Angsty bsd short stories. (Majority is not all.)

If It was me instead of you.

Ango stood at the edge of the river, his eyes fixed on the rushing water. He couldn't help but think of Odasaku, his closest friend and the only person who ever truly understood him. But Odasaku was gone now, taken by the Mafia and lost to the world forever.

Tears threatened to spill from Ango's eyes as he thought of all the times they had spent together, all the laughs and tears they had shared. He had never felt as close to anyone as he had to Odasaku, and now that he was gone, Ango felt more alone than ever before.

He blamed himself for Odasaku's death, for not being there to protect him when he needed him the most. He should have done more, should have fought harder to keep him safe. But now it was too late, and all Ango had left were memories and regrets.

As he stood there, lost in his thoughts, he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see Dazai, his former mentor and fellow member of the Armed Detective Agency, looking at him with concern.

"Ango, are you okay?" Dazai asked, his voice soft and gentle.

Ango shook his head, unable to find the words to express the pain he was feeling.

Dazai nodded, understanding the depth of his friend's sorrow. "I miss him too," he said. "But we have to keep going, for Odasaku's sake. We have to make sure his sacrifice was not in vain."

Ango looked up at Dazai, grateful for his words of comfort. He knew that Dazai had also lost someone close to him, and that he understood the pain of grief and loss.

Together, they stood by the river, watching the water flow by. And for a brief moment, Ango felt a glimmer of hope that maybe, just maybe, he could find a way to move on from the pain of Odasaku's death.

But deep down, he knew that the ache in his heart would never truly go away. Odasaku would always be with him, in his memories and in his dreams. And that thought, while bittersweet, gave Ango some measure of comfort as he faced the long road ahead.

Ango sat alone in his small apartment, surrounded by books and papers. He had thrown himself into his work, trying to distract himself from the pain of Odasaku's loss. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't escape the memories that haunted him day and night.

He picked up a pen and began to write, pouring his thoughts and feelings onto the page. The words came easily, almost as if they had a life of their own. He wrote about the good times he had shared with Odasaku, the laughter and the tears, the long conversations that lasted into the night.

But as he wrote, the pain of loss became too much to bear. He put down the pen and buried his face in his hands, sobbing uncontrollably.

He missed Odasaku so much, it felt like a physical ache in his chest. He had never known grief like this before, and he didn't know how to deal with it.