ɪɴʙᴏx [ᴇxᴘɪᴀᴛɪᴏɴ]

[chemex]

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[chemex]

[Akira is-- actually sort of alarmed. He shifts back, scooting so his butt is between Akechi's thighs on the ground instead of on him to pin him down, and hauls him up to sit by his shoulders. He takes a chance, then, and lets go of his shoulders in favor of reaching out and splaying his hands against his jaw and the base of his skull.]

[It puts his hands dangerously close to where Chuuya's were, but with a much gentler hold.]

Akechi! Snap out of it. What happened?

[murderingjustice]

Don't you fucking tell me-- [He begins with his vitriol but he's hauled up. However, instead of using the moment to launch another attack he wraps his arms around Akira's back, nails digging into his sides as much as the fabric of his shirt allows.

And well.. RIP to Akira's ears and to all those who might be near because Akechi just screams. Letting out that pent up aggression, hate and frustration out. All that he's been holding in ever since arriving here, without having a way to let them out. He keeps going until his lungs burn and his voice dies out, the tension slowly fading away from his body, leaving him light and gasping for the air.

A moment. And another. Then allows his hold loosen, but not yet letting go.]

Stop smothering me.

[chemex]

[Bitchy Wife why must you be so unbelievably insane at all times?]

[Akira winces at the way Akechi just grabs him, and then goes very still when Akechi starts screaming, letting his hands come to rest at the base of his neck, instead. After a while once he falls silent, he smudges his thumbs against his skin in something he hopes is a comforting gesture.]

...I'm not.

[murderingjustice]

[He's here to make sure you won't have a boring moment in your life.]

You are. [He mutters against Akira's shoulder, voice raw and and quiet. Another moment passes. Akechi takes deep breath and taps other's back lightly.]

Really. I'm done. You can let go now.

[chemex]

[He shifts his hands again, reaching around behind him and hugging him close for the briefest of seconds.]

...okay. [And he does-- releases him completely, but doesn't move away. He'll leave that to Akechi.] You good?

[murderingjustice]

[A frown appears to his face and he's about to lecture Akira being so damn clingy but then it registers that it's actually him who keeps holding on the other. Lips drawn slightly back he pushes himself away from their embrace. His cheeks are flushed red from all the screaming, but outside of that it's like all the color has been drained from his face.]

Of course. [An ugly croak. Yeah, he's looking at Akira like the last few minutes didn't just happen.]

[chemex]

[He frowns, sagging into his usual horrendous posture and staying put.]

Okay. You gonna tell me what that was all about?

[murderingjustice]

[Akechi averts his gaze, focusing on the spot of the grass on their side rather than Akira's face.

'No', he almost says. He doesn't want to tell him a freaking thing but he knows Akira won't let it be if he stays silent.]

I was mad and needed to let out some steam. That's all.

[chemex]

[He nods.]

All right. You..., That's fine, you know? You can yell on me whenever. Just-- maybe don't. Do the smashing your head into things part? Whether it's my head or the ground. [He reaches out again, carefully smoothing down Akechi's hair.]

[murderingjustice]

I don't plan on getting a concussion if that's what you're-- Don't.

[He grunts and moves his head to the side. Now that all the adrenaline and tension is gone the pain from his injuries and ache from their brawl settles back in. Akira's touch doesn't hurt but it's uncomfortable enough to make him grimace a little]

How's your nose?

[chemex]

[He makes a face, rolling his eyes, but doesn't continue pawing.]

Bleeding, but it's fine. It's not broken, a nosebleed every so often is probably healthy, or something. What're the marks on your neck?

[murderingjustice]

[Don't make a face at him!! Akechi let's out an aggravated sigh, rolling his shoulders.]

I was in a fight. [Whiiiich isn't actually true. He couldn't do anything to Dazai while he toyed with Akechi.] It got messy.

[chemex]

[He nods.]

Figured. Anything other than the marks? ...did somebody try to choke you?

[murderingjustice]

Tch. [Akechi clicks his tongue and rolls his eyes at him.]

Nothing so dramatic. The person I fought stole my gun and broke finger. [He raises his hand showing him the swollen finger in the makeshift cast. It's already gained darker color around the broken knuckle.] Another guy showed up and grabbed my neck. That's where the marks are from.

[chemex]

[He looks a little affronted.]

Somebody just. Grabbed your neck and broke your finger, and this is just completely fine to you? Jeez. [He reaches out for his hand.] ...can. Will you let me look at this?

[murderingjustice]

Fine? Of course no-- [His voice breaks just as he's about to raise it. His face twists in annoyance but he does offer his hand to him. Reluctantly, mind you.]

[chemex]

[Akira takes his hand carefully and gives him a smile, not touching the broken finger but looking at it.]

...so you're telling me somebody broke your finger and put welts on your neck in the shape of hands, but this is completely fine. You can't tell me you don't know what this looks like.

[murderingjustice]

[Luckily, it has started to grow numb around the swollen area, but it's still sore enough to make him bite down his lip.]

No, Akira. I don't know what it looks like. [His voice is dry and cold. He knows what you're implying here and he doesn't like it.]

Why don't you tell me.

[chemex]

[He glowers, shaking his head with a roll of his eyes. Just to be a prick, he gently presses Akechi's broken finger between his own thumb and forefinger before leaving his hand flat for Akechi's to rest on or be removed.]

Torture, asshole.

[murderingjustice]

[Akechi hisses sharply at the sudden pressure as a hot pain flares up. And once Akira's done he withdraws his hand, giving him angry glare.]

Fuck you. Just because you got beaten up by some bastards doesn't mean this is the same.

[chemex]

God.

[He rubs his hands over his face roughly, sighing, and leaves his hands there a while. When he moves them, he looks tired, and doesn't make eye contact.] What do you want, Akechi? If we're done fighting and you're just gonna be a brat, maybe you ought to just go back to the Inn and rest. [He's certainly acting like a toddler in need of a nap.]

[murderingjustice]

[Alright, that was a low blow and even Akechi knows it. It's like there's this unspoken rule between them about not to talk what happened inside the integration room before Sae interrupted the officers. It's neatly placed right next to the subject called Shido.

But Akira raises a good question. What does he want. The fight has already left him, the fire's burnt out and he feels so beaten. Going back to the inn is the logical solution. At least there he could try to see if he could get a better medical attention than what he was able to give himself.]

I don't want your pity.

[chemex]

[He reaches into his own hair and pulls, seething.]

It's not-- Akechi. After all this time, do you honestly think me giving a shit is pity?

[murderingjustice]

[Akechi stares at Akira, taken a back by that outburst. Opens his mouth to answer him but then closes it, looking away.

He honestly doesn't know what to think of it... of this, whatever Akira is offering him. So he stays quiet.]

[chemex]

[He reaches out and takes Akechi's wrists, gently.]

It's not. Okay? It's not, and it never has been, and I just want to give a damn and be in your life and you make it so hard. [His voice is very small, and tired, and strained. He's too tenacious to give up but God does Akechi make it seem like the far, far easier option.]