It had started as a normal, monotonous morning, with the usual flow of life painting the day in mundane shades of color. Fyodor Dostoyevsky had certainly not planned to go out on a date today. However, it appears that Dazai had beaten Fyodor in this game of unpredictability once again. The war was yet to commence, though, as both of them knew.

And so they were here, in an amusement park blooming with life, out on what human beings like to call "dates."

"Where do you wish to go first, Dazai-kun?"