[And impressively, then, between the two of them they rest. Akechi may even say he hasn't had sleep that good in years, but of course, it's short-lived. He wakes up slowly with sunlight filtering in through the window, warm and comfortable and tangled in a boy he can't figure out what to think of, and his brain stays about a day in the past. He gets up carefully, extracting himself from Akira's limbs and pulling the blanket back up over him as he pads out of his room.]
[It starts to dawn on his half-conscious mind when he's disoriented by the layout of the condo, and when he gets into the living room and sees the drab state of it all, the dust and the lack of pictures, he physically feels his heart sinking into the pit of his stomach. The gash on his palm throbs and he turns his wrist outward to look at it, pressing his thumb into the gauze until it bleeds again. He sucks in a sharp breath and lets it hitch, withering his way down to sit on his uncomfortable couch and curling around a stiff pillow that doesn't match.]
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[It starts to dawn on his half-conscious mind when he's disoriented by the layout of the condo, and when he gets into the living room and sees the drab state of it all, the dust and the lack of pictures, he physically feels his heart sinking into the pit of his stomach. The gash on his palm throbs and he turns his wrist outward to look at it, pressing his thumb into the gauze until it bleeds again. He sucks in a sharp breath and lets it hitch, withering his way down to sit on his uncomfortable couch and curling around a stiff pillow that doesn't match.]