#code violet art

Akira’s days in juvie slowly pass by. He scrapes by unnoticed by those around him. For once, he hangs his head low and does his best to move through life without causing any incidents. He can't afford to act out when his friends are counting on his innocence to get him out.

There's still plenty to rebel against, of course. Akira's just as aware of the injustice around him as ever. The kid bullied into giving up his meals while the guards look the other way. The young, fragile-looking boy who's obviously going through withdrawals and getting none of the care he needs. The guards who shout at and manhandle inmates when they so much as slow down the food line.

He should speak up. He wants to defend the outcasts and call out the abusers, like he's done before so many times. But without the Metaverse and his friends, Akira is utterly powerless against the forces holding him down. He'd only cause more trouble for himself and anyone associated with him, and make his own release that much more unlikely.

Akira's spent a year fighting injustice wherever it cropped up and looking down on those who turned a blind eye and let the corruption of society fester. And now, put in the place that corruption runs most rampant, he does nothing. Says nothing. Becomes the quiet, meek pushover society wanted him to be when this whole thing got started.

Because more than anything else, Akira's tired. He's so tired. He doesn't want to be the one who causes trouble. Because that's what will happen—he’ll stick his nose where it doesn't belong, and then the fist will come crashing down to force him back into his place. He's sick of it.