[ It's been nearly four weeks since Shiba's gotten his arms broken-- but now they're out of the casts. Be careful, the doctor says, Rosalie says. The bones are still weak.
Well in their prolonged disuse, they certainly felt weak. He couldn't really stand it anymore, he needed to do something besides carry trays of cookies around the bakery. So he
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And more to the point, he's with Hachiko, and while Saburo might pick a fight with the world, he wouldn't drag his tiny puppy in for the beating.
For all his lies, he surprisingly still maintains some level of conscience.
He's rather surprised to see Shiba, and Hachiko barks with excitement for this new friend.]
Oh, hey.
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It's not like she's going to beat you up or say mean things to you. That's my job.
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[ That's all he can really say in response-- he wouldn't expect Saburo to understand, just like he doesn't understand Saburo's weird rejections-nowaitacceptions-nowaityousuck-waitcomeback mood swings. He does give a little wave back, though-- and it's easy to see the massive scarring over his arms, distorting the slender muscle that was there awkwardly under the skin, which was patchy and almost mismatched because of old injuries. ]
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