tokyo revengers one-shots & headcannons

"freaks" (sano manjiro)

word count: 450

dear y/n,

you must be surprised to be getting this. i mean, a letter was never my style. you were the one to leave love letters, though they were always so cheesy. quite the poet, you were.

twelve years, huh? can't believe it's been that long already...

i wonder if you've changed much from the person who used to hold onto my arm with a death grip when a spider walked in front of us. you'd make me kill it and then look at me like i was invincible.

'the invincible mikey'...that's what they used to call me. back when it was a good thing. nowadays i don't hear much of anything.

you wouldn't like who i've become. or what i've done. i'm not the same mikey you once knew. i'm a killer. a criminal. all the people i've killed, all the ones i've watched die in front of me...they don't mean anything to me. i don't feel anything.

i am just a freak.

i've been around these batshit crazy guys for too long. i don't recognize myself. the truth is...i don't want to be a killer anymore. my big bro, emma, and baji...i just keep thinking they'd be disappointed in me. they'd hate who i am.

everything bad in the past, it was all my fault. everything. it all went to shit because of me, every single time. i promised takemitchy i'd protect all of you this time. leaving you all twelve years ago, it was the only way. i miss you like hell, but as long as you're happy now, i don't regret it.

i loved you, i hope you know that. even if i didn't say it all that much...i did. fuck, i still do.

my head is...filled with parasites. black holes cover up my eyes.

i dream of you almost every night.

hopefully i won't wake up this time.

— mikey

mikey rereads the letter; the more he reads it, the more it looks like chicken scratch. what would you even think? the man who walked out on you twelve years ago suddenly reaching out via mail. hell, you'd probably throw it away.

mikey sighs, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back. his hair blows away from his face, carried by the midnight breeze. tokyo never felt so cold. sitting on the water tank, mikey was truly alone. emptiness carried like an oversized shadow, with no one able to fill it quite like you could. he knows he's pathetic. just as you had all those years ago, the paper slips through mikey's loose grasp. it's as if the universe had made the decision for him; to keep from bothering you with his pesky emotions. a secret to remain undiscovered.

and so it shall be, gone with the wind.