Chapter 30

Kitty lay softly on his chest, her breath slow and steady. Dazai's eyes traced the curve of her bare form, lingering over the marks he'd left on her—his art, the canvas of her skin. Her eyes were shut tightly, pressed against him like a fragile, broken thing. He could feel the weight of her exhaustion—the physical and emotional toll their recent activities had taken on her. Her responses to his touch had been both sweet and strained: the gasps, the moans, the shudders.

His gaze lingered on her swollen, bruised lips, evidence of his rough affection. Her chest was streaked with fresh red marks, the imprint of his hands, his teeth—his mark on her.

Art by Dazai Osamu.

Kitty's eyelids fluttered open. For a moment, her gaze was distant, as if she didn't recognize him. As if she had forgotten who he was.

"Kitty," Dazai murmured, brushing a lock of hair from her shoulder. His fingers gently patted her head, an unspoken gesture of affection.

But Kitty's eyes hardened, and she removed his hand from her shoulder with a swift motion. It caught him off guard, and for a fleeting second, something like surprise flashed across his face.

He had embraced Kitty with all his heart and warmth. A mix of emotions flickered on his heart as his mind had felt those vulnerable flashbacks, melting to her touch.

The way she'd squirt, Exchanging fluids between their private parts.

Her defiance made him regret every intimate moments they had shared.

Dazai had always been a womanizer, moving from one lover to the next without a second thought. He had kissed countless women—young and old, rich and poor—offering affection as carelessly as a gambler tossing dice. It had never mattered.

But, Kitty - she had been different. Infact, the moment he had first laid eyes on her, something hit him. Something different.

Dazai wasn't stupid enough to believe in love at first sight.

Love at first sight?

It was love forever and every sight.

With a harsh tone, in her voice, she spoke, "Aren't you satisfied?"

According to Dazai, it was one of the most unforgettable night.

And those words pierced his soul and he wanted to kill himself then and there.

"I... a...," he stammered, "Kitty... I can do those things with you every day, every night, every second and I still won't be satisfied."

"Don't be foolish, demon.," Kitty pulled her clothes and started dressing herself hastily, "and give me what I want."

Dazai exhaled slowly. There was no stopping her.

Without another word, he reached for a document resting on his desk. The paper felt heavier than it should have—like a finality he wasn't ready to accept. With a sigh, he placed it in her waiting hands.

"It's called the Black Oracle," he said, watching her expression carefully. "A special decree issued by the Port Mafia's executives." His voice dipped, low and serious. "With this, you can go anywhere. No one—not even the boss of the Port Mafia himself—can touch you once you escape."

She looked down at the document, fingers tightening around its edges.

Freedom.

Dazai had just handed her a weapon. A key. A way out. And once she was gone… she would be untouchable.

Even to him.

"Kitty," a sharp, calculated voice cut through the silence, the tone crisp and emotionless.

Her eyes slowly moved from the Black Oracle, locking with Dazai's—his brown eyes, cold and empty, as if he were staring through her.

"If you ever get tired of all the abuse," Dazai's words slithered into the space between them, "you can always come to me."

A brief, twisted smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "We can commit double suicide."

The words dropped like stones in water, dark and unyielding. Typical Dazai.

"Thanks for the offer, lovely Dazai," Kitty said, her voice laced with a calm but biting edge. "But maybe I respect my life a little more. Maybe I want to treat myself better. Or maybe... I want to live."

She tilted her head slightly, a quiet challenge in her eyes. "Thou shalt not die."

"Oh, how lightly you spoke those words, so innocent about living," Dazai scoffed, his voice dripping with mockery. "Your ill innocence."

"My ill innocence?" Kitty echoed, her eyes narrowing with a hint of curiosity. "Interesting choice of words."

She adjusted the jacket, her movements slow and deliberate as she spoke, "I hated your objectification of me. The way you called me a 'doll.'"

Dazai's eyes flickered with a moment of uncertainty, but she continued, unwavering.

"But now I understand."

Dazai's gaze sharpened, his expression thoughtful, but there was a hint of nervousness beneath it as he briefly met her eyes.

"A person who sees others as objects, justifying their actions by reducing others to objects... it's no big deal to you. You're pathetic, Dazai." She paused, her voice colder now, "And now, all I can do is pity you."

Dazai's face remained stoic, but his voice dropped, as if acknowledging something deep inside him.

"That's right," Dazai Osamu said, his words flat. "I am no longer human."