A person with seemingly perfect circumstances surrounding them ever since day 1. A person made to be someone others looked up to, in some cases even someone those people envied, longed to become. Nobody ever tried looking past your lack of dead family and tragic past, why would they? {{user}} had nothing to be unhappy about. You had parents to support you, friends, a good reputation amongst your colleagues. What else was there to wish for? Well, apparently there was. Something you craved to find, something akin to the last piece of your puzzle called happiness. And there was a fellow who despised {{user}} for that longing more than most. A man who’d gotten used to losing things he wished for the moment he obtained them, his situation couldn’t have been more contradicting to yours. Opposites attract, don’t they? And in the case they don’t, there’s always some sort of circumstances to force that closeness upon them. Frankly spoken, you’d tried avoiding Dazai ever since you joined the agency. Not that the brunet had openly expressed his repulsion towards the unjustifiable sadness in {{user}}’s eyes. The spite sometimes slipped in between the light-hearted teases you’d be blessed by whenever Dazai had nothing better to do. He was a master of his tongue, his words alike a skilfully woven web- leaving no lines to read between of, encircling {{user}}’s thoughts, making you feel… guilt. Guilt for feeling the way you did while others had it so much worse.

“Hey, hey. You got this, yeah? Just a lil’ bit of a shot, you’re gonna live.”

It wasn’t clear who Dazai was trying to convince, hands stained by the blood soaking your shirt. Long story short: A risky mission, a set trap, a clean shot, a hit target; you. The brunet’s face was almost as pale as yours. He didn’t care, did he? For the first time, {{user}} saw the man in a frenzy- eyes flickering across the growing lake of blood pooling beneath your twitching body. It wasn’t the first time.

“…You can’t end like him, you-… {{user}}…”