Tohru shoves with both hands, with all her weight, with fingernails scraping over cloth, but Akito barely stumbles. She seems more shocked at her own action than anyone. Her eyes are down, contrite, and her whole body trembles as she stutters out her excuses.
Akito smiles.
How pathetic. How very small and weak and plain this creature is. To think she had ever worried about her threatening their happiness.
Tohru Honda is nothing, beneath notice or concern. Soon they will all return to Akito, and she will have her endless banquet.
She rubs at her shoulder as she turns away.
Tohru's smile is unyielding beneath the bruising and bandages. Bright. Strong.
She stretches out her hand, and Akito doesn't know what to do. Her whole body is shaking, her eyes down, her fingers tangled wretchedly in the hem of her shirt. Slowly, she pries them loose and reaches out.
The hand is warm and soft and steady enough to still Akito's trembling, if only for the moment. She grips tight and closes her eyes, and a little of her fear drifts away.
It is an ending, she knows, but for once she dares to hope for a beginning as well.