After a fun but short trip in Kyoto, Ken was back in Beigoma to help their parents with the family business. The evening of the performance at the children's hospital was a tad gloomy, but Ken was glad to see all the little friends that gathered in front of the theater Himeko and Suijin had set up. Even some beyblade fans came up to Ken to congratulate them for doing well in the national tournament several weeks before.

Ken wished their parents luck before heading off to check on the children who couldn't make it to the main show. On and on they went, weaving in and out of rooms and trying to cheer every kid up with Keru and Besu. One of the kids had an amputated arm; another was having their stomach pumped; and yet another was recovering from brain surgery. Some of them were confused by Ken's androgynous appearance, but when they asked, Ken always managed to explain that despite how they were born, they didn't feel like a girl or a boy: they were just a person. Ken had always prided themselves on always being able to make the people around them laugh or smile.

When they finally got to Ryota's room, Ken found themselves a little anxious - they hadn't seem him since before he was scheduled to start chemo. They knocked twice on the door; when nobody answered, they slid the door open. Daigo had said he'd be visiting Ryota around the same time as the performance, so Ken was looking forward to seeing him again.

And there he was . . . dozed off in Ryota's bed, next to his sleeping little brother. Ryota's heart monitor was beeping steadily, but his IV was fastened a little tighter against his arm. Had he had a breakdown and tried to pull it out? Maybe it had happened while Ken was away. If so, why didn't Daigo call them to let them know?

Maybe he just didn't wanna ruin my trip, Ken thought with a sad sigh.

Ken approached Ryota's bed. Apart from the IV, there was a tube in his nose, hooked up to an oxygen tank. Daigo was sleeping on top of the blanket beside him, an arm wrapped securely around him. Ryota's stuffed coyote plush fell off the bed as he coughed in his sleep.

Ken took off Besu and hesitantly reached out to pet Ryota's cheek. He stirred a little, but he didn't wake up. They were so lost in thought that they didn't hear the footsteps entering the room from behind them.

"Oh - hullo, Ken."

"Huh?"

Slightly startled, Ken swiftly turned around to find Tsakana standing there, looking tired as usual.

"H-hi, Mrs. Kurogami," Ken replied, greeting her with a hasty bow. They had always been a little tense around her.

Tsakana responded with a nod before approaching her sons. She carefully reached out to gently shake Daigo's shoulder. He stirred before waking up, and Tsakana motioned for him to be quiet, putting her forefinger over her lips.

Ken watched as Daigo snuck out of bed, careful not to wake Ryota. Ryota reached out for him, but Ken quickly improvised by picking up Ryota's coyote from the ground and placing it in his grasp. Ryota rolled over in his sleep, holding his stuffed anima tightly. Tsakana leaned in to kiss his nose. She then nodded to Daigo and began to lead him out of the room.

"G'night, Ken," Daigo said softly as he passed them.

"Goodnight," said Ken.

No, Daigo, don't go. But they watched the two leave the room and close the sliding door behind them.

Ken turned to peer down at Ryota, sleeping soundly, clutching his bear. Only then did Ken notice that he looked a little weaker since the last time they saw him - well, that is what chemotherapy does to someone. They held out their free hand to pet Ryota's hair. But as they pulled away, they found that a lock of his ebony black hair had come with them.

Ken gasped, and their hands started to shake: Ryota's hair had already begun falling out.

~

The entire time Ken helped their parents pack up the theater, they were silent, and the drive home wasn't any different. Part of them wished they had stayed in Kyoto for longer.

"Are you okay, sweetie?" Himeko asked her youngest from the passenger seat.

Ken simply shrugged, not keen on answering. Their hands were still shaking, but they didn't understand why. They were supposed to be desensitized to this shit. They gripped Keru and Besu firmly as their left leg bounced up and down and up and down.

He's gonna die, Ken thought over and over again. Lung cancer was a malicious attacker: they knew that it wasn't longer before Doomscizor's namesake would come to collect Ryota's soul. It was all Ken could do not to have a full on panic attack right there in the backseat.

That night, Ken didn't feel like joining the rest of their family for dinner, even though the delicious smell of what Chinatsu had whipped up enticed them so. All they could do was hobble to their room that they had once shared with Gurei and collapse onto their bed, curling up into a ball. No . . . Ryota couldn't die. Too many people would miss him.

But if there's one thing death doesn't do, it's discriminate. It can and will take anyone.

Just like it took Yuki.

Ken turned over on their back, staring up at the ceiling as they struggled to breathe. They hadn't bothered to turn their bedroom light on, so their only light source was the dim remnants of sunlight that peeked in through their window. When they were younger, they would talk to themselves through Keru and Besu as a way to cheer themselves up. But now, they had friends to do that instead.

So, Ken called Asa.

"Hey, Ken." Asa's scratchy voice greeted them over the phone. "How was your trip to Kyoto?" There were sizzling sounds in the background, so she had most likely put the call on speaker while making herself some dinner. Her single father had probably already gone to bed.

"It was fun," Ken answered her, but their voice cracked. Asa immediately noticed this.

"You're not okay." she realized. It wasn't a question. It was a statement.

Ken took a shaky deep breath. They lifted their hand to pinch the bridge of their nose as though to stop a headache.

"I don't think Ryota's gonna survive," they confessed. "I'm scared, girl."

"I think we all are," Asa agreed. "But have faith in the little guy, okay? I know you have more experience with death than I do (and that's saying something), but Ryota at least isn't going down without a fight."

Ken looked out the window: the sun had completely disappeared beyond the horizon.

"Do you . . . remember your mom?" they asked.

For a second, Asa went quiet on the other end. Ken momentarily wondered if they had crossed a boundary, but just as they were about to apologize, Asa answered them.

"I remember that she was really funny," Asa sighed, "and I remember that she liked to paint. But other than that, not much."

"I see," Ken mumbled. Asa's mother had passed away when she was four - car crash. Since then, her father had been incredibly hard on her to the point where Ken used to see her come to beyclub practice with bruises. She also had to keep her relationship with Litsuko a secret, as she knew her father would most likely disown her if he knew.

"D'you miss her?" Ken asked.

"I mean," Asa said, "I miss what bond I could've had with her. And I miss the kinda person my dad was before she died. But hey, I'm an adult now, and I've other shit to focus on."

"Yeah, I get it," Ken responded. "I dunno, Ryota and Daigo've been integrated into my family at this point."

"Shame their mom doesn't feel the same about you." Asa replied bitterly.

"There's not much I can do about that, is there?" Ken chuckled half-heartedly.