xxxi.

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dear chuuya,

do you think we were too young? or too stupid, to know things like love?

do you think it'd have been better to have never met me in the first place?

is this why you remember everything else but not me? why you remember dazai, the one who gives you the letters, atsushi, my teammate in every biochem assignment so far and who you still can't look at, kunikida, the maths professor we used to crack jokes about, ranpo, yosano, ryuunosuke, kouyou, gin, anyone else.

maybe you were right, after all. it really is the greatest grief to be nothing more than washed-out footsteps in the sands of someone who's your whole world.

fuck. why are you always right?

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