[ There's nothing to say out loud. He sits with his back against the vending machine and fiddles with the end of the bandage around his neck until he can peel a corner and unwrap it:
It's an ugly gash across his neck, thick and uneven, unlike a cut made by a knife. There are still stiches in place, a neat now that pull taut on the skin over his throat when he swallows. All in all, the most fatal injury looks the least serious. He's not taking off his pants to show Komaeda the one on his leg. ]
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It's an ugly gash across his neck, thick and uneven, unlike a cut made by a knife. There are still stiches in place, a neat now that pull taut on the skin over his throat when he swallows. All in all, the most fatal injury looks the least serious. He's not taking off his pants to show Komaeda the one on his leg. ]