𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬 𝐨𝐧 𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐦 ₓ˚. ୭ ᵗᵒᵏʸᵒ ʳᵉᵛᵉⁿᵍᵉʳˢ

𝟷𝟾 𝙽𝚘𝚟𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 | 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚜𝚞𝚋𝚜𝚝𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎 𝚘𝚏 𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚘𝚜

"Just shut the hell up Pah, keep stuffing your face," another man called, and I recognising him as the fifth division captain, Muto Yasuhiro, "the only one missing is Mitsuya."

"Look around jackass," Pah calls, scowl deepening, "there's others who are missing as well. And where the hell is my fried rice, I can't continue without my rice!"

"Shut it, fried rice comes last, you bald headed idiot," a smiling man chastised, the eerie look he gave Pah instantly reminding me of the fourth division captain. 

"You motherfucker!" A man screams, slamming down his fist onto the table, rattling the plates and cutlery, "we all know Pah's head is made of air you ass hole," Peh continues, glaring down Nahoya.

The sentiments between them, although that being them arguing, made a small smile grow at knowing that not all things changed with time. Even after 12 years, most were still here in Toman. 

"Can't you just shut the hell up," an unfamiliar voice called, his teeth ripping into a piece of fried chicken, "fucking old timers."

His hair was cut into a buzz, navy blue hair growing out.

"The fuck you just say?" Nahoya directs his irritation onto the man who just spoke up, Peh following his actions as well. 

"Shut up," another groaned, pale blue eyes hardening onto Pah, his large scar tugging at his eyebrows creasing, "who the hell do you think is the one putting food onto your tables? You old timers don't contribute to our treasury, you just lie around, just 'cause you've been here for the longest."

A man beside the blonde chuckled, leaning his elbow on his back rest, "woah Inupi, you're way too honest."

Taking a better look, the other unfamiliar guy had a striking mohawk, white streaks combing through his black hair. 

"Keep talking like their shit, fucking ex Black Dragons."

I crane my head back, looking up to Chifuyu who continued to mutter angry curses under his breath. The name mention felt like a distant memory, yet was unknown at the same time. 

"Hey, where the hell is Mikey anyways?" Pah loudly questions the table, before shoving another large spoon full of soup into his mouth. 

The navy blue hair male rolled his eyes, "like he'd want to spend time with your ass," he quips, deadpanning, "Mikey... Mikey... Mikey... all you old timers do is wine about him when something goes wrong, clingy little bitches."

The comment visibly enraged Pah, who stood up and violently slammed his chair in the opposing wall. 

His action made me lurch back, while the others seated didn't even seem to flinch. 

"What a pain," a male droned, voice exasperated and unbothered, "you think you guys are in the playground?"