Disclaimer: Not mine

Notes: Spoilers for episode 45


The first night Akira was back, he realized just how much everyone had missed him. Haruka and Momoko wouldn't stop hugging him. Kenta was a little less touchy-feely, thank God, but he kept patting him on the back and even tousled his hair (because apparently Akira had not only survived being possessed, but was now also five years old). Takeru kept going on about how dull and orderly things had been without him, and even Commander Sugata smiled at him once or twice.

Still, it was good to be back.

--

After waking up from his first obligatory nightmare about the whole Unas thing (steel flashing, Igam's voice, Momoko crying), Akira stared at his alarm blearily. It was three in the morning, might as well go back to sleep… except he got out of bed and started heading for the door. Akira wondered if he was possibly still dreaming as he wandered aimlessly down the hallway… until he found himself sneaking into Takeru's room.

Takeru, his right arm wrapped up in gauze.

Kenta, an angry red scar on his leg.

Haruka, her left shoulder bruised and swollen.

Momoko, what was left of a long, thin cut going down her arm.

Because of him.

No, not him, Unas using him-- at least, that's what the others would say, Akira thought darkly as he walked back to his room. Not that it changed anything. His hands, his skill had been used to hurt his friends.

And they'd pretended they were fine, laughing with him like the damn thing hadn't happened at all.

The first night Akira was back he realized just how much everyone had missed him.

The first morning Akira was back he realized just what they had gone through for him.