𝐏𝐀𝐒𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐆𝐑𝐄𝐓𝐒 † tokrev

✧𝐈𝐕

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"I didn't expect you to be the classical music type. You've got quite a lot in your collection," Draken commented, while enjoying his meal at the couch table sitting with everyone on zabutons.

"Yeah, the only singer I know from there is Mozart," Mikey added in ignorant incorrectness, making his friend nearly choke on his noodles at his unavailable knowledge.

Washi only mustered up a closed-eye smile at him and bluntly informed him, "He's a composer, not a singer. Classical music has rarely any singers and when then in form of opera. Maybe you should attend your class for once and stay awake, Mikey."

The tattooed teenager could only agree to that, but was shot down by the adult, saying how he wasn't any better as he was the one to skip classes with Mikey together. He couldn't really contradict that, so he continued eating with slumped shoulders and nervously avoided eye contact with the brunet.

The adult chuckled at their defeated forms in delight and tried to change the topic to their beloved gang, bringing their lively behaviour back. The two told him how much Toman had changed in the two years and a little bit about some new members. The heterochromia-eyed man paid attention to every word leaving their mouths and every time the conversation was slowly turning towards him, he discretely directed it away, avoiding any topic or questions about him. He wouldn't have much to tell anyways.

Somehow, they ended up with the founding members, who Washi could barely remember from tales Mikey always babbled on about for hours.

"How is Hanemiya doing?"

That was the second time the ambience broke down into smithereens of uneasiness, but this time the responsible one was someone else. Though parallels were shown between the two causers, both exactly knowing the consequences of their actions and still doing it without hesitation.

The only inculpable one in the room could not fathom the reasons for their questions, when knowing the opposite bore ambivalent feelings about it. The mind of each was an unsolvable puzzle for him as they hid their emotions and thoughts behind their dull eyes and soft smiles like the mystery they intended or were maybe even born to be. Sometimes he wondered if they resided in a completely different world than him, where burying one's worries and intentions deep inside oneself, never exposing it to sunlight was a normal way of coping with oneself. They seemed very alike to his eyes, but his assumption could be completely off—he wouldn't be able to tell. Well, how could he if he was another colourful person in their black and white reality.

A heavy sigh of disappointment left Washi's lips as he stood up and started to clean up the table, bringing the dishes to the kitchen. Having expected the silent tension, he hinted in a steady voice, "You should forgive him, before it's too late. It wasn't entirely his fault that things turned out this way."

"How can you say this so calmly as if it doesn't affect you?!" Mikey retorted angrily, standing up with slamming his hands on the table in fury, while Draken aimlessly tried his best to diffuse the fight but was unsuccessful as it got worse.

"Is Shinichirou not that important to you for letting his murderer off the hook so easily?!" he continued to shout with shrinking pupils filled with the desire for revenge, but his accusation was a very dangerous landmine, lethal to anyone who even dared to question Washi's feelings and loyalty. It didn't matter who the victim might be, no one was save under Kakokui Mesuke's wrath.

The teenagers realized Mikey's grave mistake the moment the blamed person turned around with the most intimidating stare they had ever seen so far. The orange touch in the dirty yellow was gleaming in a dangerous glint like fire, but the eyes remained frightfully dim, causing a very cold shiver running down their spines and make them sweat as if the room was hell itself. They felt like a small prey in the haunting eyes of an eagle, who was ready to gouge their eyes out and brutally rip their skin off with its frightening large claws. They shook in their boots in the presence of their brother figure—how pitiable.