ABIENCE || tokyo rev.

[ ✯ ONE ✯ ]

Fists loudly banged onto the metal doors, waking up all of the juveniles as the guards unlocked their cell room doors. It was around 7:30am— the morning routine just beginning. A black-haired boy groggily peeled open his eyelids, oblivious confusion plastering his tired expression. What was going on? He didn't know what was going on, nor could he find any sense of familiarity in the room around him. Using his left elbow to prop himself up, he stood up from the uncomfortable bed and began processing the scenery around him. Dozens of other boys were all scrambling up and leaving the room, presumably heading somewhere. There were a few bunk beds, all with white sheets and pillows, and the mattress was thin and flat— all of which looked and felt uncomfortable to lay on.

Holding back a gasp, he finally realized where he was. This was juvie, a place where juvenile delinquents that committed crimes were sent to. He had never been to juvie before; his whole life he ensured that he didn't get in enough severe trouble to ever land himself in a place like this. It was essential to him as a boxer to not get in trouble so that way he could compete. How did he even get here in the first place? He can't remember doing anything that led up to this; the boy's head began to spiral with confusing thoughts and possibilities, resulting in a quickly growing migraine flaring. Wincing, he tried to focus on what was happening, deciding to follow one of the boys and see where it took him.

Walking behind, the two eventually came up to a shared bathroom, rows of sinks aligned next to each other. Far off into the corner, walls of multiple showers could be seen as well. There was so much noise happening at once that it gave him a sense of panic, unsure of what to do or where to start. Why was he even here? Again, he doesn't remember how he got here. But after taking a quick glance at the guards, he decided that it would be best not to question things and to simply go with the flow. Walking up to a sink, his golden eyes widened at the sight of his reflection. Why hadn't he noticed this sooner? This was clearly not his face, nor his body.

Staring back at him through the mirror was none other than Hanemiya Kazutora, a significant antagonist in one of his favorite mangas to exist: Tokyo Revengers. Surely, this must be a dream, right? This can't be real. Observing his appearance, he took in the sight of an unhealthy-looking teenage boy with messy, black hair and yellow highlights. Pinching himself harshly, the boy held back the urge to let out a whine at the self-inflicted pain that was bestowed on him.

So this wasn't a dream.

This was reality. A reality that he has yet to process. Would he break down into panic once reality finally settled in on his shoulders? Who knows, really, but it would be smart of him to follow along with what everyone else was doing and get ready for the day. This was no time to be dwelling on his feelings, so it would be best for him to bury all of his worries and anxieties down deep. Surely he could figure this all out, right? Right.

But even with his buried feelings, it was still hard to restrain his anxieties. His body trembled, nerves eating up at him as he began brushing his teeth, finding his assigned toothbrush with relative difficulty. Unfortunately, someone took notice of this. Once he was done splashing his face with cold water, a fellow juvenile came up to him, wrapping their arm around his shoulders with a teasing grin.

"What's wrong, Kazutora? You look like you've seen a ghost." The boy commented.

'Kazutora' couldn't even recognize him, unable to put a name to his face. But it doesn't matter. "I caught a cold. If you know what's best for you, I suggest you back the fuck off before I cough saliva particles in your face."

A simple lie, but it would give a proper excuse as to why he can't stop trembling.

"Fine, fine." He said, removing his arms and stepping a couple of feet away. "You get released in a few days, right? You must be pretty excited over it."