𝗯 𝘆 : 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗿 [[𝗻𝗮𝘁𝗰𝗵𝗼]]
𝗳 𝗶 𝗹 𝗲  𝘁 𝘆 𝗽 𝗲 : 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁, 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘁𝗼𝗻𝗶𝗰 (𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗱 𝗼𝗳)
𝘄 𝗮 𝗿 𝗻 𝗶 𝗻 𝗴 : 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗼𝗿𝗮 𝗶𝗻 𝗷𝘂𝘃𝗶𝗲, 𝗯𝗮𝗷𝗶'𝘀 𝗱𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗵

When he'd gotten himself into juvie the first time, he'd told you to wait for him.
He didn't feel regret for what he did.

After all, it was all Mikey's fault, wasn't it?

You knew Mikey despised him and you knew all the founders of Toman, who'd you grown close to, told you to stay far away from him. Yet you still waited.
You visited him every day after school, rain or shine. You said funny things to cheer him up, and you smiled to him, pressing your face to the glass barrier between the two of you so you could see the details of his face. Sometimes, he wishes he could stay in there longer, just so he could have these moments with you undisturbed by the Toman members, feeling your warmth through that thick glass.

When he got out, the first thing he did was go to your house to visit you. You looked happy to see him, smiling a bright smile with your arms open wide to hug him. He dived into your embrace, snuggling his face into the crook of your neck and telling you how much he missed being able to feel you like this.

He didn't notice how you tensed up a little when he put his arms around you, or how relieved you were when he finally let go.

"(y/n)...please wait for me..."

That was what he said after Toman fought against Valhalla, his face badly bruised and blood on his clothes and his hair. You couldn't bring yourself to look at him, clutching the body of your friend Baji Keisuke for the last time before Draken and Mitsuya pulled you away. Your hands and the sleeves of your Toman jacket were stained with an ugly crimson, and fat tears rolled down your face. You didn't look back at the man whom you called your friend as you ran with the rest of the gang, and Kazutora looked to the direction you went wistfully as tears and blood clouded his vision.

As the police handcuffed him and escorted him to the car, he glanced at Baji's body on a stretcher being taken into an ambulance, and at the footprints you left on the ground. He knew he shouldn't expect it, but how he wished to see your face, just yours, through that glass again.

A suffocating silence filled the familiar room. A man sat on a chair, with his wrists cuffed, and wearing a prison uniform. A woman stood at the other side of the room, near the door as she clutched her bag tightly. Between them was a long table stretching to both horizontal sides of the room, an empty chair and a big piece of glass.

Kazutora sees how you've changed since he had last been here. You walked slowly towards him and sat hesitantly on the chair, holding on to your bag like you were prepared to run out of the room anytime. You spoke in a monotone and kept your head down, asking him how he was and whatnot. You were rigid on that chair, and he sees how uncomfortable you were sitting in the same room as your friend's murderer.

Kazutora's cuffed hands reach up to the glass and pressed against it, causing you to look up a little. Tears streamed down his face as he thanked you for seeing him in this wretched place he had grown to hate. His hands stayed on the glass the whole time, but you didn't put your hands there too like he wished you would. You nodded awlwardly and shifted a little, and he hopes what he saw wasn't the chair and you moving an inch further from the glass.

It hurt him so much to not be able to see your whole face again, or to feel the slightest warmth of your palms through that glass. He starts to think he deserves it, and he wonders why he had asked you to wait for him then. He said nothing as he stared hard at you, as if that would make you look at the monster behind the barrier. He used to love the solitary times with you in this place, but now he despises it with all his heart.

Because it now feels like the glass between you was protecting you from him, making sure he couldn't go any closer to you.