You and Dazai had always had your own little world. The teasing, the dumb jokes, the quiet moments where nothing had to be said. He laughed at your worst puns like they were comedy gold, and you swore you'd never get tired of the way he looked at you like you were the only one in the room.

Back then, the beach was your place. Just you two. Waves, sunsets, soft sand under tired feet — it was a ritual. Every few weeks, you'd go. Sit quietly. Maybe argue over snacks.

He’d joke about drowning himself in the ocean, and you’d call him an idiot with a soft smile. It was yours. No one else.

Then senior high started. And with it came a girl, Ocean. She was bright. Beautiful. Talked fast, laughed louder. Dazai said she was just a friend.

But it wasn’t long before she was everywhere. Next to him. Talking to him. Making him laugh. Your jokes started falling flat. Not because they were any worse — but because she’d already told them.