[ The city settles back into its usual pace, and the rest of them their daily routine. When Akira isn't working, he trains, and when he isn't training, he cooks for the house. Even the Institute soon resumes its typical bustle, everyone keeping busy and too obsessed with their own projects and deadlines to expend any more energy on old news. The gossip only circulates for so long before it's neglected altogether.
Yusuke's injuries fade, too, however something else seems to linger. It emerges in his artwork—though he may not realize it himself—and in more than one night of restless dreams. (Akira can sense it, something vague but irremovable clotting his chest. He wonders if it's because of the pact as well.)
...He's resolved to intervene, though his best laid plans are easily thwarted by fatigue. He falls asleep at his post, arms folded over the mattress and glasses forgotten to the side, only slowly blinking back into consciousness when he hears his name. ]
...
[ He rolls his head the other way so he can catch a drowsy glimpse of his friend. He doesn't look or sound sorry at all for the intrusion, though he doesn't look very awake, either. ]
no subject
Yusuke's injuries fade, too, however something else seems to linger. It emerges in his artwork—though he may not realize it himself—and in more than one night of restless dreams. (Akira can sense it, something vague but irremovable clotting his chest. He wonders if it's because of the pact as well.)
...He's resolved to intervene, though his best laid plans are easily thwarted by fatigue. He falls asleep at his post, arms folded over the mattress and glasses forgotten to the side, only slowly blinking back into consciousness when he hears his name. ]
...
[ He rolls his head the other way so he can catch a drowsy glimpse of his friend. He doesn't look or sound sorry at all for the intrusion, though he doesn't look very awake, either. ]
Yusuke.