Night Bird Flying: ChainsawMan X Reader (School Arc, slow updates, sorry.)

I hate it here.

Januay 10th, 1997

As Yoruna navigates the streets of a drenched Tokyo enveloped in a mixture slush of rain and snow, holding an envelope with money inside. It's Winter. As the droplets of water fell Yoruna shuddered. "That makes thirteen shifts this break." Yoruna said with a weak shaking voice, the numbing feeling of the rain being blocked from his mind, something that Yoruna hated. The damp feeling of the rain falling into his hair sliding down each individual lock onto the ground. The clouds it brought blocked the moon, something he loved to look up at as for him it was all that was left. It was for a second reason. His distain wasn't one of physical discomfort, the opposite really, the feeling of it matched his emotions, cold, damp, unwelcomed. Instead, it was the memories.

Memories of a Younger Yoruna who came back from his favorite penny arcade, laughing to himself while seeking refuge from the rain with a single scrap of cardboard his wet hair tied in a loose bun the cheap rubber band not able to hold together his hair. Yoruna felt happy, content. As he opened his home's door, he looked on to the both of his parents necks adorned with a mess of rope as their faces were a collage of brain matter, their eyes dangling by their nerves bisected by a form littered with feathers, claws dripping with their sanguine fluid as it leaks onto it's formal attire, licking it in a mocking way stretching it's hands out as if it was preparing to bow after performance. Yoruna's hair band snapping, as nearly physical representation of his mind, his hair falling Infront his face as he looks on in horror. Hoping, Wishing the individual locks shielded him from his reality, 

"Just a dream, right? Right! Right."

In a haughty voice it speaks "I was told to not converse with the likes of you", It spat, "So I'll do the next best thing."

Running a singular blood-soaked claw through the walls of his home soon spreading wings bursting through the small home, fleeing the scene laughing all the while.

As Yoruna stares at the bodies of his parents, their organs loosely dangling from their torso, the smell of feces, stomach acid, and blood filled the small, constructed shack. As the rain. The rain pouring into the small shelter dripping from the hair and fingers of his parents. As he reaches towards both, he sees the scratches made by the humanoid figure.

SIX YEARS LEFT TO LIVE, YORUNA!

The hastily scratched message dripped with blood with a mixture of water. In the middle of it all a small Raven with three legs and two pairs of wings and eyes. As it wheezes Yoruna falls to his knees hesitantly, he reaches out for the small black bird as it directs its attention towards him its unreadable black pupils dilating seeing Yoruna reach out to it. Instead of the boy bringing harm to it he holds it close to himself, feeling as it does. Alone. Hurt. Confused.

Yoruna left the house with small bag of belongings and a poorly constructed bed for the small Raven as he shelters it from the rain ending with him roaming the streets and back allies of Tokyo. For half a year that raven was Yoruna's only companion, his closest confidant, and family. Quickly Yoruna was found and taken by law enforcement forced to abandon the raven, as a safety measure to make sure it isn't harmed, and brought into a child's home where he went from family to family, always escaping eventually emancipating himself finding a job to pay his bills. Yoruna shuddered thinking of his early life. Clutching his coat closer to himself.

"I hate it, all of it."

As Yoruna turned the corner he had finally arrived at his favorite place in the world. A simple video store with TVs playing an assortment of different channels the sound silent, the TVs had subtitles, but Yoruna couldn't read very well, he had only gone to school for a few months before his parents died before forcefully kicked out due to him not being able to pay any kind of tuition, but Yoruna didn't need to read anything nor hear any kind of voices. He had grown attached to this little shop coming from his way from work to watch an assortment of different shows that played on the screen. Again, he couldn't read so he didn't know any of the characters only identifying them with their physical characteristics like Samurai dude, and Little Detective.