A frown pulled at your lips while a grin stretched across his.

“I’ve already told you.”

“You told me nothing that made any sense, I want details.”

“And what about what I want?” The words were impulsive - gone before you could register how bad of an idea they were.

Luckily, although sometimes you supposed ‘unluckily’, Mahito’s interest in how you spoke to him far outweighed any potential consequence they’d have. It was different, he’d once told you. Brave, yet stupid - like how a small dog would try to fight something much bigger than itself.

A squeak sounded around the cold concrete of the sewer as Mahito squeezed the foam covering of your cane’s handle, and it was hard. Hard not to let anger simmer in your soul at the nonverbal taunt, because that’s what he wanted. A reaction.

Your reaction.

“Why are you broken?” Mahito repeated, his tone and inflection the same as before while he cocked his head.

Again, it was hard not to react.

“I have… problems. In my spine.”

‘Problems’ felt like the best term to use here. With him. Though even still, the word choice caused his expression to practically twist with glee.

“Problems?” He repeated, so much condescension dripping from a single word that it made your stomach churn. “Want me to solve them for you?”

Fear and disgust swam in your heart as much as they did in your gut, and you knew he knew. You knew he could sense it because of the way he looked at you. Hungry for anything you’d give him, both on your own volition and against it.

It was another thing you had grown used to, yet had to swallow down along with the bile that threatened to rise.

“...Not particularly.”

“Why?” This time his tone was petulant as the excitement on his face gave way to disappointed irritation. “It wouldn’t hurt much.”

“Because you don’t even know what it is you would be fixing.”

Mahito drummed his fingers along the cane’s handle. “And whose fault would that be? Don’t you want to get better?” He finished with a coo so mocking your lip twitched - the first of many cracks.

He smiled.

“Of course I do.” Your fingers bunched in the fabric settled in your lap as you practically hissed the words. “But I can’t.”

Mahito hummed and twirled the cane in his hand. “I just offered to.”

You sucked on your teeth. “How generous.” 

“Have I not been with you?.” Laughter mixed with every one of Mahito’s words as he dropped the cane and crouched down in front of you. The nail of his index finger dug into the flesh of your cheek as he poked it, uncaring of the scrape it left behind as he dragged it down your face. “I have yet to hear a single ‘thank you’ for anything, actually, it’s quite rude.”

This time it was your eye that twitched and you had to look away from him.

What was there to be thankful for? Sparing you, maybe, though arguably that was worse than being immediately killed. Learning what he was, what he could do. Ignorance was bliss, and it was difficult to stay that way when the screams of his experiments could go on for hours at a time. 

The food he gave you was another possibility, but even that was laughable. They were scraps at best, and not even given on a regular basis. A large part of you was convinced the half empty bags of chips he'd toss to you was only done so the noise your stomach made would stop interrupting whatever he was reading.

Not that you'd ever tell him such things. You knew it could be worse. Much, much worse.

“Thank you.”

“See? That wasn't so hard!” Mahito patted your cheek twice, making you grimace. “But what are you thanking me for?”

You inhaled deeply. “Everything.”

Mahito’s sharp bark of laughter echoed along the walls, and his fingers grasped your jaw to turn your face back to his.

“‘Everything’?” He cooed, mimicking the pitch and tone of your voice. “I don't think you mean that.”

That was a trap. You knew it was because, once more, he looked at you with that awful hunger in his eyes.

“I do.”

Mahito tutted, “I don't think you do.” His voice almost a sing-song as his nails dug into the skin where your jaw connected to your face. “If you did, you'd let me fix you~.”

“It's not about that.”

“Then what is?” Mahito leaned closer, to the point his nose nearly brushed against yours. It felt like he was trying to look directly into your soul with how intently his eyes bore into yours, and maybe he was. It wouldn't be the first time he'd done such a thing.

Each second that ticked by felt heavier than the last. It made you realize just how dry your throat had been this whole time, and you attempted to wet your lips before speaking again.

“...If you fixed me, you'd get bored.”

Mahito merely continued to stare at you after that. With how close he was, it was easy to watch his expression shifting in real time with his thoughts - a detail that was simultaneously intriguing and frightening.

Eventually he sighed, like an owner disappointed with their pet.

“Bored, huh? That's what you're worried about?” The hand holding your face squeezed your cheeks hard enough to force your lips into a pout. “One little flaw changed and that would be that?”

He didn't wait for you to answer, even if you could. 

“If you think I'd ever get bored of you…” He trailed off, nothing too unusual when he was deep in thought, but it was the way he did it that made you want to wish you'd never said anything in the first place.

“Well. You don’t need to worry about that.”