But what did Dazai do wrong?

The two drenched people finally reached the door of the house.

The corners of the tunic skirt and the cuffs of the suit dripped continuously, and the "not welcome" carpet at the door was forced to take a cold shower without after-sales service. Continue to blame it.

"Did you bring the keys?" Riri Yamabuki twisted the heavy skirt after absorbing water.

"I didn't bring it." Osamu Dazai took out his pocket, took out a light pink hairpin and shook it, "I have this."

You even have to pry the door lock of your own house. You are really there, the little prince of Yokohama Unlocking.

Riri Yamabuki stepped aside to make room for Osamu Dazai. He squatted down to look at the structure of the door lock. The dripping water on his forehead dazzled his eyes. Osamu Dazai blinked uncomfortably. People pull aside.

"Isn't it nice to show your forehead?" Riri Yamabuki hooked the loose bandages on the upper half of his eyes, "Wear a hairpin, pink is fine."

Your taste is really female high school students, since you like the cute and cute style, why do you bully his little cat?

Osamu Dazai pried open the lock in twos and then opened the door for Riri Yamabuki to enter first.

"Go and wash first." Riri Yamabuki pushed Dazai Osamu, "Soak in hot water for half an hour before coming out."

Osamu Dazai was about to say something, but a gust of wind blew in through the crack of the open door, he sneezed, and felt cold all over after realizing it.

Riri Yamabuki took out a glass of iced Coke from the refrigerator, opened the tab with one hand and took a sip, and asked suspiciously, "Aren't you going yet? See you in the ICU ward the next day?"

She was exposed to the same degree of rain as Osamu Dazai, but she can go home without changing clothes and have a bottle of ice coke to comfort herself. Osamu Dazai can only obediently hug his pajamas and soak himself in the bathtub, before going to bed. Fill at least a cup of Banlangen with a cup of ginger soup.

People's physiques cannot be generalized, he is just a delicate flower, unable to withstand the wind and rain.

Osamu Dazai honestly spit bubbles in the bathtub, Riri Yamabuki lightly threw the can of Coke into the trash can, and changed into the newly bought pajamas.

It was a white cotton-padded jacket with a hem so long that it could cover her thighs. The four big characters "one kill a day" were written in calligraphy like splashed ink on the clothes, and she was moved by the first glance.

She bought the same style and color for Osamu Dazai, but changed "One Kill a Day" to "Do One Good Every Day". Dazai was silent for a long time after receiving the clothes.

He may be a little ambiguous.

Only one warm light was turned on in the living room, and Riri Yamabuki was drying his long hair, just in time to see Osamu Dazai with a wet towel on his head coming out of the steaming bathroom.

His pale skin was tinged red by the heat, and he walked towards her slowly and slowly.

Riri Yamabuki looked at the hair dryer in her hand, and she patted the sofa: "Come here, I'll blow it for you."

Dazai Osamu didn't sit on the sofa, he walked up to Riri Yamabuki, and sat down facing her with his palms on the carpet, his slender legs curled up obediently, his steam-stained head drooped down, revealing the back of his fair neck.

The wet towel covered Osamu Dazai's expression, and the water droplets dripping from the tips of his hair dazzled the light-colored carpet, leaving circles of gradational water marks.

Riri Yamabuki pushed the start button of the hair dryer, and the hot air whined.

Dazai Osamu's head is very rua, and his soft black hair sticks to his hands obediently, as if he has offered to offer a cat's head to someone to rub a little black cat, no matter how you ravage/ravage him, he will accept it, like a sweet little fudge.

Riri Yamabuki blow-dried his hair, lowered his eyes, and there was a touch of white in his dark golden pupils.

People with excellent combat intuition will always unconsciously pay attention to the fatal point, or the blue veins on the wrist, or the neck where the end of the hair meets the skin, just a little force on the back of the neck that is exposed like this...

Oxygen deficiency, suffocation, after struggling helplessly, only intermittent mourning remains, water mist overflows from the iris-colored eyes, before dying he must be intertwined with joy and pain, under the mist hides a sober calmness .

He will watch himself be killed with cold eyes.

"Ryri-chan." Dazai Osamu looked up at Riri Yamabuki with his forehead hanging down. It was rare that there was no bandage wrapped around his face. He said with a little distress, "The sight is too much."

What terrible thing are you imagining?It was as if he was going to peel him and swallow his bones until there was no residue left.

"Keep your head down." Riri Yamabuki lightly kicked him on the waist, she pinched the back of Dazai Osamu's neck and pressed him back to the position where he was blowing his hair, "Do you have any cold medicine at home?"

"It's in the medicine cabinet." Osamu Dazai was obediently pushed back, he wanted Riri Yamabuki to drink the hot and spicy ginger soup with him, and he caught a glimpse of the steaming Coke can in the trash can from the corner of his eye. frustrated.

Damn it, it's obviously the same person who wants to die and get caught in the rain, hateful.

"Ginger soup is very good for girls." Osamu Dazai was still unwilling to give up, "Especially for people with cold body, drink a bowl of it before going to bed to warm you up."

When Riri Yamabuki stepped on the carpet without shoes, his bare feet were next to Osamu Dazai's legs, and he shook the girl's slender ankle.

Cold as ice.

"I'm used to it, it's not cold." Riri Yamabuki struggled lightly, but didn't let go, letting Osamu Dazai hold her ankle tightly.

It's not cold, and I even want to have another Coke with ice.

"I will take you to Russia to see the stars in winter some other day." Riri Yamabuki turned off the hair dryer and recalled, "Lying in the endless snow, the stars all over the sky are as close as they are about to fall, and the snow is softer than a quilt."

Beautiful frozen people.

It really freezes to death.

"Has Riri-chan lived in Russia for a long time?" Osamu Dazai rested his head on her lap, blinking his eyes, Maomao was curious.

"It's been a long time." Riri Yamabuki recalled, "Winter is one of the rare days when you can drink spirits in a fair manner. The fireplace in the activity room is very lively, and you can dance all night and all night under the Christmas tree."

"Dancing...?" Osamu Dazai suddenly clapped his hands excitedly, "Great, Riri-chan, come and teach me how to dance!"

"There will be a dance party for entertaining foreign guests the day after tomorrow, and Mr. Mori will ask me to work overtime." Osamu Dazai said pitifully, "Just arranging security and seating is exhausting, and it's really too much to bring a partner to the opening dance. I'm going to die after a while of work, please help me with Li-chan."

"You can't dance?" Yamabuki Ritsu couldn't understand, she hadn't thought of it at all, "What about the previous year-end dance?"

"The year-end dance at Mafia in Port Mafia is reserved for singing by dark dwarfs." Osamu Dazai said very calmly, "As long as you get Chuya drunk, you won't be able to hear any music at the whole dance except opera, and you don't need to dance at all. .”

"Help me." Osamu Dazai put his hands together cutely, "If Riri-chan refuses to be my dance partner, I can only ask Sister Hongye, she will definitely drive me full like a spinning top Fleeing in disorder, super embarrassing."

"What's more," Dazai Osamu hooked Yamabuki Riri's little finger, and kissed her on his lips, his kite eyes focused on her, "Aren't we lovers? Do you really have the heart to leave me behind?"

The beauty trick is corny but useful.

"You always have a reason... a Viennese waltz?" Riri Yamabuki spread his palms.

She is used to leading the pace, holding Dazai Osamu's hand and stepping back step by step, the boy's toes rubbed against hers, never touching at a very close distance.

The hazy moonlight spills into the room through the windows, printing dreamy moon marks on the floor.

Riri Yamabuki stepped on the moon marks and asked Osamu Dazai to hold her waist.

Through a layer of fabric, he touched the shallow depression of his fingertips.

She actually has a waist.

Waist dimples are known as the sexy eyes of the human body. Only 3% of women in the world have them. They are the proof of a perfect body and belong to the legendary level like the single-digit body fat percentage pursued by men.

Osamu Dazai looked down at her, the girl with black hair and golden eyes brushed her long hair behind her ears, put her arms on his shoulders, she glanced at Osamu Dazai: "Don't look down at your feet."

Beginners will bow their heads frequently because they are afraid of stepping on their dance partners. The Viennese Waltz, known for its romance, not only requires the coordination of dance steps, but also pays more attention to the communication between dancers' eyes and breath.

"You just have to look at me," she said incredulously.

There is no soundtrack, and the only accompaniment is the sound of the rustling rain outside the window. The moonlight on a rainy night is shrouded in fog like a spotlight under the eyes of everyone, illuminating the darkness of the room.

The small golden-red fish wagging its tail in the deep fish tank approached the transparent glass, spit out a string of small bubbles, and the intertwined shadows on the ground were printed in the bubbles.

The corners of the clothes bloom like unscrewed cornflowers, and at night when only the moonlight shines on the carpet, the person by the window dances a silent and intimate dance.

After finishing a super-difficult spin, Riri Yamabuki took a step forward and leaned gently on Osamu Dazai's chest.

"Your heart beats so fast." She laughed, "Are you tired?"

"Don't worry, you danced well." Yamabuki Riri comforted.When she learned to dance by herself, she thought that others were as talented as she was, and could complete a complex dance piece on the first attempt.

How could Osamu Dazai not be able to dance.

He told a lot of lies on a whim, maybe it was a whim, maybe it was a casual perfunctory, or it might be a habit of covering up.

Just like this time, he excused that he couldn't dance, and asked Riri Yamabuki to teach him by hand.

It was easier to convince her than imagined, and the teaching process was even more relaxed.

Osamu Dazai doesn't need to do anything, he just needs to hold her hand, hold her waist, and look into her dark golden eyes, and he doesn't need to grasp the rest.

His steps follow her rhythm forward and backward, every movement of his body exerts force and every movement changes like her fingers.

It stands to reason that such a loss of control will make people think that they are a puppet on a string, like a bear doll danced by a little girl's arm, passively bearing everything.

No, no discomfort at all.

The girl's approaching movements are intimate and yet measured. She will slow down and lead him to immerse himself in the smooth tacit understanding like red velvet. She will also calmly show the dazzlingly complicated and difficult dance steps, and take him to a higher level with her own hands. The lightness and freedom of top dancers.

What complicates Osamu Dazai's taste is that Riri Yamabuki is obviously learning from him and deepening his skills little by little. If it were someone else, a real beginner with no foundation, tonight's dance music would be a completely different one.

There is nothing more satisfying than an exclusive bespoke tailoring.

"I am special", people are pursuing their uniqueness and irreplaceability from birth to death.

He wants what others have, and she gives him what others don't have.

Dancing together is synonymous with ambiguity, Osamu Dazai thought of it the moment he told a lie.

Tonight is ambiguous. It is also a temptation. Once the seeds of doubt are planted, they will germinate. If Riri Yamabuki does not completely remove the suspicion for a day, Osamu Dazai will doubt her for a day and hide the blade of temptation in the ambiguous honey. , cut her or herself, even if it was bloody.

Even so, occasionally, just occasionally, under the soft and silent moonlight, it is justifiable to indulge yourself a little bit, right?

It's the fault of the moonlight being so beautiful, how can I blame people?

"Why don't you talk?" Yamabuki Riri held Dazai Osamu's face in both hands and looked at it, "Are you really tired?"

The young man's physical strength is weak, and his heartbeat has not yet stabilized.

"Tired." Osamu Dazai held her hand, rubbing his face against his palm.

"I feel like you are acting like a baby today." Yamabuki Riri laughed at him, "Don't put on that resentful face of 'you forced him, and he didn't agree to date you at all'?"

"I don't have it." Osamu Dazai puffed his face in dissatisfaction, "I obviously like Riri-chan very much."

lie.

Riri Yamabuki found it interesting. She knew that Osamu Dazai never gave up his suspicion of her, but the death of Ogier Brandy was too simple and clean, and the connection with her was not close enough to make Osamu Dazai highly vigilant.

That's why he changed his method and gradually figured it out.

It's fine to pretend that you can't see it, delay it for a while and settle down for a while, or simply find someone to take the blame.

If it were someone else, a person who was afraid of exposing himself and shrinking cautiously, he would naturally be able to keep going and cause trouble.

Is Riri Yamabuki an ordinary person?

Will she restrain herself because of Osamu Dazai's suspicion?

Think beautifully.

How cute, the cat sits in the rain by the river because he can't figure out where the mission went wrong, the deep-seated suspicion in the gloomy kite eyes makes the scalp tingle, it's unbelievably beautiful.

Riri Yamabuki likes Dazai Osamu's vigilant look of doubting her testing her and the dangerous aura hidden in his ambiguous behavior.

How boring it is to trust someone casually.

Only the bloody love words uttered when the throat is pierced by thorns and lies are unforgettable.

Doubt her more, more.

——It's like standing on an isolated island that is gradually sinking, drowning little by little.