Hamuko’s laughter wasn’t mean-spirited—if anything, it was a welcome break from the oppressive weight of this place—but still, Maruki felt his face heat up in secondhand embarrassment. His apprehension was less about her reaction and more about the stupid tiny gun now residing in his hand.
"I swear, this is not—" He cut himself off, looking at the peashooter again with a thoroughly unimpressed expression before huffing, his blush deepening. "How did it not just fall into my pants and get lost in there?"
Hamuko’s laughter tapered into a chuckle, but her next words didn’t make things any better.
Maruki’s brain froze for a second, just enough for his instincts to recognize that oh boy, that’s a whole can of worms. He filed that away for later. Right now, there was a more immediate crisis at hand.
No medicine.
His eyes widened, like he’d just been shot.
Instinctively, he started digging through his pockets.
Pants pockets—nothing. Other pants pocket—nope, no wallet. His back pockets—no sweets. No snacks. Nothing.
Except—
When he checked his hoodie’s front pocket, he finally pulled out something.
A single box of apple juice.
Maruki stared at it.
Paused.
Then, after a beat, he slowly held it up, trying—desperately—to reclaim some dignity.
"...I am. Well." A deep breath. A half smile twitching at the ends. "Good news, I guess?"
no subject
Akin to a kicked puppy.
Hamuko’s laughter wasn’t mean-spirited—if anything, it was a welcome break from the oppressive weight of this place—but still, Maruki felt his face heat up in secondhand embarrassment. His apprehension was less about her reaction and more about the stupid tiny gun now residing in his hand.
"I swear, this is not—" He cut himself off, looking at the peashooter again with a thoroughly unimpressed expression before huffing, his blush deepening. "How did it not just fall into my pants and get lost in there?"
Hamuko’s laughter tapered into a chuckle, but her next words didn’t make things any better.
Maruki’s shoulders slumped further. "You're kidding..."
But then she mentioned Messiah.
Messiah.
Maruki’s brain froze for a second, just enough for his instincts to recognize that oh boy, that’s a whole can of worms. He filed that away for later. Right now, there was a more immediate crisis at hand.
No medicine.
His eyes widened, like he’d just been shot.
Instinctively, he started digging through his pockets.
Pants pockets—nothing.
Other pants pocket—nope, no wallet.
His back pockets—no sweets. No snacks. Nothing.
Except—
When he checked his hoodie’s front pocket, he finally pulled out something.
A single box of apple juice.
Maruki stared at it.
Paused.
Then, after a beat, he slowly held it up, trying—desperately—to reclaim some dignity.
"...I am. Well." A deep breath. A half smile twitching at the ends. "Good news, I guess?"