Fics like you look sillier through the fishbowl glass than the goldfish you’re watching

Your head is starting to actually feel itchy now, so you stop scratching at it and let your arm swing down like a dropped hammer. Chihiro doesn’t even blink at the whack it makes on the countertop you’re leaning against. You wouldn’t say you raised the kid, although it is true that you’ve been his most stable contact over the last three years and the runner up before that. The simple truth of it is that Chihiro can take care of himself. You stopped by regularly, updated the barriers and alarm system more often than Rokuhira remembered to weed the garden, and reminded yourself at the end of every day that the war was over now. Sure, things weren’t exactly peaceful, but nobody would call it wartime. Not compared to The War. But, still— (Rokuhira never stopped making katanas.) Shiba is currently in a hospital room, which isn't very nice. He's not the one in the bed though, which would be nice, except that the person in the bed is the kid of his old friend, who is dead. So it's not that nice at all.

Fics like you look sillier through the fishbowl glass than the goldfish you’re watching

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