stealhearted | after me comes the flood;

[The question throws him, and it echoes strangely in his head. The room abruptly becomes too warm and then too cold in a dizzying swell that happens to fast for him to bite back the flinch, and a full-body tremor runs up his spine. Exhaling in a rush, he sits nearly in Akira's lap, slotted to him with his arms finding their way loosely wound around his waist.]

I'm-- stressed, at best, school is a nightmare and you're obviously not doing well. I wouldn't say I'm happy, but I'm certainly not miserable. Not until the actual entrance exams start, certainly.

[ ... it helps, actually, to hear that even here, in this "perfect" world, Akira isn't the only one unhappy. Akechi has everything he could have wanted, and this world still falls short; it takes some tension out of Akira's shoulders, takes some weight off of his back. Emotionally, he's still an absolute mess, guilt and desperation and an overwhelming desire to have things he can't warring inside of him, but...

Maybe it doesn't matter how good things are. Maybe they'll always have to struggle for happiness.

Maybe Akira really can be what makes Akechi -- ]

I'm not very good at... wanting things. [ Akira says it slowly, and it feels almost like it isn't immediately related to the conversation -- but it is. ]

And it feels like when I do, it doesn't -- it only hurts people, or gets me into trouble.

I've noticed, [He says it with a slight smile-- there's deep-rooted concern, there, but he's trying to keep the tone light.] You spend so much time being what you think everyone around you wants you to be, when really we just want you to be you.

[He doesn't mind the shift in topic, figuring Akira is wandering away from what is stressing him out the most. He'll come back to it, Akechi will, but he doesn't want to force him, either.]

I don't know who I am. [ This is not a conversation he should be having with an Akechi who doesn't remember having an entire breakdown in the belly of a cognitive cruise ship -- but he wouldn't have the guts to have it with that Akechi, so this'll have to do. ]

I've just always been whatever people need, but -- no one needs anything from me anymore. [ And then, hesitantly: ] Except you.

[Good thing he'll remember it, then, huh.]

[Some of the life goes out of his eyes for a moment at the first statement-- that Akira doesn't know who he is. It's sort of like the motor behind them stalls out and he spaces out, just like he has a few other times when things have rattled his head just hard enough. It feels, oddly, like something in his head is ramming against the outer walls of his skull, but it isn't quite painful.]

[Or it wasn't, until Akira mentions he needs him, and then there's a sudden battering ram force that slams into the space between his eyes and he flinches, staggering half a step forward into Akira.] ...don't, don't say things like that. Of course we need you, you're our friend. [He puts his head against his shoulder, closing his eyes in hopes that will make the sudden focused migraine abate.]

[ Akira reaches up to thread his fingers into Akechi's hair, to massage gently at his temples. It wasn't painful for Akira to "wake up" because he'd never fallen victim for the dream in the first place, but he imagines it can't be comfortable, either. He's playing with fire, here, and he relents slightly, feeling too sympathetic to want to keep pushing. ]

I think I'm the one that needs all of you. [ But it's soft; it's fond. Akira can say that with a certain power -- that he needs them. It's one of the true things that Yaldabaoth told him that remains real: that he needed friends, that he needed his connections.

If he hadn't met them, he wonders how much more similar to Akechi he would be by now. ]

[He makes an odd sort of garbled sound in the back of his throat, pushing himself away with one arm enough to put the back of his opposite hand to the bridge of his nose. He isn't sure he can open his eyes from the sudden throbbing pain between them, but he unsticks his jaw enough to mumble.] Mutual need, then.

...yeah. [ Akira feels bad that he's the reason Akechi is suffering now. Realistically, Akira is also the reason Akechi is alive, which -- is a mixed bag, all things considered.

Akira wonders, if Akechi had died, then -- ]

Here. Lay down. Neither of us got enough sleep last night.

[He shakes his head immediately, making a quiet sound and pressing his hand into his nose a little harder.] No, it-- I'm dizzy. Just. Stay there, please.

I'd go with you. [ Akira says, almost automatically, like he's reassuring him or just -- like he's trying. Akira nuzzles into Akechi slightly, letting his head rest on Akechi's shoulder. He inhales, slowly.

Akechi seems to have the same hair care routine even without being the Detective Prince. It's a funny detail that Akira doesn't know what to do with. ]

But I'll stay here as long as you need.

Okay, [His voice is small, and for some reason it irritates him. It's not like he's unbothered by weakness or expressing it, but something about it in that moment frustrates him more than it might, otherwise, and he sags at his arm where it's braced against Akira, leaving them in a sort of double-folded pile.] I'm sorry, whatever happened... It seems to be a lot more trouble than I meant.

I don't mind. [ It's soft, and warm, because it's a truth -- in either world. He likes that Akechi needs him. It makes him feel less like he's a selfish nightmare; makes him feel more like he can find his footing.

The last time he was directionless -- he doesn't want to be that angry again. ]

You're never trouble to me.

I probably should be, at least sometimes, [He argues, but it's without heat or malice. It's... actually sort of drab and quiet, really.] ...my head hurts.

You probably should be, but you aren't. [ Akira reaches back up, letting his fingers drift to Akechi's scalp again, to massage at his head gently. ]

I've got some painkillers.

Nnn, I think if I try to swallow anything right now I'll just be sick.

[The massage is nice, though.] Sorry, I'm being a baby. [He's always a baby-- this Goro is just not too proud to admit to it.]

I don't mind. [ Akira doesn't mind. He keeps up the massage, light and careful. ]

If your headache eases off, maybe we can watch something.

[He oozes, more than anything else, into a slumped position against Akira's front, about halfway to sliding into his lap.] Yeah. I still need to catch back up on Featherman, Futaba's going to kill me.

She downloads them all onto my laptop for me. [ Remotely, because Akira doesn't actually fully understand how torrenting works or how to use a VPN. He just lets Futaba do what she will, and periodically watches Featherman while studying. ]

C'mon. [ He shifts a little, moving to wiggle over so he can grab the laptop off the desk without fully detaching from Akechi. ]

Don't kill me if I fall asleep, though.

I won't, [He mumbles, wiggling a little until he's on the outside of the bed.] L'mme... stay over here, I don't wanna trip over you if I get up.

Okay. [ Akira sets the laptop up. There's a desktop folder titled WATCH ME NERD that contains all of Featherman, including several seasons that are, at the least, considerably outdated. ]

Which one did you leave off on? [ He settles back against the wall, next to Akechi, letting the laptop rest on both of their legs in between the two of them. ]

Sixteen of season eight, I think, [His eyes are closed, and he's not even really directed at the laptop, but it's fine.]

[ Akira turns it on. He keeps the volume and the screen brightness both low, to help ward off any of the headaches. He wonders if it's the same episode in both realities? He'll have to check, when... if they ever get back to the real reality.

He shifts slightly to wrap an arm around Akechi. He isn't exactly encouraging him to lean against him, but -- no, that's a lie, he totally is. ]

[He mumbles something unintelligible, either about Featherman or maybe about Akira's unsubtle bid for cuddles, but he doesn't deny them, either. He drops sideways into him and buries his face in the side of his neck, his skin too hot and his breathing and heartbeat both erratic for a while until combined effort of Akira and Featherman lull him into a healing state of unconsciousness.]

[And things were okay for a while, after that. Akechi continued to have strange dreams, but he decided to not talk about them. It was a strange impulse, at first, because the second one he woke up from shouting and had to push past his mother's concern to be violently sick, he decided while hunched over the toilet that he would maybe not tell Akira immediately because of how stressed he'd been about the first one. His mother's hand on his back was cold in a really disorienting way, and at the same time he realized her hands shouldn't be cold, a part of his brain clicked into place that told him he could under no circumstances trust Kurusu with the vulnerability of being up at 2am vomiting nerves over a nightmare about killing Okumura Kunikazu.]

[His brain wandered between being alarmed that he was having multiple dreams about killing his friends' parents, being confused that he called Akira by his family name, something he hadn't done in years, and wondering why his mother's hands were always cold from that point onward.]

[Independently, his mother had reached out to Akira. She called Leblanc on the yellow phone on the counter instead of texting him-- she had his ChatID because she was friendly, and Akira was extremely important to her son, but it wasn't something she wanted Goro to be able to come across, even if by accident. So she called, and she spoke to Sojiro for a bit before asking to speak to Akira, and asking if she could trouble him to find a reason to stay over for a few nights. Goro hadn't been sleeping well, and in a drastic response had chosen to not sleep at all a night or two, and she didn't know how to help him. She knew he and Akira were close, and she didn't bother to ask how close, but she knew if anyone could convince Goro to sleep, and potentially soothe him enough to sleep a full night through, it would be Akira.]

[Akechi, of course, was nonethewiser, running at 47.5 hours since he had last slept, trying to ignore the way his hand shook as he picked up his third mug of coffee in as many hours.]

[ Akira knew this was going to come. He knew it was going to happen, so he was prepared for it, in a way: he hears himself make promises to Akechi's mother and calm excuses to Sojiro; he brushes off their concern as he sets out. Things have been steadily breaking, and he's waiting for the moment everything cracks -- he can see it happen, in the way Morgana looks at his hands too long in confusion, in the way Futaba will look at her mother with a stricken expression, in the way Ryuji's leg sometimes gives out for no good reason.

So he was waiting for this. He leaves his bag at home. It feels too light without Morgana inside of it, and there's nothing he needs to bring when Akechi is clearly not in need of any coffee. He does bring a container of curry and rice, but it's more to placate Akechi's mother than anything else.

He doesn't think Akechi will be eating.

He gets to the door and inhales, slowly, glancing at the chat as Futaba says it's weird that Morgana doesn't have a chat ID, right?. He turns his phone off and knocks, offering Akechi's mother a smile and an easy platitude before he steps in to see Akechi. ]

... hey. [ Is all he offers. ]

[He looks... terrible. Truly. His skin is sallow and his eyes are sunken, he hasn't brushed his hair in the better part of a day, and with the way he keeps scrubbing a hand backward through it, it's sticking up in at least four directions at any given angle. He nearly drops his coffee mug at the sound of Akira's voice, dropping his pen in favor of setting it down not too hard, and there's a brief, almost glitch-like flash of viciousness in his expression when he looks up.]

K-- [He flinches, exhaling and looking at his mug, then his mess of papers all over the table, and when he looks back up he looks even more tired, somehow.] Akira?

[His mother steps briefly into view behind Akira, and Goro's eyes shift to her-- the guilt in her expression undoes any covertness she managed up until that point with asking Akira over. His stomach drops.] ...oh.

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