So. I just read chapter 124, and I can't really tell wether I love or hate it with all my heart.

So I wrote something. As in, I finished it two minutes ago. And I don't know why, but the words came to me in English, so here you go.

English's not my mother language, so please, do tell me if there's any grammar or spelling mistakes, okay ?

And just in case someone missed it, BIG SPOILERS AHEAD, DON'T READ IF YOU HAVEN'T READ UP TO CHAPTER 124 YET. CHAPTER 123 ISN'T ENOUGH, READ 124 BEFORE. I'm serious.

And, of course, there's some swearing.


They laid him down on one of the only beds of the building. His blood is dark on the bandages, but his face is white, whiter than usual, whiter than snow, whiter than any face should be. And he's shaking, his shoulders, his hands, his legs, his whole body is violently trembling. His fingers twitch like they don't know whether to press flat on the bed sheets, tense and still, or to grasp a handful of the dirty fabric, curl into tight fists and punch the hard mattress.

You're having a hard time stopping yourself from doing just that. Punch.

Punch the mattress, punch the wall, punch the floor, punch all those people looking at him with sorry faces, punch the boy except he's gone now, punch the damn witch, punch him, stupid him. Scream and shout and howl and punch everything, break something, kill something.

Hit him so he wakes up and looks at you with the eye that's left, if there's anything left to him.

Hit him until he asks you to stop, even though you know he won't. Stupid.

The doctor is looking at you when she speaks, you know, but you don't look back. You hear what she says and you wish you didn't.

The manjuu is crying, crying, crying, and it just feels so weird that it's the only one to do so. It cries, begs, prays, but before the witch can say a word his voice stops her.

It's different, his voice. Quiet, weak, labored, like it hurts him just to speak (and you know that even if it does, it's not going to stop him from speaking). All the joy, all the laugh, all the energy, all the carelessness, it's all gone. You know it was always faked, but now it's gone, and it just sounds so different.

He is going to die, you realize with a start.

Like hell.

The manjuu cries some more, screams when you grab him, but he says nothing. He just looks at you, with his only eye that's left — except nothing's left, inside. It's empty, hollow, void — even more so than the other one. You want to punch him, and he fucking smiles.

Sorry, he says. Right. Sorry he's dying. Or sorry you can't do anything, is it ? Sorry you can never do anything when people die. Sorry you could never protect him when he didn't — sorry he did protect himself this once, because you couldn't, sorry it just wasn't enough.

He doesn't want to die, you know ; he never wanted to.

He just wants to let himself die. He wants you to let him die, and there's no fucking way in hell you're just going to sit back and watch while he's dying.

He closes his eyes — no, his eye, his only eye — and slumps down, and you don't turn around to face the witch.

You don't look at her, but you know she heard you, you know she's giving your back that strange look that sends chills down your spine, the look that means the price is a heavy one, the look that means you're not going to like what she will ask.

But you're still looking at his face, his white calm sleeping hurt face, and you know anything you can give is worth this.