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Dazai had been out for hours now.

I didn't care.

In fact, my day was much better without him.

Stupid idiot. I do not care about him. If he were to leave the port mafia, I'd drink until I was sad. And that would take a lot of bottles.

Dazai is stupid.

I do not like Dazai.

I smiled, but it quickly fell when he stumbled back into the headquarters.

Damnit! I was just so glad.

"Well, where've you been, asshole?" I grunted.
"I was enjoying myself."

"Out."

"Where?"

"I was just out."

"For nearly four hours?"

"Yes."

"Cut the shit, Osamu."

"I was."

"Not."

"I was."

"Whatever. I don't care about what your suicidal ass does."

He stayed quiet.

I did not care.

I do not like Osamu.

He is a bastard.

I turned around, and paused for a moment.
That promise I made him make.

Am I taking it back?

I hope I do. What was I thinking that day?

I do not care. Osamu is a fool.

I walked away, with a grunt at his lack of response. His silence was something I didn't like.

I did not like the idea of a nice Osamu.

A sweet, cookie-making Osamu.

Is something that would haunt me forever, if he were to switch up and turn into that.

I shook the thought away. It chilled me. Psh. Dazai. Nice, in what world?

I refused to look back. I do not like Dazai. He is a moron! A moron, a stupid moron! He does not deserve the least bit of care, nor sympathy from me! And I will never have it, nor would I ever show it to the bastard!

The only thing I could do, was keep walking. So I did. Gladly.

I do not want to see his face ever again.

But I did.

Unfortunately.

"And, Chuuya, tomorrow, you'll have a mission with Dazai. You'll both have to find a valuable item, lost by the port mafia, long ago. We have managed to find its traces, and it'll be obvious what it is."
Mori smiled.

"What? Why him?! He's a-"

"I do not want to hear it."

"But I-"

"Hate him, yes, yes, Nakahara, I am fully aware."

I grunted, crossing my arms with irritation.
"Fine. I will work with the fool, one more time."

"Thank you for your cooperation, Chuuya."

So the next day was the worst of all.

He was getting taller. Of course he was. And it seemed like I had shrunk.

one last drink? : skk angstWhere stories live. Discover now