It's Chuuya Nakahara's eighteenth birthday and his tenth anniversary of confinement. Luckily it's the same day, so you don't forget anyone, sometimes your mind plays bad tricks on you.

He has nothing with him but a simple white suit that covers him from neck to toe, even his hands are trapped in the fabric, suffocating his fingers. He hasn't touched anything besides the soft fabric and things inside his prison, he doesn't remember the feel of anything outside