(malereader insert [M/N] [L/N] Tokyo revengers + oc insert)
Living with the same routine everyday like a broken record for what felt like forever, you can't help but wish something would change; anything would do. So when it did came...
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January 16, 2001 Monday
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✦༝ ┉┉┉┉┉ ⋆ (Third Person Point of View)⋆ ┉┉┉┉┉ ༝✦
RIGHT AFTER [M/N] step out of the classroom door, his feet trudged aimlessly without a clear destination in mind. After a promise he impulsively made, [M/N] left the white haired boy half laying on the wooden table wounded and befuddled. The boy didn't stop him from leaving, nor did he say anything about [M/N]'s bold statement.
Upon passing by a group of the reform school's detainees, his body moved on its own. With arms as heavy as boulders and aching knuckles, he smite the closest person to him. As expected the group fought back, but [M/N] didn't let their number deter him, instead he vented out all his anger with every punch he made.
Erasing every sneer that were sent in his way—but in his perspective, those sneers morph into amused and provoking smiles of the boy he met earlier. Even their faces seem to fluctuate between the albino's and theirs, enraging and aggravating [M/N] even more.
It was the first time he lost since the day his name became well-known. But that wasn't the reason behind his anger. No, in fact he's mad at himself. If only he was a little faster, a little stronger, and a little better, then maybe he wouldn't lose the one of the very few gifts he left for him. However, he wasn't.
Soon enough, the commotion caught the attention of other offenders, they tried to separate [M/N] from the group, but was for naught when all it created was a even bigger mess. Punches, kicks, and insults were thrown around carelessly. For what seems like forever, the authorities finally intervene. The furious guards march towards them, dress shoes harshly slapping the wooden floors, plastic black batons in hand. They sent the boys to their rooms with very little difficultly, except for [M/N] who was pointed out to be the culprit.
He was sent to the guidance office where a disappointed face greeted him upon entering. All words the counselor spoke went from one ear to another. Dull [E/C] eyes staring blankly at the only thing left for him to remember of his best friend. Red string snugging tightly around his wrist—hindering his blood circulation, and silver sphere winking at him everytime he angled it into the right direction. Perhaps the suffocating bracelet is trying to comfort him for his lost, but all effort left an even more regret in [M/N]'s heart. Shame filled him when all the things he cared for were dying one after the other.
After a while, the counselor finally let him go. And instead of going to the nurses office like the man told him too, [M/N] unwisely chose not to. Don't get him wrong he like the nurse, but there's a possibility of that Madarame boy spending the night there, possibly still unconscious because of him. And there's no way in hell is [M/N] getting anywhere near that boy anytime soon.
