Part 1. Chapter 1
Night. And somewhere the sounds of a crashed helicopter, in which his friend was sitting. This air transport falls so the ground and Dostoevsky's dead hand falls out. Gogol is no longer as cheerful as before, and having approached the place of his death, he squatted down and took his best friend's hand.
- I didn't think your death would be like this. But nevertheless, it did happen. You once said, «excellent. You are going against the will of God and fighting to lose yourself. ». Then I understood that you were the only who understood me. - He paused and continued after a few second. - Do you know why I wanted to kill you? You were my closest friend. If I don't kill my close friend, will I be able to prove my freedom?
In a white prison jumpsuit, Dazai stood behind Gogol and looked at this scene. Now Nikolai says goodbye to Dostoevsky, leaning his hand against his chest and how to talk to an already dead body about how good he was and ready to listen to him. As he perfectly understood Gogol, his essence, the essence of himself.
Chuya voice is heard somewhere.
- Fuck! They don't come off! The boss has glued these fucking teeth tightly!
Dazai walked up to him and looked down at his friend.
- Can't get it out? - Dazai chuckled.
- You could have helped! - Chuya shouted and turned away from Osamu.
- You played the role of Dostoevsky's subordinate perfectly, apparently, the role is very suitable for you when someone orders you... - said Dazai, smiling, closing his eyes and slightly turning his head.
- Shut up!
- What are you going to do now, Nikolai? - Osamu finally turned to Gogol.
- I have one goal. To revive Fyodor. - he said, putting his hand near the corpse and getting to his feet.
Dazai looked at Dostoevsky's friend. Removing the card from the second eye, Gogol looked down. He feel to the floor and somehow sadly uttered his sentence, and then raised his green and blue eyes to Osamu.
Dazai looked at Nikolai with a serious look. «Why should he revive Dostoevsky? To kill again? Or was his desire to do this just a reason for further plans? - thought Dazai, but apparently he won't get an answer even if he asks. »
- I'll have to ask the boss to peel them off! - Chuya shouted, realizing that it was futile to try to get those vampire teeth on his own.
- Well, you chat here, and I'm off. - said Gogol, learning the card against his eye and using the ability, he disappeared.
Dazai turned to Chuya.
- Chuya, we have to go, finish it. - he said, with a smile on his face and clearly enjoying the moment when his friend is angry.
— I see for myself that it's time! The red—haired guy shouted and left his teeth alone, got up from his squats and dusted himself off and added. — how annoying you are, Dazai.
***
Gogol found himself in his room. No one knew where he lived, no one knew what his house looked like. But Nikolai, of course, knew.
White walls, a window overlooking the sea, some paintings. A cupboard with books, a round wooden table with maps scattered on it, 2 chairs near the table and a bed. He doesn't need anything else.
Gogol walked from side to side of his dwelling and put his hand to his chin and thought. «How to revive Fyodor? Surely there are people with this ability, the question is how to find them? But there are books on resurrection rituals. What's easier then? A person or a book? Or maybe both...»
Nikolai looked at the sea. The sea is black as a cloud with the reflection of the moon in it. Ships on which the lights have already gone out and houses in front of Gogol's window.
After a little thought, Gogol decided to find a book with information about the resurrection, because there definitely should be such a thing. «It's good that I am masterfully able to disguise myself and not give myself away,» Gogol thought to himself and smiled, a crazy smile stretched to the brim.
First, he decided to inspect his bookcase:
«Crime and Punishment», «Overcoat», «White Nights», «Confessions of an inferior person», «The Fall of the House of Usher», «magic charms of the moon» and other literature. There is nothing related to the desired topic.
— Then I'll have to look for information myself. Gogol muttered and putting down the book decided to start searching right now. — So that no one would recognize me and notice me, you need to disguise yourself, and only then look for the right books and interrogate certain people, right? That's right, it is. But who should I disguise myself as this time? He looked out the window, from which moonlight fell on the floor in Nikolai's room. — I need to create a new person.
One can always hope for Nikolai's luck. In his ability to disguise himself so that if you conduct a very long and sweaty investigation, Gogol will still get away with it; a white shirt, a red jacket, light pink trousers and black shoes that cost an insane amount of money. Black hair, neatly combed to the right side and glasses with white gloves. «Here she is, a new personality who will do all sorts of dirty tricks,» Gogol happily thought, examining his new image. — with this person, I will be able to get any information about the resurrection.
Gogol, smiling with all his teeth, began to come up with a plan according to which he would find the necessary information.
First, he will visit the library, then with the help of the ability to go to other libraries in the world and there will certainly be something useful.
— Oh, what a good fellow I am! - Nikolai praised himself again, covering his right eye with his palm and proudly raising his head. He always liked to praise himself. And if he sets a goal, he praises himself, thereby making it clear that he will succeed. He said the same thing when he tried to kill Dostoevsky and eventually succeeded.
Therefore, there is a high probability that his plan to revive the Fedor will be successful.
***
The bright sun shone into the tiger boy's eyes. He stood up abruptly and tried to figure out what had happened last night. He looked around. Everything was in its place, as if nothing had happened, although it was a stupid question. The battle took place far from his home.
Why am I at home now? — he began when he realized that everything ended at the airport and Atsushi did not even remember how he got here.
— Oh, you're awake. — said a familiar voice coming from the window. It was Dazai. — I brought you here when you were sleeping. You collapsed.
Osamu looks as usual, without a single scratch and in his old uniform. He was sitting on the window and holding a book in his hand.
— Dazai? Weren't you arrested? - Atsushi stared in surprise, getting out of bed and throwing the blanket to the other side of the room.
— Oh, that's what you mean. - Osamu said thoughtfully, putting down his book. — they let me go.
He turned his head towards the boy and smiled carelessly.
- Let... let you go? - Atsushi asked when he saw that Dazai had returned to the book. It was no longer a book with ideas about suicide. She called herself «Dead Souls» and the boy immediately noticed it. — you are interested in foreign literature. «Dead Souls» is a very popular work.
Dazai was distracted, looked at Atsushi in surprise (as if he didn't know what he was reading), and then turned his attention to the cover of the book.
— Yes, you're right.
«He didn't know what he was reading?.. Tiger boy thought, looking at Osamu with a little disappointment. — it's not surprising in principle...»
— And what, by the way, about Akutagawa? - He put aside his thoughts about Dazai, because he remembered how that guy from the Port Mafia first died in front of a tiger, and then caught him in the form of a vampire.
— He woke up and returned to the Port Mafia. I also had to drag him to the boss to have him examined. - Osamu closed his eyes, lowering the book, while placing his finger between two pages. — by the way, the boss is waiting for you.
— From the Port Mafia?.. - Atsushi was scared. He did not want to meet with the boss of the Port Mafia itself, because as far as he remembers, he is excellent with the medical scapel and can kill the boy if he does not like something.
- what? Osamu asked and laughed so loudly that he almost fell off the window. — No, with Fukundawa. Why do you need Mori?
— Mori?
- yes. Mori Ogai. That's the name of the boss of the Port Mafia, the one you were afraid of.
— Oh, why would he need me? - Atsushi asked, concentrating on the conversation and resting his hands on the floor.
— He thanks all the employees of the Armed Detective Agency, gives them a medal and some chocolates.
Dazai smiled broadly, closed the book and took out a medal from his pocket. It was a gold medal with Dazai in the center and the place where he works in a circle. There are ribbons on top of the medal, so it can be hung around the neck or... Hehe…
Osamu proudly glanced at the surprised boy who was examining the gift from Fukuzawa.
— Will I have such a medal too? - tiger asked after half a minute.
— Yes, with your image. By the way, will you give me the chocolates? - Dazai asked enthusiastically, falling from the windowsill and approaching Atsushi's face with his own.
— Yes, no problem. Tiger hesitated, scratching his head and looking away.
— Thank you, — Osamu moved away a few centimeters and then asked, putting the medal around his neck, lifting the edge of the ribbon up. — Do you think this ribbon will be enough to hang yourself?
«I recognize Dazai, - Atsushi thought to himself, »
- Let's ask Kunikida about this?
— Well okay. Oh, he's just calling. - Dazai said a second before his phone vibrated in his pocket.
— Hello, Dazai, where is Atsushi?! - Kunikida immediately shouted into the phone so that Dazai stretched out his hand forward, just so as not to damage his hearing from his screams.
— We're on our way. Osamu smiled, putting the phone to his ear and hanging up. -Atsushi, if we don't hurry, Kunikida won't answer my question. Let's go quickly!
Osamu jumped from the window directly onto the street. Atsushi got scared, got up from his knees and leaned on the window frame with lightning speed to see Dazai. Fortunately, nothing happened to Dazai, so the tiger quickly dressed and rushed to the exit.
The guys were walking along the road to the office of the Detective Agency and Atsushi was looking around all the time. «It's strange, - he thought. — there was some kind of rout in the world, and everyone walks as if nothing had happened...
And indeed, everyone walks as if nothing had happened. Someone is walking with heavy bags, someone is running after a naughty five-year-old child, and someone is walking with friends with a cocktail in hand.
— Run, you fool. Atsushi was heard sharply, and he stopped and began to look around with a worried expression on his face. Dazai noticed this, of course.
- What is it, Atsushi? - Osamu asked, also stopping and looking at the tiger with incomprehension.
Nakajima looked around nervously for a few more seconds, and then looked at Dazai and said,
- N—no, nothing, just unpleasant memories came flooding back.
— Well, then let's go. We're almost there. Osamu said with a smile, turning away from Atsushi and walking towards the office.
- Oh, yes.
Nakajima hesitated a little and began to catch up with Dazai, sometimes looking around.
— Well, where is this suicidal Dazai?! Kunikida's cries of displeasure echoed throughout the office so that Atsushi even trembled slightly from such a loud voice.
— Well, wow. Kunikida seems to be restless from dissatisfaction. Hee-hee. - Dazai said, slightly raising his head up. - Let's go quickly, Atsushi.
Nakajima replied and was the first to rush to the stairs.
— I swear, if Dazai and Atsushi don't show up here in 5 minutes, then I will personally drown this bum! - Kunikida's screams could be heard more and more clearly.
2 seconds and Atsushi stood in the doorway of the room where he usually works. Kunikida looked with some malice at Dazai hiding behind. Ignoring the appearance of the tiger, Doppo rushed to Osamu and, holding his neck with his hands, staggered from side to side, shouting at him:
— Oh, you bum! You said you were on your way with Atsushi. Then why the hell did you come here only after 15 minutes, when it only takes 10 minutes to walk from his house?!
— Hey, Kunikida, calm down. You're angry and worried too much. This will make your memory worse, your eyesight will decrease, your bones will be more fragile, you will have migraines and headaches. - Dazai said with a painfully serious face.
— Really?
- Yeah.
Kunikida quickly released Dazai and took a pen in his hands, took out a notebook and began to write:
"do not get angry a lot, otherwise memory will deteriorate, vision will decrease, bones will be more fragile, there will be migraines and ..."
— A joke. - Dazai's grin was heard. — you fell for it again, Kunikida.
A pen cracked in the yellow-haired man's hands. She held out the longest while Osamu was in prison for the gifted.
— Yes, how fucked up you are! When will you start working normally! There should only be ideals in my notebook, and you're breaking them! Have you even read what is written on the cover of my notebook? "I-de-al», you idiot!
It was necessary to end the quarrel of these two somehow, so Atsushi took matters into his own hands and right after Kunikida uttered his phrase, the tiger asked:
— You were waiting for me for something, right? To present a medal?
Kunikida put his notebook in his pocket and left Dazai behind.
— Yes, the boss hands them over personally. - He adjusted his glasses. - that's why he sent Dazai after you. Go to the boss.
— Good!
Nakajima left, and Kunikida sat down at his desk and continued to work. Dazai sprawled on the floor for a while and soon also sat down at his workplace, continuing to read a book.
***
A tall male figure abruptly appeared in an empty alley. Gogol, in disguise, began to search for information to carry out his plan.
It was a rather dark alley, where people could be seen very rarely and then only for a second, because everyone tried to avoid this place, but not Gogol. It was in this alley that his first destination was located. Yukio Mishima LibraryThis is a Japanese writer who invented his life and death as a play and played the main role in it. «This is exactly what you need,- Nikolai thought and entered this small library. »
Inside it was quite empty and small: Several bookcases that were located along the edges. The first thing the visitor sees is a window, and in front of it is a small wooden table, at which an elderly woman is sitting. This librarian was small in stature. With small round glasses that were held only on the tip of his nose and looked like they were about to fall off. White hair, neatly gathered in a bun. The old woman was wearing a knee-length green dress and a dark green short-sleeved sweater, and on her feet were black tights and matching black shoes with a golden flower in the middle.
— You don't see many visitors here. — she began when she heard a bell attached above the door to know when visitors had come or gone. - this isn't ordinary literature, boy. That's why you probably won't find anything you really need here.
— Did you think that I was just here? — covering his left side of his face with his hand, the masked Nikolai began, slightly lowering his head down. Then he abruptly picked her up, smiled wryly and looked down at the old woman, as if he was ready to kill her on the spot; here and now.
— Fine, then choose what your heart desires. She muttered hoarsely and went about her business. She picked up a magazine and a pencil, sat down at an old and decrepit chair and began to tweet something in the magazine, sometimes leaning the pencil against her lips.
Gogol was even slightly surprised, because usually such actions cause people to panic and they feel that Nikolai is threatening them, so they do everything to prevent this from happening. But this old lady is different. She reminds Gogol of someone.
— That's right, Dostoevsky ... — Gogol whispered, without removing his hand from his face and lowering his head down, without removing a crooked and intimidating smile. — Yes…
Dostoevsky never treated Gogol with all seriousness, although he took part in his games with joy. Like then. He respected Nikolai and sometimes took him really for his friend, as Gogol called him. Nikolai smiled.
He walked through the bookshelves, which were located close and did not even have to take 5 steps, as you immediately look at the books opposite. «What books are there? Gogol began to reflect, reading the title of each. »
«Soul after death,»Hieromonk Seraphim (Rose), «Peering into the sun. Life without fear of death», Irwin Yalom, «Chronicles of Charon. Encyclopedia of Death», Alexander Lavrin, «Nothing to be afraid of», Julian Barnes, «When I die. Lessons learned from the Territory of Death», Philip Gould, «When smoke obscures the eyes», Caitlin Doughty, «When breath disappears into the air. Sometimes fate doesn't care that you're a doctor», Paul Kalaniti, «It's beautiful to leave. Amazing funeral Rites from different countries», Caitlin Doughty, «Proof of Life After Death», Jeffrey Long, «Die to Wake Up», Rajiv Parti, «The Morning After Loss», Bob Dates, «About Death and Dying», Elizabeth Kubler-Ross, «When I Was Dying", William Faulkner, «Pestilence, the Disciple of Death», Terry Pratchett, «The Plague», Albert Camus.
Most of these books had reflections on death, yes, they are interesting, but they are not suitable for Gogol. Taking them is not the best idea. He went up to the old woman:
- Dear woman, - he said with a slight bow, - can you tell me something?
His voice sounded sweet, which would make any young girl fall in love with him and eventually become his puppet. A doll.
- What happened, grandson? Madame looked up from her magazine with a trace of displeasure.
- are there any books here about the rebirth of a man from that world?
- No, sir, we don't have that. - She looked at Nikolai with a bit of surprise.
- Then why do you have a library named after Yukio Mishima, let me ask you.
- Oh, you know. He inspired me in childhood, making it clear that you can write your own life script and live by it. To be a free bird and not depend on anyone or anything. Only from myself. Therefore, this is the name, and the books here are only about death and connection with the world of the dead, but not about resurrection. I'm sorry.
The old lady really appreciated Yukio Mishima, because when she talked about him, her old eyes, surrounded by wrinkles, shone, and her hands trembled, but she was not connected with freedom.
- Yes? Well, it's very sad. Nikolai muttered, slightly lowering his head down. - Then let me take my leave.
- We are waiting for you again. The old woman smiled.
Gogol turned away and used his ability to take out a folding knife and moved it into the neck of an elderly woman, making a huge incision. A stream of blood poured out of the wound. There was blood on the window, yellow, ruined wallpaper and a table with a chair. The body crashed down and after 2 seconds was half covered in blood.
And Nikolai, as if nothing had happened, left the library and continued his search.