[ The gauze plasters on easily; Yusuke sets his jaw tight to bite back any complaints as Akira carefully applies the rest of the medicine. It doesn't take long, and he bows his head to let him start winding bandages over his hair, speaking softly in the meantime. ]
It's probably from Mr. Tozier.
[ Clair, at least, had been in better shape. Perhaps her training had made her more solidly built, small but filled with a knightly vigor. On the other hand, Richie probably smoked his weight and his good constitution away years ago. Even his own breaths come out short, lungs choked by smog, which only makes it harder to hold his composure, his head tilted into a dizzy tailspin as soon as he answers. (But maybe it's not just the haze that's done him in—he covers the cuff of his sleeve, seeking a hard dot of blood with his thumb, seeing a nail split on repeat and feeling nauseous for it.)
Regardless, he waits until he's sure he's found his mental footing again before continuing. He sounds melancholic at best, though that's still better than he feels. ]
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It's probably from Mr. Tozier.
[ Clair, at least, had been in better shape. Perhaps her training had made her more solidly built, small but filled with a knightly vigor. On the other hand, Richie probably smoked his weight and his good constitution away years ago. Even his own breaths come out short, lungs choked by smog, which only makes it harder to hold his composure, his head tilted into a dizzy tailspin as soon as he answers. (But maybe it's not just the haze that's done him in—he covers the cuff of his sleeve, seeking a hard dot of blood with his thumb, seeing a nail split on repeat and feeling nauseous for it.)
Regardless, he waits until he's sure he's found his mental footing again before continuing. He sounds melancholic at best, though that's still better than he feels. ]
I didn't make it in time to save him.