The young boy cried out, almost hysterically, "You're adults!"
"Why are you fighting a child for it?"
Xiao Xiao's hand lightly brushed over the young boy's hand.
The boy felt a slight pain on the back of his hand and instinctively released his grip.
Xiao Xiao pulled the corner of his clothes free.
He smoothed out the wrinkles in the fabric, then looked up at the boy, his voice calm and faintly cool. "Let me correct you on one thing."
"You took Little Guy from Old Grandmother."
"Make sure—"
"you don't get that wrong."
The young boy's agitation faltered.
His whole body trembled slightly.
The hand Xiao Xiao had brushed aside remained frozen in midair, fingers curled as if he were still holding something.
He pressed his lips together. His wide, bloodshot eyes were filled with disbelief.
"...I didn't take it."
He spoke each word slowly, his expression stubborn in a childlike way.
"Right, what you did wasn't taking it."
Xiao Xiao raised an eyebrow slightly. "You... stole it."
"I think you know that stealing is wrong, don't you?"
The young boy, who had just been momentarily stunned by the first half of the older boy's words, was now filled with embarrassment and anger.
"I didn't steal it!"
"Taking what isn't yours without asking—"
"is stealing."
Xiao Xiao crouched down again and met the boy's bloodshot eyes with a sharp gaze. "I think you know what that means, don't you?"
"...I didn't steal it."
The boy looked away, then seemed to think that made him look guilty, so he turned his gaze back.
His eyes were lowered slightly.
"I found Little Guy in the bag of socks in my little brother's room."
"I found it."
"So it's mine."
"It didn't have a name tag on it."
The young