His head doesn't hurt anymore; the wound Akito gave him by smashing the pitcher was almost negligent.
Yuki wonders whether Akito is losing his touch. He wonders whether Akito has become soft. And he wonders if this means that the end is near. It does not fill him with glee or joy or even relief. He dreams about the day he met Akito and every time he does, he awakes with tears in his eyes and sobs caught in his chest. It is deceptively heavy, the pressing knowledge that Akito is dying and that there is nothing to be done. Yuki can no longer call upon those old feelings of abandonment and rage – it as if they have faded along with Akito's life.
Yuki wishes the curse could be broken. He wishes he could be stronger. He wishes Akito could be stronger. He wishes his life wasn't granted by Akito's pain. He wishes Tohru could escape it all. He wishes that there was something he could do.
But if wishes were horses...