I simply didn't feel like getting up.

[ Which is... also not a lie, since he doesn't feel like doing much of anything at all. But if only so to prove a point, he at least hoists himself up to a sitting position, still not leaving the small comfort of his bed. ]

I have eaten enough. [ Which is not saying a lot, considering this is the kid who would sometimes have an apple for lunch even when he was himself, so maybe take that information with a grain of salt. ] Lupin-san often brings me something to eat. Others have, as well.

[ But if he waits for the way Akechi would normally want to tell him, all he's going to hear are lies, or at least half concealed truths. That really is a backwards thought, but it works for him. ]

I don't. [ It's a quick, simple answer, and he considers leaving it at that, but then decides to add: ] I was unharmed, and I feel no pain whatsoever. I have never been better.

[ And isn't that the truth? Feeling nothing at all, he thinks, is much preferable to constant emotional turmoil. ]

[ Even in his current condition, Akechi can tell there's something very lackluster about Akira's reply; quiet and barely expressive though he may be, he was never indifferent, and his answers were always earnest, even it was something as inane as telling a mere acquaintance how sleepy he was upon an early morning meeting in the train platforms. But this? It barely sounds like he means it.

Ah, well. It's not Akechi cares, anyway. ]

You don't sound so bothered. [ He brings it up, anyway, more out of instinct than any real want for conversation. ] I don't need meaningless words of comfort.

Will you? You hardly ever say anything.

[ Is he talking about how quiet Akira normally is? Maybe. Is this also about the secrets he keeps, the distance, and how he doesn't quite treat him like a member of the team, even though, for all intents and purposes, that's what they are? Very likely so.

But does Akechi actually care about it? Not at the moment, no. He's just going through the motions and making conversation-- and the problem with that is that he doesn't care to be pleasant, either. ]

[ Hah, yet another empty promise, with no real meaning, no real feeling; even as he is right now, Akechi can pick up on the clues.

He also picks up on how Akira says it's hard to feel anything right now, and he briefly wonders if his venture into the woods yielded similar results to Akechi's-- the loss of all emotion, that is. It's hard to tell, with someone who's already so hard to read on a regular basis. ]

If you wish. [ Because, really, whether he tries hard or not, it's all very inconsequential to Akechi right now. It doesn't change anything. ] But in that case, you might want to come back when it's not so hard for you to feel much. With the way you are right now, I can hardly believe it.