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[Yeah, he comes up and ... sees a whole screen of waffle about emotions. Huh.]

That's a little advanced for him, isn't it?

Crow says you're keeping Akira-kun awake. Looking at that, I'd have to agree. Come on, hurry it up.

Akira-kun is very intelligent. He had me read the story of Izanagi and Izanami to him, even though it went to some dark places.

[Still, he'll send a goodnight message, frustrating as it is to cut the conversation short-

And then he sees the message from Akira, and it's worrisome.]

Shit. ...You were right. I said too much.

[He hastily types the following message:

Ah.

I'm sorry, Akira-kun. I'm not feeling well and I didn't think and

Please be okay.

Crow, you know I'm typing this. You had better make sure he's okay.

Then he reluctantly hands over his phone.]

...You two really are acting like parents. I should've listened.

Edited 2023-09-23 03:44 (UTC)

[He takes the phone and slips it into his pocket, glimpsing the message as he does. Then he drops into a crouch next to the futon.]

Crow will handle it. [He comes within a centimetre or two of biting out Don't ever call me a parent again, instead. With a little effort, he tries to lighten the mood, just a bit.]

Do you need a bedtime story?

Yes, but--

[Gah! He's grasping his temple again. He messed up. What if Akira's too upset? What if he ruined it? He can't lose anyone. He can't he can't he can't he-

Shoot. No. He needs to stay calm. He needs to... just have some soup. It's a start. He needs to calm down.

He needs-

Bedtime story?]

...I assume that's sarcasm. A joke. ...appreciated, though. Sorry.

[He's being such a pain.]

Edited 2023-09-23 04:07 (UTC)

[Shit. Is he supposed to do something? Can he just say "goodnight", and fuck off?]

Yes, I was joking. [He's also still crouching by the side of the futon, increasingly unnerved.]

Lie down, if your headache's worse. Close your eyes. It will help.

[But he doesn't leave.]

...okay.

[At least he's finished most of the soup. That's good. He'll just...]

Wait. My teeth. I didn't bring-

[Gah. Stupid headache! He whimpers a little. Maybe he should just lie down.

He's thinking too much.]

[Yeah, he wrinkles his nose a little at that himself. But.]

One night won't kill you. You can brush them in the morning. I'll put out a spare toothbrush for you.

[... and, again, he rests a hand on the kid's shoulder. Loki is louder than before, and angrier; it sets up a resonance, and he winces.]

I said, close your eyes. Don't tell me you actually need a bedtime story.

I suppose the morning will be all right...

[He closes his eyes. The supportive touch helps.]

You don't have to, though. I'm... I'm probably thirteen now. Or close.

[He's not a little kid. It's fine. He's fine.

He just wishes it was quieter.]

Ugh. I don't know any stories. I can't believe you're.... [That's a lie. He has most of what he's ever read locked away in his head, if he just thinks on it.

With a deep breath, he calls one to mind, a foreign story he hasn't thought of for years, one he can think about without wanting to vomit. And he starts to recite, with a few modifications.]

"It was terribly cold. Snow was falling, and it was almost dark. In the cold and gloom, a poor little boy was walking through the streets...."

[Part of him wants to protest. It's okay. He doesn't have to do this! It's fine...

Another part calms at the comforting sound of the older Akechi's voice.

He's not a bad person. He cares...

He's safe.

It's okay.

It takes a bit, but soon he drifts off. However silly it was, the story seemed to do the trick, or perhaps it was just the comfort of knowing someone cared.

At least he's not alone, even if he's so far from his family.]

[He sits there for quite a while, in the dark next to the sleeping kid, trying not to think of things that are best not thought of. Eventually, he carries the tray back through to the kitchen, shoves it all into the dishwasher, and runs it with a dozen items like the criminal he is.

When he finally wakes, the sun is high in the sky, and he feels like he's been punched in the gut. A nightmare, probably. Lucky he didn't remember it.

He rolls onto his back, throws his arm above his head, stares at the satin-smooth ceiling. Maybe he should put some stars up there, just for visual interest?]

[The big, bright sun drags the younger of the two Akechis from his deep slumber. He moans, covering his face with a pillow.]

Why's it have to be so bright...?

[He grumbles, irritated. What he'd give to just... kick the sun. Even if it'd burn him to a crisp. Damn it.]

The blinds are shit. [It's true, they're just expanses of linen that roll up and down. He gives in and covers his own eyes.]

How are you feeling?

Too much noise. Wish my head would be quiet...

[But he lazily rises, his hair just a teensy bit frazzled. He drops the pillow in his lap, trying to smooth it over.]

Is this normal?

[He is not moving. He can't remember the last time he was in bed at midday, and his admittedly put-upon spirit of rebellion says he should enjoy it for at least a few moments.]

Can't say. I felt like shit for a week after I awakened, but you haven't awakened.

I suppose maybe if that Shadow had attacked you...? But then you'd be dead.

...So how do I get the awakening over with? It's not like another Shadow appeared.

[His own Shadow says, Well, obviously that's because Loki is everything you already accepted about yourself. That power was always there.]

...My Shadow says the power was always there. That's news to me.

[Okay, yeah, he leans up on his elbow for that.]

Actually, yes, Crow said something like that. That Loki was all the things he believed about himself. [It sounds weird as hell to him, still, but whatever.]

You said Morgana awoke you to Robin Hood, is that right? You had to accept your Shadow?

Correct. My Shadow first appeared to me in a dream, the night I shook hands with the attendant, and he appeared to me during my second visit to the TV world, when Teddie-san showed me a corruption of the central shopping district.

[The talking helps. He visibly relaxes, resting his hands atop the pillow.]

I didn't accept it then, but after a few more encounters with it here, Morgana eventually talked me into accepting it properly, and I gained Robin Hood's power.

Huh. [Actually, now that they come to mention it...] So, in fact, there's a chance you might have awakened prematurely.

[He rubs his eyes, though, and swings out of bed. He's wearing a similar t-shirt and boxers to what he slept in last time.]

I can't do this conversation without coffee. Shit, it's the middle of the day.

...we could probably both use some coffee.

[He pauses.]

I think caffeine helps with headaches? That sounds right. I don't know.

[Plus, they were supposed to eat, weren't they? Hm...]

No, that's true. [Almost, he says you should clean your teeth before anything else. Then he purses his lips, and doesn't, drowsily stalking through to the kitchen instead.

Stupid little brown space rocks into two mugs. Why does he even own two mugs?]

[Very sluggishly, he drags himself out from beneath the rather comfy quilt and stretches.

The good news is, he can stand. Can he walk? Well, he sort of hobbles out into the hall, rubbing his eyes, as he joins his counterpart in the kitchen.]

Well, the good news is, I can walk. The bad news is, I feel like a sack full of bricks.

[He's filling the mugs at the hot water heater. Sorry if you want milk, younger-him, there isn't any. A quick swish with a spoon, and he pushes the first mug along the counter.] Here. The ibuprofen's in the bathroom cupboard.

[Turning around, he leans back against the counter, with his own mug, and takes a long, almost scalding sip. Oh, thank god.]

I said I'd take you to lunch today, didn't I? [Him and his big mouth. With a lot of people he'd hope they forgot, but younger-him won't.]

[He accepts the mug.]

Thank you.

[But, hmm... lunch. That's right. He did mention that, didn't he?]

You did, but if it's too much of a bother, I'd understand. And I still have to deal with...

[Well, the Loki business.]

If you aren't well, it may be better put off to another time. [And it will give him time to think, too. The thought that younger-him might need those answers does occur to him, but he shoves it off.]

I wonder if that's why you awoke to them separately. Because you weren't ready.

[It also occurs to him that if younger-him isn't well, he might not ask such pointed questions. But he shoves that off, too. In fact, he shoves the whole idea off into deep space, with a frown.]

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