[ God.

It's the first time someone's finally said it. He's wanted to hear it for so long, but now that someone has finally had the mercy to say the words, it feels like a suckerpunch to the chest. Like the end of the world. Like what he deserves.

Sometimes you do.

Thank god.

It hurts.

Akira's got both hands on Isaac's shoulders and it makes him feel like he can't back away. And Akira's taller than he is, a lot taller, feels like an adult but isn't actually, feels so much older and wiser and

more

in control

than isaac

ever could be

And he wants to break into pieces. He's been scared since the moment he got here and all that terror, untreated, roiling beneath his skin, pours out of him now. The tears spill over and he can't really hide. ]

I was supposed to. After-- after Dim. Dimitri.

[ Ah. ]

And then-- and then Mr. Spender, I-- it wasn't supposed to be so much, I try to control it every time and it was only supposed to be a little bit and--

Why can't I ever be better? I try, I really keep trying, I try so hard and all I ever do is-- is hurt them. The, the club, and now Mr. Spender is paying for my mistakes, and I don't--

If I hurt him I don't think I can fix it...! It's like I don't know how to--

I understand! I understand that I can't...! I can't be better! I know it! Or I wouldn't keep doing this!