The information seemed to filter in way too slowly. It was almost as if his brain was trying to reject it, because as experienced as Niikura was with death and pain, that entire incident - clinging agonizingly onto consciousness, forcing a grin to stay on his face even as Kitagami and his men beat the shit out of him - had forced him, by Akumetsu's standards, to the brink of despair.
And now Mike had seen it - exposed that one moment of all-encompassing suffering and helplessness. Normally, he wouldn't be worried, would've laughed it off and related the whole sordid story with a smile on his face. But this time, the idea of someone knowing something so personal about him without his explicit permission only increased his anger, because he knew that only the powers that were in the institute could magic that up.
Which meant that Mike really was working for them.
The closet rod snapped as Niikura tightened his grip, the splinters digging into his palm bringing an almost relieving pain. "Pokin' around in people's heads, huh?" he growled, taking a step forward. "And who gifted ya with that kinda power? Landel? Aguilar?"
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And now Mike had seen it - exposed that one moment of all-encompassing suffering and helplessness. Normally, he wouldn't be worried, would've laughed it off and related the whole sordid story with a smile on his face. But this time, the idea of someone knowing something so personal about him without his explicit permission only increased his anger, because he knew that only the powers that were in the institute could magic that up.
Which meant that Mike really was working for them.
The closet rod snapped as Niikura tightened his grip, the splinters digging into his palm bringing an almost relieving pain. "Pokin' around in people's heads, huh?" he growled, taking a step forward. "And who gifted ya with that kinda power? Landel? Aguilar?"