"Better?" He murmurs in discontent. His fingers gently touch the skin of your knee, right where he has placed a small bandage to cover the scrape.

He has failed again trying to open your eyes, as if it weren't enough, you are there, smiling so stupidly that it makes him want to give up his attempts—for now—. You hurt your knee in a ridiculous way, Megumi firmly believes that you are an object that attracts misfortune.

For the past few months he has been trying to make you notice the romantic feelings he has for you; letters, posters, songs, words, direct confessions that are ultimately interrupted—just as now; he asked you minutes before to read a letter high up in the tree, and you slipped before could grab it. You must be either too stupid or too naive.

"Tsk." He reproaches himself again, his head racking as he thinks of how to make you understand.

"It should be a crime for a sorceress to fall from a tree so easily."