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[arclightning]

MAKO'S INBOX

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[arclightning]

Your partner's old harmonica?

[ That little dented thing, small and old and so heavy with meaning?

No wonder he's so lost.

It can't be the reason, not entirely, but Mako can see the meaning behind it—has been clinging to the vestiges of his own lost home and watching them slip away for good at the same time. At least he is anchored here by the people he loves. Manabu doesn't have any of that.

He tightens his arm a little bit, frowning quietly at his own knees. ]

Not exactly what I meant, but. Did it wash up with you?

[siriusly]

[what else could Mako possibly mean at a time like this! can't think about the options.

the arm over his shoulders keeps him anchored in place despite the minute effort to move away. he's also stayed by the question and the effort to think on it.]

...No? [washed up? what? his expression scrunches.] Didn't wash up.

[arclightning]

With you.

[ The follow-up idiot isn't spoken, exactly, but it hovers there, affectionate and rough as Mako tugs on his shoulders a little bit. ]

Have you had it since you woke up here?

[siriusly]

[Manabu is wobbled a bit by the tugging, head bobbing as he frowns and makes a visible effort to think on the question.]

Nn, no. N-nothing. Gotta look.