[He's tense. Of course he's tense. He has no idea where he is, has been attacked by his son with a spiked gauntlet, and now there's... the Phantom Thieves leader, kneeling down next to him, too quiet. He looks back at that steely gaze, and it's full of venom. Maybe not quite to the degree that Akechi has, but that isn't a look that wants to help him, at all.
He knows this is what he deserves. He knows far too many people have suffered at his hands, have died at his hands, have crumbled under his reign. And he knows that for the rest of his life, this is a burden he will carry, a tarnish on his soul that he will never erase, no matter how much good he does. Yet for the first time in a long time, he has been reminded of something: of how frighteningly powerless he is, how human he is without his people behind him. He's nothing at all. Worse than trash...
So for a moment there's conflict when the boy tries to move his arm. There is the very visceral part of him that wants to fight back, to defend himself, because he's the only person left who can. There's a flicker of genuine fear in his eyes, and yet—
He relents.
That plastic mask comes right back up, because he doesn't have right to anything else. Well, only for a second, because—]
Augh!
[The pain's so bad that he sees stars for a moment, his other arm shaking in Akira's grasp, breath wavering as he blinks those stars back. Tears spring involuntarily to his eyes, and he has to bite back an unfamiliar sound creeping up in his throat, instead nodding jerkily.]
Y-yes, I know. I'm... I'm sorry. To... all of you. But especially Akechi. But I know my apologies are meaningless. Nothing will ever make up for what I've done.
[He swallows thickly, blinking those tears back. He doesn't remotely have a right to cry, after all. Certainly not in front of three children he's wronged so thoroughly.]
no subject
He knows this is what he deserves. He knows far too many people have suffered at his hands, have died at his hands, have crumbled under his reign. And he knows that for the rest of his life, this is a burden he will carry, a tarnish on his soul that he will never erase, no matter how much good he does. Yet for the first time in a long time, he has been reminded of something: of how frighteningly powerless he is, how human he is without his people behind him. He's nothing at all. Worse than trash...
So for a moment there's conflict when the boy tries to move his arm. There is the very visceral part of him that wants to fight back, to defend himself, because he's the only person left who can. There's a flicker of genuine fear in his eyes, and yet—
He relents.
That plastic mask comes right back up, because he doesn't have right to anything else. Well, only for a second, because—]
Augh!
[The pain's so bad that he sees stars for a moment, his other arm shaking in Akira's grasp, breath wavering as he blinks those stars back. Tears spring involuntarily to his eyes, and he has to bite back an unfamiliar sound creeping up in his throat, instead nodding jerkily.]
Y-yes, I know. I'm... I'm sorry. To... all of you. But especially Akechi. But I know my apologies are meaningless. Nothing will ever make up for what I've done.
[He swallows thickly, blinking those tears back. He doesn't remotely have a right to cry, after all. Certainly not in front of three children he's wronged so thoroughly.]
I'll do my best to stay out of all of your ways.