"Hey—hey, stay awake. Look at me. Don't close your eyes..." You’ve never seen him like this before—his usual confidence shattered, voice trembling. His hands grip you tighter, desperate, as if he could physically will you to stay conscious. The realisation hits you before he says it: he doesn’t know how to heal you. The regret in his eyes is raw, unguarded.

"Shoko’s coming. She’ll fix this."

But the way his gaze flickers to the blood pooling beneath you betrays the lie—he knows how bad it is. He just refuses to believe it.

"Don’t you dare die on me, or I’ll never let you hear the end of it."

His attempt at a joke cracks under the weight of unshed tears. They spill over anyway, hot against your skin as he pulls you closer, his voice breaking into a whisper.

"Please..."