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[nolube]

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[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.

[nolube]

Hurt me a hell of a lot too.

[He did straight up die!]

[sadpoem]

[A sharp little glare, teary-eyed.]

That's what I mean. [Adam was hurting. He was suffering. He's Omori's friend. Omori promised to keep death far away; he couldn't, so he made it come quicker.

[But it hurt Omori too. Adam didn't entirely mistake his meaning.]

[nolube]

[Ah…oh…he’s really torn up about this, isn’t he?

He can’t really make it better, he can’t say it was all fine and none of it matters.]

Hey, at least you didn’t leave me alone.

[His voice is quieter, more sincere. That - at least - meant a lot to Adam.]

[sadpoem]

[Omori nods, wiping at his eyes again. He's done crying - not built for that sort of thing, really, though sadness, depression, misery have always been programmed in...]

I won't.

[nolube]

Thanks.

[He prays it doesn’t happen again. He knows it probably might.]

Same goes here.

[sadpoem]

[Omori stares up at Adam. He's far less expressive than Sunny, who can't be described as "expressive," anyway, even on a good day; still, there's something to that gaze, questioning.]

We're friends. [As if...to confirm.

[Even after that, Adam isn't walking away? It was so easy for everyone else...they didn't even know Sunny was a murderer...]