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Summary
Akechi knew Yusuke better than to assume that he was trying to make Akechi feel sorry for him; he was simply dealing out a fact to fall where it may.
“Quiet,” he hissed, touching the knife tip to Yusuke’s throat, drawing forth a bead of blood, a tiny red poker chip that Yusuke could stake his life on, adding it to the same pot he had begun to recklessly build when throwing his lot in with the enemy only weeks earlier.
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Yusuke offers Akechi a new outlet for his anger.