[ His shoulders heave as he breathes heavily, dropping a hand to brace himself against the ground. It was like the sword had split his skull wide open, inviting years and years back in to mingle with the present. The wax figure, the Professor — his father, Asougi Genshin. That was it, that was what he'd been searching for all these months, from the freight ship across the sea to the dark lock up in Scotland Yard, where he only escaped by whispering into Vortex's ear.
His breathing stabilizes a bit and he loosens his grip on his head, drawing that hand down as well. That sword, Karma — that was his. He'd taken it on the ship to England despite the looks from his best friend. That red band — his headband, to remind him of his flaws, that was his, too. And this was— ]
Naru . . . hodou . . .
[ The attorney— no, Naruhodou, he knew him. Best friends, friendly rivals, partners . . . how could he forget? How could that have just been gone like that?
Asougi stares down at his hands for a moment and then closes his eyes, collecting himself carefully. When he speaks again, though his voice is still quite raw, it carries more authority, much like it used to. ]
no subject
His breathing stabilizes a bit and he loosens his grip on his head, drawing that hand down as well. That sword, Karma — that was his. He'd taken it on the ship to England despite the looks from his best friend. That red band — his headband, to remind him of his flaws, that was his, too. And this was— ]
Naru . . . hodou . . .
[ The attorney— no, Naruhodou, he knew him. Best friends, friendly rivals, partners . . . how could he forget? How could that have just been gone like that?
Asougi stares down at his hands for a moment and then closes his eyes, collecting himself carefully. When he speaks again, though his voice is still quite raw, it carries more authority, much like it used to. ]
. . . Naruhodou.