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Dazai used to play piano in Port Mafia. Chuuya woud eavesdrop on him because he secretly enjoyed it, but never admitted it.

Dazai left the Port Mafia and no longer has the ability to play piano in the ADA, frankly because no-one knows about his talent (except Ranpo).

Sometimes those who were present at the time of Demon Prodigy, would still hear the familiar tune of the song he loved to play. Only now it would be subtle humming. As if hunting everyone. (Especially Mori. But it also brought a sense of nostalgia to him, so he never told Chuuya to stop)

(Chuuya hums subconsciously, so he has no idea why sometimes people would look around the corridors as if looking for a ghost. The echo is good in PM headquarters.)

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Most people seem to believe that whenever a man commits a crime he is sure to be apprehended and swiftly punished. Few, very few, seem to realize that many murderers could go scot-free, if only they would adopt the right tactics. Can you deny this?

Edogawa Ranpo, “The Red Chamber” from Japanese Tales of Mystery and Imagination

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🔞-slightly

🦀: Chibi, Chibi, CHIBI

🐌: what

🦀 is typing...

🐌: I don’t have all day, you bastard

🐌: What are you typing? bible?

🦀: I wanna hold your hand

🦀: I wanna sleep cuddling

🦀: I want you to tell me I’m a good boy.

🦀: no, I’m YOUR good boy

🐌: Dazai, wtf

🦀: and I want you to choke me with your d1ck until I can’t breathe anymore

🐌:

🦀: tie me to the bedpost and use me

🦀: step on my d1ck

🦀: pull my hair

🦀: I want it all, Chibi. i wanna be your pet

🦀:

🐌: where are u?

🦀: rn???

🐌:

🦀: in the bath, the food didn’t agree with me and

🐌: TOO MUCH INFORMATION

🦀: Chibi doesn’t love me?

🐌: give me an hour, asshole.

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Soiled Sorrow: today too snow falls on it; soiled sorrow: today too wind blows on it.

Soiled sorrow is like, say, a fox’s fur; soiled sorrow in its torpor dreams of death.

Soiled sorrow frightens me piteously; soiled sorrow can’t be remedied, and the sun sets…

- Nakahara Chūya, “Soiled Sorrow” from The Poems of Nakahara Chūya

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When a person inherits his parents’ property it is called a legacy. But this legacy merely includes a patch of land and household furnishings. They can be lost without trace. But the world’s civilization is a legacy of a different sort. Each and every person receives a legacy from the human race as a whole. It is so tremendous that it cannot even be compared with land and household furnishings. But who is there to thank for these blessings? It is like receiving the sunlight and the air, so indispensable for life, without cost. For all its value, present owners should say that civilization is entirely due to the hidden virtue and generous gifts of the people of the past.

Fukuzawa Yukichi, An Encouragement of Learning

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FemChuu... Wife... *blushes*

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You see, I had wanted to become a novelist since I was a young boy. But I convinced myself I did not possess the talent. This deeply entrenched belief that had me give up hope altogether could be what fundamentally drove me to madness and desperation.

Sakaguchi Ango, Wind, Light, and the Twenty-Year-Old Me

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Of late, human beings seem increasingly pitiful to me and I can hardly stand it anymore. People try to squeeze every drop out of nonexistent wisdom, and yet they only get worse.

Dazai Osamu, A New Hamlet

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It's my 1 year anniversary on Tumblr 🥳

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Tales of the Spring Rain by Ueda Akinari

"For how many days has the spring rain been here? How pleasant and still it is! I took out my favorite writing brush and inkstone, but though I pondered long and hard, I could think of nothing to write. Merely to imitate the old romances is a task for the novice. My own circumstances, at present, differ little from those of a humble woodsman: how could I draw upon my own life for a tale? Stories of the past—and of the present as well—have deceived many; indeed, I myself, being unaware that such accounts were lies, have on occasion misled others by repeating them. But what of that? Such tales will continue to be told, and there will always be some who honor them as true history. Well aware of this, I go on writing my stories, as the spring rains keep falling." - Ueda Akinari, "Preface" to Tales of the Spring Rain

"As we pass through this world, the empty husk of a cicada, is not all our toil ephemeral as well as arduous? With frantic haste, both mighty and lowly are striving, each at his own task."

- Ueda Akinari, "The Grave of Miyagi" from Tales of the Spring Rain

"When Confucianism came to Japan, did its logical teachings correct any evils in our country, I wonder? It used twisted arguments and fancy rhetoric. Years have gone by, and Confucianism flourishes, but we are still not really at peace."

- Ueda Akinari, "The Bloodstained Robe" from Tales of the Spring Rain

"Come to think of it, being a cow or a horse isn’t all misery. In fact, in some ways it might even be enjoyable—at least judging from what I’ve observed. We human beings don’t live in such a land of joy, after all. In order to make our living, we have more worries than any horse or cow does."

- Ueda Akinari, "The Destiny that Spanned Two Lifetimes" from Tales of the Spring Rain

"There’s obviously a difference between a person with talent, and one without: even a gifted father can’t always pass on his skills to his son. On the contrary, literature and poetry must be born from one’s own heart—how can they be based on some kind of teaching? Of course, in most arts you must take your first steps under a teacher’s guidance. But as you progress further, what special training can there be, outside of the standards you yourself erect as guideposts? ...Only when you have realized your own creative powers, will your art be truly your own." - Ueda Akinari, "The One-Eyed God" from Tales of the Spring Rain

“We may be thieves, but we do value our own lives. Riches are easy to steal, but life is hard to hold on to. If you know the secret of how to steal a hundred years of happiness, then tell us all about it."

- Ueda Akinari, "Hankai" from Tales of the Spring Rain

“'I may be old, but I’m still a warrior,' said the samurai. 'All I wish is to be able to serve my master faithfully. As for how much longer I’m to live—I’m willing to leave that to Heaven; whether my life is to be long or short, I have no say in the matter. But when you wish to live for a hundred years, when you have to sneak about, hiding everywhere you go, without one single place where you can live in peace—it’s as if you had already died while you're still a young man!'”

- Ueda Akinari, "Hankai" from Tales of the Spring Rain

"The man who reclaims his heart from evil partakes of the essence of the Buddha; but he whose heart is unrestrained becomes a demon."

- Ueda Akinari, "Hankai" from Tales of the Spring Rain

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The consciousness of complicated misery surrounds me. Tragedy immanent in things themselves operates and presses me into hopeless darkness…But I believe, after all, in the ultimate righteousness of things. Even if I found myself at the bottom of hell when I woke on some morning, this belief would not change. But even with this, it is still bitter for me to walk this life.

Nakajima Atsushi, Light, Wind, and Dreams

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25 posts!

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did you notice?

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cuddle