akira-sxto:
Location: Roof of Fox Tower Date: October 13 Time: 3:46 p.m. (OPEN)
Akira had gotten back from his drive almost an hour ago and despite knowing he should definitely sleep. Should try to start the healing process. But he didn’t even stop at his room on his way up to the roof. He knew he needed sleep but he also knew that sleep wasn’t about to come either. Between the roiling thoughts in his head and the throbbing of his shoulder and the dark thoughts bouncing in his head there was no way he was going to sleep to night. So, like most Foes, Akira found himself on the roof. It was cold, he could see his breath in the watery moon light as he stood up there, a fair distance from the edge. He didn’t want to get any closer. Not tonight. Tonight wasn’t about facing the heights and staring them down. Akira didn’t think he had that in him tonight.
After a while he sinks to the roof, sitting. It doesn’t do much to help the cold but Akira’s legs are sore from the game and from standing for so long. He tries not to let his mind wander, tries to focus on the game, tearing it apart like he always does after a match. But he gets to the moment he’s shoved into the wall and he spirals. It probably doesn’t help that he hasn’t actually seen what happened in the immediate aftermath of the game. Abby had ushered him away as soon as the doors had opened. Not that he’d been paying much attention to the game once it had gotten into full swing. Not that it had been a good game to watch anyways but Akira refused to let himself focus on that aspect. Instead, he let himself focus on himself. If that was a good or bad thing was a question that had escaped him for hours now.
He felt the hot prickle of tears for the fourth time that evening. Alone on the roof he let himself cry, for just a moment. His parents had always told him it was healthy but he still didn’t do it often. He felt vulnerable, exposed, and it didn’t help that Akira knew exactly what the press would do if they got a picture of him crying. But it felt good and some of the darker thoughts he’d been battling with didn’t feel quite so over powering in a few moments. He hadn’t been at it long when the sound of footsteps startled him. Using his good arm he used his sleeve to wipe at his eyes until the were mostly dry, glad his back was turned mostly to the door.
He wanted to stand up again but he wasn’t sure how to go about doing it. He was loathe to ask for help but he’d rather do that than have them possibly broach the subject of what they’d walked in on him doing. The last thing he wanted was for his teammates to think him weak. God only knows how long they’d been standing there. “I might…need help getting up again…if you don’t, uhm, mind.”
Typically, Logan would be basking in his sense of pride at having held his own against such tough competition, the fact that he had scored at all despite the obstacles and shady gameplay enough to put a pep in his step... but seeing the rest of the team, the absolute dejection and demoralized state that they were in after such a massive defeat, following all the others that had marked the beginning of their season, he couldn’t quite manage it, couldn’t coax any enthusiasm into his being. While he was happy that he managed to prove his prowess - something that had inevitably come to question in his mind after not being able to participate in their last game - Logan was more in the mood to commiserate.
And Akira was a very good start, not only because he may have gotten the brunt of the Ravens’ asshole-ness and then was made to do press duty after, but also because Logan considered him a very good friend, one of his closest, in fact, and he’d been worried from the very moment that Akira had been hit and fell to the floor. Had he been a little more like his old, impetuous self, Logan knew for a fact that he would have jumped right in after Peruggia and gotten in a few hits of his own, red card be damned. But then with so many of them ending up sidelined with injuries and offenses, how could he be so reckless? At the very least he could keep the image of the guy’s busted lips in his head for future gleeful reference.
“You good?”
He didn’t know why he even asked the question... to break the ice, maybe? It was clear what the answer was anyhow, but it did still allow Akira that moment of normality, a chance to let it all tide over so he can compose himself better. “Why, d’you wanna leave already? It’s not like they’re having parties this time around, not like the last game.” As it was, Logan was more than willing to plop himself down next to Akira and just let him sob, play the part of silent support. Or he could help the other up, offering now a hand that the other could choose to take or push away, take him to Denny’s, take him for a joy ride, whatever he needed to feel a little less... like himself right now.
“Last time I had a good cry, I think it was... when the news about my mom came out? It was mostly relief, I guess, cause I’ve been lugging that secret around for so long... or maybe I was sad too, I dunno actually. It was nice though.”













