[Day 7, daytime: Ichigo]

[Akira makes the rounds. he's quiet, but he holds his head as high as he can, keeps his exhaustion off of his features while he serves Dazai his daily glass of port wine, makes hot cocoa for Ichigo, tries to comfort dragon Corrin outside of Niles's room, pays respects to Niles's shrine, and converses with Will. he snaps a few times, loses grasp of his tightly controlled anger as it breaks through the surface and rears its head for a select few. but every time, he pulls it back again. reminds himself that anger is a double-edged sword, and he shouldn't wield it so recklessly as to hurt the people who don't deserve it]

[at least, until he's alone]

[Akira isn't a violent person. it may be the former assault on his record, but he doesn't like lashing out with reckless punches or kicks. but while meandering through what he believes to be an empty hallway near the dormitory wing as he heads back to his room. . . he suddenly stops. tilts his head back, eyes shut tight, brows furrowed]

[and then he moves to slam his fist against the wall. hard]

Shit--

[he hisses that word under his breath, mostly to himself. because as far as he's concerned? he's alone here. and if he's alone, then he can maybe let the weight of what just happened bear down on him a little more than he would have otherwise]