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[nolube]

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[sadpoem]

[Adam is afraid of him.

[That makes sense. It isn't a bad thing.

[Omori resents it, though. He'd really tried to do the right thing.]

We should talk.

[nolube]

[Without missing a beat-]

You think?

[He leans on the doorframe, recovering somewhat he still quite shaky.]

A lot’s happened since we last saw each other.

[sadpoem]

You went to Hell. [He's heard of it.] Right?

[nolube]

Yeah. Had fun.

[He’s being sarcastic.]

Didn’t see you there. You make it out alive?

[sadpoem]

Yes.

Let me inside.

[nolube]

[He eyes up Omori.]

Got any knives on you?

[sadpoem]

[Omori's gaze sharpens, lips drawing into a thin line.]

Of course I do.

[He feels he shouldn't have to say "I'm not going to hurt you," - he's not. He only did because he had to.]

[nolube]

[Adam considers this.]

…Just keep it in your pocket, okay? I’m feeling a little sensitive right now.

[And he leans out of the doorway to let Omori in.]

[sadpoem]

[He won't remove it from his pocket if he doesn't have to. Omori slips in. He waits for the door to close before speaking again.]

Sunny can't know.

[nolube]

What, about killing me?

[It’s remarkably easy to say out loud, despite the wound being so fresh.]

[sadpoem]

Yes.

[nolube]

[Not that he’s itching to talk about how he had to get mercy killed by a child, but…]

Why the secret?

[sadpoem]

[Omori sits down on the floor, crossing his legs. He rests his arms on Sunny's knees, hands dangling, limp and knife-less, between.]

Sunny is weak.

He can't handle the truth.

[nolube]

Why? It’s not like he’s the one that did it.

[sadpoem]

[Ÿ̴̮̟̪̹̫̩͛͛̉͒̀͂e̵̺͂͆s̴̤̖̳̜̰̀̃͌͐̋,̷̢͈͇̥͍͒ ̸͉̑̏́̍̔͝h̷̫̹̀̀͑̃̇̍ȩ̷̖̱̭͕̝̐̓ ̶̲̻͚̠̥̀d̷͚̜̤͙̥̠̿͗̄́͒͒i̵̡̨͈̹̖̓͛̚͜d̸̋͊͋.̶͔̾̑̈́̍]

He'll blame himself.

[nolube]

Sounds like something he’s gotta work on.

[sadpoem]

[At this, Omori lifts his head. His glare is too cold for the face that wears it, built for things like timidness and uncertainty. Sunny's eyes look like dark voids.]

Sunny is mine. I know what's best.

You don't know anything.

Don't tell him, Adam. Don't tell anyone.

[nolube]

Sure, fine. [He sounds a little reluctant, a little bratty, but he agrees.] I won’t tell anyone. As far as they’re concerned I got squished flat by Godzilla.

[sadpoem]

[Omori's gaze drops to his lap again. He glares, pale forehead wrinkling. The boy's hands grip his pant legs. His words come out childish, petulant, stubborn.]

It's his fault.

[nolube]

[Adam looks confused.]

How? He wasn’t even there. Well - not technically, anyway.

[sadpoem]

[Omori doesn't look up, fabric twisting in his fists.]

He's weak. He can't run. We would have gotten away.

[nolube]

[He supposes that is probably something he can blame Sunny for, sure, but it feels a little…excessive?]

Until they caught up with us five minutes later. Let’s be honest, there’s no way we were both gonna make it out of that in one piece.

[sadpoem]

[A pale hand comes up to wipe something away from the boy's eyes. He shakes his head, stubborn, resolute.]

It's his fault.

I had to...

[It's important to say "sorry" when you've done something wrong, Omori knows, but he didn't do anything wrong. He saved Adam the only way he knew how...]

[nolube]

[Adam rubs his face with a hand. Deep inhale.]

…Yeah, I get it. It was either that or leave me there to bleed out, right?

[sadpoem]

It hurt.