As he passes Akechi on the way to fetch soup bowls, for a split second, the face he sees out of the corner of his eye is caked in black blood. He flinches hard. Fuck, he thinks, heart pounding. Lucky he wasn't carrying anything.

The omnipresent whispers gain volume. His parents are absent for now, but he recognizes other voices, other threats. Orphanage directors, of course, and various others as well, who've seen him as someone to subdue or eliminate over the years. He presses his lips together and pulls bowls and soup spoons out of Leblanc's cabinets.