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Summary
Akutagawa was many things: a man of violence, of dozens of lives taken, of violent reactions and quick deaths. Of a deathly ability, and a deathly sickness plaguing his body. He needed no man to help him. He didn't deserve it.
Why can’t Higuchi just understand that?
EXCERPT:
Akutagawa was lost. Desperately clawing at his throat as he was cut off on both ends by two threats, hyperventilation and phlegm and blood cutting his circulation off. Hunched over, using both of his hands as leverage and instead simply spitting blood onto the cold floor. Cold, cold, cold, everything was so cold. And hot, and painful, the burn in his throat and the dizziness in his head accentuated by his breathlessness.
“Akutagawa-san?” Higuchi tilts her head, eyes widening. Her shoes clicking slowly on cold ground as she approached her boss, slow and cautious to not spark some hostile reaction.