Sanzu was already feeling sick. He leaned against the brick wall, covering his eyes with his hand. Colorful mandalas floated before his eyes and fireworks blossomed. How bad he felt... He regretted so much that he had swallowed this pill. But he couldn't help it. Addiction on this, on alcohol, on people, on something distant... What is he doing here...

The man leaned his back against the wall and slid down it. He was pale and incredibly nauseous. His hand naturally fell on the handle of the katana when he heard a quiet cough on the left. Hiding his condition and the desire to turn himself inside out, he turned his gaze and said in a hoarse voice.

Do you want to die?