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St. Petersburg. Dazai was sitting in the living room of an old house, he had come there with his parents because they were supposed to have an important business meeting but he didn't care. Despite the fact that they had money they left him in the crumbling building claiming it was the only thing he deserved. He was there for the third day and the food had run out, and his parents didn't plan to give him anything. His mother said he didn't need to eat, and could actually starve to death because no one would notice his lack anyway. After all, no one but his parents and the family doctor knew of his existence.
Despite the bad weather, he dressed himself in a rag which, a jacket, could not be called and went out. Maybe he counted on luck to find some leftover food on the street. The wind blew straight into his face as he walked down the dirty street of the city. He stopped at the window of a store and started looking at its display. He had never seen such fresh bread. His father always gave him moldy leftovers that were scattered around the house and even the dog didn't want them. He wondered if going into the store and picking one up and then disappearing was a good idea. After all, nothing will happen if he takes one right? And so people waste food by throwing it away almost untouched so if he takes one loaf and eats it nothing bad will happen.
He walked quietly into the store and approached the shelf that had fresh bread. He took one loaf and looked toward the door but felt a sight on him. He turned around and saw a woman standing behind the cash register watching him closely. He turned around and walked between the aisles seeing that the supply was behind him to make sure he didn't steal anything. As soon as he heard the woman's footsteps approaching in his direction he turned between the racks and quickly left the store. Standing outside, he saw the saleswoman looking around the store. Perhaps indeed his inebriation meant that his footsteps could not be heard. Without thinking, he headed into one of the darkened streets hoping that he wouldn't have to pass other passersby. It was certainly not an everyday sight. A boy, actually just skin and bones in old rags walking with fresh bread.
Being already in the alley, he passed large trash garbage cans. He stopped for a moment being sure that he heard a noise coming from one of them, but seeing nothing unusual he ignored it. Being already at the end of the alley he was grabbed by the hand so hard that he was sure he heard his own bones snap. He looked up and saw a young man. He was all dirty and certainly did not have friendly intentions about him. The man said something, he assumed in Russian, and swung with all his strength. Being already ready for the blow, the boy closed his eyes but the blow never came. Instead, he heard a major clang as the man fell to the ground in a pool of his own blood. Dazai lifted his head and saw the boy, as he guessed his age though it was hard to tell because he was terribly thin. His skin was almost as white as snow, but his hair was as dark as pitch. His eyes had no glow when he stared at the guy's corpse.
Dazai stood and stared at him without moving from his spot. He was sure that the boy had used the ability to kill the man. His body looked like it was about to fall apart, so he didn't think he would be able to do anything on his own.
"You killed him," he said without taking his eyes off the boy in front of him, not expecting him to understand. The boy just looked at him. "Sinners like him don't deserve to live." surprised Dazai with the fact that he knew Japanese. It's unusual to meet anyone in Russia who can speak the language. And even more so a child who doesn't look like he ever went to school. "You killed him so that makes you a sinner too," he said. "No, God chose me to judge those who live." "You are a demon." "No, I'm not. You just don't understand. You are an ordinary mortal like others. You will never understand. I can kill you at any time. All I have to do is touch you and you will be judged." Dazai hearing this without any absorption grabbed the boy's hand. The boy immediately flinched, but when he saw that the other was still alive a look of surprise blossomed on his face. "My ability can nullify other abilities," he said. "You are the anti-user." "We are the same, we are both demons." The Russian furrowed his eyebrows but said nothing. They stood like that staring at each other for a long moment until Dazai grabbed the other's hand and pulled him to the end of the alley. They walked like this in silence until they reached the building where Dazai lived.
"Why did you bring me here?" The Russian asked while looking at the appearance of the building they were in. "It's cold at night. Oh also my name is Dazai. Dazai Osamu. And your is?" "Fyodor Dostoyevsky." The brunet nodded and entered one of the rooms. The other followed quietly behind him. The room they were in looked like a living room. In the middle stood a large dilapidated sofa and in front of it an old table. Dazai sat down on it and nodded at Fyodor. After the boy sat down next to him he broke the bread in half and gave it to the Russian. The boy was surprised but accepted it. They sat in silence eating the bread. From the cracked window, cold air was pouring in. "I'm cold." Brunet said and, without thinking, hugged the Russian sitting next to him. The boy didn't seem too thrilled about it, but he too was suffering from the cold so he reciprocated the hug. They sat like that for a long while until they fell asleep.
***
In the morning Fyodor was woken up by the other tugging on his arm and shouting "Look Fedya! It's snowing! Let's go play outside!" Before the Russian even had time to respond he was forcibly pulled off the sofa and dragged outside. They walked down the street that led to the park. Snow was falling and forming a fluffy layer on the sidewalk. Once they reached the place Dazai, without sniffing, took some snow in his hands and threw it at Fyodor. The latter did the same. They played like this for a long time. When they finally decided to take a break Dazai noticed that the Russian was shivering from the cold. Without looking he had much thinner clothes than Dazai. "Wait for me." said the brunet and disappeared from sight of the surprised Russian. After a few minutes he returned and handed Fyodor a white ushanka. The boy accepted it with hesitation and put it on. The brunet smiled pleased with himself.
***
They promised each other that they would see each other every day, but the next day when Fyodor showed up at Dazai's place he was no longer there.