(no subject)
Katou was, to say the least, bored as fuck. He practiced his guitar in his spare time, and had now not only become as good as he had been back home, even with the fake arm, but had also become better, in his own humble opinion. He had learned how to fly quite well, and doubted he'd ever really need to learn to improve any more (Hell, flying was a skill he hadn't needed at all during the war). The rides had gotten stale already. Part of him wondered if he would have been this bored before the war. As nice as it had been to just relax after fighting so hard, that had gotten old as well.
And so, he found his mind wandering back to the way it had been before he had died. He had been sure he'd stay sober (with the exception of being drunk once in a while), especially since he had to protect Setsuna. But there wasn't much to protect Setsuna from here. Besides, his body wasn't even a human one. He doubted he'd ever become a junkie again, because he didn't think this body could become addicted.
So, after thoroughly justifying it to himself, he found himself outside of the First Aid station, ready to break in and steal something that would fuck him up. It was a First Aid station. Of course it had something.
And so, he found his mind wandering back to the way it had been before he had died. He had been sure he'd stay sober (with the exception of being drunk once in a while), especially since he had to protect Setsuna. But there wasn't much to protect Setsuna from here. Besides, his body wasn't even a human one. He doubted he'd ever become a junkie again, because he didn't think this body could become addicted.
So, after thoroughly justifying it to himself, he found himself outside of the First Aid station, ready to break in and steal something that would fuck him up. It was a First Aid station. Of course it had something.