Leave a “Break Me” in my ask, and I will write an angsty drabble about our characters.

Hakuba hefted a sigh, chin supported by his hand, elbow on the window ledge. Emi was gone. They’d done everything to save her. Everything. Risking life and limb to rescue her, tapping out all of their resources and contacts, exhausting every avenue, but they’d been too late. She was dead. Completely, utterly, inescapably lifeless and broken. 

It was hard for the detective, trying to hold back the tears and the emotions that broiled in his heart, but he had to. Akira was left having to deal with that silence, now, and though he didn’t entirely understand all of the complicated implications of this, he knew that she was hurting. He could feel that much. It was why he couldn’t even bring himself to look at her. God, it hurt. 

It hurt, it hurt, and he wondered if his heart would ever mend. He wondered if he even wanted it to. How could someone like her integrate herself into their lives only to leave? Did she know that it would tear through them with such violence? That it would do so much damage? 

He put his arm around Akira, pulling her close in an attempt to quell those little choking sobs that she was trying so hard to hold in. They still had a lot of work to do. So much to hide. So much to talk about and sort through and deal with, but neither of them wanted to move. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t right. It’s not as though any of them were particularly new to death, even, but… but the pain had never been this personal, this fresh before. 

It didn’t feel real. 

When she responded to his touch, curling into him instead of away, Hakuba turned to her, too. He wrapped his other arm around her and rested his chin on the top of her head, like he always did with Emi, eyes closing to shut out the sterile hallway in front of the coroner’s office. 

“…what are we going to do?” he asked, voice breaking through his hoarse whisper.