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Summary
Haru makes a face as soon as he swigs from the carton, and Wumuti has a moment of thinking oh please, because he has to be exaggerating.
It’s not like durian juice tastes that bad, even if you don’t like it—and then she realizes that she had gotten home so late last night that she hadn’t wanted to sterilize any of her blood bags, so she’d poured it into an empty carton, and that’s blood Haru’s drinking.
