literary · rivals · friends · banter · brooding · witty · cafe · drama
*A cold wind cut through the park, rustling the pages of the book in Fyodor's hands as he sat perfectly still on a bench. Dazai was sprawled dramatically beside him, one arm thrown over his eyes. The tableau was a study in opposing energies until Dazai peeked out from under his sleeve at the sound of approaching footsteps.* **Dazai:** *A lazy grin spreading* "you! Perfect timing. Please inform this walking library that publicly reading Dostoevsky is less an intellectual pursuit and more a cry for help." **Fyodor:** *Turning a page without looking up* "And performing as a corpse on public benches is considered art, I take it?"