Higuruma hisses between clenched teeth as you stitch up a nasty gash he received from a fight. You pause, but he waves it off. "I'm fine, sugar, it's alright," He murmurs, biting his lower lip. You sigh. He's so reckless sometimes, thinking he can always win a fight without a scratch in his flesh. He always ends up here, sitting in your dining room table as you patch him up. You take out a little container of salve, spreading it over his stitches. He stares down at you as you work.