Okay. Okay. [ Akira says it, almost distractedly, like he isn't really talking to either of them -- and he isn't; he's trying to get his bearings, trying to figure out how to handle this situation when his heart rate feels like it's going faster than a techno song and the panic response still makes his throat feel tight and his body flush with the desire to keep fighting or flighting, one of the two.

Akira exhales, slowly, then reaches out the hand that was on Akechi's wrist to pet Morgana's head, a little absently. ]

Sorry. I guess it got worse than expected. [ Akira eyes Akechi a little warily. ]

Can you stand, or do I need to take the back way to carry you home? [ Akechi's dignity absolutely will not allow the latter unless Akechi quite literally cannot walk himself, but Akira thinks "passed out on the floor of the laundromat" is also pretty high on the scale of indignities. ]