"Let me save. Let me SAVE—"
"You've had hours," Arashi said, hauling on the back of Raizen's chair. "Days. You've had days, Raizen, and you smell like a terminal."
"How do terminals even smell—!?" Raizen protested.
"You smell like nothing. It's deeply concerning – you usually reek of sweat and metal. Keahi, he's resisting."
Keahi didn't argue with him and didn't argue with Raizen either. She simply came around the workstation, took Raizen by both shoulders from behind, and held him there, locking him in place — while he scrambled to close his practice sheets. Her breath was on the back of his neck, like a warden's carefully behind a dangerous prisoner.
"Ok, ok, stop - I'm saving! I'm saving, look, I'm literally—"
"Save faster."
"It's saving…!" Raizen whined.
