Stop Using Me {suna x uke male}

Chp: 37

(M/N) stared blankly at his desk. Eyes locked on his secret compartment, wondering if he should just open it.

He no longer had Suna -for the time being- to keep him busy with his boredom.

Koda was locked up, he wouldn't be able to freely talk to them.

Aran hated him, the feeling was mutual.

The twin's were annoying, even though he did enjoy teaching Osamu how to cook.

Kita was the leader, he was busy.

And the others... he rarely talked to them.

He took a deep breath, steadying his heart rate as he slowly got up. He walked to his desk and opened the locked compartment. He reached for it.

The journal.

The one he found when he wanted to get drunk.

The one that belonged to Jay... an unconscious Jay that is.

His fingertips grazed the top of the old cover, it slowly looked run down and depleted. He opened to the first page, not much was written.

In fact, he just had a bunch of letters scrambled together. He raised an eyebrow, was it a secret message? A code? Was this why his file practically said his journal was useless.

(M/N) went to his lamp, he picked it up and turned it over. He flipped the switch and faced back on Jay's journal. He had used purple LED lights, now seeing actual things written.

It was just his name and the Mafia he stated himself in, Suna's mafia.

He had a date written as well.

July 15th, 2009.

"This was before he joined... maybe there's secrets." (M/N) mumbled to himself.

He locked his bedroom door and sat at his desk, hearing the wind outside his balcony. He adjusted his lamp to a better angle and kept his fan light off, keeping only an ounce of light in his room. He turned the page.

Jay's Journal: July 27th, 2009.

I've had this journal for almost two weeks, never finding anything worth while to write... now I have something.

Dexter Ishinok, an American who took the title of leader. Who in the right mind would give it to that psycho? If anyone found out what he is doing, our whole system could fail. Inarizaki could demolish. No one would even know we would exist.

He's like the villain in this timeline. 

(M/N) raised a brow, "No context yet? Page one done? Sounds just like him," He gave a dry bitter chuckle, "the fuck did you get yourself into?"

Jay's Journal: August 1st, 2009.

I'm mortified.

We were never about drugs... never about killing... never about weapons. We wanted to be better. We wanted the world. We wanted peace.

But not to this extent.

Dexter -that no good piece of shit bastard- has taken our great name to the ground, down below our future graves. This man is wanted.

I killed my first person today, and I liked it. I hate myself for it. This isn't -wasn't- me.

How could he just make us into killing machines? He wants us doing his dirty work, keeping his stained hands free, keeping them clean. He'll make us rot.

I'll make him pay.

"Where have I heard that name Dexter before?" (M/N) clicked his tongue, skimming through most pages and stopping on the ones he thought would be useful to his job.