Do you hear the drips? Smol lonely Furuta melts my heart.
“I heard what you did.” Arima watched Souta closely. The kid kicks his legs back and forth, as if he’s on a swing instead of a brick wall.
Souta looks at the ground. “She needed to be free.”
“I know.”
Now Souta looks up at him. Arima agreed? Arima didn’t consider him a reprobate? Everyone treated him like a pariah since. Being whipped for an hour straight after her escape had been more tolerable than their constant disapproval.
It’s bad enough when Dad treats him this way. He didn’t expect it from everyone else.
At least he’s stopped crying himself to sleep. If they think he’s a scoundrel, he’ll be a scoundrel beyond their wildest imaginations. And every pain will be worth it when she reunites with him, as he promised her.
“I love her,” Souta told him. His eyes glitter, dark and proud. Washuu eyes.
Arima gingerly reaches out and pats his head. He knows childhood love is simple and easily broken. But for now, if it helps his half-brother survive more rejection, he’s happy for him.
Mercy and Magic 