[ Akira wraps his arms around Akechi, like his display of affection can somehow -- maybe -- chase away the remnants of the uncertainty, drag them both back down. Akira doesn't want to wake up. He doesn't want any of them to wake up, and he doesn't think he's ever hated himself quite so much.
He could handle the fact that no one else seems to need him if it meant that Akechi -- if it meant that Akechi did -- ]
I'm sorry. [ He can hear them talking downstairs -- Futaba chirping like nothing is wrong; Morgana's strangely deep voice contrasting against it. ]
It's okay. We're just -- tired, or something.
[ It's a hollow reassurance and Akira knows it, but he doesn't have Maruki's powers; he can't drag across this world to make it seem real, to erase the doubt. All he has is himself. ]
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He could handle the fact that no one else seems to need him if it meant that Akechi -- if it meant that Akechi did -- ]
I'm sorry. [ He can hear them talking downstairs -- Futaba chirping like nothing is wrong; Morgana's strangely deep voice contrasting against it. ]
It's okay. We're just -- tired, or something.
[ It's a hollow reassurance and Akira knows it, but he doesn't have Maruki's powers; he can't drag across this world to make it seem real, to erase the doubt. All he has is himself. ]