(He's confused. Tsurumaru can feel it and in turn, he only feels amused. A little warm, a little tingly, he curls his fingers in Aki's, feeling cool and hard metal against warm and soft flesh. He won't explain yet, but Aki may feel a wave of nostalgia wash over him. It's a small reprieve from the more twisted and miserable feelings of anxiety.)
I'll look forward to it.
(If their situations were reversed, he would do the same. Carefully cut and peel fruit, keeping his hands busy with something instead of twisting and digging his nails into his palms. But speaking of, he brushes his fingers against Aki's palm, gentle and careful not to damage himself. He wonders if Aki can feel it.)
Do you remember the first time you gave me your hand?
(Almost exactly a year ago after a miserable battle in Tokyo's bay? Drenched and agitated because of the sea water, soaking wet in a different infirmary.
He keeps his voice soft, quiet so only Aki can hear,)
no subject
I'll look forward to it.
(If their situations were reversed, he would do the same. Carefully cut and peel fruit, keeping his hands busy with something instead of twisting and digging his nails into his palms. But speaking of, he brushes his fingers against Aki's palm, gentle and careful not to damage himself. He wonders if Aki can feel it.)
Do you remember the first time you gave me your hand?
(Almost exactly a year ago after a miserable battle in Tokyo's bay? Drenched and agitated because of the sea water, soaking wet in a different infirmary.
He keeps his voice soft, quiet so only Aki can hear,)
Maybe... Happy anniversary.