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Summary
“I said what?” Osamu’s slack jaw hangs so wide, Rintarou kind of wonders if he could get a fist in there. Probably.
“You said you love me.” It is no less absurd the second time. Rintarou navigates to his camera and snaps a picture of Osamu’s dumbfounded face. It’s a good one: jaw wagging, eyes wide under the shadowy brim of his baseball cap, lip pulled up on one side like he’s got a fishhook through it.
Osamu’s confusion fades into suspicion. “That’s not funny.”
“Am I laughing?” Click.
In which Suna and Osamu’s friends-with-benefits arrangement is tested, and fails.