Yozo knew he was the main character of his story. If nothing else, he knew he was important. A lot goes into thinking that way. That's why it makes me ever so sad to see that Dazai never realized his own courage. Yozo isn't perfect but he knows it. He points out all the absurdities of this universe, how wrong people are and how unfair life can be. But all along, he talks about his incapability. He's never denied the fact that he was the bad guy, the real evil, the monster. Like Dostoevsky's Raskolnikov, very much like him in fact, Yozo carried more guilt in him than life. You begin to question if there was any way to save him.

I had realized early on that there was only so much I could do with my life. This sounds ridiculous to people when I mention it, purely accidentally of course. Yesterday I was called "blessed", today, "perfect".

This is nothing new. I've been called various things, people refuse to believe I could even be real. Genius, alien, vampire, god...the list goes on. I am no longer human. I've long given up struggling to protect my normalcy. Truth is, there is no other normal that I could be. Were I to relive my life, I would still choose this misery. I have never wanted to be happy, that's what I believe. I don't think there's anything particularly wrong with that either.

I kept wandering around like an idiot after I came back from the training camp. I absolutely couldn't stand my home, I was sick of answering the same questions over and over again. All the conversations always ended the same way. I began to skip school very often, which was a rare thing for me. Some of my friends believed I was still in military. I didn't go back for the next two months. I considered running away to become a vagabond because I liked my life like this. There was no reason for why I never did it. Probably because I'm a coward.

When I did go back, I told people "the military couldn't handle me". This worked like a charm, people laughed, didn't ask anymore. I was in my first year of high school, then. School's always been a terrible place for me, it exhausts me beyond measure. On the bright side, it lets me see so much. I'm the kind that loves watching people. Holmes never did impress me. Reading people was as easy as pie. Some people would bore me to death, others would always bring a new annoyance. To be honest, I could care less for humans. I feel like I'm just sitting outside, watching a movie, separate from them all. It can get lonely. But it didn't.

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I remember he was a third year in my school. I'd seen him around a couple of times but there'd never been an occasion for talking. I can't remember most of what he looked like. I never knew his name. Funny, isn't it? One day, a teacher wouldn't get off my case so I was a bit late going home. That teacher was a nice guy and I had nothing against him. So on my way home, I just got to thinking about what he'd said but I realized I could barely remember the bits and pieces. Then I got to thinking about the cigarette he was smoking and just like that, I stopped on a little bridge, thinking about the smoke and all.

That's when this guy came up to me. I don't know when and what he had said but then he told me a joke and that was funny. He told me he'd seen me getting an earful from the teacher. He suggested I should get myself in a club.

"No way. If I have to join a club, I'll make my own."

"Great. Well, hit me up any time you do it", he left after that.

I don't think I'd have made a club but I did. And then I did invite him. But there could be no club with just two people so it got shut down. I would have thought this was all over. But then he invited me to join a club. I wouldn't have, but I did.

I shouldn't have...probably. This guy is the protagonist of my story. You see, I'm the kind of person who isn't even the main character of their own story. I'd always be a side character, I've known it all along. I'm not like Yozo. I'm not important. And I kill all the important people.