For a moment, they forget about the cold air around their mouth, the lack of weight on the bridge of their nose and the tightness of the straps on their face. They forget the soft ‘clink’ their mask makes against their armor when they move.
They can see it, they can see the pure panic building in his body language. Their expression turns stony, eyes wide as they immediately come closer. They don’t blink, they don’t see Krory for a moment. They see a scared child in his place, and they knew that feeling far too personally. A clawed hand reaches out, grabbing his uninjured arm and beginning to drag him off behind them.
Static, that’s all they hear, pure static ringing out in their ears. They’re walking so fast, and they want to cry. There’s an overwhelming shame growing in their belly, hand trembling as it holds onto him. They feel sick, which only causes them to walk faster. They can see people look at them from their peripheral vision.
Stop it. Stop looking at me, stop stop stop stop stop stop stop! I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I’ll put it back on! Don’t hit me again [ ——— ] !! Please don’t hurt me again!! Please, oh god please, I’m sorry! It’s my fault, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, please don’t hurt me anymore–
They don’t come out of it until they’re pushing Krory into the depths of their bedroom, hyperventilating. They quickly slam their door shut behind them, shaking hands locking it finally. Their knees give out as a scared sob comes from deep in their chest. Claws dig deep into the wood as they grip onto it, anything, trying to ground themself again. A cold sweat of fear covering their body, they’re going to be sick. A sob interrupted by a dry heave. They don’t have anything left in their stomach, not after being so sick earlier in the day.
Angel’s remix deactivates completely, falling from around their neck, clattering as it bounces off their leg, rolling away from them as they claw at the door. Deep gouges are visible, only from the inside of the bedroom, showing just how much they end up right in that very spot.
[ iii. ] THE WALK FROM THE TRAINING AREA to their bedroom happens in a blur, as if he’s not really taking in his surroundings, yet all too aware of what’s happening--- they’re dragging him in their wake, bringing him somewhere, anywhere, everywhere, and it is both a sentence of death and a relief to not be the center of attention anymore. He doesn’t recall why they seem so hellbent on pulling him along, and he remembers in too vivid details the taunting, provoking their wrath, scratching at raw nerves, the mocking tone of his voice, his condescending attitude, a behavior that doesn’t fit him, that only ever matched his own ideal, but not his actual person. There’s a hiss of pain that rises from his chest when he staggers in the room, stumbling as far from the door as he can ( stupid, where’s his escape plan now, he never had any to begin with ), stumbling more than turning on his heels to press his back against the wall.
HIS arm hurts, he realizes. Not that he did not know, really, but the pain is back in a sudden, blinding and overwhelming, and he slides down the wall to sit on the floor, his good hand going to press against the wound. It’s still bleeding, Krory notes in mock horror and shocked fascination.
THEY bit him only after the effects of his Innocence had started to wear off. Had they went for that attack first of all things, the wound would be healed by now, but it’s not, there’s still blood pouring from the jagged holes their teeth left in his flesh, and he wonders if an Akuma feels the same off disbelief and denial he does, when he grabs one to bleed it dry. Being bitten as a direct threat to life is quite unexpected, if not downright somewhat sickening, and there’s a disgust that paints itself on his features as he finally looks up to whatever Miku’s doing.
CAREFULLY keeping his arm as close to his body as possible, Krory can only crawl on all threes to get to them, knowing fully well he’s risking a solid punch, a kick, hell, even to be headbutted in the nose, but he still reaches out to grab one of their hands, pulling at it with all the strength he can muster--- that hasn’t left him entirely with the Innocence abandoning its job at weaponizing him.
“ Miku. Miku. Did you drink it ? “
THAT’S all that matters all of a sudden, even before taking care of his own injury, of their panic, of whatever happened and anything he said that he now deeply regrets. Have they drank his blood ? Did they spit it all out or not ?
DID they just swallow Innocence and Akuma bloodoil in one swift gulp ?
