Perhaps that power makes our scope too large. [ For the house. Of course. ] If we were to look at things a different way...
[ Maruki trails off, a hand coming up to rub beneath his glasses, too tired to truly commit to theorizing on ways they could try to break free from this reality. It's not the time for that, even if it's what they're couching this grief in.
When he drops his hand away, dark spots still dance behind his vision as the room comes back into focus, and he inclines his head toward Akechi. ]
Give me a moment.
[ It's as close as Akechi will come to saying he'll sleep out here too, and Maruki won't pass the opportunity up. He rises to his feet, stretches, ambles back upstairs to haul a too-thick comforter off Akechi's bed and grab for both of his pillows, gently shaking them out as he does. He knows the gun and his note aren't kept in there anymore, but he half-expects to see something of Izutsumi's.
Just because there's nothing there doesn't mean he isn't holding onto something somewhere else. A mouse, maybe. Or her scarf.
Back downstairs, he plops back down next to Akechi on the couch, spreads the comforter over both their laps. One pillow gets tossed to each end of the couch, in case they fall over to their respective sides when they knock out, but– Maruki's slept sitting up with Akechi before. He knows it's not unlikely they'll drift off just like this.
And he knows it won't happen anytime soon.
Eyes back on the snow globe, hands folded gently atop the plush fabric, he hums in consideration. ]
no subject
[ Maruki trails off, a hand coming up to rub beneath his glasses, too tired to truly commit to theorizing on ways they could try to break free from this reality. It's not the time for that, even if it's what they're couching this grief in.
When he drops his hand away, dark spots still dance behind his vision as the room comes back into focus, and he inclines his head toward Akechi. ]
Give me a moment.
[ It's as close as Akechi will come to saying he'll sleep out here too, and Maruki won't pass the opportunity up. He rises to his feet, stretches, ambles back upstairs to haul a too-thick comforter off Akechi's bed and grab for both of his pillows, gently shaking them out as he does. He knows the gun and his note aren't kept in there anymore, but he half-expects to see something of Izutsumi's.
Just because there's nothing there doesn't mean he isn't holding onto something somewhere else. A mouse, maybe. Or her scarf.
Back downstairs, he plops back down next to Akechi on the couch, spreads the comforter over both their laps. One pillow gets tossed to each end of the couch, in case they fall over to their respective sides when they knock out, but– Maruki's slept sitting up with Akechi before. He knows it's not unlikely they'll drift off just like this.
And he knows it won't happen anytime soon.
Eyes back on the snow globe, hands folded gently atop the plush fabric, he hums in consideration. ]
Have you ever been up on our roof?