The Protagonist Always Wants to Find Someone to Commit Suicide With - Chapter 3

“Good morning, everyone. I am the substitute teacher filling in for Mr. Yasaka. I’ll be in charge of your Japanese Literature studies.”

Dazai Osamu walked onto the podium carrying a stack of materials. He picked up a piece of chalk and wrote three characters on the blackboard. The white script was neat and elegant; against the dark board, it was quite aesthetically pleasing.

“My name is Dazai Osamu,” he said, offering the seated students a perfectly measured smile. “I look forward to working with you.”

Under normal circumstances provided one ignored his eccentricities Dazai could be described as the embodiment of grace and propriety. Even now, though he wasn’t wearing the standard professional suit expected of a teacher, he still radiated an undeniable academic authority. At the very least, it was enough to convince the students that the man wrapped in bandages was a legitimate educator and not someone suffering from a late-stage “eighth-grader syndrome” delusion.

“If there are no questions, let us begin the lesson.”

The students sat upright in their seats, though some couldn’t help but whisper among themselves. Dazai looked incredibly young; even if one were to pull a single line from his actual resume, it would be enough to shock them into silence. After all, he was only just over eighteen years old.

Maintaining an air of steady composure, Dazai sighed internally to the System: “Ah, children… just overflowing with the scent of youth.”

[System]: You’ve only just become an adult yourself, haven’t you? My ‘Youngest Executive in History’?

“Is the teacher a recent graduate?” a girl asked, raising her hand.

“You could say that,” Dazai replied. If a diploma obtained an hour ago counted, then he was indeed a fresh graduate.

“Teacher!” a boy called out. Upon receiving a nod from Dazai, he continued, “Why are you wearing all those bandages?”

“…” Dazai cocked an eyebrow. “Because I like them.”

[System]: That was incredibly lazy.

The System remembered asking its host the same question once. Dazai’s answer at the time had been: “This is performance art.”

Dazai waved the student back into his seat. “Question time is over.”

His eyes swept over the classroom. “Is everyone present? I believe there is a student in this class named Natsume Takashi”

“Yes, Teacher,” the class representative, Sasada Jun, stood up. “Natsume-kun is absent today. He called in sick.”

“I see. Thank you,” Dazai mused. Absent? If his guess was correct, the curse had likely not been lifted yet. Had Natsume failed to catch the spirit, or was it something else? It seemed he wouldn’t be seeing that interesting boy today after all.

“Well then, let’s begin!” Dazai placed his textbook on the desk. “Turn to page 21.”

The Starving Artist

“I have to admit, you actually look like a real teacher when you’re lecturing,” the System mocked the moment they stepped out of the classroom.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Dazai replied, unfazed.

One should never doubt his professional dedication. Once he decided to play the part of a teacher, he had prepared quite seriously. Although his original assignment back home was to teach middle schoolers, he had read through high school textbooks multiple times just to show his “sincerity.” A lesson of this level was child’s play to him.

“Where are you going now?” The System watched as Dazai wandered aimlessly down the road as if searching for something.

The inner workings of this “neurotic” host were never as simple as his frivolous exterior suggested. Since Dazai had accepted the mission, the System assumed he would find a way to complete it. In terms of sheer cunning, the System knew it was no match for this former Mafia member, one half of the legendary “Double Black.”

Is there something plot-related nearby? the System wondered, puzzled.

“Is there not a single bar in this vicinity that allows tab-charging?” Dazai stopped in his tracks and urged the System. “Quick, look for one!”

“What do you need a bar for?” the System asked, confused. “My database only contains addresses for plot-relevant characters. I don’t keep records of bars.”

Dazai pulled his hands from his pockets, looking utterly drained. “I haven’t eaten a single thing since I arrived here yesterday”

“Then go eat.”

“But I have no money! The currency of this world doesn’t circulate with my original world, and even if it did my wallet was washed away when I jumped into the river.”

“So, as of right now, I am completely penniless.”

“Ah, what should I do? Am I destined to leave this mortal coil via starvation?!”

He clutched his chest, looking like a man dying of a broken heart and shattered lungs. If the System didn’t know the context, it might have believed its host was about to ascend to the heavens at any second.

“That would be torture! I refuse to die of hunger.”

[System]: …

“Is there any high-paying work?” Dazai asked. “Or can you just give me some money?”

“I don’t have that function,” the System replied after a moment of searching. “Why don’t you try taking on an Exorcist’s commission?”

“Exorcism? I have absolutely no experience in that” Dazai’s voice sounded dejected.

Just as the System was about to offer a few words of comfort, the madman suddenly sprang back to life. “Fine!! It’s decided. A man like me, burdened with the hopes of the masses, cannot give up so easily!”

“Where do I pick up these Exorcist commissions?”

[System]: Oscar really owes you a Best Actor award.

“The Matoba Clan’s territory should have them,” the System answered dutifully, despite its overwhelming urge to write a 1,000-word essay critiquing his performance.

“Then let’s head there.”

Unlike Natori Shuichi’s relatively modern apartment, the Matoba Clan’s estate was steeped in an aura of antiquity and mystery.

The profession of Exorcist had existed since the ancient days when spirits roamed the earth. Alongside the shrine maidens of Shinto, they had survived into the modern era. Though unknown to the general public, they remained active in the shadows.

Centuries of history had brought not only a decline in their powers but also the heavy marks of tradition. Even before the ancient, storied mansion came into view, Dazai was convinced it was a truly mysterious place mostly because he was completely lost.