adsum | npc contact.1

npc contact.1

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[ Damn if he’s willing to wipe fly guts off his hands whose to say Akki hasn’t already wiped blood off of them… makes you think.

Akira doesn’t look away from his face. He hates that it’s somehow nostalgic, like looking into the eyes of a friend you haven’t seen for awhile. ]

Can I see your wrists?

[ He probably has. No, he definitely has.

Akira might be good at eye contact, but the moment he asks that question, Akki forgoes it completely and drops his gaze to the ground, but still holds out both hands: loose fists and turned so the inside of his wrists are up, not unlike somebody turning himself in to be handcuffed.

He wears a chevron friendship bracelet around his right wrist, in pasteled primary colors, but the wrist is otherwise smooth and bare.

He wears nothing around his left wrist, but it is covered with old scars and newer ones, some shallow and some deep, some in neat little rows and some haphazardly placed, overlapping, innumerable. ]

[ Well... That was easy. A lot easier than when he tried asking Komaeda anything.

That doesn't stop Akira's expression from twisting just slightly; lips twitching, eyebrows furrowing as his eyes narrow. He wonders if they're similar to the few on his wrist, but it's difficult to compare his three to Akki's... several. ]

We're the same, right? [ That asked, Akira flips his left wrist to expose the three scars. ] And you know me... So where'd these come from?

[ Akki's sleeve gets rolled down over his wrist and that entire hand is shoved into his pocket for double protection as his gaze flits over Akira's shoulder to see that nobody else is watching them. ]

...We're not the same. I don't think so, anyways.

[ Also please put your wrist down. He doesn't touch Akira, but he does sort of gesture with his right hand for him to do so ]

Most of these were just.. me.

Oh. [ That leaves him with more questions; a little more irritated, brows furrowed and staring down at his wrist. A hand drifts upward, fingers brushing up against the lines that have somehow scarred his skin and tapping them idly before he drops his hand entirely.

Anyway, he really did have a guy show his wrist and kinda open up about something depressing without even considering. Oops. ]

... [ A brief pause. He's gotta choose his words carefully -- ] Well lemme see them tomorrow, too, and the day after that. Basically whenever you come to school I wanna see 'em, 'kay?

Wha— You don't have to do that! It's not like I do it every day or- I mean, it's only when I need to, or when I can't... when there's no other choice.

[ It's not a straight out "no," but it's an "oh no," it's an "I don't want Akira to have to check up on me every day" like being monitored like that would force him to stop. Sometimes... the world comes crashing down all around him, and he has no choice. It doesn't have to be his wrist; his wrist is just what's right there. ]

That's not what I mean.

[ Akira's just... doing this. ]

I don't know what you're going through -- that's your own shit. I'm just tryin' to keep track of things with people who aren't like me.

[ ...okay. Alright. Not having to explain anything makes things better, if all he has to do is check in with Akira and that's it. Still makes him nervous, though, being kept tabs on. ]

Who else are you keeping track of?