𝐗𝐈. dress up dolls

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𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝟑: 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇

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𝐀𝐂𝐓 𝟑: 𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 . 𝐗𝐈
𝙙𝙧𝙚𝙨𝙨 𝙪𝙥 𝙙𝙤𝙡𝙡𝙨

𝐈𝐌𝐏𝐎𝐑𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓 ✦:
This is just a chapter that is for fun. Not a lot of angst as I wanted to have a small break from those. Most of this is fluff, so just a heads up.

𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐏𝐎𝐕:

Every day, the cycle is repeated. Get up, train Chuuya and Dazai, finish up my paperwork, and go back to bed. We occasionally went on missions, although it is really uncommon. Without Mori, I was unable to go out as frequently. If I can't perform basic tasks like travelling to the docks to check on supplies, how am I supposed to be an executive? I'm acting like a kid who just had their toy taken away from them. I'm dumb, and it's dumb. I used to think that life was monotonous, and I still do. Even if the outside world is dreary, it is still preferable to the Port Mafia.

I massaged my eyes as I was observed working on my final few files and documents on my computer while seated in my office chair. The papers were so dispersed across the floor that I can no longer tell which is finished and which is unfinished. Every time the pen's ink drags across the paper, I hope it will eventually run out. When that happens, I get up and go outside the office to obtain more ink. For me, the office serves more as a prison than a place of employment. If I don't finish my work, the doors will get locked if I leave without a valid explanation.

Since everything is electronic, there is no natural light to be seen, and because books were haphazardly stuffed into the bookcases, the walls are black. At least one of them I've never read. I don't understand the point of reading novels that are not enjoyable. They were only there for aesthetic purposes. I constantly forget to dust the dirt out of the corners, so they are dusty. I occasionally glanced at the door in the hopes that someone would enter merely to talk. Whatever it is, at least say something to break the stillness.

My hands started to get numb, and my eyes pulled themselves back to the paper. The number of files would increase daily. And once I finish one sheet, more seem to appear out of nowhere. Probably my eyes, or perhaps I'm just weary. I'll quickly complete these before going to bed. I quickly completed each one while being cautious because I knew Sir Mori would not like my work if it had rips or sloppy calligraphy. My eyelids begin to droop as the pen dribbles down the paper. I leaned my head on the palm of my hand, opened and then shut.

As the final piece of paper was signed and read, I yawned. As my legs uncrossed, I sketched my arms. I turned around to face the door. The idea of someone entering entirely failed despite my wishes. I'm astonished, but why? I never have my wishes fulfilled anyway. I looked at the clock while slowly removing each paper from my desk and the floor.

"5:45pm, I have time.."

I whispered as the deadline of these due would be 6:00pm sharp. No late, no later. Hirotsu gave me a tiny bow as I hastily exited the room and strolled through the hallways. But there was another figure near him that I noticed; they had long, black hair and dark gray eyes. Some of the shoulder-length hair was left down while the rest of the hair was kept in a spiked bun. The person was dressed in black slacks and a short-sleeved v-neck gray shirt. a long, hooded, black cloak with tattered trim. Less shocking was the mask that covered their lips and nostrils. We're they new? I'm not too sure, as they could be old as I don't interact with many people here in the Mafia.

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