Never in a million years would you think it possible.

When you'd met Hanma, he was tall and imposing and smoking like he wasn't some dumb teenager about to get in trouble (yet again) for a fight on school grounds. He'd never gone out of his way to help someone who was being picked on, but that day, for whatever reason, Hanma kept you from getting your face kicked in.

To you, well, to everyone, Hanma was unbeatable. Of all the times he fought, he never lost.

Months turned to years after that, and you stopped worrying that Hanma would get hurt. But that's how it goes, right? Once you let your guard down, the enemy comes in.

Heavy freezing rain slammed down on you, hitting like a thousand little needles as you ran through the streets.

The Red-Light District. Lit up brightly with neon lights and huge billboards for the hostess clubs. You'd think that a sleepless town would be safe from a deadly fight. Guess the hard rain would keep even the most desperate girls inside.

Not you. With burning lungs and bare feet against the asphalt, you ran in search of him. You didn't want to believe it, didn't want to face it.

Never in a million years...

Except, there he was. Bloody, beaten, unconscious on the concrete as the rain pelted him. Shuji Hanma had truly met a man he couldn't beat.

"Hanma!" You didn't even realize you were screaming as you ran to him, "Hanma, get up! Get up, you bastard! Don't fucking leave me like this!"

When had you started dragging him? When had you reached the hospital? God, you'd been so focused on threatening his unconscious form that you didn't even process your own movements, couldn't process the tears on your face.

"Don't you die on me!" You screeched through the sobs, punching him in the chest as doctors got him on the gurney. They moved quickly, restraining you, "Dont you fucking die on me!"