Story is vaguely, VAGUELY inspired by GodricDamp's story, 'My After Story SNAFU', though I tried to write my own stuff. Only the basic premise is the same.

Um, I know some readers like to sort of skim through the text and just absorb dialogue or particular words. This story will not have the same effect if you don't read it properly. Well, do whatever you want I guess.

I turn the bottle of liquor upside down in the air, emptying the contents into my mouth. I don't know if I'm drunk yet, I rarely ever drink, and the feeling of inebriation is unfamiliar to me. To say the least.

I've never been one to drink away my troubles. When I was a troubled middle schooler, I wasn't able to hide behind the emotional release of alcohol, because I was a minor and even a cynical loner cares about his future. By the time I was actually able to drink, the appeal of erasing my problems with such cheap methods had all but faded. After all, I'm usually the type of person who prefers to solve the cause of the problem, rather than deal with the problem presented.

This situation is a little different, though. I've never faced anything like this before. The heartbreak of all those girls I was rejected by in middle school can't even compare. In fact, if I were to see my fourteen-year-old self right now, I'd laugh in his face and tell him to quit being such a pansy, because he doesn't know what heartbreak feels like.

Heartbreak feels like going to surprise your girlfriend of three years at her work, and then finding her tongue down another man's throat. Heartbreak is thinking back and realizing that the signs were there for a long time. Heartbreak is the terrifying thought that the person you love might not even love you at all.

And to think, I had even considered marriage.

I throw the bottle over my shoulder. It whirls through the open door and lands on the hard floor inside our apartment. The sound of glass clunking on the ground is oddly satisfying. I should have thrown it harder. It would have been better if the bottle had smashed. I guess that's it for my drinks tonight. I just downed an entire bottle of whiskey. All that's left to do is wait for the alcohol to take over my consciousness. And, for Iroha to come home.

I really don't want to look at her right now. That's why I'm out on the balcony, leaning on the guard rails and toying with the thought of letting my weight slip over the edge. I don't want to be in our apartment, everything reminds me of her.

Yet in a way, I'm excited to see her. I can't wait to confront her about what she did, just to see how she's going to react. Will she feel remorseful and guilty like she should? Or will she suddenly have a change in personality and let me see her true character, one who never loved me and just needed someone to rely on?

I can't stop thinking about it. They say there's a certain kind of misery that can you can get addicted to. Maybe that's why goth types exist. I wonder if that's the logic behind a netorare fetish?

I sigh. I really should have known. I've always been smart enough to never put all of my trust in another person. Especially not a deceitful fox like Iro-...Isshiki. I should have known when Komachi drifted away from her. When they first met, they were so close. They had a natural synergy like I've never seen before, and they did everything together. At some point -and I have no idea when-, they suddenly weren't so close anymore. Recently, they don't even talk to each other unless they have to.

Always trust in Komachi. Another important life lesson I disregarded when I started dating Isshiki.

My mind trails back to Yuigahama, and how I broke her heart when I chose Isshiki over her. Even with the tears streaming down her face, she congratulated us with a big smile. I still think about that day every so often. Well, I heard Yuigahama found happiness with someone else lately. I'm glad. A good person like Yuigahama deserves to be loved in a way I never could do for her.

Then, there was Yukinoshita. It wasn't until much later that Yukinoshita told me she used to have a crush on me. She told me how disappointed she felt when she learned the feeling wasn't mutual. I had laughed at that, but I never told her why. The reason was, I once had a crush on her too. The irony. Yukinoshita, of all people, had a crush on me. Sine then, I did my best not to think things like 'what a shame' or 'I wonder if...'

Before I can stew on the past any further, I hear the sound of the door handle being fiddled with. My heart rate picks up immediately. I wonder how I should handle this.

"I'm home!" She chimes in her usual airy voice. It pisses me off to think she's going to pretend nothing happened.

"Hachiman, are you home?"

"Yeah, I'm over here." I answer, trying my best to keep my tone neutral.

"Why are you sitting out there with no lights on? It's creepy." She whines.

Either the alcohol isn't settling or the sound of her voice is making me sick. Either way, I don't risk answering her because I'm not sure I could maintain my composure. It's better that I stay calm in this situation, I think. Flying into a rage is just going to give her ammunition.

Flicking the light on, she walks over towards me, throwing her bag onto the couch along the way. She steps out on the balcony with me. I wish she wouldn't.

"Hey, are you alright?" She asks, putting a hand on my chest.

Save your damn sympathy, and don't touch me.

Leaning in, she catches a whiff of the alcohol on my breath.

"Eugh! Have you been drinking?" Her face scrunches up, and she recoils away.

"How was work today?" I ask, forcing a deeper voice in order to keep my tone flat.

She's never been good under pressure. I can tell that she's already suspecting I saw her. If I drag it out a little more, it could be a lot more effective when I reveal what I saw at her office today.

I know it's petty. I know I should be the bigger person here. But I'm bleeding on the inside and the alcohol is clouding my judgement. All the angst and loathing from my younger years which I never found an outlet for is coming back in spades.

"It was fine... What about you?"

Her voice is just the slightest bit unstable. I've got her paranoid, good.

"Oh, rather uneventful. Nothing happened today that doesn't happen every day. But then again, it's a boring job with boring people."

"I see." She replies tensely.

"I finished work early today, actually."

"O-oh?"

"Yeah. Boss's anniversary, he was in a good mood. Said we could all take off an hour early."

"That's nice of Takashi-san. He's usually such a stickler, right?"

"Right." I chirped, giving her a smile that we both know is uncharacteristic of me. It's incredibly effective, I can see the horror creeping into her eyes.

"So, you went to the liquor store to celebrate?"

"Not quite. I went to your workplace to surprise you."

Whoops. I was planning on dragging it out a little longer, but this works too, I guess.

Her expression falls flat, and she takes a step away from me.

"Look, Hachim-"

"And you'll never guess what I saw when I got there. Seriously, you'll never guess. But try to anyway." I raise my eyebrows cheekily, as if we were playing some sort of word game. The facade of pleasantry only serves to crush her further.

"I can explain, seriously."

"Hm? That's not a guess. We're playing a game here, you have to guess what I saw." The insanity of my words actually gives me a twisted sense of amusement.

She starts tearing up. Over the years, the sight of a teary Isshiki has become something capable of triggering some irrepressible paternal instincts from within me. Even now, I feel that same urge. Though I don't even come close to succumbing to it.

"Please, just come inside. I swear I'll tell you everything."

My amusement fades immediately and I feel my face contorting into a scowl. Looks like the fun's over. It's time to really get shitty.

"I will if you can tell me what I saw."

She counters immediately. "I'll tell you if you just come inside."

"I'm not going anywhere with you until you tell me what the hell I saw!" The sound of my own raised voice is unfamiliar to me, and this situation suddenly becomes even more real than it already was. I feel the natural urge to tear up, but many years of forced stoicism allows me to fight it back. For now.

"You know what? Fine. If you want to hear me say it, I will. You saw me kissing another man. Are you happy now!?" Her voice quivers with emotion.

When I finally hear it, the dam breaks, and I feel my eyes rapidly begin to water. Rather than sob, I start to laugh quietly.

"Okay then." I say with a somewhat hysterical giggle. "Let's go inside."

We walk inside, I decide not to close the door to the balcony on the way in. Wordlessly, we sit down on the couch.

At first, silence. Deafening, suffocating, silence.

Then, she speaks. "So what do you want to hear first?"

The simplicity of her question incites an emotion I've never felt before. I can't even describe it. It's not exactly rage, or humor. Rather, it's a sampling of many simple emotions, made into one complicated one. One thing I can say is that it motivates me to see this conversation through, properly.

"Um, I guess my first question would be; who is he?"

Inwardly, I commend myself on my ability to speak calmly. I wasn't sure I could trust my voice just a moment ago. Isshiki tucks her head down, and slouches as if trying to make herself smaller. She starts playing with her fingers, too. At least she's showing signs of guilt.

"His name is Toshiro-san. He's been working there for about a year."

A year huh? I guess there were probably signs even back then. I probably missed them because I had too much faith in our relationship. Wasn't it about a year ago that Komachi suddenly stopped liking her?

"Right, right. Next question; how long has this been going on?"

She looks up at me, with what is probably the fiercest expression she can muster.

"Never! It's never ever happened before today, I swear!"

I resist the urge to scoff. If I show too much emotion, I might crumble and break down pathetically, and she could use that to sweep the entire issue away.

"Yeah, I don't think I'm going to believe that one."

"You have to believe it! It's the truth!"

"I'm not going to just take your word for it. There's far too much evidence suggesting otherwise."

She looks flabbergasted at this. Her incredulous expression might be trying to tell me she's being sincere, but I wouldn't trust the face of a liar anyway.

"What evidence?"

I take a moment to recollect my facts. "For starters, you said you met him a year ago, right? Isn't that about the time Komachi started avoiding you?"

She has the gall to make an offended expression. "Are you kidding me? I stopped talking to Komachi because she blames me for you leaving home!"

I instinctively cross my arms and look forward, towards the dead quiet television. "Don't say her name like that, Isshiki."

She goes quiet. "Hachiman. Please, don't call me that." I try my best to ignore the tears and the shaky voice. Not because I feel guilty, but because it's making me want to cry too.

Instead of answering, I disregard her request entirely. "It doesn't matter how long it's been going on anyway."

"What? How could something like that not matter!? I'm telling you it was only once!"

"Right. So, the one and only time I visit you at your job in over a year, and you just happened to be making out with some guy in the office!"

"YES!" She pleads hysterically. "I know it doesn't sound likely but I swear to you on everything I hold dear that it's the fucking truth!"

Everything you hold dear, huh? I wonder if that includes our relationship.

I sigh. I've already had enough of this, but I'm determined to see it through. "Whatever. Next question. Why did you do it?"

Her energy fades quickly, and she slouches back down and sighs.

"He's been making passes at me for a while now." She says quietly, forcing me to listen closely.

I roll my eyes and cast my gaze in the opposite direction. "How come I never heard about this?"

"I thought I could handle it. I never once thought it would ever amount to anything, so I didn't want you to worry over nothing. Ah-" I'm not looking at her, but it sounds like she just flinched at her poor choice of words.

I say nothing, and the silence prompts her to continue.

"Today, he grabbed me and said he wanted me to be his, and then he forcibly kissed me."

"It didn't look forced from my angle."

"You're right. I... I had a moment of weakness, and without thinking, I kissed him back. Hachiman, you have to listen to me. I would never, ever, choose him or anyone else over you!"

"Then why did you kiss him back!?" I spit harshly, finally turning my sights back to her.

"I wasn't thinking!"

"You weren't thinking about me, you mean!"

"It didn't mean anything to me!"

"I don't care! You should have pushed him off!"

"I KNOW!" She screams at the top of her voice. Then, she starts sobbing miserably.

I don't respond. We sit there on the couch for a while. At some point, the air became cold. Probably because I left the balcony door open. We don't exchange any words. We just cry on the couch. Her, sobbing and myself, quietly allowing the tears to fall. We're sitting on the couch together, but I've never felt so apart from her. Not even when she was a total stranger, coming into our club making a request for the first time.

A few minutes later, I get up and walk to the balcony door, closing it quietly. I walk past the couch, though I'm not sure what I'm going to do. Maybe I'll make some instant ramen or a coffee to sober up.

Before I can decide, Isshiki throws out a critical question. "What happens now?"

It's a question that I had been working on for a couple of hours now. I had come to a conclusion of course, but the logical side of me was saying that it was far too drastic and immature, and that it would change after I had talked the issue through.

It didn't.

"I think..." I begin, giving myself one last chance to reconsider. "I think we're finished."

The words are sour on my tongue, and even though I know it's probably one of the worst answers I could give, I don't feel regret as I say those words.

"Hachiman... no."

"We can sort all the details tomorrow, bu-"

"No!" She interjects.

"Isshiki..."

"Don't call me that!"

I sigh. "Iroha... I'll see you tomorrow."

I make towards the door, but she dashes towards it, stumbling along the way. She slams her own back on the door and stretches her arms out in what seems to be an attempt to block my exit.

I sigh again, and casually walk over to her. "Excuse me please."

She wordlessly shakes her head. The pained expression on her face is hard to look at.

"Iroha..."

"No. I won't let you leave. You have to stay with me. You have to!"

I sigh. "You're being very immature about this."

In the back of my mind, I note the mild hypocrisy in that statement.

"You're drunk and you're not thinking straight. If you go out right now, you'll be arrested for sure. Just let me take care of you for tonight."

"... Alright then."

Out of respect for the three years we had together, I agree to spend one more night in her company. She raises a good point. Leaving now would be rash, and probably more trouble than it's worth. The whiskey probably hasn't even taken full effect on me yet so I might continue to get more drunk than I am, if I recall that one biology lesson correctly.

Hearing my resigned answer, she slumps down to the floor.

Now what? I'm not sure what to do now, or how to act. I've had enough confrontations and drama for one night, I just want to unwind now.

I know it won't be that simple, though. I already know that as long as I'm here, the issue of our relationship is going to be playing on my mind. The best I can do, is turn on the TV, sink into the couch and hope I fall into a drunken coma.

So that's exactly what I do.

Shortly after I sit down, Isshiki gets up from her spot in front of the door and carefully walks past me.

"Are you hungry?"

Either the alcohol is making me lax, or I'm trying to repress the issue. Either way, I respond politely.

"Yeah."

My jacket is suddenly very comfortable and I feel a pleasant warmth in my cheeks. Kicking off my work shoes, I pull my feet up and curl up in the corner of the couch. Is this the true comfort of being drunk? I wonder if I should do this more often. I'm a pretty mellow drunk, too. I'm sure it wouldn't be a huge problem if I got hammered every now and then.

With my free hand, I grab the remote and flick through the channels until I find an old comedy that looks like something my dad would have watched before I was born. I laugh heartily at the jokes in the show, even though I probably wouldn't even flinch at them if I were sober. I feel pretty good right now. The only evidence remaining of my earlier pain is my slightly stinging eyes and the tearstains I can still feel on my cheeks.

A while later, Iroha comes out of the kitchen with something smelling delicious.

"Here." She offers kindly.

"Ah, thank you." I sit up and accept the plate of hot food. Iroha sits down next to me with her own plate.

"Thanks for the meal."
"Thanks for the meal." We say in unison. This might be the last time we do this, but I'm too drunk and hungry to feel bad about it.

I dig in like a wild animal. My food is gone in what might have been a matter of seconds. As I finish my last bite, I lean back and sigh contentedly. For a moment, I just soak in the feeling. I could drift off to sleep right now. I don't, though. I've been conditioned my entire life to clean up after myself, so I get up and take my plate to the kitchen sink. Despite that, I'm actually too lazy to wash my dishes right now. I let them sit there for tonight.

Returning to the couch, I collapse back into my spot, and allow my head to slink off to the side.

"Was it good?"

"It was great, thanks." I reply lazily.

"I'm glad."

I try to absorb myself back into the show again, though I'm not as successful as I was earlier. Even in my current state, I can feel some tension between us. I don't let it bother me, though. Something funny happens on TV, and I give another hearty laugh. The tension from there on is her problem, because I'm suddenly don't care all that much about it.

I'm watching the show for a while when I start to get a little sleepy.

"Hachiman, will you come to bed with me?"

Out of context, that would probably sound like an invitation. Except right now it sounds more like a request.

"Already? What's the time?" I ask. My neck muscles were half asleep and it's somewhat difficult to look at her.

"It's 10 o'clock."

"Oh."

I'm not mad anymore -at least, not right now-, but I'm too comfy to get up and go all the way to the bedroom.

"Hmm, but I'm pretty cozy, though."

"Oh... I see." She says dejectedly.

I decide to ignore it. "Could you please get me a blanket?"

I usually don't ask menial things of her. She never asks them of me, and I feel like doing so would reinforce an old-fashioned dynamic in our relationship which I'm not fond of. Furthermore, I'm too drunk to finish this monologue. Where's my blankie?

"Sure."

She leaves for a bit, and comes back with a warm looking blanket and a glass of water.

"Here, drink this."

"Thanks." I sit up and eagerly chug the water back. Actually, I need to pee. When I get up, all the alcohol hits me full force, and I suddenly feel drunker than I've ever felt before.

At least I didn't make a mess in the bathroom. I think. I hope so.

"Hnnngh." I groan as I lean on the back of the couch.

"I made it comfortable for you." Iroha gestures to the couch, now complete with a blanket and pillow for me.

"Oh. Thangkss but I'm already up now."

"Eh?" She looks a me with innocent surprise.

I yawn and stretch, making what is probably the most unattractive yawning sound in the history of the human race.

"Sh'we go to bed?"

"But... I thought you didn't want to sleep with me." Her eyes are getting a little moist again.

"Hah? Why widjyou think that?"

"Because..."

She doesn't finish her sentence. Oh, that's right. We had a fight before because of something. Who cares? Deal with that shit in the morning.

"I think you're mis-mistunsder-standing something." I try to say, though I'm probably not fit to be making a case about anything right now.

"I'm not mad about... wwwhatevver. Okay? I was jusst... cozy, on the couchh. Okay?"

She laughs and sniffles, a beautiful smile on her reddened face. I can't help throw an arm around her. Then another. Then another. Wait, how many arms do I have?

"Hey, ssshhh. It's okaaay." I comfort her, even though at the moment I'm not even sure what she's sad about.

We just hug for a while, as I whisper sweet nothings into her ear. Eventually, she leads me to our bedroom, where I take off my jacket and pants and dive into bed. We don't do anything that night, I'm too drunk. We just hold each other until we fall asleep.

The next day, I wake up early. It's a fortunate coincidence that it's Saturday, and I don't have any work today. I really wasn't considering that when I got into a bottle of whiskey last night.

Oh yeah. The events of the day before come rushing back to me. How adamant I was to end the relationship when I was strung up, and how forgiving I was when I was drunk. How do I feel today, though? Now that my mind has settled, and I've wrapped my head around what happened, how do I feel now?

I look at the woman next to me in bed. The image of her making out with that guy flashes through my head, and I almost recoil right out of bed.

I see. So that's how I feel. I smile bitterly to myself. What a shame.

Getting out of bed quietly, I grab a set of fresh clothes and take a shower. I considered taking off and coming back for my things later, but I decide not to. It would be petty. I should properly end this today. With the thought looming over my head, I continue my morning rituals until Ir-... Isshiki, is awake and ready for a difficult conversation.

When Isshiki finally comes out, I'm out on the balcony sorting out my thoughts. This is definitely going to suck. Approaching carefully, she takes a spot leaning on the guard rail next to me.

"Good morning." She greets me quietly.

"Good morning." I parrot her because I'm not sure what else to say.

Usually in the mornings, she would be a little more upbeat and I would get swept up in her pace. On top of being fairly tense, the situation is also a little awkward.

"I've made a decision."

At that, Isshiki tenses up like I've never seen. Her grip on the rail tightens and I think I see her shaking. She doesn't respond, instead choosing to wait

I stare down at the floor. I know the next thing I'm about to say is probably going to be the most painful thing I've ever said. My cheeks begin twitching and I can already feel my eyes beginning to sting.

"I can't be with you anymore."

Her tears begin immediately.

"No..." her voice has a whining quality to it that breaks my heart even more than it already is.

"I'm sorry." My own voice is beginning to fail me too. This sucks so much.

She steps forward and falls into my chest with all of her small body.

"No, please."

Without a verbal response to give, I just shake my head at her.

"Hachiman please! You just have to give it time."

It's painful to listen to her voice.

"I've already decided." I sniffle instinctively. I'm already crying.

Yet, she still insists. "Just listen to me!" She cups my face with her hands, forcing me to look right at her flushed, crying face.

"I'll make this right, I swear. I'll get that worthless bastard fired. And if I can't, I'll quit my job. I'll make sure he's out of our lives forever!" She sniffles. "I'll do anything for you Hachiman. Please, just give me one more chance!"

She closes the distance between us, and kisses me firmly. Allowing my resolve to falter, I return the kiss. It acts as a release for all the pain I can't express in simple words or actions.

It lasts an indeterminable period of time. Seconds, or minutes. I really don't know. When it ends, she becomes a little shorter. Oh, right. She has to stand on the tips of her feet to kiss me when I'm standing.

I bring my hands up to hers, which are still on my cheeks. Savoring the warmth, I squeeze her hands gently, then release.

"Iroha..."

I savor the name on my tongue. I'm sure it's the last time I will ever call her that way.

I gently remove her hands from my face.

"I'm sorry."

"No..."

"I can never trust you again." It seems I've adopted the same whiny quality in my voice that Isshiki had earlier.

"Don't do this..."

I ignore her plea. With nothing else to say, I grab her shoulders and gently remove her weight from my chest. Stepping past her, I enter the doorway into our living room. Or, I try to. She grabs the back of my shirt as I'm trying to leave.

"Don't go."

Wordlessly, I run my hand across my shirt where she's grabbing, breaking her grip. I continue walking, with a slightly faster pace.

"Hachiman!"

The sound of footsteps lighter than my own tells me she's following me. I don't look back.

"Hachiman!" She shrieks. It actually startles me a little, but I don't break my stride.

The sound of footsteps suddenly picks up very quickly. Isshiki runs past me and throws herself on the door, just like she did yesterday. Why do you have to make this more difficult than it already is?

"Isshiki..."

"You can't go! I won't let you!"

I look at her with pity. What a pain. I sigh.

"Isshiki. You have to move."

She shakes her head subtly. "No I don't."

"Yes. You do." I counter firmly. "You have to move, and I have to go."

"No." She shakes her head again. "No, you really don't."

Urgh. This is really pathetic. Save some dignity for yourself, please.

"If you don't move, I will move you." I warn her sternly. My voice seems to have stabilized now.

"Do it. Throw me off of this door if you can. We both know you'd never hurt me." She challenges.

I sigh again. I don't have to hurt her to move her. Analyzing her posture, I try to find the most appropriate place to grab in order to move her. I don't want to yank her by the arms, that could hurt her shoulders. I decide to go for her sides. She struggles against me, and I'm sure from an observer's view we look awkward and pathetic, neither of us in full control. Before long, I lose patience with her, and use all of my limited arm strength to lift her from her spot, and put her to the side. Before she has a chance to regain her balance, I open the door and swiftly exit.

Of course, she follows suit. Raising her voice, repeating the same things she's already said multiple times already this morning. You're embarrassing the both of us right now. We have neighbors, you know.

When I reach the elevator, I have to hold an arm out to stop her from entering or jamming the door. Even though I'm not physically harming her, it kills me to have to use force to get my way.

"Hachiman, wait!"

"I'm sorry." I apologize again. Not for what I'm doing, but for the fact that I have to deny her what she wants.

"I'll do anything! Anything at all if you just stay! Please!"

"Goodbye, Isshiki." With a little force, I push her back and she stumbles a little. The elevator doors close between us. Then, I hear a heavy thud.

"HACHIMAN! DON'T GO! PLEASE!" She shrieks at the top of her lungs.

The sound of her wailing quickly fades as the elevator progresses to the ground floor.

Finally alone, I collapse to the floor. The strength that allowed me to do what I did is all but gone. I'm stuck in the quiet elevator with my thoughts.

I wish I were a bigger person. I wish that with time, I could forget that it ever happened. Unfortunately, I can't. I've always had serious trust issues, for as long as I can remember. Once bitten; twice shy, as they say. Growing up as a social outcast, the only way I was able to cope with the sadness was to convince myself I didn't need anyone else. I thought, after my highschool years, my emotional armor had all but withered away. Yet even now, all I can do is forcibly cut out anything that's too painful for me.

My cellphone rings. I don't even need to check it to know who it is. I deny the call and turn off my phone.

The elevator doors open, and the light shining from outside is a littler brighter than I expected. I rise to my feet. I check my back pocket for a familiar shape. I've got my wallet on me, good.

I wonder. Where do I go now?

There you go weewah, a Hachiman/Iroha oneshot lmfao.

Sorry. I promise to eventually counteract this with a different Hachiroha oneshot so fluffy you'll go into a sugar coma. This doesn't count. Hachiroha still rules the high seas of Oregairu.

I'm not normally a fan of writing stories about this sort of stuff. It's really heavy in a way and it only works if you can relate to one of the characters involved. Normally when someone writes stuff like this, it's just straight up projection-type angst. In real relationships, though, it's not quite as simple as 'oh she's a slut I'm dumping her stupid ass'. There are a lot more emotions involved than that, and if it were that easy to break it off then the relationship probably would have ended a lot sooner anyway.

If I feel like I need to, I might make this a two-shot. But for now, I'm satisfied with the ending.

P.S: Yes, I will update my other stories FFS. Obsession got the most votes so I'm obligated to do that because I requested votes. But now that's settled, please stop asking me to update this or that. It actually has an opposite effect on me, making me want to not do those stories. If you don't like some of my stories, I totally respect that. What I can't respect is someone saying "Don't update that story I don't like it. Do this story instead because it's what I want." I've noticed it's mostly guest reviews saying that so I'll simply start deleting them from now on.