[He's strangely numb, he finds, in Akira's absence. It's not the same numb he's accustomed to where he just doesn't feel, it's much more a numbness like being suspended in jelly made of salonpas. He's floating, more than anything, detached but almost pleasantly, slowly working his way through a plate of sweet curry that is still good even when it's not hot, and carefully peeling off a label with a teenage goblin's handwriting to fold and place in his pocket to keep for a sentimental reason he isn't willing to dissect.]
[The plate is mostly clean and the water bottle is empty, the coffee cup verily so when Akira comes back upstairs, and he's dozing leaned against the wall with his arms folded over the ledge of the window beside the mattress. He sits up and stretches, reaching out unthinkingly and tangling his fingers into Akira's in a way that shows he isn't entirely awake. He stays that way a while, booting up, and looks a bit like a chronically ill child on a good day when he finally looks up to him and processes the notion that Haru would like to see him.]
[He's confused, at first, because why would she-- but it makes sense, once he rolls it across his brain a few times. She was already present, they'd discussed the idea of her babysitting him because he was an invalid and couldn't be far from Akira without actually dying, and she was so polite it was maddening, at times. Of course she would want to come up and greet him, or have him come down to greet her, whether it involved discussing the verdict or not. He reclaims his fingers and tangles them together in his lap, instead, nodding.] I-- give me a moment to look less like a carcass, and of course.
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[The plate is mostly clean and the water bottle is empty, the coffee cup verily so when Akira comes back upstairs, and he's dozing leaned against the wall with his arms folded over the ledge of the window beside the mattress. He sits up and stretches, reaching out unthinkingly and tangling his fingers into Akira's in a way that shows he isn't entirely awake. He stays that way a while, booting up, and looks a bit like a chronically ill child on a good day when he finally looks up to him and processes the notion that Haru would like to see him.]
[He's confused, at first, because why would she-- but it makes sense, once he rolls it across his brain a few times. She was already present, they'd discussed the idea of her babysitting him because he was an invalid and couldn't be far from Akira without actually dying, and she was so polite it was maddening, at times. Of course she would want to come up and greet him, or have him come down to greet her, whether it involved discussing the verdict or not. He reclaims his fingers and tangles them together in his lap, instead, nodding.] I-- give me a moment to look less like a carcass, and of course.