Port Mafia Writing Diary

I suddenly thought of what I had confessed to Oda Sakunosuke before going out.

When he got his mind together, he curiously asked Osamu Dazai: "Hey, can you tell me some interesting stories? I want to write a novel."

"Fiction?" Osamu Dazai smiled, "It was Oda who persuaded him."

I nodded vigorously, holding my face with one hand, intoxicated: "My dear, I also want to try the story I have worked so hard to write."

"Wait, your name is Odasaku?" Osamu Dazai froze.

Those of Xingsuke stepped forward and enthusiastically shared the things I was with Oda Sakunosuke.

The bar owner almost broke the bottle when he heard this.

Finally, he gave me the thumbs up, "You're a good woman."

I nodded shyly. It seems that everyone can see that I am a good match for Oda Sakunosuke, and I will be super nice to him in the future.

Osamu Dazai laughed loudly at this time.

He seemed to be holding his stomach in pain, and quickly said congratulations, and quickly told me a story.

For example, a teenager who realizes that he is not human after many years is devastated by the people who brought him into this world.

I asked, "What happened next?"

Dazai Osamu: "He killed that person. Then, he was led to the correct organization by a super handsome and wise peer, and accepted the teaching of the organization."

The story is a bit nonsensical, but inexplicably I found some interesting places.

I continued to ask for details. Osamu Dazai was still patient at the beginning, but after I deeply questioned the boy and the person who brought him into the organization, he began to be as brief as possible.

Finally, Dazai Osamu reminded: "It's getting late, go back quickly. Oda Saku, I'm afraid he's still at home waiting for you to feed him."

I thought about it instantly, blushed and nodded vigorously, "Thank you for reminding me."

Then, I went home with five kids.

After dinner that night, Oda Sakunosuke washed the dishes ahead of me.

When I was about to help, he hesitated: "You may have misunderstood, the relationship between us—"

I suddenly said, "Hey, Sakunosuke, I know what story I want to write."

He paused, staring at me like a star: "Ling, let's talk about it in another place."

In the living room, a few children were playing around. Oda Sakunosuke patiently listened to the story I learned from Dazai Osamu. He touched his chin with his hand, as if recalling something, "This person's story is a little familiar, but I can't remember it. Who is it?"

"If you can't remember it, don't think about it. Now, I'll write it, and I'll show it to you when it's finished."

I quickly went back to the house, took out the pen and paper that Oda Sakunosuke had prepared for me, and quickly weaved words in my brain. The moment I picked up the pen, many things were written out very naturally.

This will be a short story.

The ultimate contest between the war weapon girl and the boy who is both good and evil.

In this world, what is more important than love?

I want everyone to feel the love.

I was full of enthusiasm, a series of pictures flashed in my brain, inspiration erupted, I kept writing, the desk lamp was on all night, waiting for the last word, I fell down on the table so sleepy.

Waiting to hear the sound of footsteps approaching, I looked back in the direction of the door in a daze.

Oda Sakunosuke stepped forward and gently touched my head: "It's a little hot, it seems to be a fever caused by staying up late."

I leaned on him subconsciously: "I'm done writing, Sakunosuke, please give me a name."

"Thank you, Ling." The male voice seemed to be much gentler.

When I was half asleep and half awake, I felt that I was being hugged and put on the bed.

Good night, Sakunosuke.