Dear Ane-san.
Chuuya Nakahara isn’t the type of person to exchange letters. To be truly honest, he hadn’t even had the chance properly sit down and actually learn how to write and read past the necessities until he was 15.
( Until his life was thrown upside down, until he was weak enough that the Sheep decried him, until he was dragged into the seedy underworld of the Port Mafia. )
It’s only fitting, then, that his first proper letter is written to the woman who taught him how.
I have no fucking idea where I am.
That’s a hell of a way to start a letter, right? You’d probably tell me off, for being so informal. I can imagine the chiding now! You know, you were the first adult I’d met who did that. Scolded me. Cared enough to do it, to not get scared off.
The first adult I relied on, treated me like a person and not a nuisance. Sounds fucked up, right?
Something in Chuuya roils, thinks that looks wrong. Wasn’t there someone else? But there’s a block in his memories, and he shrugs it off. The name in his treasured hat, Rimbaud, means nothing to him. Even though that had been the first thing he’d asked Kouyou to teach him to read.
That’s why I figured... If I could only tell one person where I was, what I was doing, it’d be you. Not that I expect you’ll actually get this letter.
They called it ‘Koi’, said it was some kind of experiment. Testing human bonds, or some shit. Honestly, it’s over my fucking head. Dazai might be able to sort it out, but I doubt he’d tell me even if he did. Bastard.
Dazai’s here too, by the way. I thought I’d finally be free of him, but nope! Stuck with the fucker. Sort of a relief, I suppose. Like ripping a bandage off of a wound. If I know he’s here, he can’t get the jump on me... I write, wishfully.
Not just Dazai, but Sakunosuke and Sakaguchi. Remember them? They were Dazai’s friends, back then. I guess just the name’s might not be enough to jog your memory.
Oda Sakunosuke, the mafia who didn’t kill, and Ango Sakaguchi, the traitor from the Ministry. Oda Sakunosuke, you know. The dead guy.
Yeah. That’s a thing as well. There’s a dead guy walking here, and he doesn’t remember being dead. Sakaguchi, on the other hand, says he doesn’t remember anything at all. Don’t know if I believe him or not.
Next, there’s a lot of lines crossed out! He’s not sure how to write the next part. What to say. How to say it.
...Kyouka, as well. There must be something to deal with this place and memories, because she doesn’t remember you.
Dazai says it’s a good thing.
She’s made some friends here. She smiles a lot more, too. Looks like a normal kid. That’s why I’m writing this, actually. Today was her Birthday.
I didn’t know what to get her, so I just got her... everything, I guess. I didn’t have the guts to give it to her myself, so I left it outside her door. You know, you’d be really pleased. There was a whole mountain of gifts.
I imagine they were full of things a kid likes. Things a kid deserves.
I also... gave her a kimono. I drew yours out from memory, and got a tailor to make it to fit her. It’s probably a shitty copy, because I draw like chicken shit, but...
I dunno. I wanted her to have something of you. I wanted you to have something of her. That sounds stupid. It is. Whatever.
I just wanted to let you know. That... She’s happy. That I’ll look out for her. That I think she finally has a chance to live like a normal girl.
This has gotten way too long. I promised Hawks I’d meet up with him later, so I should finish up...
Chuuya
PS: You’d fucking laugh. Hawks, by the way, used to be a pro hero. Ironic choice for me, from the mafia, right? But... Well, he’s not going to read this, so it’s fine. No one’s going to read this. He was my first friend here. I think you’d like him. He’s a good guy.
Even someone like me can’t resist the light, I guess, even if it’ll end up burning me.
