen cap again, and straightened his posture.

"Meow--" "Y--"

There was another sound of chickens flying and dogs jumping downstairs. Before Tsushima Hiiragi had finished writing a word, a drop of ink from the pen tip fell on the paper, smudged, and Tsushima Hiiragi put the paper blankly. In a ball, throw it on the ground.

Calm down, stay normal...

Osamu Dazai doesn't like dogs, but he doesn't necessarily like animals much. At least, Miss Michiko at home, a raccoon cat who will act coquettishly and show her belly when she sees anyone, hates him very much.

As soon as he saw him, he grinned, frowned, and let out a low growl.

How did Osamu Dazai manage to be so hated by people?

Tsushima Hiiragi listened to the fights and noises coming from downstairs, as if the robbers had entered the house, he couldn't help feeling tired and forced himself to concentrate on writing.

After writing for a while, she devoted herself wholeheartedly again. When she stopped writing, the sun had already set, and there was a red glow outside the window.

Hanging on the window, the summery blue glass scenery jingled.

"certainly not!!"

A child's cry came from downstairs. Could this voice be Natsume?

Tsushima Hiiragi put down his pen and went downstairs.

The first floor was as messed up as she expected, but one of the two "perpetrators" was missing. Ms. Michiko went somewhere, and Osamu Dazai was sitting on the medical bed with the skeleton.

Natsume Takashi stood at the entrance, wiping his tears with his hands, sobbing.

Tsushima Hiiragi frowned, and walked down the stairs slowly, "What's going on here?"

As soon as Natsume Takashi saw her, he held back his tears, his eyes were red and he lowered his head without saying a word. Tsushima Hiiragi turned his head to Dazai Osamu, "Dazai-kun, have you caused trouble again?"

Osamu Dazai was still smiling, sitting on the cot with his legs dangling.

Needless to say, I knew what this little devil must have said, which made a quiet and reticent child like Natsume Takashi cry.Tsushima Hiiragi sighed.

"Dazai-kun, why are you bullying children?"

Tsushima Hiiragi was in the field of Shura with two children, and she was quite tired. Why did she bother with the dispute between two and a half older children.

Tsushima Hiiragi said earnestly: "You are already 15 years old, you are an older child, stop playing childish temper." After she finished speaking, she couldn't help laughing.

Osamu Dazai is a child?But at the moment, it's almost like a child.

Willful play of temper.

Tsushima Hiiragi walked up to Natsume Takashi, squatted down and looked into his eyes, "I'm sorry, Takashi, no matter what he said, I apologize for him like you, can you forgive him?"

Natsume Takashi nodded, paused, and said slowly: "When I entered the door, Ms. Michiko ran out through the crack of the door..."

Then Osamu Dazai said something to him, and the two quarreled, before they could catch the escaped cat.

Tsushima Hiiragi rubbed his hair, "Then, let's go out and look for it."

She stood up, took Natsume Takashi's hand, and opened the door. The afterglow of the setting sun had gradually faded, and the ground was half sunny and half shadowed.

She turned her head, Dazai Osamu was still sitting there, staring at them with deep eyes.

The motionless posture is almost like a sculpture.

Tsushima Hiiragi thought for a while, then walked up to him, bent down, and whispered in his ear: "Go upstairs."

"Go take a shower and change clothes." Tsushima Hiiragi nodded her forehead, "If I come back too late, you can sleep in my bed."

Osamu Dazai looked up into her eyes and made a face suddenly.

He jumped off the ground and walked up to the second floor lightly, without making a sound, as lightly as a cat.

Tsushima Hiiragi and Natsume Takashi searched for a long time in the park and on the long street, but they still couldn't find the cat. Seeing that it was completely dark, Tsushima Hiiragi asked Natsume to go home first. Dally go home first.

Tsushima Hiiragi searched alone until the stars hung high, and finally found Michiko's shadow in a park.

"Meow~meow~" she cried softly, a figure squatted beside her, carefully touching her back, and the cat purred happily.

Tsushima Hiiragi stopped a few steps away, looking at this man by the moonlight, with ocher red slightly curly hair, and cobalt blue eyes that shone brightly in the night light.

He stroked Michiko's back tenderly, turned his head when he heard the voice, his eyes were red and he looked dazed.

Tsushima Hiiragi stared at him,

"you've been drinking?"

The air is filled with the aroma of wine.