#unless it’s happened in one of the LNs I haven’t caught up with yet

[sensitiveheartless]

Thoughts on the hc that Dazai has a glass eye?

I'm just imagining Dazai getting injured on a case on his blind side, and Kunikida berates him and drags him to Yosano.

And Yosano is like "Really, again? How did it happen this time?" And Kunikida says "Idiot wasn't paying attention."

Dazai "No I was, its just my blind side."

And they both freak out because why? How? Huh? But his eye looks fine?

Yosano: Well, I can schedule an appointment and we can see if we can get you surgery or something-

Dazai: Oh its unsalvagable, I'm blind on that side.

Kunikida: Why does your eye look fine then??? (He thinks Dazai is fucking with him)

Dazai just smiles, reaches up and pull the glass eye out. Kunikida screams.

- Goblin anon

Oh my gosh alsksjdjfjf honestly I think this hc is great just for that potential moment of screaming confusion on Kunikida’s part, Dazai absolutely would do that XD

I guess in general I haven’t thought much about the implications of Dazai bandaging that eye! I know I’ve definitely seen fics and stuff where his vision is off in that eye in one way or another (@feralrookie wrote a fantastic soulmate AU where Dazai’s soulmark is on that eye and it gutted me in the best way). I think it’s really fun to see where different people go with it :0

I do think it’s interesting that he swaps which eye he bandages in the Beast universe…that feels like it has Implications but I’m not sure what they are, I’m not very skilled at analysis lol —Although, slightly related, I do love the moment in the Dark Era where Oda pulls those bandages off as he dies, because it seems like a visual representation of how much Dazai was hindering himself in the mafia (seriously, if there isn’t anything wrong with that eye, that means the dude was shooting guns without precise depth perception seemingly just for the heck of it) and then Oda pulls them off as he tells him to go live in the light and just aaaaaaaaaaaaa I am never not going to be emotional about the dark era ;;

…anyway this got off topic, basically all this to say I think that I think it’s cool how many different interpretations of it there are, and you could definitely do a lot with the glass eye headcanon alskjdjdjd

#I don’t know how coherent this is alskjdjfj #i am very sleepy #…now I’m also thinking about the fact that I don’t think we’ve seen Dazai fire a gun since he joined the ADA #unless it’s happened in one of the LNs I haven’t caught up with yet #idk that just seems significant since the times we’ve seen him fire a gun previously were: a moment of clear trauma for him(the 15 arc) #and him imparting trauma on Akutagawa in the dark era. #I feel like that might be indicative of him distancing himself from his past self #or I could be reading too much into it #fun fact that was actually why I gave him a gun in the Dazai-goes-feral-AU #because in that fic he is regressing pretty heavily due to Stress and Emotions #and also why he immediately drops the gun and leaves it behind after he fires the last shot #cause he knows he’s regressing and he’s trying to distance himself from it. #…I ended up rambling a lot sorry alsksjdjfjf #oooh actually another random thought #dyou think there’s anything going on with Q’s eyes? like can they see ok? #I know it’s a part of their character design but oh my gosh those pupils #I feel like that would seriously hamper your vision #ok I need to stop myself before I write a full chapter of nonsense in the tags alskjdjdjd #ask box #bsd dazai #goblin anon

[ecotone99]

[RF] It.

Okay. I’ve had enough. Today’s the day I’m going to do it.

It’s been going on for as long as I remember. I have faint memories, from when I was really young, maybe three or four, a toddler for sure. Dad used to keep one in the house, but he kept it locked away upstairs and he’d never let me see it. A few years later I went through a phase where I thought it was really cool, and none of my friends at school had ever seen one, so I came up with this plan to steal it from my Dad while he was at work. I was just going to take it, show it off a little bit. I was far too frightened to actually use it. I had no idea how, and the idea of it was incredibly intimidating. Looking back, I was a reckless little shit, and when Dad caught me trying to break it out of the drawer he kept it in, he scolded me senseless, threatened to hit me, the whole nine yards. I’d never seen him so worked up, and being a kid, I thought it was a massive overreaction. It wasn’t until years later, after he died, that my mother told me his reaction was born out of fear for my safety, and not brute anger. Still, I resented him for years for it. I was embarrassed in front of my friends, and somewhere, deeper down, being denied the pleasure of even holding it made me feel victimised for the first time in my life. It’s all different now. Has been for years. My Dad’s reaction would be laughable if that incident had taken place now, instead of all those years ago. Nowadays, everyone’s got one. People walk down the street with them. They’re on TV advertisements, the front covers of magazines, plastered all over buses and billboards. I never paid much attention to politics, but I guess eventually enough powerless people got together and pressured enough powerful people, saying they needed them, that they were a good investment, a facet of modern life, something everybody needs but nobody knows they need. Then, almost overnight, they were everywhere.

But I don’t have one. And today, that’s going to change.

Feels good to hold it in my hand. Smooth, cold, sterile. For the first time in my life, I’m not a meaningless face in the crowd, I’m a meaningless face in the crowd with a fuck-ton of power and no way to use it. That’s okay, though. I don’t have any plans to use it. Just having it is enough for me. You never know, someday it might come in handy, but it’ll always be a last resort. I promise.

A single dirty sunbeam illuminates the room, penetrating the mouldy, dusty curtains, fanning across the floor. The room is pitiful. Dim, damp and unusually warm, seeing as the heating hasn’t been on in two months, or more. The radiators have begun to rust from disuse. The drip of the faucet in the kitchen echoes through the room, and a few flies buzz amongst the dirty dishes and discarded food packaging scattered across every surface, but it is otherwise silent. The television in the corner seems unable to let go of the faded image burnt into the screen, despite not having been turned on for God knows how long. Much of the furniture sits in various states of dilapidation, from the slightly creaky table to the decimated sofa cushions. Despite being separated from the room by a thick wooden door, the overpowering stench of an unclean toilet dominates and rises above the odours of mould and rotten food.

In the corner stands a futon, springs so worn that it is almost level to the ground, home to a civilisation of bedbugs so far into their collective development that they are on the cusp of subjective consciousness. And wrapped in the thin, tattered blanket lies a skinny, starved, unhealthy figure. Enter yours truly. Dragging myself upright, I pull apart the matted strands of long, greasy hair obscuring my face.

My morning routine usually begins with a ‘game’ I like to play while I get dressed; staggering around the room, I draw up a couple items of clothes scattered across the floor. Lift them to my nostrils, sniff, skip the cardigan. Sniff, this t-shirt isn’t going to make the cut, I’m afraid. Sniff, breakthrough! I’ve found a faded white t-shirt that only smells a little ripe. On to trousers; I repeat the process a few times until I discover a pair of jeans that smell relatively clean. Only hints of beer and dust, and a subtle, unidentifiable aroma. When I play this game, I like to pretend I’m a wine connoisseur, swishing the smells around my nose.

After I quickly get dressed, I step into the kitchen and prepare myself a convenient meal of canned whatever. On today’s menu; tuna and stale bread. The water’s been cut off, so I guess I’ll skip the shower today, again. Haven’t seen my keys in a couple days, so I don’t bother to lock the door on my way out. What’s the worst that could happen? Someone comes in and steals the half-eaten, two week old slice of pizza on the sofa? Be my guest.

That dusty beam of light that woke me up was a pretty poor preview of the blinding daylight I immediately feel on my skin when I walk out my front door. I don’t even know why I bother to leave the house sometimes. But I’d go insane if I stayed inside all day, so I like to make an effort. Today’s like every other day; as I aimlessly walk the streets, there’s no escaping the derisive glares of everyone I pass on the footpath. The buildings around here are all crumbling, abandoned, condemned. What a shitty neighbourhood. I’m surprised I didn’t get it sooner.

Speaking of which, I’ve had it for about three days now. I have it tucked away at all times, obviously. It took me weeks to gather up all the money for it, but I couldn’t afford the holder the guy offered to throw in with it (‘at an exclusive, limited time discount!’ he said), but this way is better, because now everybody knows I’ve got it. Everyone else does, too, sure. But I’ve got it. And as long as I’ve got it, I’m safe. These mean-looking fuckers, these judgemental fuckers, these fuckers, they can’t even touch me. They never did try to touch me, before I had it, but I bet one of them would any day now, the second I let my guard down. And that’s why I need it. With it, I’m powerful. Without, well, I may as well be dead.

The next few days, I do the same. Wake up, wander, walk home. Get in, go to sleep. Rinse and repeat. I’ve had it about a week now, and I guess people are starting to notice. Those mean-looking fuckers, those judgemental fuckers, they’ve been looking me up and down more often. When I was on my way home, one of them followed me, but I deviated down a couple sidestreets and lost them. Oxidia Ave., Bletchley Ln., Smith Pkwy. That’s my new way home, so I better remember it. No more gallivanting down Central St. without a care in the world for me. I spent less time out in the open today, too. The sunlight is getting oppressive. My room, my dingy, dark room, is getting more appealing. Maybe I’ll leave the house a little later, come home a little earlier, from now on. That way, I won’t go insane, but I’ll feel safer. And when I’m at home, I don’t have to carry it with me. But I mustn’t forget it when I leave, ever. I can’t leave without it.

It’s been three weeks, maybe a month, since I got it now. I can’t remember. It’s okay though, I haven’t used it yet. If someone out there tries to mug me, jump me, stop me, I’ll fight back with my fists. That’s how I always envisaged it, before I had it. It’s just a symbol. It’s my right. If someone were to catch me unaware, break in when I’m sleeping, and they’ve got their own, that’s when I’ll use it. But what are the chances of that, right?

Been setting aside money for the last week for today. I’ve had to push back my rent payment by a couple of weeks, but my building manager kind of assumes I’m dead unless I notify them otherwise. Besides, if I’m really stuck, I can always ask my mother. I’m sure she’d like to hear from me. I’ve gathered up enough through a combination of tearing my room apart for any sort of loose change, picking up what I come across on the street, and requesting an advance on my subsidy.

Going down to the office to pick up my subsidy was actually the only reason I left my room yesterday. The sunlight is too heavy on my shoulders now. Besides, it’s the height of summer, and I don’t want to sweat through all my clean clothes. And when the weather is great, everyone’s out. And everyone looks at me, sometimes they follow me. They know I have it. They’re trying to provoke me, to see if I’ll really use it. To see if I’m just a coward, or if I’m really a man. But I don’t have to worry about that anymore. I got together the money so I could get a new set of keys for the door, a new lock fitted. The locksmith seemed like a friendly guy, too good for this place. He was short, stout, balding on top, but despite all of this was oddly cheerful. Until I showed him it. He looked like the kind of guy who’d be interested in it, so I tried to start a conversation with him about it. But he just looked down his nose at me. He said he didn’t have one, that he didn’t need one. He’s wrong. He doesn’t know me. I need one.

I didn’t leave the house today. I sat and thought about it over a dinner of canned whatever last night, and came to the conclusion that being out there does me more harm than good. Oxidia Ave., Bletchley Ln., Smith Pkwy. That’s not long enough anymore. They’re learning how to keep up with me, looking at me, glaring at me, following me sometimes. Last night, on my way home, I took Springfield St. and Arthur Ln. between Bletchley Ln. and Smith Pkwy. That ought to throw them off. But I don’t need to remember that route, because I didn’t go out today, and I’m not going out tomorrow either.

I think I’ve had it for two months or more now. I’ve lost count. I carry it with me in my room now, too. I can’t leave it sitting out; what if someone broke in and grabbed it while I was in the kitchen, or the bathroom? It’s unthinkable. The new lock is holding up nicely, though. I’ve heard what sounds like people trying it throughout the night, but they can’t get in. They’ll never get in. And if they do, I have it. But I’ll only use it if I have to.

Knock knock

See? They’re trying it again.

Knock knock

Better go look out, just in case.

Nobody there. Must be hearing things. But I can’t let my guard down. I can never let my guard down.

I don’t have it anymore.

It’s been a week. I wasn’t sleeping. I felt unhealthy, I felt sick. I was getting thinner. I heard them knocking on my door throughout the night. Every time I checked, they weren’t there. Or they were gone. Until I let my guard down.

I thought it was inevitable. I knew it was going to happen, I just didn’t know when. I’d be caught off-guard by one of them, they’d come in, pick it up, and use it against me. But I wasn’t going to let them win. I justified it in my head.It’s not a toy, it’s not a symbol, it’s not a last resort. It’s my right. If I let them win, then I lose. But they started it. So if I win, and they lose, that’s not my fault. Not my problem. Reap what you sow, and all that. I was in my room, eating my canned whatever. Not doing much else, because the TV doesn’t work, and the water’s off. I’ve never been one for books.

Knock knock

I heard it. It’s okay. I’ve got it here with me, in my lap. If they knock again, if they try and get in, I’ll stop what I’m doing and check. I’m safe. I’ve got the upper hand.

But they didn’t knock again, and I forgot all about it. I wasn’t feeling well, so I went to bed early that night. And I brought it with me, obviously. I’d started doing that over the preceding weeks. I couldn’t sleep, but it seemed like I might have a better chance if I brought it with me.

It wasn’t long after I’d crawled onto my futon that the knocking started again. It was more aggressive this time, though. More rhythmic. Pounding, like a heartbeat. In sync with my own heartbeat. Dust was rising up around the foot of my rotten wooden door with the shiny new lock. And the door was shaking, spasming, shivering violently until it popped damn near out of its frame. As the dust cleared, the silhouette dispelled and a kid took its place. A tall, skinny, shaven-head kid, maybe sixteen years old, with a similar build to me. His face was haggard beyond his years though, and his eyes were both frantic and tired. He didn’t notice me at first. I leapt up, the smooth, cold, sterile texture of it in my hand. He saw it, no doubt a silhouette from his perspective, but he knew it, its size, its form. He locked eyes with me. I expected him to go on the offense. After all, he was just another mean-looking fucker, and he proved me right. I knew it would be inevitable, that they’d come for me. And they did. He did. But he froze. He looked at me with static eyes, glazed with fear, fear and helplessness. Above all, though, his eyes were embarrassed, like he’d been making a mistake and only realised after he’d fully gone through with it. Just like I did, when I tried to take it from my Dad, and he punished me within an inch of my life. Before I could use it, he bolted. He practically left a dust cloud behind him like in cartoons. I wanted to go after him, to apologise, to tell him it wasn’t me, it wasit, that I was just trying to protect myself from them. But he wasn’t like them. He was like me. I fell to my knees, going completely limp like a child’s doll, overwhelmed by the feeling of fear, exhaustion, sickness. I was sick. I was distraught. And I knew I was a slave to it. To its power. Not to the power it granted me, but the power it had over me.

The next day, I got rid of it.

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#Blogger #Story

[kenbinru]

I Can’t Believe I Have the Girlfriend of My Dreams! (An Unromantic Love Comedy LN) Chapter 6

Chapter 6

I open my eyes to find that I’m back to my original world – World B. The Akane I know isn’t here in this world, instead it’s Yuki-san. With Akane’s help, I know that it shouldn’t be too difficult to make my dream become real here.

Or at least I hope so.

Today I’m going to visit that maid café across town, where Yuki-san apparently works at. I won’t be going alone though, so I hope that Daisuke is coming with me. The Yuki-san of this world is too scary!

He can be my wing-man of sorts. But I better get changed and go to school. I wouldn’t want to be late today.

 Today at school nothing notable happened. I asked Daisuke if he was willing to go with me to find Yuki-san after school at the maid café, and he said yes without any hesitation.

“Of course! I’d go anywhere with you dude. Besides, who doesn’t want to see the Ice Witch in a cute maid uniform?”

That knucklehead was a little too enthusiastic to want to go with me, but I’m glad he said yes. Also, I completely forgot that today was another tutoring session with Kaneko-san. I managed to leave a note though before I left with Daisuke.

“Off to do an errand. See you soon!”

Please forgive me today Kaneko-san, for destiny awaits me.

 “Hey you gonna say anything about that?”

Daisuke must be talking about Kaneko-san who was following behind us.

“Let’s just pretend that we haven’t seen her yet…”

Kaneko-san was tailing the both of us. She probably managed to see the note I left her and being the roadrunner, she caught up to us somehow.

“Those boys are up to no good!” she’s probably thinking.

The funny thing was she wasn’t doing a very good job of keeping a low-profile. But it doesn’t matter, we’re here to find Yuki-san, and somehow make my dreams a reality. Akane told us to look for a sign that has a cat logo. She said we won’t miss it unless we’re blind.

“Is this the place…?” as me and Daisuke manage to spot a giant cat logo, with the sign saying “The Purrfect Café.” As me and Daisuke enter (along with Kaneko-san a few minutes later trying to hold her embarrassment), we’re greeted by the big meow of a rather pudgy black cat wearing a red collar with a small bell. I muttered a small “meow” to the café’s mascot.  There was also a big sign indicating a Valentines’ Day couples special.

“Well, it’s just the two of us…not including roadrunner outside.” As he looks deeply into my eyes.

What was Daisuke implying?!?

We get seated at a small table for two, and it had pictures of cats and cat-girls galore.

“This is heaven Kaz…”

 Daisuke and I were absorbing the atmosphere of the café. It was a cat-themed café, where all the servers were girls dressed in maid outfits, but with a twist. All of them had cat ears or tails, or were also dressed with small animal features. Both of us were the only people here (and Kaneko-san trying to hide her face behind a menu at a table across from us), and it did not seem so busy.

“Daisuke, do you see Yuki-san anywhere?”

He and I were both scanning the café to find Yuki-san, until a server interrupts us.

“Hello master-nyan! Ho-“

Me and Daisuke (along with Kaneko-san) were in shock.

“I don’t believe it…” as Daisuke slowly pulled out his phone to snap a photo.

It was Yuki-san!

She looked absolutely cute in that frilly cat/maid outfit. Her pantyhose were covering her long legs, which led up to a small cat-shaped window of her black maid costume that wrapped all her curves in the right places. She even had a tail and cat ears on top of her long black flowing hair!

I need to make a mental image of this…

Yuki-san was visibly embarrassed, as our unexpected arrival cracked her cold exterior. But, she immediately put her guard back on, and recomposed herself back into a professional waitress of a maid café.

“What would you like masters-nyan?”

I could hear the slight cringe she had at the end of the sentence, and it didn’t help that her smile was more crooked than genuine.

“I’d like an omelet rice Akane-chan!”

Daisuke you idiot! He’s gonna ruin everything! I never should have brought him along with me if he was gonna be this casual with her. This is an investigation after all, in the pursuit to make Yuki-san become my girlfriend, not hate me!

“Ok! How about you…?” asked Yuki-san.

“I guess make it two omelet rice-nyan?” I tried to laugh it off but she didn’t.

Yuki-san left to go get our orders with her feet stomping away. Even the manager was eyeing the commotion at this lone table. One glance from Yuki-san and he turned into an ice sculpture.

Poor manager-san!

“Kaz, no matter where I go with you, it’s always entertaining!”

“Shut up you goof! Don’t try to ruin my chances with her!”

“C’mon dude, lighten up a little. Your hunch was right. We found the Ice Witch’s secret lair. That means you and her have a connection that no one else has. It’ll be a great conversation starter!”

Yeah, it’d be a great conversation starter, and life ender for me.

A few minutes later, our omelet rice came. Yuki-san being aggressive, plotted the plates on our table.

“Eat up.” As her cute charade was dropped.

“Wait! The menu said you could write something on our omelet rice!” said Daisuke with a cheeky grin on his face.

Yuki-san gave the heaviest sigh I’ve ever heard.

“Fine…master-nyan.” She grabbed the ketchup bottle and drew a Heart on Daisuke’s omelet rice with ease. Then, she did the same on mine, but also wrote characters indicating “death”. Yuki-san came close to my ear and whispered “Enjoy…Kaneshiro-san…” in a menacing tone. Goosebumps shot through my body.

If I’m gonna get out alive, I better hurry up and eat everything fast.

Daisuke however, was taking photos of me and him at this café. Unfortunately, the manager didn’t allow us to take photos of the maids, but that seemed more like Yuki-san’s doing than the nice manager. I’m too scared to death that I lost my appetite. It was unbelievable to think that Akane and Yuki-san were the same person.

I hope I never do something bad to Akane in the other world…

“We’ve had enough research for today, hurry up Daisuke!” He was sure taking his sweet time to tease me.

 I get ready to leave and pay the bill for both of us. Daisuke got an important call during the middle of eating and had to leave early. He probably forgot his wallet at home – again. Besides being scared to death, I’m also broke for the month. I head for the exit and say good-bye to the cat and Kaneko-san, Yuki-san suddenly exits the café.

“HEY YOU JERK!” She was breathing heavily and her face was filled with rage. Despite her malicious aura, she still looked amazingly cute and deadly at the same time. Even the people outside on the street were staring at this peculiar sight of a young woman’s wrath. I’m already in a runner’s position ready to take off at moment’s notice.

“DON’T TELL ANYONE WHAT YOU SAW TODAY!” as she pointed at me.

My instincts take over and I bow my head to her and apologize. Audible gasps from people passing by are heard, along with Yuki-san’s cold icy gaze directed at me.

“DON’T EVER COME BACK HERE IDIOT, AND THAT OTHER IDIOT TOO!” as she stormed off back into the café, with her tail wagging behind her legs.

If today could be summed up in a few words, it was one step forward, about a million steps backwards. This wasn’t as easy as I thought it was gonna be. I start to head back home, until another girl comes out screaming.

“WAIT FOR ME KAZUKI-KUN!” There was Kaneko-san, who managed to catch up to me quickly.

Kaneko-san was walking home besides me. Needless to say, Daisuke, Kaneko-san, and I were officially on Yuki-san’s list.

“I can’t believe that was the Ice Witch…” Kaneko-san looked at me intently.

“How did you find out about where she worked Kazuki-kun?”

There was no way I was gonna tell my secret, especially to a girl like Kaneko-san who endlessly teases me.

“I just had a hunch is all…” Kaneko-san gave me a suspicious look, but shrugged off and accepted my answer.

“You don’t give up do you Kazuki-kun?”

“Huh…?” I was confused about what her question was implying.

“What do you mean?” Kaneko-san stopped walking and stood in front of me.

“I mean any other guy would have quit, but it seems that you won’t give up on Yuki-san will you?”

She was right. I won’t quit on Yuki-san.

I will make her happy somehow!

I laugh for first time today. Kaneko-san laughs too. Somehow for a moment, the airheaded roadrunner looked graceful with her smile. It was until she started laughing harder.

“What an idiot!” And just like that whatever grace she had returned to being a dummy.

*Sigh*

She composes herself back to normal.

“I’m glad you have a sense of justice Kazuki…”

We both head our separate ways when we reach the split of the road.

“Hey Kazuki…uh you’re not doing anything for…AHHHHHHH!” and Kaneko-san runs off.

She stops after a few meters and runs back to me.

“You owe me a tutoring session idiot! Don’t forget it!” and she runs off fast enough that I can smell the rubber burning from the soles of her shoes.

What a weird person…

 “I’m home.”

I find my mother is sitting on the table reading and I notice my dad is back too.

“Hey son!”

My dad is the complete opposite of my mother. I honestly have no idea how they got together (nor want to know how), but it’s probably an interesting story. My dad has to travel a lot due to his work, and he’s more of a free spirit than my mother; a bit weird perhaps. I’ll admit though, that my father really did care for us. As a kid growing up, he would pretend to be the bad guy and I would try to finish him off with my signature move just like the show! My mother would say that he was looking like a fool, and my father would say “Join us!”

“Let me see your head!”

My father meticulously inspected my head by looking at every wrinkle and examining me like I was an object off an assembly line.

“Hmm…honey! Can you make him drink the special herbal tea I bought?”

“No! I’m fine dad really!”

Every trip back he always manages to find the weirdest and strangest things for me to try, and almost every single one was worse than the last somehow. Dad called off the herbal tea.

“I’ll find something better next time! Oh! I should mention that I’m leaving in the morning early. I have to go to the regional office for a few days. Apparently I need to train new recruits the basics.”

Mother sighed deeply. “But I’ll call every night dear…and I’ll be back before Valentines’ Day…”

My father was never the smooth talker he said he was. The two embrace, and I look away as soon as possible from the cringe.

 The three of us ate dinner together for the first time in a long time. I’m in bed now, staring at the ceiling. The next time I wake up, I will be in World A, where Akane and I are together.

I’m sure my dad would love to meet Akane.

They seem like two peas in a pod. I’m too excited to meet her that I can’t sleep.

Maybe I should do some exercise or something? I try to do ten push-ups, emphasis on try. After tiring myself out from those push-ups, I’m still not sleepy. I think to my thoughts. Today was sort of a disaster. Akane will probably make fun of me when I tell her my results of me trying to get close to Yuki-san. She’ll probably say something like “I bet I can seduce myself!” However, one pressing matter was Daisuke.

What was so important that he had to leave?

I tried calling him earlier but he wasn’t picking up. He messaged me later telling me he’ll see me tomorrow.

What secret could he be keeping from his best friend?

Also, I have to see Kaneko-san tomorrow too since she started spamming me LINE messages of our regularly scheduled tutoring.

“DON’T FORGET THIS TIME OR ELSE!!!” written in all capital letters. I drift off to sleep. Time to see the girl of my dreams again…