//CONT. @kitmitsu
Okay. So it's not, like, his proudest moment. Sue him, he's got a lot of those. Hell, the last two-ish weeks of his life have been entirely comprised of those.
Akira's back to concrete, the woman in front of him is pretty like a new knife straight from the manufacturer. Sharp, deadly, something you kind of want to play with despite knowing so much better. Riku's been nothing short of patient with him, and to tease her any further just feels cruel. Like a knife, too, she's got a point; their meeting wasn't exactly preem, nothing nova about it, and because of him they both have Claws on their asses. It was a bad idea to begin with, going back to Daisuke's right hand to beg some kind of forgiveness or absolvement all these years later. The guy never liked him much, anyway.
The guy never liked him much anyway, and for that reason, this would be the third time Riku has assisted him in evading either near-death or... No, just near-death. Maybe full-on death. Probably full-on death, considering the way it went the first time, getting out only thanks to her with several cuts and a battered ego. Daisuke probably would call him an idiot. Daisuke's probably rolling in his drawer, frankly.
Thankfully, a silenced mouth has never been a problem. Both hands come up to sign, slightly shaky, incredibly animated.
'I got hobbies!' bandaged fingers work quick, optics wide, 'I got plenty of fuckin' hobbies, that's not the problem! Problem is me having pissed off these gonks so bad they won't quit chasing me down! What about their hobbies?! Where's their lecture?!'
...He'd be lying if he said he didn't like the company, deranged as it sounds. Even like this, even being scolded - it's like old times, like living in a warm memory. Riku would've liked Daisuke. Daisuke probably would've really liked her, too.
Mouth closed, audio up. Akira's hearing implants are maxxed, and when those footsteps fade sufficiently, he's quick to rapidly tap on her wrist.
'Suffocating! Lame way to go out, lemme up!'
She does, grip loosening, and Akira heaves a mildly dramatic sigh of relief. It takes on a synthetic tint, even his huff pitch-corrected by chrome.
"Well," he shrugs, halfway poking out of that alley to watch Claws run in circles, "that was fun."
Maybe she's right. Maybe he's got a deathwish bigger than he imagined. "Can I make it up to ya? Good slurp shop nearby. These losers will be chasing their tails for a while - I remember some of 'em. They'll get bored quick, once the 'dorph wears off."