//my own prison

[otaku_mk_ii]

Otacon was unhappy. Between what had happened with Liquid and having met his father here--the latter of which had shaken him to the core while the former left him wondering if he was losing his mind--he was hating this building more by the day. But he had promised Raikov something; well, asked and had been accepted,but whichever--and Otacon never

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[kuklakimou]

The sight of Otacon in the kitchen surprised him. He wasn't sure how long the man had been waiting there, or who for - the thought that it was himself never crossed his mind - and the distress evident on the man's face was worrying. He approached slowly, the wheels creaking lightly on the floor.

"Did something happen? You appear shaken..."

[otaku_mk_ii]

"!"

The sound of the wheelchair drained all color from Otacon's face. But upon realizing who it was, Otacon greeted Raikov with a cheerful smile.

He was always good at false smiles.

"Oh, me? I'm fine."

[kuklakimou]

Raikov was not fooled.

He had seen that lack of colour, after all. However, if Otacon was unwilling to tell him, he was not sure whether to press the issue or not.

"Hal... if the wheelchair bothers you, I can walk for short distances."

It would be painful, but he could manage it.

[otaku_mk_ii]

"What--n-no!" He waved his hands defensively, clearly upset at the idea. "It doesn'tbother me, honestly!"