[ it feels like a chilly autumn night in this simulation room at the moment, dark save for a food stand in the middle of the room with warm lights and red curtains. the music is relaxing and a little melancholy, and the food looks and smells delicious — the kind of comfort food that just feels like home.
except for him. he's at the end of the bench with a half-full can of beer, arms crossed on the bar in front of him and resting his head on them. there are still cuts on all of the skin you can see, though they aren't bleeding anymore, and his hair is messed up a little in front. there's a set of crutches leaning on the bench beside him.
hearing someone else walk in, he raises his head and looks over tiredly. ]
w1, thursday
and seated at the bench are todomatsu and five other young men who look exactly like him, each wearing the exact same hoodie in a different color. they're all in various states of drunkenness, most passed out or close to it.
except for him. he's at the end of the bench with a half-full can of beer, arms crossed on the bar in front of him and resting his head on them. there are still cuts on all of the skin you can see, though they aren't bleeding anymore, and his hair is messed up a little in front. there's a set of crutches leaning on the bench beside him.
hearing someone else walk in, he raises his head and looks over tiredly. ]