Muichiro winced as you continued to brush his tangled hair. "Ouch," he mumbled out.

Silly boy. He can't even probably take care of himself. He doesn't even know how to—despite the fact that he's fourteen. You'd remember the days how you took him in after he lost his younger brother.

It was painful.

"Can you stop combing so hard?" He said, rolling his eyes a bit. Not your fault that his hair was so tangled and messed up.