Does it matter? Would you prefer to be rotting on the ground? I suppose it's an insult to have your own killer raise you from the grave.

[It doesn't matter. The bunched up fabric against his back, held tight by a warm - too warm, incredibly warm hand doesn't matter. The means of his revival doesn't matter. Robin Hood is long gone, samarecarm's ethereal light disappearing into blooming sunlight around them.

Akechi hasn't moved. Does now. His hand slides off a now phantom wound against his stomach, head raising to meet Maruki's open eyes - bright, as if he wasn't only gasping for his last breath seconds ago. Tired, as if this was a tussle gone too far.]

This is a good opportunity for you. If you want revenge, take it now. It's not a skill I can use on myself.