@gloryseized — continued from here
🌤 — The curl of Akechi’s lip dulls only slightly, falling to rest in a scowl rather than the snarl it had been before. His eyes dart along Akira’s body, and though the rest of him seems dull, monotone— the red of his blood stands out. A striking crimson pulls the matching Red of Akechi’s eyes to its source. The bullet wound is there— but of course, of all people to withstand a gunshot to the brain, it would be Akira. Akechi wants to shoot him again. He keeps the gun trained on him, staring down that slow-spreading red spot as though it now served as a bullseye. His finger hovers over the trigger— a threat that should Akira move, he would pull again. He would unload every last bullet into him if he had to— anything to finally earn the satisfaction of being the one to bring justice to the Phantom Thieves leader.
🌤 — ❝ Right . ❞ It’s a bitter agreement. A disdainful acknowledgement that Akira is correct.
Humans do nothing but use each other. That much has always been painfully obvious. Even with the two of them— Akechi would say that everything had been deliberate like that. They had been useful to each other, and nothing more. Managing to push each other to where they needed— a mutual control that makes him want to win. To be the only one with control in the end. He hates to have ever had to allow himself to be used. Hates Akira. Hates all of it.
🌤 — ❝ Of course you understand . The noble leader of the Phantom Thieves , nothing but a pawn himself , disguised as a king . ❞
A pawn to the rich and powerful, the same as Akechi. A pawn to those around him. The Phantoms— the world— revolves around Akira, because of what he does for them. Because he’s of use. That’s all people care about. And yet, somehow, despite it all. Despite his knowledge of that fact. Akira remains so…
🌤 — A bitter laugh escapes Akechi’s throat without permission. Escalates, however briefly, into something almost manic— his free hand coming to rest on his forehead as he shakes his head. It’s ridiculous. Akira understands— yet he’s so. Different. His life had been put into shambles— he had been shot— yet here he sits.
🌤 — ❝ God , shut up . I don’t want your empathy . ❞
He wants nothing from Akira. He wants everything.
