[He isn't a toddler - doesn't need someone to make a bed for him, like he's getting ready to take a nap at preschool. Acting the part of a teacher dutifully rolling out a bed and ushering him into it with prod of his foot.
It does look comfortable.
He's irritated. Doesn't make an effort to roll over because he doesn't need it. Dragging himself out of the room with his hands alone is an option.
Fingers tested with small movements against the plush fabric. One hand is fine. The other? Problematic. No dragging.
Snack hits the ground next to him - he doesn't move. The light-
Vanishes and there's something about licking wounds in the dark. Recovering under a blanket of anonymity. Being able to ignore the profound embarrassment of having mercy and care given in general, let alone by someone he almost killed not even an hour ago.
It's so pathetic and -
The bedroll is better than a stone. The winter blanket alleviating the worst of his inflamed muscles and body's persistent, stinging tension. Everything coiled together twenty times over.
A rustle of plastic - small bite taken. His stomach churns with the sudden invasion and it's set aside. All the better. Laying in crumbs is a different sort of nightmare and an irritation he isn't willing to contend with in the morning.
The morning. After he wakes up on Maruki's floor - his alarm will go off in an hour. A couple. He can text Eren and move back to his room then. An hour or two should be enough to pull him back to a functioning minimum.
It's quiet. Akechi's exhausted. Maruki is too, but he doubts he can sleep with a murderer so close to his head, even one that's incapacitated.
And under the cover of a pitch black room that his eyes are slowly adjusting to - gaze settling on specks of dust and dirt visible under the bed frame.
It's quiet, and then it's not-]
Everyone has a limit, Maruki.
[Ten clumps of dust, dispersed evenly under the bed.]
I wonder how long it will take before you start to form your revenge against me.
[A shuffle. Blanket up to chin. He doesn't care about the already overwhelming heat. It's like -
Being in a bathhouse.]
Or maybe you already have and I'll find out when we return to our reality. Perhaps I'll find you in Shido's office spilling every secret.
[Maruki wouldn't - his contempt for Shido stronger than whatever malicious feelings should be forming in his heart for Akechi.]
He wouldn't listen to you anyway - not unless you provide proof of your ability and show him your value upfront. An ability he and his sycophants can use immediately.
[He's tired.]
For the record, he would kill you on the spot if you showed him the true extent of your power. He doesn't allow strength he can't control. Power above his own.
[He's so tired.]
You're better off finding someone who wants to overthrow him - there are plenty in his circle. Sell your soul to the lesser evil.
no subject
It does look comfortable.
He's irritated. Doesn't make an effort to roll over because he doesn't need it. Dragging himself out of the room with his hands alone is an option.
Fingers tested with small movements against the plush fabric. One hand is fine. The other? Problematic. No dragging.
Snack hits the ground next to him - he doesn't move. The light-
Vanishes and there's something about licking wounds in the dark. Recovering under a blanket of anonymity. Being able to ignore the profound embarrassment of having mercy and care given in general, let alone by someone he almost killed not even an hour ago.
It's so pathetic and -
The bedroll is better than a stone. The winter blanket alleviating the worst of his inflamed muscles and body's persistent, stinging tension. Everything coiled together twenty times over.
A rustle of plastic - small bite taken. His stomach churns with the sudden invasion and it's set aside. All the better. Laying in crumbs is a different sort of nightmare and an irritation he isn't willing to contend with in the morning.
The morning. After he wakes up on Maruki's floor - his alarm will go off in an hour. A couple. He can text Eren and move back to his room then. An hour or two should be enough to pull him back to a functioning minimum.
It's quiet. Akechi's exhausted. Maruki is too, but he doubts he can sleep with a murderer so close to his head, even one that's incapacitated.
And under the cover of a pitch black room that his eyes are slowly adjusting to - gaze settling on specks of dust and dirt visible under the bed frame.
It's quiet, and then it's not-]
Everyone has a limit, Maruki.
[Ten clumps of dust, dispersed evenly under the bed.]
I wonder how long it will take before you start to form your revenge against me.
[A shuffle. Blanket up to chin. He doesn't care about the already overwhelming heat. It's like -
Being in a bathhouse.]
Or maybe you already have and I'll find out when we return to our reality. Perhaps I'll find you in Shido's office spilling every secret.
[Maruki wouldn't - his contempt for Shido stronger than whatever malicious feelings should be forming in his heart for Akechi.]
He wouldn't listen to you anyway - not unless you provide proof of your ability and show him your value upfront. An ability he and his sycophants can use immediately.
[He's tired.]
For the record, he would kill you on the spot if you showed him the true extent of your power. He doesn't allow strength he can't control. Power above his own.
[He's so tired.]
You're better off finding someone who wants to overthrow him - there are plenty in his circle. Sell your soul to the lesser evil.