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Complete Hurts Like Hell (M)

Chuuya Nakahara

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July 20th, Year 109
@Osamu Dazai

Chuuya’s eyes fluttered open as his vision was blinded by the light. When his eyes adjusted, he was surprised to see the place he was in. It was bright and ethereal and nothing like the place he was in. There were people here and some were women that wore strange armor—some were patrolling the skies with flying horses, which shouldn’t be surprising since this was Pandora.

But how the fuck did he get here?

Chuuya tried to wrack his brain to recall what had happened. Because the last thing he remembered was...speaking those cursed words after telling the others to run—telling them to call Dazai while he bought them time.

He used Corruption. There had been so much pain—a sensation that burned through his entire body and being while Arahabaki took control. It had hurt so much even when he had no control and continued on and on—and while he felt completely fine now, he could still taste the lingering taste of blood in his mouth.

Determined, he went to talk to one of those warrior women and asked for answers. And they delivered: they told him he had died; this was Valhalla and he’d stay for one day before returning to Pandora, alive.

And yet...his heart stopped when he heard that. He was in shock because this meant he had died...by Corruption.

It meant Dazai didn’t make it.

He didn’t know why that felt more like a punch to the gut than anything else—it felt like he swallowed glass, as the shock continued to settle in, as he walked further inwards. There was a large hall with long tables hosting a variety of foods and drinks and really, he didn’t want to think that he had actually died and Dazai just…

How would he react? Would he curse Chuuya for doing it without him being there? For being a fucking idiot?

He knew the Valhalla rumor when he did activate Corruption, but it was just a rumor . Not many people were keen on learning if you could come back from the dead.

Chuuya grabbed a goblet and downed the wine that was in there. It was sweeter than what he normally drank but he definitely didn’t want to think he about this bullshit.

However, when he grabbed another goblet, he froze when he heard laughter. But this laughter he fucking recognized. He’s heard it since he was fifteen and it always annoyed the hell out of him—he wouldn’t have failed to recognize it.

He slowly turned his head and saw...Dazai. Sitting on the table, eating food and drinking, and talking to some person that Chuuya didn’t even register because he just saw red.

Dazai was here in Valhalla—in other words, he died too. And those ladies told him that after you were dead for a day, you’d return to life. Since it was a thing this season for the dead to come here but be revived, and Dazai kept an ear out for weird shit, he fucking doubted that his partner didn’t hear about it sooner and…

Did that mean that Dazai had been doing this more than once? Did that mean that every time that Dazai vanished from their apartment for more than a day meant that he was killing himself? He knows Dazai, he knows he’s fucking suicidal but would he really do that?

Without even telling him?

His rage turned his face into an ugly snarl as he stomped his way towards them and literally lifted Dazai from behind and tossed him to the other side of the great hall. Plates and goblets were shattered as Dazai flew into the air.

Chuuya didn’t fucking care if it hurt. He was just...so...angry. “So, this is where you fucking were? Partying with the fucking dead?!”
 
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Osamu Dazai

Bungo Stray Dogs
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Oh, Valhalla. It was both a blessing and a curse. A taste of what he craved, without really giving him what he wanted. The very first visit...wasn't quite on purpose. His luck tripping, a blade cutting a bit deeper than he intended. Most of the time he would have stopped it. Pressed a bandage to the weeping wound and found an exit in a different way. Instead, he just watched. It was hypnotic. Dazai had purposefully chosen to be elsewhere for this particular way to let off steam, meaning he was alone.

And, well, he died.
Then woke up in Valhalla.

At first he was pretty annoyed. Not even death was an escape from this place. But then - an idea. It'd be a pretty handy way to test it. As long as Valhalla was there, he could run through his favorite methods and see how they actually felt. Not taking himself up to that point and backing away; not tempting fate. Not pushing the limit and realizing he wasn't quite worthy of this relief. Instead, he could just push against the wall and see what happened. What each stage felt like, and figure out what he liked best for later.

Which...wasn't something most people wanted to hear or know. So he didn't really tell anyone. Just disappeared for a day at a time, every few days. Not often enough people would notice that it was outside of the ordinary. It wasn't uncommon for Dazai to just cease to exist for up to three days at a time. Then he'd just resurface like nothing happened at all.

There had been a brief period in mid-July when he slowed his pace. Took some time off from offing himself over and over again. That was because a demon told him that he was going to go to hell, and it'd hurt. Death wasn't an escape at all, but just yet another suffocating prison without escape. There...wasn't a release. There wasn't a way for it to stop.

Dazai hadn't done much of anything since he heard that. Still smiled, still made jokes, but he was emotionally disconnected. One of the more solid bouts of dissociation tinging reality to the point where it was hard to breathe. Death wouldn't fix anything, but he wanted it anyway.

So he killed himself, again.

It was different from the others.

It wasn't an exploration, but seeking.

He wanted - needed - out.

And so he sat in Valhalla, with drink in his hand, food in his mouth. He didn't feel any better, which wasn't surprising. But he was playing it up like he was. Maybe at some point the laugh would actually sink below the surface and make him feel literally anything at all.

Then he was airborne, which was surprising.

Dazai hit the ground hard - rolling onto his back to see exactly what the hell was happening - a laugh on his lips, until he saw exactly who was attacking him.

Chuuya.

"Fancy seeing you in a place like this," his voice forced with that lighter tone, as he forced himself to sit up - tone a bit off, since the air had been knocked out of his lungs, "I'd ask what brings you here, but considering you're you...I'm guessing you used Corruption when I wasn't around," he cleared his throat, before offering a smile, "And now you're going to beat me to a nice meaty pulp, because you're pissed that I was too dead to help. How am I doing so far Chuuuuuuuuya?"
 
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Chuuya Nakahara

Bungo Stray Dogs
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584
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Ark City
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24
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Male
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Human (Vessel)
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Chuuya was so fucking angry, as he saw Dazai’s face; almost smug as he smiled. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened to Chuuya; his hat and gloves were gone—given to Akutagawa—while his clothes had blood from Corruption.

And really, he should have fucking expected that Dazai would do this. Even after everything they went through, he shouldn’t have expected that Dazai would consider that maybe he’s spewing out complete bullshit. That maybe, it’d be better to shut his fucking mouth before Chuuya ripped his tongue out.

“Oh, you’re just asking for a fucking beating, aren’t you?” Chuuya half shouted as he grabbed Dazai again. “Well, excuse me, jackass—but I don’t keep a fucking schedule whenever you make an attempt to off yourself!” He punched him in the abdomen before shoving him at the wall.

“I thought the rumour was shit, but no—you’d definitely abuse this bullshit once you learned what it could do. The fact that you can die and then come back and do it all over again must be a fucking dream for you!” An ugly smirk was on his lips as he asked, “How am I doing so far, Daaaaazai?” Just as he punched him in the face lifted him on the table—causing plates and food to crash to the floor.
 
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Osamu Dazai

Bungo Stray Dogs
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Dazai didn't fight as he was grabbed - eyes locked on Chuuya, taking in all the little tiny details. The blood that stained his clothing. The lack of his hat, his coat. He really had done it, hadn't he? The now third instance of Chuuya throwing himself into Corruption without knowing Dazai was around. It had been when they met up for the first time. Chuuya fighting some random gang of thugs, and fate plopping Dazai down just where he needed to be. The second time was that kidnapping. Chuuya forced to that point by design, but Dazai - yet again - found him in just the right time. This third, and final time - Dazai didn't know the conditions. Didn't know if he threw himself into it, just hoping Dazai would show. Funny how he was considered the suicidal one, yet Chuuya seemed to be the one to be grasping at death with a more persistent swipe.

Heh.

Dazai made a pained sound, as Chuuya's fist connected with his gut, continuing to make no effort to fight Chuuya as he was shoved back up against a wall. Dazai's amused expression had died into its more comfortable nothingness. A punch to the face, back on a table.

He ended up hitting the ground yet again from falling off of the table. People were quickly clearing out to give them space. Probably the Valkyrie were on their way and would stop more fighting in moments. But this was Chuuya's first time - why spoil the surprise? Dazai pushed himself up with one arm - wiping a blood of blood that was either coming from his mouth or nose - the pain too general to really tell him much of anything outside of ow. Empty eyes landed on Chuuya as he took a deep breath.

"You're right. This place is both a nightmare and dream wrapped into one. There is no escape from this suffocating dream, no matter how many times I try. No matter how hard I try," he leaned his back against the table and laughed, "It's all meaningless!" he took an uneven breath and shook his head - still watching Chuuya, "I don't know what you're searching for me to say, outside of making me hurt. Though that's the goal, isn't it? Make me hurt for letting you die. I told you once that dating me wouldn't fix me. That I'm forever a warped puzzle piece with the wrong picture compared to everyone else," he wiped at his face again, finding blood just freely running out of his nose. Great.

"Even if I was alive, I likely wouldn't have made it in time. Have you considered that? I could have been anywhere, yet you're mad at me for not magically showing up and saving your ass for the third time in Pandora. How is that fair, Chuuya? I could have been anywhere doing anything. Yes, I'm dead. You're right. Gold fucking star. But your death isn't on me."
 
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Chuuya Nakahara

Bungo Stray Dogs
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584
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Ark City
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24
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Male
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Human (Vessel)
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Dazai wasn’t fighting back and he ignored the other party-goers as he was beating the shit out of his boyfriend. He was just pissed off with this—seeing Dazai close off. Like he’d rather just have this conversation to end and not take fucking responsibility for his actions.

He breathed heavily as he saw Dazai wiped his face, blood coming out of his nose. And he saw those eyes: empty. As if he was a hollow shell, wanting to intimidate him and fuck with him as he replied.

Dazai spoke as if a grand surprise was unleashed, showing Chuuya just how fucked up the world is. Look at it—how meaningless everything is. This was how he must really feel; and he hated that Dazai did feel this way. That he kept it to himself when he didn’t have to.

As Dazai continued, Chuuya clenched his fists as he bit the inside of his cheek, trying to control himself as Dazai compared himself to a fucked up puzzle, of how dating wouldn’t fix him. He wanted Dazai to hurt—not sure why. Maybe Chuuya did want him to feel something; a kind of guilt for letting Chuuya die, but that wasn’t the only reason. He was pissed because Dazai didn’t fucking talk to him.

“You are such a fucking idiot!” Chuuya shouted as he punched the chair beside it and crushing it. “You call yourself a fucking genius but you don’t know shit!”

Glaring at Dazai, Chuuya met his gaze head-on. No more going in circles. He’d tell Dazai exactly how he felt. “You know what my fucking problem is, Dazai? You not telling me anything!”

His ability flared up as he began to pace. “We’re supposed to be a team! You did this even when we were partners, and I fucking hated it! I hated not being in the loop, I hated that you hid shit from me when we were supposed to have each other’s back! I would have been pissed about this, even if we weren’t dating!”

He was breathing heavily as he continued. “I’m taking responsibility for my death—I knew what I was getting into. I knew that every day while being in the Port Mafia. I made sure to protect our own. You gave us the mission, and expecting you to show up later is on me—I take responsibility—but that’s not the fucking point here!”

Chuuya turned to Dazai’s eyes, feeling tired and annoyed with all this but mostly wanting Dazai to see why he felt like this. “I want you to talk to me! I don’t want to change or fix you—I told you that when we started dating. I’m not lecturing you to make you feel like shit, I’m doing this for you to wake up! You can’t keep me or the team in the dark. Partners don’t fucking do that—and that's what we are: partners, right?”
 
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Osamu Dazai

Bungo Stray Dogs
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462
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24
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Male
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Being called an idiot after having the shit beat out of him in a public setting was fun and all, but this entire conversation was starting to press unpleasantly on his patience. Gaze falling to the shattered chair, wondering if that was coming for him next. It couldn't, of course. His powers would negate what Chuuya could do to him, unless he threw himself into it. Powers didn't exactly stop gravity itself, after all.

Dazai remained sitting on the ground - occasionally wiping at the blood leaking from his nose, as Chuuya started both glowing and pacing. Now it would be explained how - exactly - he was an idiot. There would probably be a lot of sweating, a lot of glowing, more objects broken.

Fuck he wasn't in the mood for any of this.

Apparently Dazai wasn't telling him "anything". Which...ehh. This wasn't a new thing. Dazai had never been open about sharing information with others, and that's simply how he was. It wasn't a slight against Chuuya or anyone. He just enjoyed and preferred keeping information to himself.

Chuuya even mentioned that it wasn't new, only adding to Dazai's confusion.
So...he was mad...about Dazai doing what he normally did.
Well, okidoki then.

Buuuut, feeling generous, Dazai stayed quiet. Watching the man pace back and forth, before he was suddenly the sole focus.

There were many things about this conversation that annoyed him, but that last question did it. The answer to his problems had never been so obvious in his life. A quiet laugh on his lips, as he leaned his head back against the table his back was already pressed up against; eyes on the sky of Valhalla.

The conversation had happened a few times earlier in the month. How he wasn't capable of romantic love, and this entire relationship was him reaching for something that was never his in the first place. Dazai liked being loved, but it was an egotistical and selfish act. Of course he wanted to be wanted; it stroked his ego and made him feel like he mattered. Buuut it was for all the wrong reasons. For everything he liked, was twice as many things as he hated, but swallowed back because they were supposed to be a normal piece that normal people did.

Dazai had always wanted to understand what it was like to just...feel like a person. He knew he logically was, but the Human Experience was always lost on him. It's why he was always drawn to people who felt so much; wishing to just absorb a drop of what they were feeling and experiencing, so he could maybe understand having a will to live.

"...No, we're not," his voice empty, "I'm done," he pushed himself to his feet, though his legs nearly gave out, causing him to have to quickly support himself on the table. Apparently the adrenaline from being thrown around hadn't quite settled yet. Good to know.

Dazai straightened his bolo-tie, and stared at Chuuya, "Before you break my jaw and call me more bad words, I think...we just fundamentally want different things. You said it yourself, Chuuya," his tone more serious than usual, "I've never...exactly been the sharing sort. Now you're furious at me, and hurting me, because I'm doing exactly what I normally do. What you expect me to do. This…us, can't work as we stand. You want to date a normal person, Chuuya. You want someone who tells you things, who enjoys romance, who understands how the fuck to actually be a decent boyfriend and partner. I'm...none of those things. Not even close," he didn't know why, but it wasn't easy to say this, "I do want you to be happy. And I know that I can't bring you that. Plus lifting a hand to your boyfriend is generally frowned upon...so let's just end it so we don't have a domestic abuse case in Valhalla. Anyway, proceed with breaking my face, and rubs, and whatever. It's not like you can kill me here, anyway."
 
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Chuuya Nakahara

Bungo Stray Dogs
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Ark City
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24
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Male
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Chuuya was hoping that Dazai would see what made him mad; the other man could keep his secrets and all the like, but he would have thought—hoped that Dazai would have told him about this. He didn’t expect Dazai to stop wanting to die. He knew that wouldn’t happen. He just thought that Dazai would have told him something—anything. A simple, ‘hey, I’m not feeling that great’ or something like that! Something that would let him know that he wanted Chuuya’s company or not.

But then Dazai let out a laugh at his question, as he looked up to the sky. Chuuya felt something drop in his stomach—it was twisting in a nervous way and he didn’t like it. And then...Dazai spoke.

“No, we’re not. I’m done.”

Did...did he? Chuuya stood shocked still, breath stuck in his throat, feeling numb as he simply...listened. Listened to what Dazai was saying. That they wanted different things, that this was what Dazai usually did and that Chuuya had hurt him. That he wanted to date a normal person; someone who talks to him enjoys romance and how to be a decent partner. And that Dazai wasn’t any of those.

He said that he wants Chuuya to be happy and that he can’t give that to him. Chuuya already felt like someone was just digging a knife into him but that and the mention of domestic abuse felt so much worse. Was that how Dazai really saw this—saw him? A person who’d do domestic violence against someone? The hurt on his expression from those words had to be obvious.

Dazai was breaking up with him, and all Chuuya could think about was that he had hurt him. That this was considered domestic abuse because he lashed out in his anger. He didn’t expect miracles from this fucking relationship—and Dazai was wrong that he wanted to date someone normal. He’d wanted Dazai—and they had promised that they’d figure things out with each other.

But the mentions of someone who enjoys romance meant that Dazai never enjoyed it. That he didn’t enjoy doing romantic gestures to Chuuya, that his entire thing with the birthday wasn’t something he did because he wanted to. Did Dazai do everything romantic because it had to? That it was expected?

Did Dazai even really love him?

He looked down at his hands as he felt his throat block up, before clenching his fists. He let out a breath and spoke after the silence that came between them. “So...this is how you feel about us.”

Taking a sharp breath, he looked over Dazai’s shoulder—almost knowing that if he did look at Dazai, he’d do something he’d regret. Either punch him or end up crying, he didn’t know. So he didn’t look. “Does trying to hurt me now make you feel better?”

Does he want the god-damn truth? He’ll get it. “We were never on equal footing. We agreed that we’d try to figure this out together—to make it work for us. I didn’t expect miracles, Dazai, but I would have hoped you’d let me know about this. Even if it was just a remark or something! Relationships aren’t fucking easy: nothing is ever easy! But you—you didn’t even try. And apparently, this was never something you fucking wanted!”

Chuuya shouted, feeling his voice strain from the anger. He wasn’t even trying to hide how hurt he felt, how angry and alone this was making him feel. “But instead of telling me, you just stayed silent. And now, you’re being an asshole because it’s easier that way to cut ties; easier for you to get out of this. Because that is what you fucking do best: you leave.”

Chuuya couldn’t help but let out a pained laugh as he shook his head. “You don’t want me happy—you probably never did. This was all just a fucking game for you. I bet it was amusing, wasn’t it? Play with my heartstrings, and see how it goes? Well, congratulations! I hope you had fun, you bastard. It’s nice knowing this was all fake. At least now, I know where we fucking stand!”

And just like that...he sighed. A wave of exhaustion washed over him and while he still felt the ache in his chest and his eyes water, he stayed strong. Chuuya turned his back to Dazai. He couldn’t stand to look at him when it just pained him. But there is one thing he did want to say. If this would fuck up any chance for anything, then so be it. Maybe he’d wake the fuck up.

“You know what’s sad? Oda would be hurt to see you like this. You left the mafia to be a better man; to do some good since it didn’t make a difference for you. Because he asked you to do better because he could see the road you were going down would ruin you. But now? You’re going down the same road. And maybe you’re choosing this path because you feel you don’t deserve to be happy, to care, to love or anything like that. Even when there are people who do. Because you’re afraid of wanting more.”

A sharp exhale escaped his lips, as he steeled himself. “You told me once that you ‘pretend to be more than what I know you are’. The only one stopping that is you. Back home, you’d changed for the better. Now? Now, I don’t know anymore.”

And with that, he completely ignored Dazai and began to walk away. Walking out of the grand hall as he moved passed the Valkyries and the onlookers. He didn’t dare look back at Dazai, because right now, he felt so numb and hollow, as his thoughts ran through his head.

Nothing would be the same again. Chuuya should have known better that Dazai never really loved him. It was all an act; a lie. Trying to make him complacent and keep him on his good side. He had thought they were okay, that Dazai would have said something if it bothered him or—

Chuuya sighed as he took a deep breath to control himself. Maybe he should have done better, maybe he should have kept his mouth shut that night and bury his feelings. Maybe...maybe. Well, now he knows better.

Dazai doesn’t care. He won’t come to save Chuuya from Corruption. He wouldn’t ever care about it or him. Well, good to finally know where they stand. How Dazai saw them.

Now, they really were enemies.

He’d still work for the Stray Dogs, but they were nothing more than colleagues. Worse than strangers. Dazai pretends that he knows him, but he really doesn’t. And apparently, Chuuya didn’t really know Dazai either.
 
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Osamu Dazai

Bungo Stray Dogs
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"Sometimes the truth hurts, Chuuya."

And...as expected Chuuya was upset. Dazai remained silent as he went off - making dramatic statements that were things he flat out didn't say. Honestly, he meant every word of what he said. The fact was, none of this was working. The fact was glaringly obvious for some time now, but he was choosing to let it coast - hoping something magically would click in his head.

It never did.

And here they were.

At the mention of Odasaku, Dazai's eyes narrowed. So, that's how it was going to be. Cheap shots that he knew would get under Dazai's skin. Oh yes, because he was choosing the happiness of Chuuya over his own well-being, he was clearly evil now. That's how it worked. Perhaps a few of his weakly held together morals had fractured some, but he was still trying to do good in Ark City. The amount of shit he had fixed - especially since joining up with that cop - was more than he could have hoped for.

But yes, he was the fucking Antichrist now, apparently.

So he said nothing. Eyes narrowing on Chuuya as he continued to purposefully try to get a reaction out of him. So, this was where they stood. Two dead strangers, who should have remained on opposite sides. It was disappointing, really. This little experiment was meant to try to make Dazai understand how people felt as much as they did. Being drowned in love wasn't supposed to end with a probably broken nose, and bruised tailbone. It wasn't supposed to make him feel even more cold and dead inside then he had in a long while. It was supposed to feel like how it did when he was near people who weren't like him. Like watching emotions and strong feelings unfold on the faces of Odasaku. Of Atsushi. Of even Akutagawa.

Just a little taste, a little glimmer into a world that was forever a mystery to him.

Instead, he felt genuinely sick. Though the blood going down the back of his nose and down his throat was likely leading to that.

Chuuya stomped away, and Dazai said nothing. Blood freely flowed from his nose and down his chin - slowly dripping onto his clothes. This was Valhalla, it'd be healed soon.

Funny how the man who preached of morals was insulted when Dazai casually mentioned domestic abuse, after he lifted his hand to him. That reaction on Chuuya's face continuing to linger in the back of his mind, as unfocused eyes remained locked on nothing at all.

If the shoe fucking fits, Chuuya.

Dazai coughed a few times, purposefully trying to get the blood out of his throat, before spitting off to the side. He grabbed at a napkin that was on the ground nearby, and shoved it under his nose, as he sat on the edge of a table.

He had never felt less like a person in his life.

With that, he sighed a resigned fuck and walked off - seeking somewhere to clean up, and try to kill time before returning back to reality.
 
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