Klhoine

The language of flowers never held importance to Akira until the fateful day he entered that little flower shop in Ikebukuro. Though that wasn't the only thing that came from there, it's where he met -- her. "Come on Akira, wake up, it's your first day at your new job." Akira's mother spoke from behind his closed door. Akira wasn't even sleeping; he was curled up in a rainbow and zebra printed blanket in his computer chair. The room around him was a disaster, his desk in the corner of the room. Scattered around the keyboard were empty bags of honey chips, three –day -old ramen cups with the chopsticks still left on his desk like a child's Lego set. Strewn around the basic wooden floor were mismatched socks and dark-colored clothes he hadn't bothered to put in the laundry basket that was forgotten like a dusty record player. His walls were covered in posters that showed animated features with bright colors and characters. The messy bed didn't look slept in. Akira stirred in his cocoon