I didn't realize you were such a child. No wonder you were put on leave at your job - who knows how many lives have fallen victim to your pathetic little tantrums?
[Every word choked out - it doesn't matter that he's hacking up the occasional flower during his tirade.
No, it doesn't matter at all.
It would be prudent to walk away. Take a shower. Stand his ground, be the 'bigger' man in this petty fight that Akechi refuses to acknowledge he started-
He's sick. Tired. Irate and at the limit of his patience the second he wakes up every day.]
My apologies. I'm in a bit of a bad mood.
[And the wet sweatshirt he peels off?? Tossed right at Adachi's stupid face.]
[ Akechi may have started it, but Adachi's keeping it going. And now? With a damp, tea-soaked sweatshirt plopped right on him like it's where the thing is meant to be? ]
You're in a bad mood.
[ It's gonna keep going.
The sweatshirt's ripped off and discarded wherever the winds will it as Adachi moves before he considers it all the way through, having to untangle his legs from the cozy warmth of the kotatsu blanket to up and lunge across the table, all pretenses of stretches and spasms dropped entirely. ]
Kid, I haven't even started showing you how bad a tantrum I can throw--!
Adachi is a persona user - this isn't an innocent man provoked to battle. It's one with a strong enough will to back up that claim.
And Akechi has never withdrawn from a challenge. Not willingly. Meets the man head on by pulling himself free of his own cozy blanket heaven, kneeling instead of standing, and goes on the defense. Both arms up, ready to block an attack or push Adachi over if the opening shows itself.]
I welcome the opportunity.
[He already can't breathe - his words a hacking mess. This should go great!!!]
[ Neither of them can breathe--it's honestly a miracle Adachi hasn't broken down into a fit yet with how agitated he's been getting.
He's feeling brave enough, or stupid enough, from it all to try and grab two things at once: one of those arms to try and yank it away, and the other for Akechi's remaining shirt collar. He doesn't even bother going around the kotatsu for it, socked feet up on the table as he continues the lunge--
Ah, there it is. Hack, cough, fuck, he's gotta get over this quick...! ]
[ When someone has their hand on your neck, it rarely matters that they're not squeezing to kill right that second. It could easily be the next. So, instead of being cowed into submission, he keeps the fight reflex going.
At least one arm out of the way, he takes the quickest of moments, only a second--to mockingly cough in Akechi's face before bringing his skull down to smack against the little brat's.
[That fucking hurts - he expected a persona to come out of the woodwork, not this guy's goddamn head.
It aches. Ached already, prior to this frontal assault. The pounding in his skull is 20x worse than it was a second ago - it makes his grip on the neck relinquish and-
Then he doubles down. Readjusts, pushes forward, tries to throw all his weight against Adachi's to get a firm hold on his throat and-
[ Stupid part of a headbutt is that it hurts both parties--you're really counting on it hurting them more than you, and while Magatsu Izanagi's gotten him used to powering through searing pains in his skull it only seems to keep Akechi down for mere seconds.
Fuckfuckfuckfuck this doesn't have to last long before he's out and down for the count, so once again he's just gotta get this little shit to stop.
Not a direct assault this time, just rearranging. With his grip on Akechi's arm and collar, Adachi's going to try and pull-roll to get the brat on his side; on his back would be better, but he'll take what he can get here. ]
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Okay.
Shame he needs to stretch his legs now. Be a damn shame if he accidentally pushes Adachi's outside of the cozy confines of this little kotatsu.]
My apologies.
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He might as well get some stretches in himself, of course starting with the legs and getting them right back where they were.
If they happen to meet Akechi's with a little more force than one would expect, why, that's not a kick or anything. Just another accident! ]
Ah, sorry.
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[That foot that didn't kick him? That friendly accident?
Oh no, Akechi's leg spasms. Oh gosh, he may have kicked Adachi pretty goddamn hard. Maybe it even causes the table to shake. Back off.]
Sorry.
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[ OH NO, speaking of hitting, fuck pretense he's just kicking right back. Quit it, ya little snot...! ]
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[Oh OKAY. They're just doing THIS. He's kicking right the fuck back???
Akechi doesn't feel good - far from it, but this? Helps. A little violence heals more than a pill.]
Perhaps you need to be hospitalized. I would gladly take you.
[T H R E A T. ♥]
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[ Y'know what? Fuck it. A little violence does go a long way in healing the spirit.
The nice tea that had been precariously rocking since this whole immature snit fit started?
Adachi's grabbing and hoisting it in Akechi's direction. Get splashed. ]
1/2
tea.
Dripping from the fringe of his bangs, soaking a mask he abruptly pulls off his face drenching against the front of his sweatshirt.
Adachi, a grown ass man, threw it at him and Akechi, a few months shy of being a grown ass man-]
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[Every word choked out - it doesn't matter that he's hacking up the occasional flower during his tirade.
No, it doesn't matter at all.
It would be prudent to walk away. Take a shower. Stand his ground, be the 'bigger' man in this petty fight that Akechi refuses to acknowledge he started-
He's sick. Tired. Irate and at the limit of his patience the second he wakes up every day.]
My apologies. I'm in a bit of a bad mood.
[And the wet sweatshirt he peels off?? Tossed right at Adachi's stupid face.]
Sorry, muscle spasm.
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You're in a bad mood.
[ It's gonna keep going.
The sweatshirt's ripped off and discarded wherever the winds will it as Adachi moves before he considers it all the way through, having to untangle his legs from the cozy warmth of the kotatsu blanket to up and lunge across the table, all pretenses of stretches and spasms dropped entirely. ]
Kid, I haven't even started showing you how bad a tantrum I can throw--!
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[Because he wants to fight.
Adachi is a persona user - this isn't an innocent man provoked to battle. It's one with a strong enough will to back up that claim.
And Akechi has never withdrawn from a challenge. Not willingly. Meets the man head on by pulling himself free of his own cozy blanket heaven, kneeling instead of standing, and goes on the defense. Both arms up, ready to block an attack or push Adachi over if the opening shows itself.]
I welcome the opportunity.
[He already can't breathe - his words a hacking mess. This should go great!!!]
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He's feeling brave enough, or stupid enough, from it all to try and grab two things at once: one of those arms to try and yank it away, and the other for Akechi's remaining shirt collar. He doesn't even bother going around the kotatsu for it, socked feet up on the table as he continues the lunge--
Ah, there it is. Hack, cough, fuck, he's gotta get over this quick...! ]
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Which is fine. All gucci gold because Akechi goes for Adachi's neck with his one free hand. Can't breathe? It's about to get harder.
If he can get a hold on him, he doesn't grip to harm or kill - he does definitely make a point to squeeze though.]
Look at what a mess you're making.
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At least one arm out of the way, he takes the quickest of moments, only a second--to mockingly cough in Akechi's face before bringing his skull down to smack against the little brat's.
Get bonked. ]
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It aches. Ached already, prior to this frontal assault. The pounding in his skull is 20x worse than it was a second ago - it makes his grip on the neck relinquish and-
Then he doubles down. Readjusts, pushes forward, tries to throw all his weight against Adachi's to get a firm hold on his throat and-
Squeezes with all his little horrible might.]
You stupid-
[Oh, he's mad.]
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Fuckfuckfuckfuck this doesn't have to last long before he's out and down for the count, so once again he's just gotta get this little shit to stop.
Not a direct assault this time, just rearranging. With his grip on Akechi's arm and collar, Adachi's going to try and pull-roll to get the brat on his side; on his back would be better, but he'll take what he can get here. ]