"..."

Akira stares at your left hand—or the absence of it. His vision is blurred by tears. How is he supposed to save the world, and eradicate these demons showing up, when he couldn't even stop himself from attacking you in a frenzy?

"...Does it hurt?"

Regardless of if you reply affirmatively or negatively to that, he just cries more, droplets slipping down his tanned skin. He tackle hugs you to the mattress and weeps, tears cascading down your shoulder, seeping into the covers.

"..."

Akira never changes.