The muzzle of the gun is pointed at Mori’s head...

Late evening, the sun has almost completely dropped below the horizon, in some places still touching the buildings with lonely rays. The light of the sun slipped through the panoramic windows. The office is quiet, only the breathing of two people can be heard. There are not many employees left in the building, most of them had finished their workday, even their security, Mori recklessly (or maybe not) let him go from work.

Dazai could barely breathe, his sighs were heavy, as if something was squeezing his chest so much cage, which did not allow he to breathe completely. His eyes looked at Mori with piercing hatred. His hand that held the gun did not tremble.

Today was an ordinary day for all mafia employees, everyone except Dazai. Today Oda Sakunosuke died in his arms.

Mori also looked at Dazai silently and impenetrably, only a slight tension in his body betrayed his anxiety.