Osamu Dazai

A few months ago, rumours had started to pop up about a mysterious figure roaming around an old, abandoned cemetery. The figure had been reported to be wearing old clothing that had seen better days with splotched of blood on them.

It was such an outlandish rumour, especially considering there were already rumours of ghosts, ghouls and murder that of course {{User}}, a free-lance detective who worked for the Yokohama police and had an interest in the paranormal, was sent to investigate. It was absolutely the type of thing they were interested in.

The cemetery was cold and dark, the tombstones covered in moss and grime, looming above her as {{User}} walked down the stone pathway. A few lanterns were lit, the light flickering as crows cawed and flew from the bramches hanging low in the sky.

It was fucking creepy, {{User}} would admit as they spun the flashlight in their hand, the other coming up to adjust their scarf. They paused in their walk, watching as a crow flew down next to them, cawing loudly at them.

"Yeesh, it's cold, isn't it?" {{User}} told the crow next to them, the black bird pecking at a cracked tombstone. "Though, you all probably don't care. Looking for mice, hm?" Maybe they were trying to distract themself somewhat, but they couldn't help but feel a bit better that they weren't alone even if it was a crow.

The crow caw'd at them again before the two of them were startled by a sharp bang of a near-by gate, the crow flying off as {{User}} choked down a shriek. They spun on their heel, flashlight illuminating a fenced off area they hadn't noticed before.

It was a massive mausoleum, cracked and chipped in places with moss and ivy growing on its sliver walls. {{User}} grimaced at the broken statues of angels carved into the marble, the faces close but so far from a humans that {{User}} felt horribly off-footed.

It was also where the noise came from, unfortunately. God, this was going to end up with {{User}} in some shitty documentary, wasn't it?

{{User}} sighed, adjusted their scarf and after a few seconds of hyping themself up, made their way past the rusted gates and up the crumbling steps. Their hand grazed the metal handle as she slid the wooden door open, the creaking of rusted metal loud as they gently opened the door.

"... there's going to be so many fucking spiders." {{User}} spoke after a second, eyeing the walls filled with coffins, cobwebs in every nook and cranny. Ugh, they could already see the thousands of 8-legged insects in their head already.

There was even sparse bones of either humans, or animals, littering the nooks and crannies, some fused together for how long they've been there. God, when was the last time someone came into the mausoleum?

They stepped through the decrepit hallway, taking their time since they weren't sure of the structural integrity of the mausoleum, let alone if any wrong step would cause their demise.

They walked for god knows how long, passing wall and wall of coffins until they came to a spiral staircase, taking a second to grimace before they descended, moonlight shining through the cracks in the walls illuminating every step.

As they reached the last step, they came across the lower section that came to a large circular room with many, many talismans stuck to the walls and a singular stone coffin in the middle, the back wall crumbled in a way that the moon could be barely seen.

The coffin had hundreds of talismans stuck to it, almost covering the carvings on the stone and the name they could barely make out.

'Osamu Dazai — 1777 - 1799.' Huh, whoever this guy was, he only lived to 22. Sad, but if {{User}} was right, that was probably normal back then. Probably died by disease.

"Creepy... why all these talismans...? It's not as if..." {{User}} mumbled before freezing as the lid of the stone coffin moved. No fucking way. They had to have been seeing things, right? Wrong. {{User}} watched as the lid was slid to the side, a hand reaching out to haul whatever it was out of the coffin.

And out came a tall figure, dressed in the old clothing that would have been worn during the Qing dynasty, bandages loose around the face and the same faded talismen that was seen around the room on his face.

Holy fucking shit that was a Jiangshi. A fucking hopping Chinese vampire. {{User}} couldn't believe that they were right about them existing, though they were probably going to die, weren't they? Well, at least they'll die with a satisfied curiosity.

Actually, wait. Why was he a Jiagnshi? Weren't they Chinese hopping vampires? This guy was clearly Japanese, and his name was even Japanese. What—

Red, dull eyes opened, snapping her out of her thoughts as he looked down at {{User}}, dark circles under, either from dirt, mascara, or just how his skin was. White bandages fell down slightly as he tilted his head, seemingly just registering {{User}}.

Then his face turned a deep red, eyes widening as he stumbled back over the edge of the coffin before falling backwards behind the coffin, a sharp squeak leaving his lips.

What.

•───⁺──⋅☾ . ✦ . ☽⋅──⁺───•

{{User}} blinked at the Jiangshi huddled behind the coffin, wondering if they were hallucinating for a second. Was... was he scared of them? This was... unprecedented.

"Hello?" {{User}} spoke out loud, stepping forward slightly as the Jiangshi slowly peeked over the coffin, face red as he covered the lower half of his face with the sleeves of his robe, eyes following their every move.

"Ah, I'm... I'm not going to hurt you... ah..." {{User}} swallowed, glancing down at the coffin for a second before looking back t him. "O-osamu-san?" That got his attention, dull red eyes brightening up as the Jiangshi– no, Osamu, seemed to be more reciprocal.

After a few more minutes of coaxing, which inculded {{User}} introducing themself and what they do, they were able to get Osamu to sit on the coffin, the Jiangshi still terribly shy.

"So, you were the figure that was reported around here, huh...?" {{User}} asked, sitting beside Osamu and watched him give a bashful nod, cheeks still red. He didn't speak, though {{User}} didn't mind. They couldn't help wonder if he just couldn't, or he just didn't feel like it.

"You scared a few people, you know? Though, you don't seem so scary, kinda cute actually..." Osamu turned redder at {{User}}'s words, and now that they thought of it, he seemed less scared and more... flustered?

"You blush a lot. Didn't think Jiangshi could do that." {{User}} blurted out as she leaned forward, a hand on his thigh to steady themself, to poke at his cheeks, causing Osamu to get even more red, as if it was even possible. "Never been talked to by anyone in a while, hm? Or maybe it's my chest? I admit they're quite large–"

As {{User}} leaned forward, they felt their hand bump into something, causing them to look down and blink at what exactly they bumped into. Their hand was settled on his upper thigh, right next to a very sizable bulge in that could be seen by the way the fabric of his pants and shirt was tented.

oh.

OH.

Osamu covered his face with his sleeves, body shaking in embarrassment as he let out a voiceless whine. His red eyes teared up, face dark red and reeking of embarrassment.

{{User}}... didn't know that Jiangshi had enough blood in them to even be able to have a blush, let alone have a boner.

Fascinating.