Chief Oda won't complain

After confirming that Dazai will not use any big weapon against Mr. Mori, I will no longer try to mediate the conflict.

After all, people will vent their anger sometimes, which cannot be controlled by rationality.And in the sound of attacking Mr. Sen, the crying sound will not be so obvious.

Many students in this classroom have well-developed tear glands. Everyone reads "stories" that have nothing to do with themselves, but they are more devoted than the parties concerned.

If there is only one child crying secretly, I will try to comfort him.But if there are multiple children crying secretly, I can't do enough, I can't be comprehensive, I can only provide a space like this that doesn't make the children feel shy and embarrassed to cry.

Nakajima Atsushi, Zenitsu, Tanjiro...they are all kind and good boys, they will have empathy for people who have nothing to do with them, they will be strongly concerned about everything that happens in the different world, and they will want to read the "story", and read to the end.

What should I do to live up to these good boys?

I glanced at Kanae, the only third teacher in the classroom. She was holding Kanao in her arms and smiling softly, comforting her as the elder sister.And Sakata picked up a cigarette at some point, staring at the curtain with red eyes in a daze.

I suddenly remembered the eye contact with the Headmaster before the book club, and what the Headmaster wanted to say to me at that time.I couldn't understand it at the time, but I seem to understand it now.

The headmaster got the whole book, and if he put aside his other affairs for a while and concentrated on reading, he would probably have finished reading it all.

When he finished he wanted to tell me... no, he wanted to comfort me, just like I wanted to comfort the students.why?

I stopped my wild thoughts and turned my eyes to the curtain.

Xingyue turned down the page at a slower speed than before, which forced the reader to savor word by word.

The perspective moves back from the sea to the scene of the car explosion. The poor man who lost his children is struggling to support himself, hesitantly picking up the broken heart.

[Now I am no longer qualified to describe human beings. 】

Such a sentence was deeply imprinted in my eyes, and for some reason it burned a hole in my heart.

I can't help asking myself again: Are you qualified to continue reading this "story"?Are you qualified to know him?

In the past, my inactive brain would have given the answer without thinking - I am qualified.

Isn't it natural to understand "self" by oneself?

But now I'm not sure.

I in a different world want to become a novelist. Is this a wish or an obsession, a crutch to support the soul, or the wild fantasy of a dreamer?

Do I really understand?Can I really understand?

These years I have lived a peaceful daily life, with all kinds of troubles and joys in my life, and I am tightly wrapped up in trivial mundane affairs.

I have been working hard towards "teacher becoming a full-time teacher".Because this is the job I like, and this is the career plan I gave myself.But this is by no means a spiritual pillar that cannot be lost.

If one day I was suddenly dismissed from the academy and lived on the street, or even lost the qualification to teach and educate people forever, I think I would become decadent, and I would be depressed by a strong sense of frustration.But I will never just give up other possibilities in myself.

Maybe I can't be a teacher, but I can still sell curry rice?

Is this overly optimistic?I thought this was what normal people would think.

I am just the most common social animal among all living beings, a commoner floating in the ocean of the world.

Can Oda Sakunosuke, who has never killed anyone, and never made up his mind not to kill anyone, really feel the same way as himself in another world?

When I read that my self in a different world felt self-deprecating and thought that I was not qualified to write, I probably couldn't understand that feeling correctly.

This thought suddenly made me sit on pins and needles, and it was difficult to concentrate again.

Coincidentally, at this moment I heard a cat meow.The cry was very subtle, sticking to the wall outside the classroom, mixed with the sound of the rain, I shouldn't have noticed it.

Probably the ability of human beings to capture information will always suddenly become stronger at strange moments, I followed the sound and tried to look out.But all I could see were the tightly drawn curtains.

I got up and left the table, and this behavior really won the attention of the audience again.

"Mr. Odasaku?" Ango was a few beats behind and stood up with me. "Are you leaving? Then I will go together."

"No, I'm looking for the cat."

"Looking for a cat?"

"Well, the cat may be raining outside, I'll go out and have a look."

"Oh, that's it." An Wu sat back in his seat in a daze, looking rather silly.

I opened the door and walked out of the classroom, and the cold rain rushed into my arms. I was shocked and felt that my eyes suddenly became clearer.

The three-color cat was sitting in the corridor outside the door, meowing at me very affectionately.

"Didn't you go to the head of the school just now?"

I bent down and hugged it into my arms, and found that only its four feet were damp, but its body was actually very dry and warm, and it didn't get much rain.I immediately remembered the warmth it gave me when I first came to the academy in the first spring.

I asked it again: "Are you here because you are worried about me?"

The cat can't speak human language, so of course it only answered two meows.

I cherished it and carried it into the classroom, closed the door and returned to my seat, and took out a paper towel to dry the cat's feet.

The three-color cat nestled in my arms as a matter of course, and had no intention of leaving. I got a stove with a strong heartbeat, which was quite comforting.

It's hard to describe how I feel right now, but all the upsets from before were gone.

I calmly read the last part of today's book club.

After leaving the scene of the explosion, I went to the western restaurant and found that the owner of the shop was also killed by the battlefield ghosts of mimic.Suddenly, the already broken soul in the exhausted body twisted even more.

I was given a map that said "Graveyard of Ghosts".

I finally put on the bulletproof vest and other equipment like a qualified outsider, confirmed the weapon step by step as if praying, and then lit the cigarette that I had quit for a long time.

So in another world, did I still have a cigarette addiction?

And I never smoked.

The hole in my heart that was scalded by a single sentence just got bigger.

Dazai who was sitting next to me suddenly said, "Has Oda Saku ever smoked?"

"No……"

"That's good, because I haven't smoked it either." Dazai smiled slightly.

I get the feeling that he actually wanted to prolong the smile a little longer, but failed.

"Dazai-kun, I haven't smoked it either, so it's nothing to be proud of." Ango said. "Smoking is not allowed in places like campus. Sakata-sensei, don't you think so?"

Sakata raised a thumbs up in response.When I looked, the cigarette dangling from Sakata's mouth had disappeared, I don't know where he hid it, it was like magic.

"Story" After the death of five children, I finally remembered to tell me their respective names.

In another world, I did not choose to take a few puffs to finish the cigarette, but stared at the smoke until it burned out, and said goodbye to the children in the process.

After that, of course, I went to die according to the map instructions. Dazai came to try to stop me. He said that there was still an inside story to be found out, that there was something to trust, and that he wanted to look forward to good things. He also took the initiative to tell me the reason why he joined the port mafia.

It turns out that Dazai, who committed suicide all day long, has been actively looking for a reason to live.

Sadly, Dazai said it was all useless and I chose not to turn back.

The one who is really hopelessly dead is not Dazai, but me.

By the time I read the last word, my fingers didn't cool down with my mood.The tri-color cat was always nestled in my arms, my fingertips sunk in the fur, constantly soaked in the warmth of another living creature.

Dazai wanted to stand up and talk, I held him down, put the three-color cat into his arms, and stood up by myself.

Everyone in the whole study session today paid special attention to me.So the movement of me getting up also managed to interrupt other people who wanted to speak immediately after reading.

Everyone stared up at me, waiting for me to speak.This seems to be the second time today?Last time I got up and didn't say anything worthy of everyone's quiet attention. I just went out to look for the cat. I failed everyone's attention, and I probably won't disappoint this time.

I looked at Xingyue and asked directly: "The thing you want me to help you is not just asking me to make room for another self, right?"

The author has something to say: The principal looked out the window: the cat ran away, it was really a lonely rain.

I haven't said it all the time, and the full text has gone through more than half of the plot.But the remaining half are not sure how many words they can write.

Let me tell you this is just for the convenience of everyone's estimation, so you can feel at ease... It's still far from the end.

thank

Yihangjia's little red flower threw a landmine...