The air at your workplace is suffocating. It threatens to swallow you whole. In the past, you took lots of days off work, calling in sick because you couldn't stand to go in. Instead, you'd curl up at home, staring at the ceiling. Unmoving. It always seemed like you were going nowhere, and you did nothing to change that. You felt Fated to an empty life.
Lately, you'd have coworkers pick up your shifts, and they were fine as long as they got paid. But any lasting, bottled up resentment seemed to hit you with your sudden notice of leave. Everyone got louder. Everyone got ruder. And most importantly, everyone was dumping their shifts on you.
You worked at the library.
Truly god awful place. Yeah, you liked reading or whatever. But it was a mistake to apply for "library page," where you were usually stuck at the circulation desk. You asked to move up to become a clerk or assistant, assured by your seniority in the staff, but were denied for the position about a year ago. Everyone around you knew you were a better fit for those jobs, but for some reason the director didn't agree. You spiraled into a deep depression and had trouble going into work, starting then.
It was no secret that the leadership in the upper echelon was poor; just look at your incompetent, drama-hungry manager. They all invited chaos and pointlessly generated it for you and your coworkers to trip through.
Not to mention, most of the paraprofessionals were incredibly toxic and not as knowledgable as they wanted you to think. You avoided them at all costs, hoping they would spare you of their holier-and-smarter-than-thou intimidation bull crap. Not to mention, the frequent gaslighting everyone was involved in reminded you of your time around your parents. Your higher-ups tried to guilt trip you for things that never happened at all.
You would get through this week, though. You would hang on for this one last week.
Your new workplace seemed fun. You'd only heard good things around Fukuzawa-dono. Er, the President. And Ranpo wouldn't let anyone bully you. (Wait, Ranpo! You could eat snacks at the Detective Agency!) The thought of eating at your work desk made your mouth water a little.
"Ahem." A caped man approached you with a book in hand, dark hair hanging over his eyes. You could tell he was a foreigner with his black vest, mandarin collar button up and a ridiculous colored-lapel white jacket. Pinstriped pants. You scanned the novel, a plain softcover in a language unknown to you.
"From around these parts?" you asked while scanning the book in. Beep.
"North America," he replied. With some thought, he continued, "That one's really popular," pointing at the book he just returned.
"Oh really?" You removed it from the cart you just put it away on and began to flip through. In your peripheral, the man's face twisted, and you felt unspeakable horror fall upon you. You caught a glimpse of his gray, hollow eyes, complete with gaping eye bags, and your hair stood on end.
"It's about a lousy, angst-ridden, good-for-nothing spoiled city prick," was the last thing you heard him say.
YOU ARE READING
Becoming Human ✷ (Dazai x Ranpo's Sister! Reader)
Fanfiction"To be lonely is to feel unwanted and unloved, and therefore unloveable. Loneliness is a taste of death. No wonder some people who are desperately lonely lose themselves in mental illness or violence to forget the inner pain." - Jean Vanier You cons...
