[ In Tokyo, his bedroom is always half-illuminated.
He could get heavier curtains to block out some of the perpetual night life glow, but he's used to it. He didn't spend his whole life in the largest city in the world without developing the ability to fall asleep under any circumstances – noisy, brightly lit, facedown on a lecture hall desk, standing in a crowded train, half-slumped on an office couch.
He can't get used to this. The way nighttime in Somnius is pitch black, the way they can see all the stars even from the comparatively populated housing or business areas. The inky darkness of his room every night.
Maruki stares off into it now. Even with his eyes adjusted, he can't make anything out in the room. Not even the shape of Akechi beneath the blankets on the floor only a few feet away. He blinks. He can still feel shards of glass that don't exist embedded in his eyes. Can still feel blood that's already been staunched wiped away bandaged over, can still sense the copper tang when he inhales, can still taste it on his tongue. Can still feel hands ripping his flesh apart like a clawed beast. Can still feel a hard object striking his throat again and again and again andagainandagainandagain until his breathing sounded like a death rattle to his own ears.
Can still feel what it was like for the darkness to close in, swift and quiet and peaceful, even as he fought.
He draws a breath. Deep, even. No blood and bile pooling in the base of his throat to choke him if the collapsed obstruction didn't first. He's safe.
Akechi is falling asleep nearby, and he says he isn't sorry despite all the care he's shown tonight alone, to say nothing of the rest of their time together, and Maruki is safe. ]
cw eye trauma, graphic violence
He could get heavier curtains to block out some of the perpetual night life glow, but he's used to it. He didn't spend his whole life in the largest city in the world without developing the ability to fall asleep under any circumstances – noisy, brightly lit, facedown on a lecture hall desk, standing in a crowded train, half-slumped on an office couch.
He can't get used to this. The way nighttime in Somnius is pitch black, the way they can see all the stars even from the comparatively populated housing or business areas. The inky darkness of his room every night.
Maruki stares off into it now. Even with his eyes adjusted, he can't make anything out in the room. Not even the shape of Akechi beneath the blankets on the floor only a few feet away. He blinks. He can still feel shards of glass that don't exist embedded in his eyes. Can still feel blood that's already been staunched wiped away bandaged over, can still sense the copper tang when he inhales, can still taste it on his tongue. Can still feel hands ripping his flesh apart like a clawed beast. Can still feel a hard object striking his throat again and again and again andagainandagainandagain until his breathing sounded like a death rattle to his own ears.
Can still feel what it was like for the darkness to close in, swift and quiet and peaceful, even as he fought.
He draws a breath. Deep, even. No blood and bile pooling in the base of his throat to choke him if the collapsed obstruction didn't first. He's safe.
Akechi is falling asleep nearby, and he says he isn't sorry despite all the care he's shown tonight alone, to say nothing of the rest of their time together, and Maruki is safe. ]
I wouldn't expect you to, Akechi. Good night.