[Wen Ye] Hell changes

Dostoevsky was waiting for him here alone.

After hesitating for a while, he asked, "Where's the manager?"

Everyone here is gone, only Dostoyevsky is left, and the atmosphere is frighteningly quiet.

Dostoevsky turned to fetch him hot water, and replied casually, "It's in the refrigerator."

There was a convulsion in Akutagawa's hand that took the water glass. Although there was no change in his facial expression, this obvious change that was not even worthy of being called a small movement could not escape Tosi's eyes.Dostoevsky made him sit there, then squatted halfway in front of him, looking up at him.It was clearly an action to flatter and show weakness, but the smile on his face was unfathomable.

"Let me tell you something, okay?"

Akutagawa looked down at him, holding the warm water cup in his hand, and blinked suspiciously.

"Before you came, I planned to get rid of everyone here today."

"Does it mean to kill them all?" Akutagawa asked with blank eyes, frowning.

His hair has not been trimmed for many days, and the bangs on his forehead are of the right length and full shape, gently covering his knotted brows, only revealing the beautiful linear brow bone, which just fits for him The facial features that reveal emotions are partially hidden.What is his mood at this moment can only be guessed through his eyes and tone of voice.

"I have collected all the information I want, and I am tired of the daily observation process, so boring." As if coquettishly raised the end voice, "There is nothing more boring than this." Then deliberately reversed: "Before you show up ,Is such that."

"Really?" Akutagawa murmured, not knowing who he was asking.

Dostoevsky smiled at the rippled surface of the cup in Akutagawa's hand.He didn't look at the mustard river in front of him, but looked at the reflection of the mustard river in the cup.Akutagawa felt his gaze from the corner of his eye, and the entire area of ​​his slender neck was dyed red.The surface of the water faithfully reflected Akutagawa Ryunosuke's somewhat hesitant, repelling, but full of expectation eyes.

"don't know."

Akutagawa likes to tell Tuosi that he doesn't understand.Whether it was playing poker, or chatting in ordinary times, or Dostoevsky pretending to be mystical about doctrines to him, Akutagawa would directly say that I didn't understand.

When there were too many customers in the store, Dostoevsky liked to talk about mysticism; when there were fewer people, he talked about communism.How strange, a piano, and communism.Every time Akutagawa Ryunosuke wondered if there was something wrong with Dostoevsky's brain, but it was difficult to say it directly, after all, he still wanted to hear about these topics.He enjoyed reading Selected Works of Mao with Dostoyevsky.

Dostoyevsky is knowledgeable, reads a lot, speaks eloquently, and thinks naturally. Whenever he and Dostoyevsky read the same book next to each other, Akutagawa will be deeply intoxicated by it. Humbly accept the other party's knowledge and insights, and at the same time, silently, as if it is a convention, and get closer to the other party.When it was no longer possible to ignore the distance, he blushed suddenly, and hurriedly opened the distance between the two, fearing that if they got closer, their lips would touch each other.

What Akutagawa doesn't know is that it's as if Dostoevsky appeared in his dreams again and again, as if Dostoevsky's words and eyes passed by in his thoughts one after another Similarly, his own figure will also hover and circle in Dostoyevsky's world, splashing nine songs and ten chapters of tenderness, and revealing the aftertaste of nightmares or sweet dreams.In this long love affair, they tacitly left each other with heart-wrenching and perfectly packaged flashbacks.

Dostoevsky said that his family traced back to the Red Army who insisted on materialism, so he received a red and professional education since he was a child, and he might say a lot of things that Akutagawa didn't like. Welcome to talk to him discuss together.At this time, Akutagawa would stare blankly at him, at his handsome face, at his mysterious expression, without saying a word for a long time.

Perhaps to enliven the atmosphere, Dostoevsky would pick up the topic himself at this time: "But it doesn't matter if you hate me just because of that. The most vicious things are often the ones that save the world, and the most harmful things It is often those self-proclaimed noble things. The times are advancing, and the methods must also change, right? If my ancestors had the phenomenon of overflowing supernatural powers, then I will definitely not stand in front of you now, because if that is the case, The Second World War was enough to wipe out the human race. I am deeply honored and blessed for that. Thanks to this, I can now stand in front of you, talk to you, and breathe with you. To be born and I am very happy to meet you...By the way, my grandfather died during the Russo-Japanese War. Are you listening?"

"No."

"Okay, then I will continue."

Akutagawa was tired of listening, closed his eyes and leaned against the back of the chair and wanted to fall asleep, of course he didn't really want to sleep, but just wanted to embarrass Dostoyevsky, deliberately pretending that I won't respect you no matter what you say In fact, he noticed what Dostoevsky was saying and doing.I don't know if Dostoyevsky saw through his little thoughts, or if he really didn't care about it at all, and didn't blame him, but just gently touched his face, and if he was in a good mood, he would give him a little kiss. Kiss, say "have a good rest", and then walk away, leaving Ryunosuke Akutagawa alone in the empty house.

Akutagawa slowly opened his eyes after he left, staring at the ceiling endlessly in a daze.

Akutagawa did not express any attitude towards the way Dostoyevsky always left like this every time. Between the two of them, Dostoevsky usually left first, and then Akutagawa sat alone for a long time before leaving, because Dostoevsky hated Akutagawa going first.Once Akutagawa received a message from Higuchi, saying that Mori Ogai had something to tell him, he stood up and wanted to leave, but Dostoevsky directly pressed him on the seat, stared at him with a very bad expression and said: " don't go."

Akutagawa looked at him in surprise.Because he was pressed on the chair, Akutagawa could only look up at him: "Why?"

"If you want to go, I will let you meet God now." Dostoevsky warned with a smile.

"It's time for you to listen to The Internationale."

"Stay here, I'll sing it to you."

Akutagawa was helpless.But he didn't expressly intend to oppose Dostoevsky, so he sat down obediently.

He had no intention of killing Dostoevsky.He himself didn't know why.By chance, he thought of this question and couldn't help but ask, "Aren't you afraid that I'll kill you?"

Dostoyevsky adjusted the positions of the pieces on the chessboard, and replied confidently without raising his head: "No."

"Why so sure?"

"Because you're in love with me."

Akutagawa showed a sad expression: "Please don't say such things."

"Why not?"

"Very rude."

"Sorry, excuse my rudeness. I'll rephrase it. You're in the process of falling in love with me."

"What difference does it make? Is that all you want me to love you?"

So Dostoyevsky also made a rare sad look, adding sadness to his brows and eyes: "Look, the mountains are kissing the blue sky, and the waves are embracing each other... Who has ever seen that flowers cannot tolerate each other, and sisters despise brothers?" The sun is hugging the earth tightly, and the moon is kissing the sea waves... But what's the point of these kisses? If you won't kiss me?"

Akutagawa punched him hard in the stomach.

"Destroy you on behalf of Shelley."

"I was wrong." He answered with a wry smile while clutching his stomach.

This is Akutagawa and his daily communication pattern.Just in front of a piano, and then a cup of tea or a glass of wine can start.Akutagawa always thought it was weird, even weird, but he always cooperated with Dostoevsky to the end, so that he began to wonder if he was really emotional.Because he really thinks of Dostoevsky anytime and anywhere.

The same is true now.

Akutagawa directly said "I don't understand", and Dostoevsky didn't mind.He smiled slightly, stood up, and slowly took the seat opposite Akutagawa.A cello was placed next to it at some unknown time.

"Do you like Mozart?"

"heard about it."

"Variations on a Rococo Theme." Dostoevsky picked up the cello at his feet. "It was written in the style of Mozart. Do you know who the composer is?"

"don't know."

"Tchaikovsky." He still didn't mind Akutagawa's perfunctory answer, "The tune is similar to Mozart's works, and it also perfectly reflects Tchaikovsky's unique artistic personality. If you want to understand Russian music, It must be appreciated.”

"I'm not in the mood to appreciate it."

"Don't want to hear?"

"I don't want to hear other people play."

"What if it's me?"

"please."

"I wanted to play the second variation for you, but this part requires the cooperation between the cello and the orchestra to form a musical rhythm of mutual questions and answers, which cannot be played by one person. This effect sounds It was like a friendly conversation between friends. We're not friends, and you can't play the cello, so I changed my mind," he explained.

"Then where is what you are playing now?"

"The third variation." He paused for a moment with his hand, then opened his eyes and looked at Akutagawa, bending a sad smile: "Romantic and sad love song."

Akutagawa nodded, but did not answer.

"Why did you choose this variation?" Akutagawa asked.

"Because there's no other choice."

"There will be no choice. Everything you do is a choice you have prepared for a long time."

"But the moment I chose this variation, there was no other possibility."

"You can choose to take back your cello. You will always have a choice."

"And I chose you."

There was silence again between the two.

Silence is not meaningless, and sometimes exudes an indescribable charm on certain occasions and times.If I had to use a metaphor, Victoria Hislop made a comparison not long ago, silence is like the most beautiful and fragile soap bubble when it rises into the air, clear and colorful, but it is better not to touch it.

Ryunosuke Akutagawa sat quietly opposite Dostoevsky, listening to the vocal music he played, watching his intoxicated expression, once again felt that the irritability and suicidal mood was gradually filled .Dostoevsky was able to heal his unstable state every time.Doctors call it a mood disorder.Only by staying with Dostoyevsky can he completely shed his status as a patient and become an ordinary person who needs tender words and sensual entertainment.

He has not been an ordinary person for too long, so long that he has almost forgotten that he is just an ordinary person, and those people around him, whether it is Osamu Dazai or whoever, have never respected his identity as a human being, Or the relationship point is over, and he can no longer go deep into his world.

He is a mafia, a killer, but the premise of all this is that he has to be a person.Human beings need to be healed and cared for, otherwise they will not be able to survive. No one can spend nearly 100 years of their life in pain. Human beings who do not need healing and caring for tens of thousands of days are not human beings. possibly exists.At least he couldn't.

So Akutagawa Ryunosuke sat there motionless, with tears streaming down his eyes.He didn't wipe away his tears, nor did he make a sobbing sound, he just let them slide down slowly, sitting there without moving as if his soul had been taken away.

At this time, the color of the opposite hospital building began to turn red, and it burned in an instant.It is not known who set the fire there, perhaps it was Dostoevsky, but at this moment the fire suddenly broke out.

The sea of ​​fire that formed a flowing jungle quietly cut off the boundary between Guanshan outside the city and the city. Both of them faintly glowed bright ocher red in the spread of the sea of ​​fire, which was deeply embedded in the night sky with drizzle The walls of the buildings and houses are hidden.

Dostoyevsky played the cello unmoved.The two were sitting by the window, so each other's eyes were dyed red under the firelight that was close at hand.Dostoevsky's warm palms also danced with orange-red light, dancing with his movements of pulling the strings.

The hot flashes are getting stronger and stronger, and it has reached the point where it cannot be ignored. Then Akutagawa slowly turned his head to look at the opposite side, and found that the whole sky was like a shark with a mouth full of blood, and there were shoals of miscellaneous fish that were bitten, killed and devoured by it. It exudes a deadly smell of gunpowder smoke and blood.The rain was too gentle and slow to have any real effect on the fire, as if it was destined that no one could stop this tragic disaster, it was like a flame blooming in the cool sea bottom.

hit song.Fire in the sea.

Dostoevsky raised a smile intoxicated by music, and sent the music from the trembling strings to Tianxin with his bow.The timbre is beautiful, the rhythm is bitter, and the melody is romantic.

Falling into the abyss of slumber, gracefully smiles and bestows death.

"Can you understand what I want to express in the music?"

"don't know."

"That's right. Every time you say something you don't understand, but I will definitely continue. Do you know the reason?"

"Because you're bored."

"No...it's because..."

After playing the piano, he put down the bow and met Ryunosuke Akutagawa's eyes. The corners of his mouth turned up slowly, and a smile flowed from the corners of his eyes and brows.

"You were my accident."

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The author has something to say:

Thank you for your comments!Many people are speculating about the relationship between Tuo and Jie, but most of them are biased that Yu Tuo is cheating and playing with Jiechuan. In fact, I did have this plan at the beginning, and wrote the relationship between the two as a mirror, a scene. A scam, but if you think about it carefully, where is the need for this?So I gave up.

Why should we alarm love?