[He probably wouldn't have texted him anyway, since he was pretty sure Akira was working. He drifts a bit, closing his eyes and not-quite dozing, though his fingers stop curling in toward his palm and Morgana chooses to stand in his palm with both his paws, instead, which prompts him to hum and fold two fingers between each of his paws so they stay there.]

[At the bit about watching Featherman with Futaba, Akechi leans his weight backward a little so he can look up at Akira with a frown.] ...I'm not sick, exactly. I'll let her play my box set, though, it's one of the very few things I can sleep through. [Because of course, letting his literal life drain out of him the way he has has once again exhausted him nearly completely.] ...for what it's worth, given the circumstances, I am sorry. [He's still speaking slowly, though he's slurring less.]

[Above them, the dryer rumbles to a stop and chimes pleasantly.]