Juvenile Detention Center |Fyozai|

Cell Mates

Fyodor Dostoevsky, thirteen year old boy, was sent to the Juvenile detention center. The reason for he was sent there was due to an argument with his parents over him refusing to marry a woman once he was of age to marry and carry on the family name. His mother hit herself and called the police to charge Fyodor of assault.

He did not care for it, there was no reason to care.

Fyodor was allowed to take a few items with him as long as they passed the rules. The two main rules were to not have metal, or anything that could inflict damage onto yourself or another person.

He took three large chapter books, a notebook without a spiral, his white ushanka, and strawberry flavored lip balm. The police did not like him taking the ushanka but there was no rule he could not have it as it wasnt really a hat.

Dostoevsky was heading to the cell that he would be forced to share with another. In the cell, there was no one else in there. 'He must be off at supper right now. As that is where im meant to be, but this place definitely has horrid food and i will not risk a disease from it on my first day here. That would be awfully embarrassing.'

Fyodor placed a small box with all of the things he was allowed to take onto the bottom bunk of the bunk bed. The top bunk had items on it already so he would not be getting that one, which did not bother him at all since he liked the bottom bunk better.

He sat down on what would have to be his bed for the next two years and seven months, unless they changed his cell room which was unlikely. The black haired boy took out his lip balm and aplied it to his bottom lip then rubbed both of his lips together.

He placed the lip balm back into the box then taking out one of his books. The book was sat down beside him as he also took his ushanka out, putting it on and picking the box up and slid it under the bed.

The boy pulled his knees closer towards him. He grabbed his book which read 'One For Sorrow'. The book was written by Mary Downing Hahn and it had been his favorite for years upon years.

Once the boy started reading he began from where he last left off.

Dostoevsky had been reading for at least twenty minutes when the cell door opened causing Fyodor to look up from his book. A police officer and a brunette haired boy with very beautiful hazel eyes stood in the door way. The boy was shoved into the cell as Fyodor kept his eyes on him.

His attention was drawn back to the officer called to him. "Hey you. Make sure you put that book up in thirty minutes or before, after that go to sleep when it's lights out. Understood boy?" A nod. "Yes sir."

"Good, now you." He pointed to the brunette boy who seemed unintrested in anything the officer had to say. "You get yourself under control and get to bed. If i hear any more rucas from you tonight you know what your punishment is going to be." "Yeah, yeah, whatever." The officer scowled at the boy and slammed the cell door shut.

Fyodor put his attention back to his book after the door was shut for there was nothing more to pay attention to.

The brunette groaned and climbed up the latter to the top bunk, he let his body fall onto the bed. Making both his and the other boys beds shake. But its not like he cared. Plus, the other boy did not seem to care at all either, so was it really an issue?

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It had not even been ten minutes when the brunette got bored and decided he would 'try' to get to know the other boy, he now had to share his cell with.

He crawled off of the top bunk by the latter. He then walked over to the bottom bunk and sat down on the edge of it close to the other boy.

"May i help you?" The black haired boy asked with a think russian accent whilst he closed his book.

The other grinned widly. "Yes! I would like to get to know you, my new cell mate!" The amethyst eyed boy hummed. "I see." He placed his book beside him and sat up on his knees with his feet under himself. "Well, my name is Fyodor Dostoevsky. I am from Russia but moved to Japan three years ago, and i am at thirteen years of age."

"Well, Fyodor, I am Dazai Osamu! I have lived in japan for all of my life, and i as well am thirteen."

Fyodor hummed in aknoalagement of the other. "So, what do you like to do?" Dazai asked while placing his hands on his knees.

Fyodor decided to say whatever came to mind. He was tired and wished to continue this conversation another time, but would just go ahead and finish it now.

"My hobbies are playing the cello, chess, and reading. I also find joy to occasionally bake." Dazai beemed as he heard this.

"I also like baking! Chess is a hobby of mine too, but i perfer to skate and sing rather than play an instrument or read." Fyodor smiled a bit. "Maybe when we get out of here we can bake something together and perhaps play a few games of chess?" Dostoevsky asked the other. "I agree that, maybe, we should, if we meet outside of this place." Fyodor nodded.

"Well, Dazai, i believe it is time for us to go to sleep. If you would like we can continue this conversation tomorrow morning or afternoon?" "Yes i'd like that." Dazai smiled, got onto the top bunk. They both said their goodnights before going to bed. Though it did take Fyodor a bit longer to fall into a slumber due to the uncomfortable bed.

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