[That sure does sound like a vase just shattered, and— who is that cursing? Joyous Day...?
Christ. Akira will need to apologize for that later, but after shouting a half-assed sorry, Akira temporarily stuffs up that hole with magic and stumbles back, falling to his knees. He'll fix that hole for real later, prommie.]
...Whew.
[Maybe that was what he needed. The heavy fog that had settled over him all day seems to have lifted, the oppressive weight on his shoulders gone. Is that it? Did the collective shock of getting zapped and throwing Day into a panic chase whatever spirit is possessing him out? Akira can only hope.]
Hey. Just... hold onto that gun for now, okay? Just in case.
[Solomon silently kicks the discarded gun to the side and advances on Akira wordlessly, wand still drawn.
Akira will be shoved backwards with a knee to the chin, prone onto his back. Another sharp incantation has Solomon's magic stirring under the press of the floor, hot and dark and aimless - an attempt at drawing a seal that he still can't quite manage, but that bubbles up from him on reflex alone under a cold, icy chant, under eyes that sharpen with an almost arrogant stature - a look so cross, so unwilling to be challenged, that he looks almost inhuman.]
"Hear me, denizens of darkness, you who are born of shadow and you who give birth to it. Hear me and do as I command! May the shackles of unwanted hold within the person before me be eliminated. May they come forward and show their name plainly.
Heed me, lest I bind thee, and rob thee of thy freedom."
[It's a tugging, like someone trying to grab into the realm of the unreal and yank something forcefully to the surface by the roots. But it's a spell demanding power that Solomon no longer has within his disposal, and though he's sweating with the effort, nothing emerges.
Get away. Know your place. He will not be threatened like this. Never by them.]
[Wh- Ah— Huh? Pardon him, but did Solomon just fullass knee-punch him square in the jaw??
Arrested by the look in Solomon's eyes, Akira remains frozen in place where he's ragdolled on the floor. What is this taste on his tongue...? Akira smacks his lips once, twice. Demons? Is this what demons taste like? And for that matter, why is he tasting anything at all while Solomon is working his black magic on him? He feels chills run up and down his spine, fire and brimstone crackling in his sinuses. Can we be certain Solomon isn't a demon himself?]
Uh...
[Solomon is so cool, but Akira doesn't have the heart to tell him that he feels no different now than he did before he was rudely kicked in the face and knocked to the floor. He just feels sore.]
[His exhales come a little heavier as his wand lowers, the magic sinking into the floor like water into the ground. He doesn't respond at first, watching Akira closely...
His nod is shallow as he holds a hand out to help him up, hesitant in letting his relief show through.]
[Akira asks warily, but he takes Solomon's hand without hesitation. He's wobbly on the way up, bracing himself on Solomon's forearms.]
Hey. Before you say anything, I'm sorry. [He'll be even more sorry when he realizes just how many floors that magic bullet passed through.] I... really don't know what came over me.
[His own stance wobbles a little as Akira's weight braces against him. But he stays still, letting Akira speak his peace with Solomon's full attention.]
You don't need to apologize.
Hold still for a minute.
[One of Akira's hands is moved up to Solomon's shoulder, if he needs it, so that the sorcerer can cup his fingers against Akira's chin and throat with a whisper. It's not potent healing, especially after how much effort he just poured out of himself for something that didn't even work. But it should, at least, dull the pain.]
[...Akira doesn't resist Solomon's gentle touch. His fingers are a warm comfort against his skin, his healing magic dulling the ache to something negligible and easy to ignore. Only now does he realize how starved for warmth he's been since returning from the mission. That creature, whatever it was, chilled him from the inside out. His skin is still noticeably cold beneath Solomon's fingers.]
Everything, as far as I can tell. We were taken to the castle to do a little ghostbusting. In the final stretch, I started feeling weird... like a blizzard swept straight through me.
[He still doesn't feel quite right, but Akira leaves that detail out. He's worried Solomon enough as it is.]
Maybe something attached itself to me at that time. I don't know.
I think that would be a good guess, unless we get more evidence to something otherwise. You haven't quite been yourself since you came home.
[The commotion from various parts of the house is starting to echo, but Solomon pays it only a glance of attention. Akira will feel Solomon's magic stretch out again from the pit of his neck into the depths of his chest - looking, just as it did before, and still unable to see a change. Was it there? Was it gone? It tenses his jaw with frustration, to have so little control here in the realm of what he knows.]
If it's still here... it's not somewhere I can sense.
...
[God, but his skin's so frigid... Shaking his head in an attempt to clear his irritation, Solomon shrugs off his jacket to throw it over Akira's shoulders, blowing on his own palms before cupping them against Akira's face more intentionally.]
I'll hold onto your gun. Do you have any other weapons on you?
[You know, he's not entirely opposed to feeling Solomon move inside of him, but this is not quite now Akira envisioned it. There's no point in telling the man to get out when he's searching him for his own sake. He'd rather know that the thing inside of him has evacuated than leave things up to chance.]
...I can't sense it either. Maybe that's a good sign.
[He can only hope.
Solomon's warmth feels nice against his skin. He closes his eyes to soak it in, to imagine locking that heat within himself in the hopes it won't ever leave. Maybe it'd chase this damn chill off. Maybe all he needs is to submerge himself in warmth long enough for the feeling to pass.
No sooner does Akira think that that his legs give out from beneath him, the strain on his body following a challenging mission finally catching up to him. He's tired, so very tired.]
...Sorry. My dagger... My dagger's on my desk. That's— all the weapons I have.
[There's a quiet exclamation at the sudden drop of weight, Solomon scrambling to wrap his arms tightly under Akira's with firm grips to the back of his shirt, an effort on reflex keep him from completely decking out on the floor again.]
Easy, easy does it-- Have my dancing lessons finally caught up to your legs? Maybe I should apologize to you instead. [It's a silly aside, but he lets it have its place, looking over towards Akira's desk long enough to note where he needs to make sure to check before he leaves.]
Let's get you somewhere a little less cold than the floor. [He repositions his arms, before pausing and thinking further on it.] ...May I pick you up?
[Aside from the obvious, what is wrong with him? Strength hemorrhages from Akira's body and he's left to the mercy of Solomon's arms, that dreadful cold licking at his limbs and creeping up his spine. It's hard to remember the last time he felt this pathetic, this weak. It was probably when he'd gotten arrested, left to sit alone in a holding cell with nothing but his own racing thoughts.
At least now he has someone to lean on, but he feels guilty putting this much of a burden on Solomon. A bit reluctantly, Akira answers.]
...Yeah. Go ahead.
[Sorry, Solomon. He'll make this up to you somehow.]
[Ah, the fight really had drained out of him, hadn't it? He doesn't comment on it, but seeing Akira snuffed out of his usual spark doesn't give him much to feel at ease about.
With careful hands, Solomon adjusts Akira's limbs, propping him up against one of his forearms while the other hooks under his knees.]
Just stay relaxed against me... up we go.
[It's a good thing Akira's such a string bean. Solomon isn't a physical man, and not one who would be able to do this sort of work for a long period of time. But to princess carry an unwell soul to the comfort of their bed? That wouldn't be a problem in the slightest.
Akira is held tightly against him as he steps his way through the mess on the floor. There is probably still commotion from the gunshot but, eh, he's got other things to do.]
If you need to sleep, then sleep. Save your strength.
[He squeezes Akira's shoulder to emphasize it. God, but he's still so cold...]
[Asking him to stay limp in his arms is not a big ask by any means. Akira's cheek finds Solomon's chest, and body heat that would normally be negligible through layers of clothing is pleasantly warm now. Maybe he lost too much blood. Too much iron. Maybe there's another issue entirely, but regardless of the cause, Akira doesn't feel that he's in any immediate danger. A warm bed and a long nap will fix him right up, surely.
Surely.
His eyelids hang heavy and his fingers angle into Solomon's shirt. At the suggestion that Solomon go wake the Sage, Akira fervently shakes his head.]
I'm fine... really. Just tired and a little cold.
[Akira troubles his lip. There are other reasons why he doesn't want Solomon to leave, the fear of being alone among them. He's already asked him for too much, but—]
Can you stay for a while...? I want to be sure whatever that thing was doesn't come back.
[It's not a request he was expecting - Akira seems like such a headstrong sort. But he can't deny that sticking by Akira would settle his own heart, even if nothing did end up happening.
He lowers himself first onto the mess that is Akira's Bed Probably, letting Akira slide onto his lap, and then onto the mattress. Solomon lifts a hand to brush the remains of cold sweat from Akira's temples, a gentle rustling of his dark bangs as he placed the back of his hand to Akira's forehead. Just as cold as the rest of him, even at the mark...]
[Believe him, he doesn't want to ask for this either. But he feels vulnerable, volatile, and the last thing he wants to do in his current condition is risk losing control in a space where no one is around to subdue him. He meant it when he asked Solomon to kill him. Should he ever spiral out of control, he is the one person Akira can count on to put the good of the many over the life of one. Harsh as it is, cruel as it is, Solomon can handle it.
Akira's bed, at least, was left unaffected by Hurricane Kurusu. Sinking down onto the mattress, Akira curls up loosely on his side and closes his eyes.]
You can take them. That dagger is my focus, but I won't be doing any magic for a while.
[Not until he's certain that he's recovered. Solomon might also find the ring he'd given to Akira settled beside his dagger. The metal now glows a vibrant and ethereal blue, warm to the touch. He's been taking Solomon's challenge seriously.]
I remember. You showed this to me when we first met. Something about it being better than a crusty old wand?
[He won't lord that little foot-in-mouth over Akira for very long, but if Akira is too weary for the banter, then Solomon will have to take up the mantle.
The gun is first priority, Solomon carefully scooping it up from the floor and checking the barrel first to make sure it's empty. Then, to the desk, for the dagger and--
-- oh.
Well, would you look at that.
He doesn't fiddle with the ring just yet - that is Akira's project, after all, and he's not about to interrupt it if it's still in progress - but he does turn to look at the younger man over his shoulder, a whisper of an actual good impression in how deep he seems to be charmed by the initiative.]
Ah... Right. Crusty. I'd still wrap my hand around it.
[Just saying. He's sorry if you're embarrassed over your crusty old wand, Solomon. Someone out there will love it and treat it well, he's sure, because some people are into old wands. Akira would know!
Akira's gun is empty and has always been empty. It's an airsoft gun upon closer inspection, perfectly incapable of killing anyone unless loaded with magic bullets, which... well, Solomon just saw for himself what Akira's magic bullets are capable of. Better keep a sharp eye on this twink as his magic develops.
Akira sits himself up just enough to peek at Solomon over his shoulder.]
Mhmm. That's the one. That's what I meant to show you earlier.
[He already tested the thing on Kurapika and no one's fingers blew up. Solomon better be proud of him.]
Now now, that was your description. I take very good care of my wand, thank you. It's important to know what you own that's precious enough to handle with care.
[Don't hit him with that entendre, buddy, he shoots the shit with the Avatar of Lust and you will not survive.
He crosses to the window momentarily, summoning his broom as he unlatches the panes.]
I take it you're finished with it, then. Would you like me to take a closer look when I get back?
[Would the Avatar of Lust happen to be single? Pass his number along to him if you would, Solomon. Be a bro.
Ah, but... wait. Solomon's leaving the room? A cold chill shoots up Akira's spine, apprehension making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, but... it's fine. He's fine. Who is he, some coward who can't stand to be alone for five minutes? This isn't like him at all and it fucking sucks.
Akira manages a nod.]
It's ready. Give it a try when you come back.
[Please come back. He's cold and possessed and ain't too proud to beg.]
[Sorry dude, Asmo is just married to himself at this point, you have no shot.
It might look strange, Solomon hopping on his broom without the starry coat billowing behind him - he looks slightly more modern than magical this way, turtleneck and slacks and well-polished dress shoes. But he crosses his ankles, leaning down just enough to judge his clearance.]
Just two floors up, two windows over. I'll be right back.
[Akira still has Solomon's coat wrapped around him, after all... and, with some rummaging, may even find his wand (actual)(stop that) still tucked into the dark inner panelling.]
[Tucked under Solomon's coat, Akira manages a thin smile. Just two floors up and two windows over. That's not far at all. He can manage the wait, pulling Solomon's coat tight to his frame and giving a nod.]
Alright. Don't move too fast and bust a hip.
[See? He's bantering. That means he's fine, just fine. While he waits for Solomon's return, Akira doesn't dare close his eyes. His eyelids threaten to sink like lead, but he refuses to succumb and leave himself vulnerable in his current state. It won't take long. I can trust Solomon. And Akira does, unsurprisingly, find Solomon's wand, finding comfort in simply folding his fingers around it. No unnecessary fondling of the other man's wand.]
[With the windows left open, Akira will be able to notice the sounds - Solomon is able to open his windows two stories up from the outside, the clack of his dress shoes subtle on the far windowsill before he disappears. Are those windows always unlocked, perhaps?
It's only a couple minutes, enough to find a decent enough hiding spot for the weapons and place a charm over it. The windows above close, and Solomon is at Akira's windowsill, broom dissipating before his feet even touch the ground. He's getting the hang of this thing.
He casts a glance to Akira as he re-latches the window and draws the curtains.]
Are you still with me, or should I start looking for another coat?
[Relief sweeps over him when Solomon reenters the room. He wasn't gone long at all, but this restless feeling within him won't cease. It's allayed only by Solomon's presence, by knowing he won't be left alone with this creeping, uneasy feeling swirling in his heart.
Akira peeks up from the collar of the coat, face hidden in its warmth from the cheeks down.]
[He chuckles again at that, kicking his shoes off to pad against the floor a little quieter. No making any more noise in here than is necessary with all the commotion.]
That sounds more like the Akira I remember. Unfortunately, I cannot carry you quite that long. I think my arms might give out.
[It crosses his mind briefly, just briefly, that Tatara should probably be woken up about this. But to leave him alone...
...
Well. Maybe it wouldn't need to come to that right now.
He crosses to the desk to grab the ring, looking it over closely as he rejoins Akira on the bed, sitting carefully against the mattress.]
Would you like to explain it, or shall I see for myself?
[ The sudden appearance of a hole in his floor naturally meant Day had to go check it. Akira's patch job keeps a lot of things inside his room, which is arguably a blessing, but Day manages to hear Solomon's voice. There are some things magic can't keep in entirely, it seems.
...Day senses that investigating downstairs now would be inopportune, in the way someone so intrinsically tied to fate knows everything has a time and place, but he'll remember this. (What the fuck is going on down there.) ]
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done
Christ. Akira will need to apologize for that later, but after shouting a half-assed sorry, Akira temporarily stuffs up that hole with magic and stumbles back, falling to his knees. He'll fix that hole for real later, prommie.]
...Whew.
[Maybe that was what he needed. The heavy fog that had settled over him all day seems to have lifted, the oppressive weight on his shoulders gone. Is that it? Did the collective shock of getting zapped and throwing Day into a panic chase whatever spirit is possessing him out? Akira can only hope.]
Hey. Just... hold onto that gun for now, okay? Just in case.
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Akira will be shoved backwards with a knee to the chin, prone onto his back. Another sharp incantation has Solomon's magic stirring under the press of the floor, hot and dark and aimless - an attempt at drawing a seal that he still can't quite manage, but that bubbles up from him on reflex alone under a cold, icy chant, under eyes that sharpen with an almost arrogant stature - a look so cross, so unwilling to be challenged, that he looks almost inhuman.]
"Hear me, denizens of darkness, you who are born of shadow and you who give birth to it. Hear me and do as I command! May the shackles of unwanted hold within the person before me be eliminated. May they come forward and show their name plainly.
Heed me, lest I bind thee, and rob thee of thy freedom."
[It's a tugging, like someone trying to grab into the realm of the unreal and yank something forcefully to the surface by the roots. But it's a spell demanding power that Solomon no longer has within his disposal, and though he's sweating with the effort, nothing emerges.
Get away. Know your place. He will not be threatened like this. Never by them.]
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Arrested by the look in Solomon's eyes, Akira remains frozen in place where he's ragdolled on the floor. What is this taste on his tongue...? Akira smacks his lips once, twice. Demons? Is this what demons taste like? And for that matter, why is he tasting anything at all while Solomon is working his black magic on him? He feels chills run up and down his spine, fire and brimstone crackling in his sinuses. Can we be certain Solomon isn't a demon himself?]
Uh...
[Solomon is so cool, but Akira doesn't have the heart to tell him that he feels no different now than he did before he was rudely kicked in the face and knocked to the floor. He just feels sore.]
Amen. Can I get up now?
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His nod is shallow as he holds a hand out to help him up, hesitant in letting his relief show through.]
Here. Let me see your face for a moment.
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[Akira asks warily, but he takes Solomon's hand without hesitation. He's wobbly on the way up, bracing himself on Solomon's forearms.]
Hey. Before you say anything, I'm sorry. [He'll be even more sorry when he realizes just how many floors that magic bullet passed through.] I... really don't know what came over me.
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You don't need to apologize.
Hold still for a minute.
[One of Akira's hands is moved up to Solomon's shoulder, if he needs it, so that the sorcerer can cup his fingers against Akira's chin and throat with a whisper. It's not potent healing, especially after how much effort he just poured out of himself for something that didn't even work. But it should, at least, dull the pain.]
...How much do you remember?
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Everything, as far as I can tell. We were taken to the castle to do a little ghostbusting. In the final stretch, I started feeling weird... like a blizzard swept straight through me.
[He still doesn't feel quite right, but Akira leaves that detail out. He's worried Solomon enough as it is.]
Maybe something attached itself to me at that time. I don't know.
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[The commotion from various parts of the house is starting to echo, but Solomon pays it only a glance of attention. Akira will feel Solomon's magic stretch out again from the pit of his neck into the depths of his chest - looking, just as it did before, and still unable to see a change. Was it there? Was it gone? It tenses his jaw with frustration, to have so little control here in the realm of what he knows.]
If it's still here... it's not somewhere I can sense.
...
[God, but his skin's so frigid... Shaking his head in an attempt to clear his irritation, Solomon shrugs off his jacket to throw it over Akira's shoulders, blowing on his own palms before cupping them against Akira's face more intentionally.]
I'll hold onto your gun. Do you have any other weapons on you?
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...I can't sense it either. Maybe that's a good sign.
[He can only hope.
Solomon's warmth feels nice against his skin. He closes his eyes to soak it in, to imagine locking that heat within himself in the hopes it won't ever leave. Maybe it'd chase this damn chill off. Maybe all he needs is to submerge himself in warmth long enough for the feeling to pass.
No sooner does Akira think that that his legs give out from beneath him, the strain on his body following a challenging mission finally catching up to him. He's tired, so very tired.]
...Sorry. My dagger... My dagger's on my desk. That's— all the weapons I have.
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Easy, easy does it-- Have my dancing lessons finally caught up to your legs? Maybe I should apologize to you instead. [It's a silly aside, but he lets it have its place, looking over towards Akira's desk long enough to note where he needs to make sure to check before he leaves.]
Let's get you somewhere a little less cold than the floor. [He repositions his arms, before pausing and thinking further on it.] ...May I pick you up?
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[Aside from the obvious, what is wrong with him? Strength hemorrhages from Akira's body and he's left to the mercy of Solomon's arms, that dreadful cold licking at his limbs and creeping up his spine. It's hard to remember the last time he felt this pathetic, this weak. It was probably when he'd gotten arrested, left to sit alone in a holding cell with nothing but his own racing thoughts.
At least now he has someone to lean on, but he feels guilty putting this much of a burden on Solomon. A bit reluctantly, Akira answers.]
...Yeah. Go ahead.
[Sorry, Solomon. He'll make this up to you somehow.]
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With careful hands, Solomon adjusts Akira's limbs, propping him up against one of his forearms while the other hooks under his knees.]
Just stay relaxed against me... up we go.
[It's a good thing Akira's such a string bean. Solomon isn't a physical man, and not one who would be able to do this sort of work for a long period of time. But to princess carry an unwell soul to the comfort of their bed? That wouldn't be a problem in the slightest.
Akira is held tightly against him as he steps his way through the mess on the floor. There is probably still commotion from the gunshot but, eh, he's got other things to do.]
If you need to sleep, then sleep. Save your strength.
[He squeezes Akira's shoulder to emphasize it. God, but he's still so cold...]
You're sure you're okay? I can go wake the Sage.
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Surely.
His eyelids hang heavy and his fingers angle into Solomon's shirt. At the suggestion that Solomon go wake the Sage, Akira fervently shakes his head.]
I'm fine... really. Just tired and a little cold.
[Akira troubles his lip. There are other reasons why he doesn't want Solomon to leave, the fear of being alone among them. He's already asked him for too much, but—]
Can you stay for a while...? I want to be sure whatever that thing was doesn't come back.
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Of course I can.
[It's not a request he was expecting - Akira seems like such a headstrong sort. But he can't deny that sticking by Akira would settle his own heart, even if nothing did end up happening.
He lowers himself first onto the mess that is Akira's Bed Probably, letting Akira slide onto his lap, and then onto the mattress. Solomon lifts a hand to brush the remains of cold sweat from Akira's temples, a gentle rustling of his dark bangs as he placed the back of his hand to Akira's forehead. Just as cold as the rest of him, even at the mark...]
Give me a moment to relocate your weapons. Okay?
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Akira's bed, at least, was left unaffected by Hurricane Kurusu. Sinking down onto the mattress, Akira curls up loosely on his side and closes his eyes.]
You can take them. That dagger is my focus, but I won't be doing any magic for a while.
[Not until he's certain that he's recovered. Solomon might also find the ring he'd given to Akira settled beside his dagger. The metal now glows a vibrant and ethereal blue, warm to the touch. He's been taking Solomon's challenge seriously.]
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[He won't lord that little foot-in-mouth over Akira for very long, but if Akira is too weary for the banter, then Solomon will have to take up the mantle.
The gun is first priority, Solomon carefully scooping it up from the floor and checking the barrel first to make sure it's empty. Then, to the desk, for the dagger and--
-- oh.
Well, would you look at that.
He doesn't fiddle with the ring just yet - that is Akira's project, after all, and he's not about to interrupt it if it's still in progress - but he does turn to look at the younger man over his shoulder, a whisper of an actual good impression in how deep he seems to be charmed by the initiative.]
Is this the one I gave you?
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[Just saying. He's sorry if you're embarrassed over your crusty old wand, Solomon. Someone out there will love it and treat it well, he's sure, because some people are into old wands. Akira would know!
Akira's gun is empty and has always been empty. It's an airsoft gun upon closer inspection, perfectly incapable of killing anyone unless loaded with magic bullets, which... well, Solomon just saw for himself what Akira's magic bullets are capable of. Better keep a sharp eye on this twink as his magic develops.
Akira sits himself up just enough to peek at Solomon over his shoulder.]
Mhmm. That's the one. That's what I meant to show you earlier.
[He already tested the thing on Kurapika and no one's fingers blew up. Solomon better be proud of him.]
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Now now, that was your description. I take very good care of my wand, thank you. It's important to know what you own that's precious enough to handle with care.
[Don't hit him with that entendre, buddy, he shoots the shit with the Avatar of Lust and you will not survive.
He crosses to the window momentarily, summoning his broom as he unlatches the panes.]
I take it you're finished with it, then. Would you like me to take a closer look when I get back?
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Ah, but... wait. Solomon's leaving the room? A cold chill shoots up Akira's spine, apprehension making the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end, but... it's fine. He's fine. Who is he, some coward who can't stand to be alone for five minutes? This isn't like him at all and it fucking sucks.
Akira manages a nod.]
It's ready. Give it a try when you come back.
[Please come back. He's cold and possessed and ain't too proud to beg.]
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It might look strange, Solomon hopping on his broom without the starry coat billowing behind him - he looks slightly more modern than magical this way, turtleneck and slacks and well-polished dress shoes. But he crosses his ankles, leaning down just enough to judge his clearance.]
Just two floors up, two windows over. I'll be right back.
[Akira still has Solomon's coat wrapped around him, after all... and, with some rummaging, may even find his wand (actual)(stop that) still tucked into the dark inner panelling.]
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Alright. Don't move too fast and bust a hip.
[See? He's bantering. That means he's fine, just fine. While he waits for Solomon's return, Akira doesn't dare close his eyes. His eyelids threaten to sink like lead, but he refuses to succumb and leave himself vulnerable in his current state. It won't take long. I can trust Solomon. And Akira does, unsurprisingly, find Solomon's wand, finding comfort in simply folding his fingers around it. No unnecessary fondling of the other man's wand.]
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It's only a couple minutes, enough to find a decent enough hiding spot for the weapons and place a charm over it. The windows above close, and Solomon is at Akira's windowsill, broom dissipating before his feet even touch the ground. He's getting the hang of this thing.
He casts a glance to Akira as he re-latches the window and draws the curtains.]
Are you still with me, or should I start looking for another coat?
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Akira peeks up from the collar of the coat, face hidden in its warmth from the cheeks down.]
You know... You're a lot warmer than your coat.
[Just saying.]
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That sounds more like the Akira I remember. Unfortunately, I cannot carry you quite that long. I think my arms might give out.
[It crosses his mind briefly, just briefly, that Tatara should probably be woken up about this. But to leave him alone...
...
Well. Maybe it wouldn't need to come to that right now.
He crosses to the desk to grab the ring, looking it over closely as he rejoins Akira on the bed, sitting carefully against the mattress.]
Would you like to explain it, or shall I see for myself?
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...Day senses that investigating downstairs now would be inopportune, in the way someone so intrinsically tied to fate knows everything has a time and place, but he'll remember this. (What the fuck is going on down there.) ]