Okay, compared to the last chapter, this one is actually shorter.

Actually.

And someone in the review asked if Goku Black would be in this fanfic. I'll clarify it right now (I actually should have left this on the first chapter) this happened BEFORE Mr. Z met Goku. So there will be no Goku Black in this story. Gowasu's really seemingly redundant task put upon Zamasu actually serves a purpose and that purpose is what he and you guys will learn as the story goes. This will also be posted in the DragonBall Super category thingy (but does that mean I gotta copy and reupload this completely? Please let me know if any of you may).

«•»«•»«•»«•»«•»«•»

Open Doors

«•»«•»«•»«•»«•»«•»

They got home that night. Zamasu didn't say anything, he was silent, he went straight upstairs. He went into that large bathroom and took a quick shower, Irene had to show him how to use it beforehand, and he stayed silent the whole time. He stayed silent in the shower, he stayed silent, when he got out, he stayed silent when he reached his room in nothing more than a towel.

But he groaned extra loud when he finally plopped down on his bed.

He ran his fingers through his gray mohawk, and sighed; he spent three hours outside of her house and with other people. Three hours doing so amazingly well at not wanting to crush skulls and crush them all to the depths of a fiery, scalding pit. Three whole hours of constant chattering (the only relatively good thing was that lava cake, which he still won't admit is something he kind of wanted right now), and three whole hours having to sit next to that wretched woman who pulled him into such an annoying conglomerate. Three. Damned. Hours. Wasn't this a feat?

It should be.

So he wore his underclothing of his uniform, this time he didn't wear the armor as well, and went downstairs and back to his most tolerable spot of her house: the backyard, the open field of greenery and cool, calm wind. And he laid in the grass, and then he closed his eyes and cleared his mind. And then he inhaled, and then exhaled, doing his best to completely forget about what he had to go through in the evening.

That was nearly two weeks ago. Right now, it was in the morning, and Zamasu was still laying in the grass with his eyes closed, his white mohawk blew softly in the breeze. He looked pristine, peaceful and tranquil, like an individual who didn't think about wanting to make an entire species spontaneously combust with his willpower. He wasn't sleeping, gods and their apprentices don't sleep-

Okay, no they do, but like… they do it solely whenever they wanted to. They don't need it as much as their flawed two-legged duo-hemisphere nutcase brained creations did.

Clearly, he was in a meditative state. As a Kaioshin, sitting and ruminating was very common, aside from reading a whole lot and being vigilant supervisors, some of them reach that stature. So you could say that peace and intelligence were two main rivets to the Kaioshin race, and the ones who are to supervise are the ones with the greatest peak of those two aspects completely. They are the ones who have mastered the balance between knowledge and tranquility. And here's where you might be thinking how the blue turtle shell heck do those even go together?

Well, think of it like this. When you know much of a thing, you'll find the need to tell and expel that information wherever you go. And if it's something that makes you feel some type of way, you may act out on that information. Start to learn a whole lot about something that is hugely conflicting, and you'll find that you'll feel annoyed by it, and then angry towards it, and in time it might turn into hate, and then you might start acting on that hate. Then you find, after reflecting on your behavior, that you have learned nothing while being so spiteful because you were running on nothing but emotion. What you learned may have changed over time, but your emotions towards it haven't, then you'll have a whole lot of ground to cover at that point. And maybe a lot of facepalming at the stuff you've missed while flailing your arms and rolling your eyes in irritation.

Being emotionally attached to something that is flawed causes you to distort your perception of that being, to the point where everything becomes skewed into your own judgement rather than being seen in a non-judgemental way. Judging is what keeps you away from peace in the first place.

So then why did this green Shinjin apprentice that's laying on this planet's grass seek peace all the while not looking at humans from a non-judgemental point of view? And why did he not take into account that knowledge and peace should come together respectively, and not subjectively? Was that the one thing he wasn't seeming to get, was it attachment that he need to get rid of in order to see and accept human beings for their horrid imperfections? If he didn't care, if he wasn't attached to them, why did he hate them in the first place, and why did he choose to continue hating them until now?

Those questions were not posed by him and his thoughts. They were posed by the author.

He opened his eyes, pupils contracted from the introduced sunlight, he felt calm and at ease again. Green hands unraveled from underneath his head, and he propped himself up on his elbows. His earrings swayed slightly with his white hair, and now he fully sat up. It was a rare sight to see Zamasu not fully wearing his uniform, complete with the armor and everything. It was even rarer to see him smile at the beauty of the sky while he was on Desna.

On a piece of land that belonged to someone he hated so much.

He cracked his neck, stood up, stretched, and turned to the kitchen door. He needed to get a book to read and pass time with, so he walked to the door and opened it a took a step in. Immediately, he was met with delicious aromas that nearly made his nose flare, and a certain someone jumping, dancing and skipping around the kitchen while making breakfast. Irene had a pair of black leggings on with an oversized blue T-shirt, her hair was wild and free, and she was now holding the spatula like it was a microphone. She literally spun around, and stopped completely in the most awkward position when she made eye contact with the Kaioshin leaning against her kitchen door.

His eyebrow had never been so far up his forehead in a long time.

Irene rightened her position, took off her earbuds, looking down at the counter while doing so. Then she looked back at his What the hell are you doing face. "Good moriiiiiiing."

Zamasu frowned, and opened his mouth like he wanted to say something, but then stopped and just sighed. He stepped completely into her house and closed her door, he didn't face her. "What is wrong with you?"

She giggled. "I was just dancing, you never seen't anyone dance before?"
"That was dancing?" It wasn't like she was bad at it at all, whatever she did just looked ugly to him.

"Like you could even dance." She stuck her face at him with her hands on her hips.

"You shouldn't be talking to me with such attitude." He looked her up and down in annoyance.

"You sound like my mom right now. And last time I checked, you weren't the one raising me."

"She did a terrible job at that."

He was surprised that she didn't rebuke as fast because she was relatively taken aback at how blunt his claim was. She knew damn well that she was raised in a well family, so there was no need to get upset at what he said. "Sure thing she did, your Honor."

One day, she might just get punched in the face for being so sarcastic all the time. One day, she might just get slapped for not taking him seriously. That last part is bound to happen. He went to where the bookshelves were to get a random book, and was about to go back outside when a particular thought ran through his mind.

That smells really good.

No, no, no, he did not need food to survive, and he definitely did not want to eat anything made by her right now. Even though he may have had waffles that she prepared for him, but that was before, and right now she just pissed him off greatly.

But the smell… it's almost divine...

Made by a young woman who couldn't keep her trap shut clean, who apparently is having a hard time comprehending just how strong he was, and who really really is in need of being strangled. Irene had not an ounce of respect for him nor did he think she'd respect herself at all, since she has the nerve to speak so brashly to someone who literally could impale her without even trying. So why the heck would he even want to eat whatever she was making? She was horrible, disgusting, and whatever she did was just as horrible and disgusting as she purely is. Why would he waste his time wanting to eat from a lowly being like her-

"What is in that pot?"

In what type of world would you live in where your spoken words completely opposed whatever you were thinking right on the spot?

She leaned against the counter, looking over in the direction of the dining room. She smiled. "Umm, that right there is gonna be some hashbrowns and the scones are…" a soft 'ding' noise went off and Irene's eyes lit up, "done right now." She pulled out a pie pan from the oven, and the fresh scent of vanilla hit Zamasu's nose like a truck. She started to cut the little pie into equal triangle pieces. He took a deep breath; he won't put his mouth near that.

She then grabbed this little bottle with a tiny nozzle, it had some sort of white sauce in it, and she started drizzling that icing onto the scones and Zamasu's eyes followed the icing's drippy consistency, it flowed down the soft, tender scones perfectly. He swallowed.

"And the hashbrowns are done." She opened the pot, and the initial scent that he was introduced to was amplified by like tenfold, and now his mouth was kind of watering. She placed all of the food onto the kitchen counter, since the only people who will be eating are her and hi-

NO, NO, he will not eat any of her food. She pissed him off, she angered him, he will not eat from her hand. At all. "Zamasu."

He blinked at her.

"Aren't you hungry? Come sit and eat before you go outside again."

Temptation… it was tempting to sit there and ingest all of that good food that was sitting there, fresh and hot, beckoning and teasing his and his tastebuds. "I'm not hungry. I don't need food."

"You don't need it, but you know you waaaaant it, my boy." She went to him and took his wrist and he instantly snatched it from her.

"What are you doing?"

"I know you want to eat, come and sit." She crossed her arms, and he scoffed.

"You have the nerve to speak to me so belligerently, and now you think I am going to eat your food?"

She sighed. "Okay, take it as my apology then. But if you don't want to eat then I guess I'll have all of this delicious goodness all for myself." She skipped back to the counter, pulling out her plate.

And then he broke. "You humans with your selfish behavior! You won't dare to eat all of that in my presence, you wench!" He literally stomped over to where she was and demanded a plate. She laughed, but still took out a plate, however she didn't hand it to him. She put it in front of his seat, along with a fork and a knife, and he narrowed his eyes at her.

"I'ma serve you."

"No you're not."

"Why not?"

"I don't trust you."

She frowned. "Bro, I served you the last time."
"I have a name, you know." He shouldn't have said that, because what she said next made his eye twitch.

"Okay, Zama-choo, I served you before. Why are you not letting me?"

"I already told you why."

She still was holding the serving spatula in her hand making her way to the hashbrowns. "I'm not gonna butcher my own food because you're eating too. I'm not that petty-" She took a slice of a hash, and raised a hand at Zamasu's threatening glare. "It's for me, for fucks sake."

Zamasu walked over and took the spatula out of her hand when she was done, so that way she wouldn't play games with him before he wanted to eat. He served himself, sat down, and took a nice little bit-

By the Gods, how does this taste so amazing?

"I can see that you like it."

His eye twitched, she was speaking again. She was speaking again, and it ruined the savorous moment that he just had. If only he had the generosity to actually say that her cooking was nice, but he did because humans are ugly creatures. So he didn't say anything, he just glared at her and continued eating. They both stayed that way, in silence, no party initiating anything, luckily for Zamasu.

Irene shifted in her seat. She was more than lucky to have enough culinary smarts to make amazing food, and not take to waste money on takeouts and junk. That's the perks of being raised in a first-generation family, matter of fact just about in any cultured family in general; she shared that aspect with Jay, he could make a mean ass bowl of ramen noodles. Adrian on the other hand, was actually really good with pastries. He is likely more husband material since he could make his own meals; and Jay could be, but he literally is the antithesis of settling down. Rebecca wasn't that good of a cook, but Irene has been teaching her a few things here and there. It isn't enough for Rebecca to almost accidentally burn Irene's kitchen mat, but she's getting there by baby steps. The kitchen mat thing actually happened, they were teenagers, but we aren't going to talk about that.

She leaned forward, suddenly reminded of her uterus' painful 7-day long coup d'etat. A tiny noise escaped her lips, it made the Kaioshin across from her flick his eyes in her direction.

"Cramps." Was the simple answer to the unspoken question that he probably wasn't even asking in the first place.

Zamasu looked down at his plate, which was technically empty if you can call it that of course, and then he looked at the rest of the hashbrowns. His eyes flicked back to his plate and then at the wonderfully steamy tray of still-hunting hashbrowns.

You know, he didn't resist it the first time. But it's always better to dust yourself off and just try again, right?

"You can get some more if you want, you know."

Grey, irritated eyes went to the blinking black woman on the other side of the table. "I don't want anymore."

"You're staring at it like you want to vacuum the entire shit. Just go up and get it, and stop being so petty."

Her playful attitude didn't go unnoticed by Zamasu, but he wasn't playing any games. He got up, walked to where she was sitting and looked at her real close. His grey eyes suddenly had this cutthroat (not literally) look, it was enough to actually make Irene put her fork down and shift away from him in her seat. Quietly, of course. "Do you think you can talk like that to me, and walk away with both of your arms intact?"

His voice was really low, Irene didn't think he could get angry at this, especially with all the 'transgressions' she kept making within the past month and a half. Of all the the names se's called him and he gets mad at this? Maybe I could have worded it a bit differently - no, she couldn't have. If she did, he probably wouldn't have reacted anyway.

"I'm speaking to you, woman."

You could feel the heat and anger coming from this man's voice. Irene should tread carefully with this, because she didn't know if he was gonna hold himself at Bay, or if her eyeballs were going to end up gouged and thrown on the floor. "Zamasu," this was one of those rare moments where Irene was afraid, not of the way he came up on her primarily, but more on the unpredictability of this situation. "I'm not trying to start anything here, okay. I am just saying that you can go get some more food over there. I am not gonna castigate you for it." She had a calm voice, and a calm demeanor, something told her that if she answered him in fear, he would have perpetuated the whole situation more than he did.

Instead, his eyes burned into her face, and then he took a deep breath, turned around and walked away.

Okay, low-key she was expecting him to scream into her ear for some reason. But it seems like he swallowed the urge to do something physical to her, and with that deep breath she knew he would have given her the wettest work if he hadn't taken a moment to inhale. He now took his plate, placed it in the sink, and then went back outside, surprisingly he actually closed the door softly.

And that alone was what scared her the most. He had that anger bottled up within him and it didn't even look like it was all on her. It was more like all the anger he felt towards her species all in one sentence, weighed completely with malice and disdain. In case if y'all hadn't known, that's thousands of years of anger. Obviously, she probably now should tone down the jokes and playful attitude with this guy…

...And maybe wait about a week or more to do the shit again. Yep, that sounds reasonable.

x¤×¤×¤×¤×¤×¤×¤×¤×¤×¤×¤×¤×¤×¤x

Jay was a nice guy.

Jay was diligent; he'd spend many hours in the studio trying to get one little thing perfect. He'd turn knobs, slide modulators, input synths and melodies, listen to it once, twice, twenty times, and then do the whole thing again. And again. And again. He's done this for eight years now, four of which were of professional status.

But he was going through one of those weird phases; the 'ADHD musical prolapse'. I promise you, the name could have been better if it wasn't described the way that it is going to be. He would find a sound, put it in, like it, and then tweak it and make another sound, and then he'll like that to the point where he'd completely lose track of what the song was supposed to feel like.

Adrian walked in the studio at one point, and back pedaled out of the room because Jay, in his disheveled, baggy eyed slouched stature, turned down with the most evil look on his face. And it was by accident too, he spent a few hours working on one single track.

By a few hours, about almost three days.

Technically two days and about… 14 hours. It's not that much.

Jay ruffled his hair for the umpteenth time since he had started. His stomach was growling loudly; he hadn't eaten since this morning, which was around 7 in the morning, and it's 8 at night now. He only had a breakfast burrito and two bananas, but now he was too lazy to stop doing his line of work to get up and get himself something to eat. You see how that is hugely contradictory? How can one be too lazy to get something to eat?

That kind of logic works when you spend 62 hours wide awake suffering from musician's block.

His phone rang, and he nearly jumped out of his seat and busted his ass on the floor. Already stressed and pissed, he pursed his lips and grabbed his phone, he closed his eyes before he could look at the caller ID, and took a really deep breath. Mainly because whoever just called him was about to get cut and cursed out and you really don't want Jay of all people cursing you out at 8PM. He opened his eyes and out the phone to his ear, literally about to grit his teeth but he kept his composure.

"Who the fuck are you and what the fuck do you want?"

Almost kept most of his composure.

"Bruh, you didn't look at who was calling first?" It was Adrian. Instantly, his angry demeanor went back down a little bit because of his sidekick's playful voice.

"Oh…" That's all he could say. That's all you could say when you're tired and stressed.

Adrian laughed on the other end. "You're still in the studio? You haven't ate in mad long and that's fucking surprising."

"Shut up, I have ate something before." Jay ran his hands through his hair, and got it stuck where a hair band was tied loosely on the back. He pulled it off quick as hell because that was going to get him stressed too.

"Yeah, bullshit. When did you eat?"

"Like… not long ago." Tired people usually suck at lying by default, to be honest.

"A.K.A this morning?" The intonation this guy had was as if he asked a question that he already knew the answer to.

Jay scratched the back of his head, and spoke in the meekest voice possible. "Umm… yea."

And then he laughed again. And then Jay's stomach growled louder and it made Adrian stop laughing. "Dude I can hear your shit on the phone, fam. Look, I went out and got some food for you and me."

He sat up. "What is the food?"

Adrian snorted, and Jay made a note to throw something at him when he returns for poking fun at his sudden shitty English. "It's uhh… from two different places. Two pizzas and a thing of seafood from Yang's, there's sushi in there."

Yang's is Jay's to-go spot for authentic Asian cuisine. You'll never find someone who puts as much emphasis on Asian food as Jay, being that he's been to several countries in Asia already, and he is Asian too.

"Oh shit, thanks bro."

"No problem, fam." Jay smiled even though Adrian wasn't there. The one thing that he truly needed the most was food; his stomach growling disrespectfully for the past hour and the lack of sleep causes him to become irrational. Luckily, that trait hasn't been exhibited because he's been in this room for hours. At least he can eat while working on this piece.

"But when I get home, yo ass better come the fuck downstairs and eat in the dining room, I don't want to bring my food and have you take it into the studio."

Nevermiiiiiiind… He kissed his teeth and pouted. "Do I look like your fucking wife? Let me eat where I wanna eat in peace."

"I know that I come through with the food, you'll take it upstairs and you wouldn't even eat it completely so stay your ass downstairs." Adrian was actually irritated at the way Jay would work and completely forget his basic human needs. He really wanted his friend to eat something, because Adrian didn't want Jay jeopardizing his health, and mostly because Jay would lose his temper very easily with almost everything that didn't have to do with producing.

"I'm gonna eat, don't worr-"

"Down. The fuck. Stairs." He ain't playing no games. It was better to oblige, Jay didn't want to be picked up and thrown onto the sofa again.

"Fiiiiine. Can I hang up now?" he asked that because he obviously agreed to something that he didn't really want to do, but hey, it's food. And for him, it's free.

"Well you can. But I really want you to get off and relax for a minute before I return."

He said a minute, so that means Jay could sit here and work until Adrian is a minute away. He may not know where he is but a minute is only 60 seconds, that's not a lot of time.

"I will, I will. You don't need to baby me all the time."

"This is one of those rare times where you literally forget that food exists."

He's not wrong. "Okay fine! I'll just chill downstairs until you come by." No, he'll continue working until the doorbell rings and then he'll run to open it and sit down on the couch as if he was there ever since the call started. Sounds like a sweet, productive plan, and Jay was more than stoked to get his not-really-final touches on this track.

And then the doorbell rang.

What an asshole.

So Jay groaned like a dying man and stood up lazily, instantly bending over because of the sudden stretch in his legs. He had this hunched over walk while he was going down the stairs, while he was semi-walking through the living room, and while he was opening the door. And sure enough, Adrian's smug stupid smile ass face was there.

"...Heyyyyyyyy…" Jay stood straight this time, and then leaned forward a bit. He literally tried to sprint to the door, and now it was giving him a tiny bit of vertigo.

"You see, I told your ass to lay off the damn- dude are you okay?" He walked in and popped the question as soon as he noticed Jay couldn't stay still and was swaying like he was drunk. Okay, maybe it was giving him a lot of vertigo. Now Adrian was holding Jay's shoulder.

"I'm okay, for fucks sake. Let go of me." His eyes went straight to the food, which Adrian was holding the pizza tray and the box of Himuran seafood in one hand. His reaction was super animated, he literally came up on Adrian and grabbed the food from him with specialized care. "Hold that with both your hands! You're gonna drop everything!"

"Bro I have better grip on anything right now compared to your pseudo-drunk ass." Of course, Jay now had that dramatic gait of a disgruntled teenaged girl. He passed the living room and went to the dining room, placing the food on the tray while looking back every few seconds. Then he took the box of seafood, looking at it's contents and savoring the beautiful aesthetic that his favorite restaurant always came correct with. To be honest, anything looks pretty when you've been staring at plugins, oscillators and pattern sequences for hours. His hands glazed over the top, then he turned around and made a beeline for the stairs.

Unfortunately, his dick-headedly concerned friend grabbed him before he could even get a foot halfway through the living room, god dammit.

"Where do you think you're going? You're staying down here and eating your shit."

Jay blinked. Now his long tousled hair was all over the place and Adrian's arm was in his face because apparently you can't catch someone without picking them up sideways. "You're lucky I didn't have the food in my hands otherwise I woulda' clipped your ass." This is how you know Jay is tired; if he's in a physically stuck situation, he would usually be calm and methodical in trying to get out. Right now, he's thrashing sideways in Adrian's strong arms low-key knowing he can't get out. Finally he got tired, if that's even possible, and just groaned. "Let go of me, you fuck."

"Okay, okay I will, geez." He released him, like Jay said, and Jay fell on the floor. Simultaneously Adrian backed away a good ten feet from possibly getting an uppercut to his groin. "Why were you running upstairs for?"

"I have to change because I look-" And feel, "Like utter shit."

"Uh huh." Adrian knew Jay very well. Jay couldn't give two shits while he walked around the house in boxers. His appearance at home means nothing at all. "Are the studio lights still on?"

Jay was a great liar, but he's too tired to come up with a rebuttal so he settled for the easiest lie that there was. "No."

"Bullshit." Adrian started up the stairs and Jay got up so fast that his vertigo got even worse and he ended up falling on Adrian's back.

"...Can you let go of my shirt?"

"I will if you turn the fuck around, and walk the fuck back in the fucking dining room." Another thing; even though Jay swears, he doesn't swear excessively when he's not tired.

"Look if you're still working on that track, then save it, and work on it tomorrow. You haven't slept since Tuesday."

"So?! That's fucking nothi- wait…What day is it today?"

"It's Thursday."

Jay went silent, blinked and was about to rebuke and say 'that's not that much' but Adrian cut him off, took him by the arms and walked him to the couch. He sat him down. "Stay the fuck here. I'll go save your project and then turn it off."

"But why can't I do it?" It's as if he was a little kid being scolded, and surprisingly enough Adrian is the least mature out of the two of them. Such a weird dynamic.

"You say you're gonna leave it now, and then you'll say you're gonna leave it six hours later."

It took him a moment to get that because he was far too fucking tired to understand anything other than basic English. "Well…" he was right. Jay deflated. "Fine, go… turn... it off…" he literally yawned twice in between one word. Adrian didn't even stay to hear him finish his sentence, he just went off and did what he said he would. When Adrian came back, he changed into a pair of sweats and still kept his V-neck shirt on because why not. "Come on, let's go eat."

Jay looked at him, his hair was so messy it looked like he just came out of bed. The very thought of his bed made him yawn again. "Okay…" losing all the energy to fight back, he stood halfway, and then fell back on the seat. Adrian just shook his head.

"This is what happens when you don't sleep for three days."

"It was less than three." He raised his finger matter-of-factly, and then stretched.

"Whatever, same difference. Now let's goooo." Adrian went to go pick the Asian male up and he sunk back into the couch.

"No, no, you go eat. I'm too tired to... move and things." Jay seriously couldn't get up on his own. If he sat in the dining room, he will end up face first on the table. But of course, Adrian being the asshole caring friend that he is, picks Jay up and puts him across from where he would be sitting. When he was placed down, Jay almost placed his head on the table but he kept his posture straight just to keep from sleeping. He slowly opened his box while Adrian was in the kitchen doing something.

"Oh nooo… chopstiiiicks." Jay swiveled lazily in his seat and made a tired grabbing motion. "Can you pass me my chopsticks?"

Adrian looked at him. Their kitchen was pretty big, it was connected to the dining room so Adrian only had to turn his head to look at Jay. "Aight." He took Jay's black chopsticks that he got from China, and tossed them directly at the man.

"Are you deadass right now?" He only flinched and raised his hands in an attempt to catch it, but one ended up on his lap and the other hit his hand and landed on the table. Jay's reflexes were nearly non-existent right now, how in the hell did Adrian expect Jay to catch anything, let alone two freaking chopsticks?

"You said to pass it." He approached him with that smirk on his face knowing that Jay couldn't catch them anyway, and Jay balled his fists.

"I feel like duffing you, I swear."

"You can't even catch shit and you're gonna fight me?" Adrian chuckled and sat down to his slices of pizza, that were just heated from the micro-oven. "Sit up tired ass down and eat."

So Jay did, but it won't be long until he gets his fucking comeuppance, that fucking bi- "Why do I have to eat? I'm tired, I can barely keep my eyes open."

Adrian looked up from taking a bite. "Becaaaaauuuuse you can't sleep on an empty stomach."

Jay blinked. "But I've been awake on an empty stomach. It's not that bad."

Adrian straight faced. "Yesterday, I walked in the studio and you threw your socks at me for making a joke."

The Asian male raised a brow. He did that? I don't even remember that… "...I did?"

"Yes." He crossed his arm, holding the pizza in the other.

"But…" Jay finally ate one bit of sushi and paused just to revel at the amazing taste. He even almost forgot what he was saying. "But like… that was just a sock."

"You were gonna throw your keyboard at me too."

"What?!" He didn't even tell, his voice did this voice crack thing where it sounded like he was yelling but it was more like a croak. "Why the hell would I do that."

"I don't fucking know, you were tired? Ask yourself that 24 hours ago, dunce."

"Eh, shush." Having no rebuttal for that, Jay went back to eating slowly. If he didn't do so, he more than likely would have caught vertigo and an impending stomachache from eating too fast. That makes a lot of sense. His thoughts, surprisingly kind of coherent, went back to the events that happened over the week. The last two days went by in a distorted blur, Monday was actually quiet, the two spent the day being children and playing video games, that night was where Jay started getting inspiration for this song. He called up Irene on Sunday just for the sake of it. The call was supposed to be less than a minute but it turned into forty five minutes of bullshitting around, and throughout the call Irene would be talking to Zamasu, and half the time the guy sounded like Jay would every morning on a school day.

He wasn't a morning person. At all. Even though he was a straight A student, he hated the heck out of the subjects he were put into. They were too overly-consistent; there wasn't anything hard about them, what makes it hard is the asston and-then-some of work that comes along with it.

He wasn't even that surprised; Irene gave Jay and the others a low-down on him through a group chat. Jay wasn't that judgemental, but the way he would dismiss Irene's taunting or whatever it was reminded him of how a teenager would disown whatever an elder would say, which was funny because apparently that Zamasu-guy is thousands of years old. Go figure.

Last Wednesday was tiring. Irene woke him up via text, and he was in the middle of an amazing freaking nap. You ever wake up with a bunch of lines on your face and arms from the pillows and sheets? Yes, that kind of nap.

Honestly, despite the entire hangout being overall great, he didn't like being the one to sit next to Rebecca. If it weren't for Adrian being next to him too, he probably would have scooted all the way to the edge, no it's not mean. And if it were James sitting with him in between the two, Jay would have had his lips pursed the whole time. It's not mean.

He just doesn't like them. They always look a certain type of way, and Jay could spot sketchy people from a mile and a half. It's something you develop after being exposed to the rurals and the city throughout your life. Different people you meet give you various perspectives on others in general. And give you various perspectives on how patient jealousy can be.

Okay, okay, maybe it's just the lack of sleep, maybe it's his judgemental side kicking in, that's a little too much of a stretch. He can't just naturally say that Rebecca is jealous of her best friend like that, but the girl has something that just seems to be a little… left.

He was about take a sip of his water, but then ended up halfway missing his mouth and some of the water fell on his shirt.

"Fhuck." He couldn't even speak properly. All the energy that he could possibly have right now was gone from digesting his food, and thinking about the days beforehand. He felt a hand take his arm and tug his tired ass a bit.

"Okay, you're finished already, you can go sleep now." Adrian took his empty box and plopped it into the garbage, placing Jay's chopsticks in the sink. Jay on the other hand stretched again and yawned.

"Can you...help me?"

Adrian turned around, eyebrow raised. "What?"

"Carry meeee." Jay was too exhausted to stand, he make a grabbing motion with both his hands.

"...You serious?" Adrian was seriously asking, because Jay would never ask someone to do that for him. Yup, he was finished beyond belief. So Adrian went over and picked him up bridal style(because he was certain if he slung him over his shoulder, Jay would catch vertigo again), and made his way up the stairs to Jay's room. Once he reached the bed, he stopped caring so much about Jay's possible risk of vertigo, and just tossed him onto his bed.

The Asian male sat up, and reached for a book on his nightstand to throw at Adrian's nose bridge. Instead, it ended up a few feet away from him, and Jay gave up on trying to be an angry man, slumping back into the bed.

Adrian took off his shirt, deciding he'd wear a sweater because the air conditioner was on blast. They had an automated system where the air conditioner would turn on or off if the house reached a certain temperature. "I'm gonna go back downstairs and watch a movie. I better not see you wake up at 4 AM just to work on that track. I know you like to get things finished but please… I don't want you throwing my chair at me and then forgetting you did so several hours later, aight?" No response, just silence. Adrian turned. "Aight?"

Jay was already knocked out, deep asleep within a span of thirty seconds.

Adrian snorted, approaching the bed and pulling the blanket over him. He walked out of the room without a word, leaving Jay in his own world of unconsciousness, and leaving his shirt on Jay's floor.

†¦†¦†¦†¦†¦†¦†¦†¦†¦†

Another.

Damned.

Visitor.

It's almost every single week Irene calls up her friends, but this time Zamasu made a point earlier today to not mess with him. Unless if she wanted her insides spread across her beloved living room carpet.

He was now in his room laying on his bed, reading another one of the books from her shelf. The book itself was a collection of short stories, in which Zamasu found some being really funny and some being very suspenseful. The running theme in all of these stories, he noticed, was that the person, or people involved in each story, had some troubling issues about them. There was always something that he pinpointed a little off in their actions and dialogue, and for some reason most of these stories started and ended happily with the person not realizing their glaring flaws. Except for one particular story, where an old man was fearful and mostly anxious of everything; his past, his present, and his future. In essence, that fear and anxiety turned into nervousness which made him very easily irritated and ungrateful, until he went to a flower shop and was glancing all over at nature's beautiful and various hues. One particular flower caught his eye; an agrimony, which he bought from the store in a heartbeat. Every time he'd look at the agrimony he'd find himself to be more and more calm, and over time, he became more thankful of the world around him, and of everything that has happened to him, whether it be good or bad, because those events are what led him to live for so long. He started to exert kindness and peace everywhere he went, and realized that that was what made him feel the best.

Seeing the types of books in someone's house shows a lot about the person. If the books are academic, then the person has scholar tendencies, and if they're celebrity-like magazines, the person might have a tendency to gossip. Irene had a wide range of books, which shows that she's interested in a lot of things. Some books were dusty from not being touched, and they were either textbooks, or some old stories that he didn't look into yet.

He didn't want to go down because there were people he didn't know, and probably did not like downstairs, but he also was almost done with this book and didn't want to sit here unoccupied. So he now just sits here… stuck.

He heard footsteps coming upstairs and assumed they were Irene's. Zamasu didn't pay no mind to them until he realized they were coming closer to his room. He literally tensed up a bit, and the footsteps went passed his door. Ugh…

The last thing he wanted was another encounter by the stupid woman, he was growing tired of her idiocy, only a month and some time had passed and he was really close to twisting her neck. A door opened outside of his room and he heard footsteps that came to a stop, and he could tell they weren't by the stairs.

Two knocks came from his door.

Zamasu inhaled deeply and he stood up and walked, or semi-stomped, to his door. Irene is going to get punched, he's going to open his door, and he won't even let her open her mouth, his fist will be lodged into her face. You know what, maybe her mouth should be open so that way when he punches her, there's a high possibility of her teeth falling out or ending up horribly crooked, and she'll never be able to speak again. That's sounds really, really nice.

His hand grabbed the knob and he turned it quickly, and then opened the door with his other hand in a fist. She won't bother him this time, she will leave him alo-

"Oh… I didn't know this was your room. Hello, Zamasu."

ll•ll•ll•ll•ll•ll•ll•ll•ll•ll•ll

Hey hey, look okay that cliffhanger wasn't as amazing as it sounds, this chapter is also really long, but y'all didn't think I would upload on April Fool's day, huh? Well, you would've fuckin' thought.

I dunno if some of you are savvy with some New York slang, but the word 'duff' basically means 'punch'. Like if you wanna smack someone straight into Saturn's rings without a passport, you say you wanna duff them.

Just so you know.

And also, the story with the agrimony isn't an actual story, I just made that up. The agrimony represents thankfulness symbolically, and has been used for mainly medicinal and healing purposes throughout history. These author's notes might be all over the place, because technically I'm all over the place; there's the SATS and a few midterms just waiting around the corner, I squeezed this in right before test time because it's convenient *snaps fingers*. I'll see you all in the next upload : 3