because i could not stop for death/akira jb

[✌ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ]

Nobody comes to say goodbye but that's no shocker, he doesn't tether himself to much. So he just sits there, eyes on the vaulted marble ceiling as he waits for the train that's coming to take him away.

Might as well be in a mausoleum.

It's strange, he knows that he should be afraid, but even when he goes looking for it, there's no feeling of fear. There's just this calm quiet muting every thought in his head like someone's thrown a wet blanket over his brain.

It's probably because of the pills in his pocket, holding any feeling louder than a whisper hostage.

His heel kicks off the floor and Akira gets up to pace, fingers wrapping around a slightly rumpled carton in his back pocket. "Fuck," he mutters, peering into the box. There are only five left, he hadn't thought to stock up. It doesn't stop him from shimmying one out to light in the waiting room.

There's one window in the room and it's facing the tracks. Bars cover it in a crosshatch, making even the attempt of escape seem futile. Akira pulls it open anyway and then leans against the wall beside it.

What'll his dad do with all his things?

He's never coming back here, even if he wins, there's no reason to. Why would he when nine is a depressing shithole and the Capitol looks like paradise? Anyway, his stuff is probably gonna be out on the curb before the countdown for the bloodbath even starts, just one perk of having a narcissist for a father.

It doesn't phase him, he can always just buy it all again. The only thing he can think of that's going to hurt to lose is hidden too well for his dad to find anyway.

If he lives, he'll come back for it and if he dies, well, at least rest easy knowing it's safe from him.

Smoke curls upwards out of his mouth and he blows it expertly towards the window. Him and Elora used to spend most of study block in the abandoned sixth floor bathroom pretending not to smoke. That was before he slept with her girlfriend though. Two tethers, one knife, Akira's not spoken with either of them since.

But every now and then he wonders if Elora ever thinks about the those times. He wonders if she thinks about him and if she smiles when she does.

He wonders if she's going to grieve him, if anyone will.

The building begins to vibrate, then Akira hears it coming through the window, it's the sound of a train moving down the tracks. A peacekeeper opens the door, out of regular uniform in a black jumpsuit and a smooth black helmet hiding her face. She fills the frame of the doorway, not by height or girth but a third thing. He just looks at her, the last bit of the cigarette still stuck between his lips, and then shrugs. The peacekeeper takes a step in, then pauses, "Smoking is not–"

"Yeah, I know," he grins and drops the butt on the marble floor before stamping it out with the heel of his boot, "They'll stunt my growth."

"The train is here, you're out of time."

Akira's smile fades the littlest bit; An ember of fear quietly ignites.