[It's when Shindou butts his head against Akira's hand that Akira's hand actually retreats. It's in the interest of self-preservation. He has to push his own hair away from his forehead, because he's so hot, he'll become weak as a candle. He's soft and softer by the second, his own wick melting him down, feeling spread out against the tabletop. A moment more, and his face is buried in both hands when he moans a little bit. It's a flimsy sound, about equally pleasured and agonized, muffled by his palms. His voice is muffled, too:] God, I was so mad. I felt so mad. I was so mad, I think... [He was mad, wasn't he? Or was it the shame of being spurned that squashed him so awfully? He shakes his head, which just makes him dizzy, before parting his fingers to peek through.] You lost it, such an idiot, like such an idiot, so I gave you another one, and you never said anything about it after... I thought you didn't read it. Or that you hated it. I thought you didn't want it at all. [Only tonight's alcohol keeps him from shrill fury. Instead, his voice is a continuous toll of mourning.] I never know what... if do you want, or if you don't want...
[He's still peeking, as if suspicious, or maybe kind of afraid. Shindou could easily leap up, start laughing, and say he couldn't believe Akira fell for this. No, he wouldn't do that. But he could, if he wanted to. Or he could turn his face away and stop talking, or he could leave Akira's house and go to his own and just not ever come out. Or...
Akira's hands fall slowly away from his face. The best thing would be for Shindou to want to stay here.]
I wanted to ask you... ever since you said it. I wanted to ask you, I was thinking about asking you, but I didn't. So I, what it is, is, Shindou, because, you told me I looked beautiful, and I wanted to know what part of me made you think that. If I know what part, I'll make sure it always looks that way, and, too, I would make you lots of copies of my kifu, if you liked having them, if it feels better to do, right on it... [He's so tired. Akira is so tired, but he doesn't want to go to sleep now that he might be able to hear all of these answers. Now that he's able to ask all these questions in the first place. He's squinting through his sleepiness, but his eyes are no less bright for it, no less determined to cultivate a win.] You should have told me, because when I gave it to you, I wanted you to be alone with it. I wanted you to think about what I was saying to you. You told me you could tell what I was feeling, when you looked at how I played, so I wanted to make you think about it.
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[He's still peeking, as if suspicious, or maybe kind of afraid. Shindou could easily leap up, start laughing, and say he couldn't believe Akira fell for this. No, he wouldn't do that. But he could, if he wanted to. Or he could turn his face away and stop talking, or he could leave Akira's house and go to his own and just not ever come out. Or...
Akira's hands fall slowly away from his face. The best thing would be for Shindou to want to stay here.]
I wanted to ask you... ever since you said it. I wanted to ask you, I was thinking about asking you, but I didn't. So I, what it is, is, Shindou, because, you told me I looked beautiful, and I wanted to know what part of me made you think that. If I know what part, I'll make sure it always looks that way, and, too, I would make you lots of copies of my kifu, if you liked having them, if it feels better to do, right on it... [He's so tired. Akira is so tired, but he doesn't want to go to sleep now that he might be able to hear all of these answers. Now that he's able to ask all these questions in the first place. He's squinting through his sleepiness, but his eyes are no less bright for it, no less determined to cultivate a win.] You should have told me, because when I gave it to you, I wanted you to be alone with it. I wanted you to think about what I was saying to you. You told me you could tell what I was feeling, when you looked at how I played, so I wanted to make you think about it.