You emerged from that door, hands trembling slightly, face bearing a faint ache. His impact wasn't severe, yet his ability to conceal it in front of all was evident. Just departed Mori's office, nearly faltering on a mission, skirting the abyss many face.

Exiting the room, the boy stood against the wall, waiting inexplicably. His hand hovered over his mouth as he coughed softly, eyes lifting to meet yours.

Silence lingered, a man veiled in enigma's cloak, divulging scant fragments, even of those held close. Akutagawa persisted, an unsolved riddle... to you.

Yet, he drew nearer, a ballet of graceful steps toward your being. His unoccupied hand, veering from the one touched by ailment, tenderly graced your head, taming the disheveled tresses wrought by Mori's tempest.

"Mmm..." a mere whisper, a fragment of sound escaping him, as he persisted in the gentle stroke of your locks, amidst a symphony of unspoken pain and profound longing.