That night, Shibusawa Tatsuhiko settled into the guest quarters of the Tsushima estate.
After spending time with him at close range, Tsushima Shuuji was escorted by a maid to the head of the family's chambers.
During the day, he had carried himself like the young master of the house. But the moment his father's gaze fell upon him, he lowered his head. Hidden beneath the folds of his sleeves, where Tsushima Gen'emon couldn't see, his fingers trembled ever so slightly.
It was a conditioned reflex he couldn't control.
One born of fear.
As though completely unaware of it, Tsushima Gen'emon cloaked his sternness in the guise of gentleness.
"Shuuji, the maid told me you were quite unhappy today—that you claimed I'd sold you. Is that true?"
Shuuji answered quietly, "No. I accepted his instruction."
He knew the reception room they had used during the day had neither surveillance nor audio recording, since it had been prepared to receive guests.
The maid's testimony alone meant nothing.
"Come here."
Hearing his youngest son's youthful voice, Tsushima Gen'emon beckoned him closer. The unexpected turn of events had made him decide to treat the boy a little more kindly—for now. The less influence outsiders had over Shuuji, the better.
Shuuji stiffened.
Then, bracing one hand against the tatami, he slowly rose and approached his father, who reached out and drew him down to sit directly in front of him.
Tsushima Gen'emon gently stroked his fluffy brown hair. Shuuji had inherited both his hair and eye color from him, but his features took after his mother. Among all his children, he was by far the most beautiful.
"Shuuji, are you still angry with me?" Tsushima Gen'emon asked. "I was in the wrong for disciplining you so harshly last time. I shouldn't have been so severe. But you should also understand how difficult things are for your father."
Shuuji looked up and forced a stiff smile.
"I know. Father works very hard."
Tsushima Gen'emon nodded with satisfaction.
"The future of this family is destined to rest in your hands. You're more outstanding than your older brothers. They've all grown up, started families of their own, and moved out of the ancestral estate. You're the only one I've kept by my side, so that you can properly receive the family's education and one day inherit everything in your own right."
Tsushima Shuuji's smile grew even more innocent.
"Father loves me the most."
Tsushima Gen'emon rested a hand against his youngest son's cheek, feeling the faint tremor beneath his fingertips.
"I'm sorry to make you deal with this man. He's a member of the Shibusawa family. You know who they are, don't you? The Tsushima family simply isn't in a position to oppose them. For the sake of the family, I had no choice but to have you accompany Shibusawa Tatsuhiko. I've already looked into him. He really did write Black Magic Notebook, and he genuinely won the Seishun Award for his writing. Just endure him for one week."
Tsushima Shuuji tilted his head.
"So... he can do anything he wants to me for that entire week?"
Tsushima Gen'emon froze for the briefest moment before answering with practiced kindness.
"What nonsense are you talking about? You're my youngest son—the future heir of the Tsushima family! All you need to do is learn how to write from him. If anything troubles you, call for the maid. I'll handle it personally."
The sixty-year-old Tsushima Gen'emon grew more confident with every word. Leaning down, his figure cast a heavy shadow over the eleven-year-old boy, who still looked so unmistakably young.
"Be a good boy. Contribute to the family."
Shuuji answered blankly,
"...Okay."
"Go get some rest. Go to bed early. Tomorrow you'll begin reading."
As Tsushima Shuuji walked out of the room, he suddenly asked without turning around,
"I don't know what's considered normal... Why do you think he came looking for me to find inspiration for his writing?"
Tsushima Gen'emon was left speechless.
Because... innocent beauty itself was enough to inspire someone.
Receiving no answer, Tsushima Shuuji quietly walked away. His small silhouette wavered across the paper sliding door in the flickering candlelight before disappearing into the darkness alone.
Father...
Anyone normal would think he'd taken a fancy to me...
Back in his own bedroom, Tsushima Shuuji lay silently beneath the covers.
He heard the maid tiptoe into the room to tuck the blanket around him.
Without moving or opening his eyes, he experienced the family's meticulous care—and, with detached clarity, felt the maid's hand linger on his face of its own accord.
Disgusting.
Disgusting.
Disgusting.
"Shuuji-bocchama..."
I don't need your pity. Leave. Stay away from me. Don't touch my face.
"Your face has healed. The bruises are gone... Thank goodness."
The maid cherished the delicate features she had watched grow up since childhood. The instinct to admire beauty was only natural.
She thought of Shibusawa Tatsuhiko, who had insisted on tutoring Young Master Shuuji in writing that afternoon. The moment he had laid eyes on Shuuji, he had straightforwardly requested another meeting.
Her voice caught with emotion.
"Please be careful, young master. I'll stay by your side."
Having said her piece without regard for what he actually wanted, the maid reluctantly left.
The instant the room fell silent, Tsushima Shuuji bolted upright.
He scrubbed at his face furiously with the back of his hand until his skin stung. The disgust churning inside him made him feel sick, yet all he could do was retreat beneath the covers, offering not the slightest resistance.
This family had imprisoned him long ago, while he was still a child.
From his unpredictable father...
To the older brothers and sisters he only occasionally saw, who treated him with detached indifference...
To the servants who whispered about him behind his back...
He had lived his entire life inside a cage.
He wanted to escape.
But with each passing day, the desire to save himself grew weaker.
Even if someone like me escaped... what then?
He had learned to play all kinds of musical instruments.
He had received a proper academic education.
But no one had ever taught him how to survive in the outside world.
Everyone told him the same thing—
He depended on the family.
He could never leave it.
Pulling the blanket over himself, Tsushima Shuuji found a sliver of comfort in the darkness.
His thoughts drifted back to the last time his father had come home furious.
His face had been twisted with rage...
Yet his eyes had shone with delight.
Those clashing emotions had transformed him into something so monstrous—so terrifying that he didn't dare make his father angry again.
He hated the four-year-old version of himself who had begged to go outside.
If only he hadn't gone.
If only he hadn't played that prank.
Maybe things would never have turned out this way.
His father would have remained nothing more than the distant, indifferent man he had always been.
Meanwhile, in the guest room, Shibusawa Tatsuhiko wrote down everything that had happened that day, hoping to leave a favorable impression.
The character limit on text messages prevented him from expressing himself fully, and since he didn't have Asou Akiya's email address, he split his account into several messages and sent them one after another, hoping to earn his approval.
At the end, he signed the final message:
[Your futurestudent—Shibusawa Tatsuhiko.]
Not long after sending it, Shibusawa Tatsuhiko picked up his phone again and added one more message.
[Akiya-san, the Tsushima family's attitude toward Tsushima Shuuji is rather peculiar. They're hiding some interesting secrets. Would you prefer that I ignore them or should I intervene?]
Shibusawa Tatsuhiko studied the message for a few seconds, making sure there wasn't the slightest hint of a threat.
Akiya-san will definitely reply to this.
Just as planned.
Meanwhile, Asou Akiya and Randou were strolling through Tokyo's Ginza district, ostensibly searching for business opportunities—and enemies. Laughing as they chatted, they happened to pass a host club with a "Now Hiring" sign outside.
At that moment, Akiya's phone began vibrating incessantly in his trouser pocket.
It buzzed so relentlessly that his leg was starting to go numb.
Randou laughed.
"Who is it this time? You're such a busy man."
Akiya checked the messages and rubbed his forehead.
"Has this guy become addicted to writing stories or something? Did he really have to write everything in this much detail? It's like he's terrified I won't realize he's about to crash and burn... Hm?"
He immediately scrolled back to the beginning and reread the entire account of Shibusawa Tatsuhiko's collision encounter with Tsushima Shuuji.
Shibusawa Tatsuhiko had even found the leisure to describe the scenery of the Tsushima estate's gardens. As for Shuuji himself, after being told he would receive writing lessons, he'd shown only the slightest flicker of resistance before quickly agreeing.
This is unbelievably off.
That's Tsushima Shuuji?
The future Dazai Osamu—the man who would run away from home and manipulate people's hearts?
A child from a normal family would either excitedly bombard the newcomer with questions or throw a tantrum because they didn't want to study.
For reference, just look at Chuuya and Ranpo in his own household.
For a wealthy family's young master to react like this...
It could only be called timid.
You didn't even protest!
"That can't be right..."
Akiya murmured to himself.
"I've met Shuuji before. When he was four, he was a lively kid. Even if he pretended to agree, he would never compromise so completely."
If anything, this personality resembled Yozo Oba from No Longer Human.
Calling him Dazai Osamu at this point would be completely out of character.
Hearing him muttering to himself, Randou glanced away and tugged lightly at his sleeve.
"Akiya... let's move somewhere else."
Akiya was still trying to ask Shibusawa Tatsuhiko for more details.
"Just a second."
Randou awkwardly scuffed the ground with the tip of his shoe before forcing himself to speak.
"The way people are looking at us is strange. Akiya... you're not actually planning to take me in there, are you...?"
"Hm?"
Since when did Randou care about what strangers thought?
Then it clicked.
The two of them had been standing too close to the host club's recruitment sign. People strolling through Ginza that evening had already begun casting curious glances their way.
Judging by their appearances alone, the pair easily qualified to work at the most exclusive host club in Ginza.
Before long, someone from inside the club emerged, drawn by their looks.
"Are you two here to apply?"
"...No."
Akiya extinguished the man's blazing enthusiasm with a single word, grabbed Randou by the hand, and hurried away.
Only after they had put some distance between themselves and the club did Randou pat his chest in relief.
"You scared me for a second there, I thought we were actually going inside."
Akiya couldn't help laughing.
"As if I'd ever take you into a host club!"
Randou looked at him curiously.
"Why not?"
Akiya protested with undisguised possessiveness.
"Whether you're dressed or not, your body is for my eyes only! Nobody else gets to look!"
Randou replied as though it were the most natural thing in the world,
"I work with the Black Lizard. How come I've never seen you get jealous about that?"
Akiya bared his teeth in a grin.
"Because Hirotsu-san chases all the flies away for me."
Randou pouted.
"Fine."
Unfortunately, Akiya had always conducted himself with impeccable restraint. On top of that, he constantly proclaimed that he was deeply in love with his long-term French lover, so no one lacking common sense ever tried to cling to him.
The only thing left for him to be jealous of was Akiya's habit of always taking in cats!
Though... in a sense, that wasn't exactly a serious problem.
"Akiya, what were you looking at just now?" Randou followed this impossibly devoted Japanese man into a quiet corner.
Asou Akiya was a master of texting with one hand. Holding his flip phone in both hands, his right thumb flew across the keypad as he rapidly typed out a reply.
"I've noticed something strange. A child I met years ago... it seems someone raised him the wrong way."
Randou's eyelids drooped.
"Raised badly by some villain?"
"No," Akiya replied. "I think it was his own family."
Randou stared at him with dead eyes.
"Why do you insist on meddling in other people's family affairs?"
Without even looking up, Akiya stole a quick kiss from him before explaining,
"This child is different. He's rebellious, comes from an influential family, and ordinary people can't get anywhere near him. I had Shibusawa Tatsuhiko teach him creative writing precisely so he'd have a difficult nut to crack—and, more importantly, so he'd stop bothering us for a while."
Randou replied expressionlessly,
"And yet he's still bothering you through text messages."
Akiya scratched his cheek with his free hand while pressing the send button with his thumb.
"Which means... my plan has encountered an unexpected complication."
Dazai Osamu has gone off the rails!
...Wait, that didn't sound quite right, he's usually like that anyway.
Still, he really hadn't grown up the way he was supposed to!
Pocketing his phone, Akiya shamelessly asked,
"Randou, how about we take a trip to Aomori Prefecture?"
Randou answered by turning his back on him and walking away.
Akiya merely shrugged and let the subject drop.
Better to let their travel plans unfold naturally.
Meanwhile, the eagerly waiting Shibusawa Tatsuhiko finally received a reply.
[Shibusawa-kun, there's no need to investigate further. Simply focus on teaching this child. If possible, I'd like you to take a photograph of him wearing a smile that truly comes from the heart.
—The one setting your assignments while you're away on your trip.]
Shibusawa Tatsuhiko's crimson eyes lit up the moment he saw the additional assignment.
He had known it.
He'd sent exactly the right message.
A genuine smile, huh?
It seemed like Akiya-san had already realized that the boy wasn't happy.
Shibusawa Tatsuhiko wasn't particularly proactive by nature. Beneath his aristocratic upbringing lay an innate laziness, coupled with the quiet confidence that everything remained under his control.
Encouraged by Asou Akiya, however, he decided to sacrifice his precious leisure time. Forcing his unwilling legs into motion, he quietly slipped out for a midnight stroll through the estate.
That was when he witnessed the maid taking liberties with Tsushima Shuuji as he slept.
He snapped a photograph.
It was a little blurry, but no matter.
He attached a caption before sending it.
[Akiya-san, just look at how peacefully he's sleeping.]
Back in Ginza, Asou Akiya had just bought a pair of milk teas for himself and Randou.
The message nearly made him choke.
When the White Qilin decided to be devious, he was terrifyingly effective.
Having finally reached the end of his patience, Randou snatched the phone from Akiya's hand, powered it off by force, and slipped it into his own pocket, confiscating the means of communication between him and Shibusawa Tatsuhiko.
"Enough. We're shopping. After this, we're going to a bar to watch pole dancing."
"...Yes, Randou-sama."
Covering his face with one hand, Akiya gave the utterly insincere reply through the gaps between his fingers.
When no reply ever came, Shibusawa Tatsuhiko's expression dimmed.
He looked at the second photograph he had taken.
Then, without hesitation, he deleted it.
There was no point wasting storage space on his phone.
"Akiya-san's lover is such a nuisance."
There could only be one reason Akiya hadn't replied.
Someone had interrupted him.
Like a ghost, Shibusawa Tatsuhiko slipped silently into Tsushima Shuuji's room.
The boy had curled himself into a tight ball beneath the blankets, as though he intended to suffocate himself inside them.
A smile slowly spread across Shibusawa Tatsuhiko's lips.
He had just found something interesting to amuse himself with.
How should I make you happy?
Perhaps I'll simply try every method I can think of.
Surely one of them will make you smile from the bottom of your heart.
The next morning.
A tragedy struck the Tsushima household.
The maid who had attended Tsushima Shuuji had taken her own life, hanging herself from one of the cherry trees in the garden.
The few lingering blossoms of May only lent the scene an even deeper sense of desolation.
Tsushima Shuuji stood there in silence.
Then he turned around.
Beneath the shade of a tree stood Shibusawa Tatsuhiko, his deathly pale complexion making him resemble a leukemia patient. There was an almost dreamlike gentleness in his gaze as he silently mouthed the words:
[Why aren't you smiling?]
Tsushima Shuuji asked himself the very same question.
Why don't I want to smile?
Perhaps... I've simply gone numb.