The walls were white, untainted, the lights bright enough for it to hurt.

All rooms, as safe, as sterile as could be. The communal living room was the only room, with an ounce of life in it.

There were barely any sounds, the television playing as a few quiet voices could be heard, deciding to share their stay with others.

Not Korekiyo's, of course. Having been dragged, physically, to the room after a particular outburst, he sat, the velvet chair creaking under his weight as he read a book.