[It's a strange feeling, the sensation of cold steel sliding against bone, it's a stranger feeling when that bone shifts, when the space between them widens, when soft tissue twists and tears to make room for something unyielding.
He feels like he can almost hear it groan under the strain, but of course he can't. He feels like he's going to vomit from the awful, uncanny sensation of it, but of course he doesn't.
He grins. And he shifts. Gets his other foot under him, presses harder into Takasugi's neck, makes to stand slowly, slowly, so he doesn't lose his leverage over him, so he can eliminate any openings Takasugi might be able to desperately grasp at, when stepping forward would crush his windpipe. It's a threat - he's stopped short of the final blow, but he doesn't have to - even with pain spidering up his arm, even with the knife brushing nerves and making his fingers twitch erratically on Takasugi's hand, out of his control.
That doesn't matter. That's why his other hand is gripping his wrist. Just in case.]
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He feels like he can almost hear it groan under the strain, but of course he can't. He feels like he's going to vomit from the awful, uncanny sensation of it, but of course he doesn't.
He grins. And he shifts. Gets his other foot under him, presses harder into Takasugi's neck, makes to stand slowly, slowly, so he doesn't lose his leverage over him, so he can eliminate any openings Takasugi might be able to desperately grasp at, when stepping forward would crush his windpipe. It's a threat - he's stopped short of the final blow, but he doesn't have to - even with pain spidering up his arm, even with the knife brushing nerves and making his fingers twitch erratically on Takasugi's hand, out of his control.
That doesn't matter. That's why his other hand is gripping his wrist. Just in case.]
Let go, Shinsuke.