"It sucks," Akira agrees, keeping his hands busy with the flipshuffleflip of working cards. "It absolutely does. It sucks to go through, it sucks to be stuck and frustrated and know that your entire life is nothing but lies and. Yeah." As he continues, his words grow scattered, more frail, like something's carving them out from under him. Flipshuffleflipshuffle. "And you will carry those feelings. Until you get through this. But there are. Ways. Emotional management..."

Fwiipp. Akira's cards are a messy pile on the bar counter.

A few moments pass. Akira reaches under the bar and feels around, grabbing a highball glass and a newspaper.

"Take it out on these," he says. "I won't tell anyone."