[that question pulls a breathy laugh from Akira, and he thunks his head back against the fencing. wordlessly, he draws his thumb across his ribs (a reminder of a harsh kick to the stomach, all because he had refused to say anything when the detective questioned him about the security cameras), up the length of his opposite arm (where the bruises are shaped like fingerprints, from every time he was roughly manhandled and thrown across the room), and over his collarbone and face (the only dark splotches that are actually visible, swollen and still raw even though it's been a few days).]
. . . sorry.
[he mumbles contritely once the pain fades enough for him to move again. he doesn't try to play it tough this time as he grabs Minato's shoulder and attempts to stand up again]
I never thought I'd truly understand what a piñata felt like until now.
[STOP MAKING JOKES]
[he has to make jokes, or the anger he feels bubbling in his stomach every time he's reminded of his own condition would boil over, too]
no subject
[that question pulls a breathy laugh from Akira, and he thunks his head back against the fencing. wordlessly, he draws his thumb across his ribs (a reminder of a harsh kick to the stomach, all because he had refused to say anything when the detective questioned him about the security cameras), up the length of his opposite arm (where the bruises are shaped like fingerprints, from every time he was roughly manhandled and thrown across the room), and over his collarbone and face (the only dark splotches that are actually visible, swollen and still raw even though it's been a few days).]
. . . sorry.
[he mumbles contritely once the pain fades enough for him to move again. he doesn't try to play it tough this time as he grabs Minato's shoulder and attempts to stand up again]
I never thought I'd truly understand what a piñata felt like until now.
[STOP MAKING JOKES]
[he has to make jokes, or the anger he feels bubbling in his stomach every time he's reminded of his own condition would boil over, too]