[it's a very quiet noise, but to Akira, it feels like an echo in a cavern]
[his groggy, drowsy mind immediately snaps awake, gaze flickering up, expression slack as he blinks away the excess sleep in his eyes. Brilith isn't around, and he and Luna are the only ones in the room, so that means. . .]
Lu-- Luna?
[brb time to scramble to his feet (sans crutch) to stumble towards her side]
i'm so done with the robot icon it can fucking jump off a cliff
Along with those errors comes a flood of emotion, of surprise, of confusion, of fear, on hearing such a familiar voice off in the background. How... how long had he been there? What time was it? She hears his stumbling steps, carefully turning her head towards the sound.]
...Akira...? [Most of the tinny quality has been repaired, leaving her voice, instead, raw and exhausted.]
[She feels that touch, the movement of her hand and arm sending errors of their own. She can't hide the full body flinch. But she does weakly curl her fingers underneath his.]
...Yes. Thanks to Brilith.
[She'll take in a shaking breath, turning on her eyes on her exhale. The light flickers more than it should, her body shuddering slightly. The feed still warps at first, colors and light not coming through correctly. But she gives it a moment, not looking at anything in particular. All she can do is tiredly lifting her shaking fingers under his grasp, letting him know she's awake, she's aware.]
[his fingers curl around hers as tightly as he can manage, although still not tightly enough to hurt her should her touch and pain receptors be sensitive. he dips his head down, resting his forehead against their conjoined hands, and just. . .]
[breathes]
[because it's true. she did break that promise, didn't she? but somehow, he can't bring himself to be angry with her at all. he's just. . . so relieved, so happy, that she's okay]
I'm-- [there's a choked note in his voice, but he swallows it quickly]
I'm so glad you're okay. I'm so glad you're alive.
[Her head turns, just enough that her adjusting eyes can try to see what he's doing. She hears that break in his voice, and it makes her chest twist with a tightened breath of a sound out of her mouth.
She lets her own fingers grip against his own, though there isn't much strength behind the action. She wants to lift her arm and place it in his hair, to touch his face, to see those dark eyes full of fire and let him know that she's still here. But she's drained, emotionally and physically, and the mere sight of him curled up next to where she's been sitting for hours is enough to wrench at her spirits. He's... worried for her.
...
It hurts. But she slowly lets some of her more human processes turn on, lets her chest rise and fall with the inhale and exhale of breath. The pain colors her voice noticeably, to be doing this... but she has no other way to subtly let him know that she's okay, awake, alive...]
I... I know you tried to help. I didn't want you to get hurt.
[the sight and feel of her shaking off his hand as she bolted towards Nic, towards Zenitsu, is still enough to make his entire chest clench with fear. is breath hitches in his throat, but he actively tries to smooth those feelings out. it's okay, he thinks. Brilith saved her.s he's okay]
[so why does he still feel like he's about to crumble into a thousand pieces. . .?]
I know. . . I couldn't have stopped you. No matter what I tried.
[To hear him exhaustedly concede like this is so unusual, a moment that feels oddly vulnerable, only reminding her of the conversations she's had in the limited times she has been awake, of how many concerned voices crept into her awareness, filled with dread or anger or exhausted relief.]
I... I won't ask you to forgive me. But I...
Even though I thought I was making the best decision... the decision I had to make to keep someone else from being harmed... I...
[Her voice cracks, the sound of her next breath flooded with emotion.]
I-I still... I still hurt a lot of people... didn't I...
[he shakes his head at that, though he still refuses to lift it from their linked hands]
There's nothing to forgive.
[because it hurts, but it was still her choice. her agency. her decision. something she wanted, and considering how much this house has taken from her and everyone within it. . . that means something]
Wordlessly, Luna shifts her body, just enough to bring her other arm over and place her free hand against Akira's hair.]
I... would have been so scared, if our positions had been switched. I don't... I don't know if I would know what to do. Even if I could try to help, I... I would still be horrified. Not just for what had happened, but...
The thought of truly losing someone I... I-I care so much about... I think it would paralyze me.
[and finally, with her fingers-- cool and hard as they are-- pressed against his hair. . . Akira looks up]
[he isn't crying, per se, but there is a certain glassy look in his eyes as he meets her gaze (or what passes for a gaze while she is like this) as firmly as he can. his grip on her fingers tightens, and he ignores the way the metal of her bones digs into the soft skin of his palm]
Yeah. It's terrifying.
[god is it terrifying. and they've both gone through it so many more times than what is fair during their time in this house]
And it's not. . . fair. That either of us are being put in that position. Is it. . .?
[and when he says that, it's clear he's referring to the house, to this game, to the circumstances surrounding their capture. not Luna's decision itself]
We should be. . . I don't know. Drinking coffee, or going out to see a movie, or shopping, or hanging out and playing video games, or-- or something. [a slight note of frustration seeps into his words] Something-- anything-- but this.
[She doesn't have the energy to fully sit up, to embrace him the way she wants when she sees that look in his eyes, a strong and stubborn and unfortunately overworked personality finally cracking at the seams.
She carefully brushes the bangs from his face, knuckles against his skin, her voice quiet as she repeats to him what he'd told her the week prior.]
[almost surreal, hearing those words echoed back to him nearly a week later, spoken from Luna like they're her own. he finds himself forgetting how to breath, even as his own eyes screw shut, even as he tilts his head into that touch which is somehow laden with warmth despite her current appearance]
[something snaps. something familiar and yet not, all in one]
Why. . .
[he breathes out that word, his features twisted and pinched together, and presses their joined hands against his face to try and hide his expression. he is trembling]
W-- why would I? There's nothing to c-cry about. . . you're okay, right? So it's. . . f-fine.
[Her touch stays as gentle as it has always been, stroking his hair, curling her fingers against his own and feeling herself ache even further at how Akira trembles under her hands.]
...You and I both know that nothing about this is fine, or fair, or normal. It's cruel. It's... it's exhausting. It's exhausting to... to be the one everyone else relies on.
If you could let someone like me, who doesn't even think of my emotions as completely real, still have a moment to mourn... then please. Please. Don't let this place convince you of anything else, other than its horror.
This place only takes, Akira. Even if all it takes in the moment is normalcy, or stability, or the comfort of knowing someone might be alive the next morning... it's okay to mourn what is being lost.
[he doesn't know what does it. he doesn't know, at what point, the part of him that was holding back finally decides to burst. all he knows is that the cracking grows louder, the tightness in his chest increases, his entire face feels hot and gross and--]
[and. . .]
[he pitches forward to bury his face against the table on which Luna rests, her hand still resting underneath him. he doesn't make any sounds-- each and every one is stifled before it can tumble from his lips-- but. . . the trembling increases]
[and it's so strange, so weirdly cathartic, to finally let go after six weeks of holding himself back]
[She won't interrupt. But Akira may hear her weight shift, her free hand moving to rest gently at the nape of his neck as she leans her head to rest against his, her face partially buried in the curly dark locks of his hair. It would be a kiss, were she in any other form but this.
[it might not be a kiss as Akira has come to know them, but the intent is there. . . and in these circumstances, it's enough]
[. . .]
[he tilts his head into it, lifting his face slightly so she can see the red of his eyes, even though he almost instantly lifts a hand to cover them, to wipe away whatever moisture was accumulating at the edges. he had his moment. he needs to focus now. . . doesn't he?]
[he is only allowed so long to break and crack and crumble. he needs to pull himself back together]
Sorry.
[he shouldn't be apologizing. Luna invited this, after all]
. . . I'm sorry.
[but he is not used to being this open, to being this vulnerable in front of others]
[She'll see that look in his eyes, noting it, but carefully turning her view from it, giving him the privacy he wants, instead resting her temple against his head as she speaks.]
I worry about you. You take on so much... and you try so hard to help everyone cooperate. But... I never see anyone do the same for you. And I... I worry. Even for the strongest people, or those with the bravest types of generosity... there's only so much hurt a heart can hold without collapsing.
[Her own hand stays steady in the grip of his trembling fingers, her thumb tracing a gentle circle against the flesh.]
I'm glad to see you let yourself be perfectly human. It... it lets me know that you're going to be okay.
[he huffs a small noise, something between a laugh and a sigh, and tilts his head into her temple as his eyes slip shut again. out of her view, he lifts a hand to wipe at his face, to rub away any lingering moisture on his cheeks]
I've been relying on other people. . . don't worry.
[leaning on others, allowing himself to be pep-talked when needed. but it's true he hasn't crumbled so thoroughly on any of them except for her, and he knows that says a lot about how much he trusts her]
It's easier to keep going, no matter how much it hurts. It's easier to remind myself to keep fighting, rather than to let myself mourn.
[There's a hint of amusement in her voice, though it's very, very gentle.]
The people who care about you want to listen, regardless of whether things are good or bad. I don't think it's necessarily a bad thing to save it for a private moment, but... you have to be able to talk about things that weigh on you at some point, or it will damage how you can help others.
[it's strange, to be reminded that people are relying on him. because as flawlessly as he had fallen into the role of Leader back home, with his Phantom Thieves, he had never been the most popular guy among his peers. he had never expected anyone else beyond his thieves to care about him so much]
[. . .]
[it's strange, but it's. . . nice. and it's nice to finally let some of this out to someone he knows will hold his hand until the moment passes]
[he shifts to pull away from her, though he doesn't go far, his forehead still close enough to be pressed against her cool, metallic one. his eyes are closed again, and his smile is wry and lopsided]
. . . thanks.
[for reminding him that he can break, too. for reminding him that breaking isn't the end, but rather the start of a new beginning]
[The hand at his neck gently slides up to rest right back in his hair, her touch light. She's not here to keep him from leaving, after all... only to let him know she's there.]
...You're welcome.
[It's genuine, warm and pleasant, even with the pained tone in every other syllable. She trusts him deeply, after all. To be trusted in return, and by someone she cares so much for... it makes her heart feel so full.
Her eyes flicker to the side as she catches sight of his crutch on the floor, abandoned.]
You... haven't been on the floor this whole time, have you? D-Did you get any sleep at all?
[please, as though he'd pull away and completely ruin a moment like this one. not even when she asks that question, concern lacing every word of her voice]
[he huffs a little, a small expression of amusement]
[and finally, he draws back, though only to search her. . . well. she doesn't have much of an expression right now, does she? he watches the way the red of her eyes flickers, the light dim but strong, and lets out a small breath]
Are you sure. . .?
[she probably needs the rest too, now that he's thinking about it]
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[his groggy, drowsy mind immediately snaps awake, gaze flickering up, expression slack as he blinks away the excess sleep in his eyes. Brilith isn't around, and he and Luna are the only ones in the room, so that means. . .]
Lu-- Luna?
[brb time to scramble to his feet (sans crutch) to stumble towards her side]
i'm so done with the robot icon it can fucking jump off a cliff
Along with those errors comes a flood of emotion, of surprise, of confusion, of fear, on hearing such a familiar voice off in the background. How... how long had he been there? What time was it? She hears his stumbling steps, carefully turning her head towards the sound.]
...Akira...? [Most of the tinny quality has been repaired, leaving her voice, instead, raw and exhausted.]
TOMORROW YOU WILL BE FREE
Luna? Luna. . .
[his voice is a mixture of emotion, but the most obvious one is relief]
You're-- you're okay. . .
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...Yes. Thanks to Brilith.
[She'll take in a shaking breath, turning on her eyes on her exhale. The light flickers more than it should, her body shuddering slightly. The feed still warps at first, colors and light not coming through correctly. But she gives it a moment, not looking at anything in particular. All she can do is tiredly lifting her shaking fingers under his grasp, letting him know she's awake, she's aware.]
...I'm so sorry. I... I broke my promise...
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[his fingers curl around hers as tightly as he can manage, although still not tightly enough to hurt her should her touch and pain receptors be sensitive. he dips his head down, resting his forehead against their conjoined hands, and just. . .]
[breathes]
[because it's true. she did break that promise, didn't she? but somehow, he can't bring himself to be angry with her at all. he's just. . . so relieved, so happy, that she's okay]
I'm-- [there's a choked note in his voice, but he swallows it quickly]
I'm so glad you're okay. I'm so glad you're alive.
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She lets her own fingers grip against his own, though there isn't much strength behind the action. She wants to lift her arm and place it in his hair, to touch his face, to see those dark eyes full of fire and let him know that she's still here. But she's drained, emotionally and physically, and the mere sight of him curled up next to where she's been sitting for hours is enough to wrench at her spirits. He's... worried for her.
...
It hurts. But she slowly lets some of her more human processes turn on, lets her chest rise and fall with the inhale and exhale of breath. The pain colors her voice noticeably, to be doing this... but she has no other way to subtly let him know that she's okay, awake, alive...]
I... I know you tried to help. I didn't want you to get hurt.
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[the sight and feel of her shaking off his hand as she bolted towards Nic, towards Zenitsu, is still enough to make his entire chest clench with fear. is breath hitches in his throat, but he actively tries to smooth those feelings out. it's okay, he thinks. Brilith saved her.s he's okay]
[so why does he still feel like he's about to crumble into a thousand pieces. . .?]
I know. . . I couldn't have stopped you. No matter what I tried.
[. . .]
And that part of you is still good.
[even if, deep down, it hurts]
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I... I won't ask you to forgive me. But I...
Even though I thought I was making the best decision... the decision I had to make to keep someone else from being harmed... I...
[Her voice cracks, the sound of her next breath flooded with emotion.]
I-I still... I still hurt a lot of people... didn't I...
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There's nothing to forgive.
[because it hurts, but it was still her choice. her agency. her decision. something she wanted, and considering how much this house has taken from her and everyone within it. . . that means something]
[and in the end--]
If it had been me. . . I would've done the same.
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Wordlessly, Luna shifts her body, just enough to bring her other arm over and place her free hand against Akira's hair.]
I... would have been so scared, if our positions had been switched. I don't... I don't know if I would know what to do. Even if I could try to help, I... I would still be horrified. Not just for what had happened, but...
The thought of truly losing someone I... I-I care so much about... I think it would paralyze me.
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[he isn't crying, per se, but there is a certain glassy look in his eyes as he meets her gaze (or what passes for a gaze while she is like this) as firmly as he can. his grip on her fingers tightens, and he ignores the way the metal of her bones digs into the soft skin of his palm]
Yeah. It's terrifying.
[god is it terrifying. and they've both gone through it so many more times than what is fair during their time in this house]
And it's not. . . fair. That either of us are being put in that position. Is it. . .?
[and when he says that, it's clear he's referring to the house, to this game, to the circumstances surrounding their capture. not Luna's decision itself]
We should be. . . I don't know. Drinking coffee, or going out to see a movie, or shopping, or hanging out and playing video games, or-- or something. [a slight note of frustration seeps into his words] Something-- anything-- but this.
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[She doesn't have the energy to fully sit up, to embrace him the way she wants when she sees that look in his eyes, a strong and stubborn and unfortunately overworked personality finally cracking at the seams.
She carefully brushes the bangs from his face, knuckles against his skin, her voice quiet as she repeats to him what he'd told her the week prior.]
...It's okay to cry.
It's... it's just me. I'm still here.
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[almost surreal, hearing those words echoed back to him nearly a week later, spoken from Luna like they're her own. he finds himself forgetting how to breath, even as his own eyes screw shut, even as he tilts his head into that touch which is somehow laden with warmth despite her current appearance]
[something snaps. something familiar and yet not, all in one]
Why. . .
[he breathes out that word, his features twisted and pinched together, and presses their joined hands against his face to try and hide his expression. he is trembling]
W-- why would I? There's nothing to c-cry about. . . you're okay, right? So it's. . . f-fine.
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...You and I both know that nothing about this is fine, or fair, or normal. It's cruel. It's... it's exhausting. It's exhausting to... to be the one everyone else relies on.
If you could let someone like me, who doesn't even think of my emotions as completely real, still have a moment to mourn... then please. Please. Don't let this place convince you of anything else, other than its horror.
This place only takes, Akira. Even if all it takes in the moment is normalcy, or stability, or the comfort of knowing someone might be alive the next morning... it's okay to mourn what is being lost.
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[he doesn't know what does it. he doesn't know, at what point, the part of him that was holding back finally decides to burst. all he knows is that the cracking grows louder, the tightness in his chest increases, his entire face feels hot and gross and--]
[and. . .]
[he pitches forward to bury his face against the table on which Luna rests, her hand still resting underneath him. he doesn't make any sounds-- each and every one is stifled before it can tumble from his lips-- but. . . the trembling increases]
[and it's so strange, so weirdly cathartic, to finally let go after six weeks of holding himself back]
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It's okay. She's here.]
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[. . .]
[he tilts his head into it, lifting his face slightly so she can see the red of his eyes, even though he almost instantly lifts a hand to cover them, to wipe away whatever moisture was accumulating at the edges. he had his moment. he needs to focus now. . . doesn't he?]
[he is only allowed so long to break and crack and crumble. he needs to pull himself back together]
Sorry.
[he shouldn't be apologizing. Luna invited this, after all]
. . . I'm sorry.
[but he is not used to being this open, to being this vulnerable in front of others]
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[She'll see that look in his eyes, noting it, but carefully turning her view from it, giving him the privacy he wants, instead resting her temple against his head as she speaks.]
I worry about you. You take on so much... and you try so hard to help everyone cooperate. But... I never see anyone do the same for you. And I... I worry. Even for the strongest people, or those with the bravest types of generosity... there's only so much hurt a heart can hold without collapsing.
[Her own hand stays steady in the grip of his trembling fingers, her thumb tracing a gentle circle against the flesh.]
I'm glad to see you let yourself be perfectly human. It... it lets me know that you're going to be okay.
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I've been relying on other people. . . don't worry.
[leaning on others, allowing himself to be pep-talked when needed. but it's true he hasn't crumbled so thoroughly on any of them except for her, and he knows that says a lot about how much he trusts her]
It's easier to keep going, no matter how much it hurts. It's easier to remind myself to keep fighting, rather than to let myself mourn.
[. . .]
. . . that makes me a big hypocrite, doesn't it?
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[There's a hint of amusement in her voice, though it's very, very gentle.]
The people who care about you want to listen, regardless of whether things are good or bad. I don't think it's necessarily a bad thing to save it for a private moment, but... you have to be able to talk about things that weigh on you at some point, or it will damage how you can help others.
I don't think anyone wants that.
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[it's strange, to be reminded that people are relying on him. because as flawlessly as he had fallen into the role of Leader back home, with his Phantom Thieves, he had never been the most popular guy among his peers. he had never expected anyone else beyond his thieves to care about him so much]
[. . .]
[it's strange, but it's. . . nice. and it's nice to finally let some of this out to someone he knows will hold his hand until the moment passes]
[he shifts to pull away from her, though he doesn't go far, his forehead still close enough to be pressed against her cool, metallic one. his eyes are closed again, and his smile is wry and lopsided]
. . . thanks.
[for reminding him that he can break, too. for reminding him that breaking isn't the end, but rather the start of a new beginning]
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...You're welcome.
[It's genuine, warm and pleasant, even with the pained tone in every other syllable. She trusts him deeply, after all. To be trusted in return, and by someone she cares so much for... it makes her heart feel so full.
Her eyes flicker to the side as she catches sight of his crutch on the floor, abandoned.]
You... haven't been on the floor this whole time, have you? D-Did you get any sleep at all?
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[he huffs a little, a small expression of amusement]
I slept.
[IIIIISH. . .]
Enough, anyway.
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I'm okay. I'll be okay. Please... please, go get some rest. Even if it's just on the couches in the lounge.
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Are you sure. . .?
[she probably needs the rest too, now that he's thinking about it]
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