The touch of a hand to his shoulder and he stood. Even before he had formed the very idea of standing up from the bench.<br/><em>Damn it. Gotta be more careful.</em><br/>But suppressing lifelong trained moves that had become nearly reflexes was an impossibility. Sunny just had to mask them somehow.<br/>Running his hand through his soaked, black hair, he eyed up the guard that had retracted his hand as if Sunny's shoulder had burned him.<br/>He knew his eyes were just as cold as he felt when the guard backed up, nodded at him and jerked with his head, indicating him to follow.<br/>Yeah, why not.. Not like he wanted to remain seated on this bench.<br/><br/>Casting glances around he followed the guard to a cell. Seemed he had to share it with someone. Two bunks. One above. One below.<br/>He smirked low and put the junk the prison had provided away and raised his eyes to the top bunk again.<br/>One elegant and agile swing and he was on it, leaning back lazily against the wall, arms folded behind his head as he closed his eyes and allowed his mind to wander.<br/>It would take time to get used to the sounds of the prison, but he'd manage, he was sure. Reminded him of Peking..