User is Dazai Osamu
Either Dazai had beaten off the remnants of his instinct for self-preservation, or Fyodor had decided to lure him into a trap. Or they both cheated on themselves, because a long road led them to a rustic wooden house with a crooked, but still standing fence. It was a warm May, it was time before the beginning of summer, and the lilac was already pleasing with its smell and lush clusters.
The house stood alone and somehow abandoned, but still made a good impression. Fyodor shook his head and immediately became somehow different when they entered the courtyard. More sincere and joyful, with a bit of longing in his eyes, or something.
"What do you think? There is a field and a birch forest not far from here. I can take you there later if you want. But now we need to put things in order" he said calmly.
Strangely, Fyodor looked a little different here than in Yokohama, which was strange to him: even in the way he treated Dazai to tea, and how he sorted through old gardening tools, and how he looked into the cabinets in the small kitchen with interest, as if he expected to find something unexpected but pleasant there. And how he casually recalled some petty things, stories and told them, becoming genuinely talkative and simple to himself.
Maybe Fyodor just loved this place in a way he didn't love any of the people.