(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 17, 2001 Tuesday
無
謀
✦༝ ┉┉┉┉┉ ⋆ (Third Person Point of View)⋆ ┉┉┉┉┉ ༝✦
IT'S RAINING. Fine drops drizzle over the land of Japan and it's people. Under a plastic canopy roof, [M/N] gaze at the gloomy clouds that blocked the magnificent sight of the burning sun with unreadable expression. If he didn't know better, [M/N] would say the clouds were crying for him, mourning for his dying heart since he no longer can bring himself to. White plaster tapes and bandages cling to him like a second skin, hiding his imperfections and scars from prying eyes.
Right before the sun rose, a guard came knocking on the door of his shared room with Mucho. Fortunately the soft rattling didn't wake up his roommate, because if it did, he'll certainty question his injuries he gained the night before.
And [M/N] didn't have the energy to talk to anyone with his mind bustling with vast thoughts that even himself couldn't make out, filled with things about the nightmare that kept him awake all night. So, he quietly got up from his bed that seems to be made out of bricks, and sneak towards the wooden door like a burglar stealing from a war veteran.
He was immediately assisted to the nurses office and left him with the nurse to cure his injuries. Since the day [M/N] arrived, with the wounds he sustained during new year and the injuries he acquire every now and then for the past couple of days—it's safe to say he became well acquainted with the nurse.
Luckily—or as lucky as it gets—nothing was broken, apart from his nose. Which the nurse scold him for breaking it for the third time in just the span of two weeks. Twisted ankle, bruised ribs, several scratches, scrapes, and unsurprisingly a dislocated shoulder; everything was patched and pampered with great care. However no-one can ever mend to his broken heart.
[M/N] reached his hand outwards, while he remain dry under the plastic canopy roof by the back of the school, he let his dominant arm feel the rain on his calloused fingers, dousing the thin bandages just to touch his bruised skin. Trying to wash away the invisible blood that cling to his skin like glue. Biting the soft and thin layer of tissue, until they became a permanent tattoo on his skin.
The rain is cold, but gentle and welcoming.
Freezing wind pass by him with a light gust, circling around his body—embracing him like how someone would when comforting a child who felt torn and confused. Different from the cold breeze that welcomed him in his nightmare. The scent of pouring rain coax [M/N] to have a peace of mind—to forget. Forget his troubles. Forget his disoriented thoughts. Forget him. Just... Forget everything and everyone.
