COMPULSIVE || tokyo rev.

♡ chap_eight.

❝ 𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐈𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐈𝐍𝐓 ❞

⇢《 the world has always been fucked up. 》⇠

It was early morning, and Kazutora was lying on his bed. His eyes were closed, but he was awake. The feeling of not wanting to get up washed over him, sinking into the comforting warmth of the bed below. The soft pillow cushioned his head, the plump mattress beneath his body... and the thick, heavy blanket shielded him from the cold air. It was the sort of feeling Y/N hadn't felt since they were alive before becoming Kazutora. Kazutora wasn't graced with such comforts in juvie. Instead, he was given thinly placed mattresses that moved when you moved, a flat, unsupported pillow, and a blanket that barely protected anyone from the night's chilly breeze.

Sighing deeply, Kazutora reluctantly peeled open his eyes, wiping away the built-up gunk that etched the corners. Turning over, the boy sat up, pulling the blankets with him. Setting his elbows on his knees, Kazutora slipped his fingers through his hair, keeping his 'bangs' out of his face. He couldn't help but think about the future.

Everything felt so... suffocating. Being here felt suffocating. Existing felt suffocating. His eyes were heavy, his head throbbed with a sense of derealization, and his chest felt oddly... empty. His heart may not be twisting, but he could still feel the dread that threatened to eat him alive. Everything was so... irritating.

Blinking, Y/N snapped out of their dissociation before letting out a muffled groan. Standing up, Kazutora walked to the corner of the room, flicking the light switch. Y/N couldn't help but cover his eyes once the lights turned on, brightly shining through his eyelids. It took a few moments before they gained the courage to readjust to the lighting, but once they did, they were hardly amused, to say the least. Looking around, it was obvious that Kazutora's taste severely contrasted their own.

The blanket he used was a cheetah print. His bedroom curtains were cheetah print. And what was even worse was that there were two too many posters of women wearing bikinis. 'Tell me you were a horny preteen without telling me you were a horny preteen,' Y/N deadpanned, appearing visibly disgusted by the sight. 'I mean... like what you like, but what the fuck did his mom think about this atrocity?'

Well, this was one way to forget about their fears of the impending future. Shaking his head, Y/N looked elsewhere, taking notice of the two bookshelves that were placed on opposite ends of the room, along with the horizontal coat rack that was nailed into the wall. Walking over to the nearest bookshelf, Kazutora crouched down to take a look at the titles. Y/N quickly realized that most of them were action, thriller, and... romance mangas.

'Good taste, good taste, I'm not even going to question that one, this one's good, that one's horrible, this one is even worse, and that one's alright.' Y/N noted, slightly recalling the contents of the mangas through Kazutora's memories... along with their own. A few of these titles they could recognize from their own world, like Hunter x Hunter, for example.

'Not half bad.' Y/N thought, feeling a sense of nostalgia as he pulled out one of Hunter x Hunter's volumes, skimming through the pages. Unsurprisingly, it was the 1988 version. Breathing in and out, Kazutora then placed the manga back inside the shelf before standing up. His golden-brown eyes stared at the hardwood floor with a sense of contempt, feeling deeply burdened for merely existing. 'I'm guessing most things from my world have transferred into this one. It makes sense, kind of.'

But at least they knew now that Kazutora's memory could even recall the smaller details of life, meaning that it shouldn't be too difficult for Y/N to navigate in this world. They just need... to gain the courage, along with the much-needed motivation that they currently lack.