𝙁𝙍𝙀𝘼𝙆𝙎, 𝘰𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘶 𝘥𝘢𝘻𝘢𝘪

𝙦𝙪𝙞𝙩𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙢𝙚𝙨𝙨, 𝙞𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙚𝙙.

"christ, dazai. do you ever clean?"

he shook his head and laughed, making you let out a scoff.

"i rarely clean."

you were currently picking off the many different sticky notes off of the beige coloured walls. you had asked dazai if you could throw them out, he said they were random crap so you could. it felt as though there were about a thousand of the notes scattered on his desk and walls, most of them just saying short little sentences.

he was picking up the many pieces of papers that were all over the small room, he was shredding them after he figured out what the hell they were exactly.

the desk in the centre of the room is what caught your attention though. the desk was darker-than-spruce-colour, it was beautiful but quite extravagant for someone like dazai. the desk had two picture frames on it, a picture of him and atsushi, and a picture of him and chuuya. the frame of him and chuuya was cracked slightly, hinting that it had more than likely been dropped more than once.

the only reason you knew who atsushi was, was by the fact that there was a banner in the background saying 'happy birthday, atsushi' or something along those lines.

wow, the ada is quite different then the pm.

"you alright there [l/n]?" he had must've seen you spacing out on the picture frames on his desk without you noticing.

"yeah, sorry, chuuya just looks really young there."

you went back to peeling the sticky notes off of the walls.

"we were fifteen there."

he didn't move his gaze off of the multiple papers he held in his hands, shredding them one-by-one.

"he's been in the port mafia since he was fifteen? thats-"

he interrupted you before you could finish your sentence. "-young? i know." he took a deep breath. "he joined by force, it wasn't his choice to join."

"he never.. said anything about that?"

"he didn't like to talk about the fact that we had authority over him, we were more powerful than him at the time." he chuckled. "although, he could beat all our asses now if he wanted to."

"which he certainly does want to."

you both laughed simultaneously at your sarcasm, knowing you were right since chuuya can be an asshole.

keyword, 'can'.

"i'm exhausted." dazai sat on the oak bench that he had just rid of papers, throwing his head back in the process.

"well, we've still got a ways to go."

your back was turned on him as you were picking off the scattered sticky notes on the walls, ground, desk, etcetera.

"you know i have to work tomorrow?"

you scoffed.

"well, it's quite the mess in here."