[ after his enlightening first-hand experience meeting a murderer who wasn't unequivocally terrible, makoto's less prone to faint dead away at the first sign of latent discord. granted, haru isn't here for him to shrink and fluster behind this time, and he's been punctiliously evading him as of late regardless, but it doesn't stop him from hauling himself up with a measured slowness, like moving too fast might warrant him as the next victim of arbitrary violence. blame the environment. he can't even work his way around circumnavigating a game menu, much less a digitized hospital. ]
Deserved it.
[ right. okay, that probably made sense. maybe. it's hard to believe makoto's life has come to point where he has to capitulate to irrational claims made on the pop-fly by guys who meshed better as protagonists b-rated cinema flicks, just that side of portentously feral that he's distinctly avoiding his companion's gaze, instead staring at the man gone slantslide down the hall. he grimaces, equal parts mortified and anxious, as he scrabbles to drag the physician up by the length of his gangly arms, watching the scalpel plummet from one fisted hand with a ringing clink. ]
What did he do to you?
[ he cautiously glances up, only to get his eyes drawn in by the disconcerting collar affixed to his neck with a concern he doesn't bother vocalizing. eventually, makoto heaves him up in one blundering maneuver, glancing about to scope the area for any other possible onlookers. ]
... Well, he's passed out cold now. We can't exactly leave him lying out in the hall like this.
rip ......
Deserved it.
[ right. okay, that probably made sense. maybe. it's hard to believe makoto's life has come to point where he has to capitulate to irrational claims made on the pop-fly by guys who meshed better as protagonists b-rated cinema flicks, just that side of portentously feral that he's distinctly avoiding his companion's gaze, instead staring at the man gone slantslide down the hall. he grimaces, equal parts mortified and anxious, as he scrabbles to drag the physician up by the length of his gangly arms, watching the scalpel plummet from one fisted hand with a ringing clink. ]
What did he do to you?
[ he cautiously glances up, only to get his eyes drawn in by the disconcerting collar affixed to his neck with a concern he doesn't bother vocalizing. eventually, makoto heaves him up in one blundering maneuver, glancing about to scope the area for any other possible onlookers. ]
... Well, he's passed out cold now. We can't exactly leave him lying out in the hall like this.