[ The child flinches the moment Atsumu speaks, looking very much like he wants to get to his feet and bolt. And could he be blamed for it? He's found himself in a strange place, with no memory how he got here, suddenly confronted by two (huge) youths seemingly intent on fighting. It's only the exhaustion dragging at his limbs and weighing him down that keep him frozen where he's crouched small against a wall, only staring up at Atsumu in silent anxiety for a moment.
It takes a moment for him to find any words. ]
I ... [ A thick swallow. His voice is soft and hoarse. ] ... I can't.
[ Physically. It feels impossible. His hand is shaking from clutching the knife so hard, knuckles pale and fingertips numb, and it feels more like someone else's limb than his own.
The knifeblade clinks against the ground when he lets his hand rest against the ground, still too tense to let it go, but too exhausted to even pretend he's still on-guard. And while there's no quaver in his voice, his words come oddly flat and hollow for his age as he looks up at Atsumu: ]
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It takes a moment for him to find any words. ]
I ... [ A thick swallow. His voice is soft and hoarse. ] ... I can't.
[ Physically. It feels impossible. His hand is shaking from clutching the knife so hard, knuckles pale and fingertips numb, and it feels more like someone else's limb than his own.
The knifeblade clinks against the ground when he lets his hand rest against the ground, still too tense to let it go, but too exhausted to even pretend he's still on-guard. And while there's no quaver in his voice, his words come oddly flat and hollow for his age as he looks up at Atsumu: ]
... are you here to arrest me?