dear rin | h. rindou sequel

01

cw: drug & suicide mentions & alcohol.

the wind was especially strong today. of course it had to be today.

there was everything wrong with where you were— where you were headed to. who you were, why you were here and what you were feeling.

nothing would be right anymore, why?

because you found yourself back in japan. the country you hated most.

only a year— that's how long your short lived happiness lasted for before it was ripped away from you.

just when you thought; "oh! maybe this time, my happiness will last." you were painfully wrong. you were naive for thinking that, but it was nice while it lasted.

it was a nice thought.

the wind seemed to just be as cranky as you— because it was pushing you back. it blew against your body so strongly you almost toppled over and fell.

it felt cold against your ears and nose, despite it only being august.

that's right, it had been almost exactly a year since you've left.

new york passed by in no time, with all the adjusting, the moving in— making friends, helping your uncle work, it made time fly by so fast.

too fast even.

one year had ticked by faster than a minute.

it was just when you were starting to get comfortable, just when you made friends your age.

just when you thought you could fit in, but wrong. absolutely fucking wrong.

see the thing about your journey was, that once you left japan and moved to america, (a country that was quite literally the opposite of japan), you changed. a lot. you changed your style, the way you thought— all from the influence.

you were never a leader, always a follower. it was easier to influence you than to write a single alphabet.

but even though you changed, adjusted— you realized you could never fit in. not in america. maybe you left too early but it was an extremely hard place to adjust to.

seeing japanese students religiously wear school uniforms to seeing americans wear their pajamas to school was extremely mind blowing.

in america, you sometimes thought to yourself that you'd fit in better in japan, like you always did despite the loneliness you felt.

but god how terribly wrong you were.

with a street crowded with people despite the wind, with the buses and cars zooming past you— you still felt alone. so fucking alone.

so alone it sent chills down your spine.

the way they dressed, the way you couldn't see a single person just vape or swear in the streets made you realize just how different america was from japan.

now you really didn't fit in anywhere. not in japan, not in america, not anywhere.

but it didn't matter to you right now, you were used to it anyways. if it bothered you at the moment, you wouldn't be opening the door to the bar izumi ran.