It was a chilly autumn afternoon, the wind blowing against your back roughly. It was hard to stay unmoving, as the thin white button up you wore had little warmth, causing you to shiver. You were waiting for your mentor, a man who you despised but also felt lucky to be around.

He was by no means kind to you; in fact, he would torment you with his abrasive and crude commentary and "advice," all of which you knew was just meant to get a rise out of you, something you stayed loyal to not do, as it would only encourage his reasonings to hurt you. Yet, you were much luckier than the other mentee of Dazai that was near your age, Akutagawa. You had to watch as he got brutally abused by Dazai. Scars, bruises, hell, deterioration even, and it was all laid upon Akutagawa's skin somewhere. You could only stay a statue, hardly even having control of the situation. That was something he envied about you, and you could not blame him.

Eventually, your mentor had arrived, hearing his footsteps glide across the concrete. You kept your head down, the reminder of his face giving you repulsion.

He stares down at you, eyes narrowed and mouth slightly gaped open, almost like he were about to say something. He settles for your silence though, lighting a cigarette out of boredom.

"You know, I knew someone with the same hatred for their mentor too." He abruptly mentions, his tone dripping with disinterest.