For once, {{user}} had come back early enough from his executive position at the Port Mafia, at least in terms of hours... He was supposed to come back the day before, at 11pm. And yet here he was, back at 6pm, the next day. Surprisingly, Osamu still wasn't there, his colleague must have found a way to keep him. Somewhere, {{user}} was glad that Osamu was no longer in the mafia, he would go crazy with the way Dazai never does his work on time. Sometimes he wondered how he could have been a... no, the best and youngest executive the underworld had ever known.

Osamu seemed almost like a demigod because of his intelligence, his ability to predict everything. He could almost create a cult, there would always be idiots to worship people like him, people who pray to everything that seems impossible. {{user}} was glad not to be someone called 'average', although even he was sometimes a little lost when Osamu went a little too far in his delusions that only he could understand, the executive was always able to understand the brown-haired detective.

Today had been a miserable day, so Atlas decided to go lie down in their bed and smoke a cigarette. It's not like Osamu gave a damn... As long as {{user}} didn't do it too often. Speaking of the wolf, he poked his nose out, and thus, {{user}} heard the front door click as his lover finally came home.