Week 2, Post-trial
[God. That trial was....something. Back at the live house, when he's finished talking to people, he flops down on one of the beds, burying his head in his hands and breathing in and out slowly.
All of this - Junko being a reaper, there being seven goddamn reapers- it's enough to make him want to scream, cry, or do both at the same time.
But he doesn't want to do that, so...He'll just stay like this, for the time being. At least, until someone disturbs him.]
All of this - Junko being a reaper, there being seven goddamn reapers- it's enough to make him want to scream, cry, or do both at the same time.
But he doesn't want to do that, so...He'll just stay like this, for the time being. At least, until someone disturbs him.]

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He almost looks like he wants to say something, but thinks better of it - and eventually just shakes his head.]
...I don't know.
Maybe ask one of the Reapers to take me out instead of someone who actually wanted a second chance.
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Ichigo. . .
[it's only been three weeks, but. . . he had kind of hoped Ichigo would have found his answers by now. does he still really feel that way?]
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[He's silent at that, closing his eyes.]
It's not what you wanted to hear, right? ...Sorry.
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It isn't a matter of what I want to hear or not.
[this isn't about him. it's about Ichigo. this is Ichigo's journey, isn't it?]
In the beginning, I asked you to let me guide you towards your answers. Remember?
I just wish I knew how to help you find them.
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[Maybe there's only pain.]
...
I'm, uh - tired. I think - I'm going to sleep.
[He physically pulls away from Akira, not looking at him.
And pulling away from him emotionally, as well.]
Night, Akira.
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[he reaches out, snagging Ichigo's sleeve with his hand]
Hey.
[he doesn't like forcing people to talk when they don't want to, but. . .?]
I'm here, all right? If you want to keep talking.
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When he looks back, it's so very, very vulnerable. He looks at Akira with wide eyes, a gaze that speaks of a deep, old pain, a tiredness that feels years old, beyond what he's said happened to him.
But then he draws back, shakes his arm out of Akira's grasp, and turns away again, unnerved at how quickly his partner could make his drop his guard like that.
You're slipping, Ichigo.]
I, uh - I don't really...feel much like talking anymore.
[Get away get away get away get away don't get attached]
Maybe later.
Goodnight.
[And like that?
He slips away.]
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[. . .]
[but for a moment-- just. . . just one moment-- there was something in Ichigo's gaze that was different than anything Akira had seen before. something more genuine, but also something a little more worrying]
[. . . what was it?]