"Are you sure?" The words struggled to get out of Gojo's mouth. The two were sitting on a bench, with Utahime treating her own wound.
Gojo, being the persistent type, offered help only to make the situation worse. Utahime wondered how he managed to stay alive up this point, he was chaos himself.
First, he attempted to calm Utahime down by holding her hands and telling her to breathe in and out slowly. Not that she was panicking or anything. He's heard that people who usually received cuts, especially girls, have the tendency to cry out of nervousness or at the sight of blood. Utahime was horrified at how he wasn't even trying to be funny.
Second, he ordered Utahime to "strip down" her kosode so that he could clean her cut. The way he worded it out was so wrong that not even him realized what he just said. What he actually meant was for her to roll her sleeve up so that he could take a better look at the wound.
Third, he almost got her infected by attempting to pour a bottle of hydrogen peroxide on the wound. Not to mention it was a deep cut, he almost got her whole arm ready for amputation.
"Are you trying to kill me? Because I could have died twice already."
Utahime wanted to believe that he was a capable guy, at least. He came from a wealthy family, one of the big three clans in the world of sorcery. But every time he opened his mouth, he just kept proving her wrong.
After arguing with him and convincing him that she could just do it without his help, her internal dreading came to an end. The least he's done for her was buy the antibiotic ointments and other wound-treating stuff at the pharmacy near them.
"Has anyone ever told you that you're awfully bad at this?" Utahime asked innocently. After washing her hands from the water and soap he bought, she carefully poured it onto her right arm as well.
"You're the first one, actually." Gojo watched as she applied an antibiotic ointment on her wound. He was mentally taking notes on how to correctly treat a cut just by watching her do it her way. He blamed the false information he's watched on t.v. 'Hydrogen peroxide isn't always the answer for wounds,' he concluded.
The last step was to put a band-aid on. Gojo wanted to do this right that he snatched the band-aid from Utahime's hand.
"Do you like the Hello Kitty design so much that you don't want me to apply it on my arm?" She asked, a little annoyed. If that was the reason, he could have just said so in the first place. He was still 15 years old, after all. Utahime understands that teenagers these days have weird likings.
"Like that's even it. Let me put it on for you." He unwrapped it and peeled off the plastic strip on both ends. Positioning the band-aid, he made sure the sterile cloth covered the deep wound on her arm. Utahime was impressed at Gojo for doing the bare minimum.
Finishing it off with a tap on the band-aid, what he just did registered on his mind late. Utahime scowled at how it stung her arm.
******
