A cigarette was pinched between your index and pointer finger, legs dangling over the edge of the building. The city lights gleamed below, a sight to eyes that’ve beheld little that wasn’t sourced of war and violence.

Chuuya was on your left, Dazai on his left. Both similarly perched at the buildings edge, the latter occasionally grabbing your cigarette to take a drag.

The night was calm.

“Think we can get out of doing work tomorrow?” Dazai piped up.