In the life of another Kurusu Akira, the word would carry so much weight. It would bring to mind the visage of another, swell his heart with unending affection and yearning for a person who is not with him in this world.
As this Kurusu Akira stands, it only causes him to think of how he has no one in his life that refers to him with that title. Futaba is younger, but she'd never call him that. Zenkichi, in a loose way, but they all know it would be joking. Sophia would be the closest, but it never truly felt like that with her; it's the difference between teacher and mentor. For the latter, he knows the classmates back home will never refer to him as such ever again.
It's something that's been missing. It's something that feels nice. It's a lock he was unaware of clicking open from a key he never sought to find. It's something that Akira himself never even knew that he wanted.
Senpai. He doesn't know how this girl can call him that, powerful as she is. Even if he still had Arséne at his side, he doesn't know if he'd be able to match her might.
But a mentor isn't always someone that's stronger or smarter. Sometimes it's someone that's there for you, even in the ways that you don't know that you needed.
There's possibilities, opportunities, inquiries to be made. Akira has time to find out who she is, and who they are to each other, and he looks forward to finding out what these things will mean for them.
He reaches out and takes her hand.
A terrible pain sears through his left hand.]
Ngh-!
[It's needles, it's nettles - no, it's worse, worse, worse than all of it. He doesn't understand what it is, only that it hurts.
It's like a hot iron placed on the back of his hand.
Why? He wonders if he was wrong. He wonders if he made a mistake. Why? He doesn't understand why it hurts, but-
"Since you are so determined to save others, BB-chan doesn't need to worry at all - huh?"
Those are words he wants to trust in. They aren't the deceiving words that nearly led him to ruin.
Because... not once has she said anything about saving herself.
Because, perhaps in one way, they already have a common ground-
...He's gotten, perhaps, just a little bit over his head... But it's hardly the first time.]
...Likewise. [There's the faintest tremble to his voice, a leftover reminder of the pain. His gaze, however, remains clear and calm.] I'll be in your care.
[A bond is made, upright, amidst a garden of torn apart corpses.]
no subject
In the life of another Kurusu Akira, the word would carry so much weight. It would bring to mind the visage of another, swell his heart with unending affection and yearning for a person who is not with him in this world.
As this Kurusu Akira stands, it only causes him to think of how he has no one in his life that refers to him with that title. Futaba is younger, but she'd never call him that. Zenkichi, in a loose way, but they all know it would be joking. Sophia would be the closest, but it never truly felt like that with her; it's the difference between teacher and mentor. For the latter, he knows the classmates back home will never refer to him as such ever again.
It's something that's been missing. It's something that feels nice. It's a lock he was unaware of clicking open from a key he never sought to find. It's something that Akira himself never even knew that he wanted.
Senpai. He doesn't know how this girl can call him that, powerful as she is. Even if he still had Arséne at his side, he doesn't know if he'd be able to match her might.
But a mentor isn't always someone that's stronger or smarter. Sometimes it's someone that's there for you, even in the ways that you don't know that you needed.
There's possibilities, opportunities, inquiries to be made. Akira has time to find out who she is, and who they are to each other, and he looks forward to finding out what these things will mean for them.
He reaches out and takes her hand.
Ngh-!
[It's needles, it's nettles - no, it's worse, worse, worse than all of it. He doesn't understand what it is, only that it hurts.
Why? He wonders if he was wrong. He wonders if he made a mistake. Why? He doesn't understand why it hurts, but-
Those are words he wants to trust in. They aren't the deceiving words that nearly led him to ruin.
Because... not once has she said anything about saving herself.
Because, perhaps in one way, they already have a common ground-
The pain ceases. Akira looks down at his hand.
In place of familiar clear skin is a stark red mark, a heart sectioned off into three.
...He's gotten, perhaps, just a little bit over his head... But it's hardly the first time.]
...Likewise. [There's the faintest tremble to his voice, a leftover reminder of the pain. His gaze, however, remains clear and calm.] I'll be in your care.
[A bond is made, upright, amidst a garden of torn apart corpses.]