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Sobs and whines escaped Ouma as Iidabashi lightly patted a folded tissue on the young boy’s scraped knee, the fiber absorbing the blood dripping from his wound.
This wasn’t the first time that Ouma’s scraped his knees, and it wouldn’t be the last. His injuries would turn into scars if his clumsiness continued to get the better of him.
Iidabashi unwrapped a small band-aid from its packaging, peeling away the backing before applying it to Ouma’s wound.
Ouma rubbed his eyes and wiped away his tears. He thanked Iidabashi, as he would any time he’d have to patch Ouma up.