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It took everything for Koga to move.
A million questions surged through his head—clawing at his throat and threatening to escape through choked sobs, but none were proper enough to verbalize.
Koga barely kept his hands from trembling as he hoisted the injured praetor up in his arms. He recklessly ran through the ongoing battlefield, the clanging of weapons against each other and the smell of sulfur further overwhelming his acute senses. Still, he remained careful not to cause further damage to the body, even keeping the blade impaled in hopes of lessening the bleeding. If Koga would ever add more to the…
No. No way. He shouldn’t be thinking about this. Right now, apprehending the rising guilt in his chest shouldn’t be his first priority. Koga has no time for questions and unnecessary thinking—only for answers he would personally go through hell and back just to prove true.
“All of you—scram!” Koga burst through the medical tent, barely giving its other occupants a glance as golden eyes frantically searched for a flat surface. “And Hasumi. Your best healer, now!”
“But Oogami—” Emeralds behind slightly cracked lenses widened at the figure rushing past him, soon fixing themselves on the demigod in his arms. “Is that—”
“I don’t have time for yer yappin’! Get me your best healer, NOW!”
Without looking back to see if the other praetor followed his orders, Koga scavenged through the nearby cabinets. Ambrosia was the easiest to find; Koga took a large chunk and wordlessly shoved it into Rei’s mouth before going back to his search. He found nectar, tools he couldn’t bother identifying as surgical or otherwise, and rainbow-colored vials that Koga definitely did not have the time to try out without risking Rei’s already fading consciousness.
Koga was in no way associated with the known deities of death, but he could literally feel Rei’s life slipping with every second he spent untreated. The praetor’s face paled at every glance Koga took, and the darkening pool of blood provided no comfort as he continued to rummage through Camp Jupiter’s supplies. The demigods rushing past him to accommodate other patients didn’t dare point out the golden sword sticking out of their leader’s abdomen, nor did someone voice out the lack of weapons on Koga’s person.
Keito returned with what Koga hoped to be the healers he demanded earlier. They shared a look before the younger went back to making a mess out of the Romans’ supplies as the summoned demigods divided themselves into two groups to better tend to their injured leader.
They worked quite harmoniously for the first few minutes. Keito left the group right after, taking charge at the frontline of Camp Jupiter’s defenses in Rei’s absence. The summoned healers prepared their tools—bandages, tape, and the surgical equipment Koga disregarded earlier. As for the said Greek demigod…
“For fuck’s sake! A camp filled with hundreds of demigods ‘n none of y’all got the brain to keep a fuckin’ book ‘bout medicinal plants!?” Koga slammed his fist on a nearby table, startling a couple of healers right next to him.
This pisses him off! Why did Rei have to… Why couldn’t he have gotten a better grip on senses at times like these!? Any other day, Koga would have been able to smell that damn vampire bastard miles away, so why did it have to fail now!? He was so determined on sticking that piss-colored stick right up that giant’s ass for what he did to Hinata that he didn’t notice that Rei was nearby. If he was more—if Koga was more in control of his senses and didn’t jump at the first noise behind him, Rei would be—
“Koga…” came his partner’s timid plea. His ruthless stream of thoughts silenced themselves. Koga instantly came to his side, his face turned away for Rei not to see more of his frustrated expression.
The roars from the battlefield and the shuffling of tools and other medical appliances became muddled. It’s just the two of them now—with Koga’s bottom lip trembling and Rei’s cold hand struggling to reach his face.
Icy fingertips managed to brush his cheek. Koga brought one shaky hand to hold his praetor’s palm against it.
“Vampire bas… Praetor, I—”
“Goodness, Koga. Must you really call me by that title now after everything we’ve been through?” Yes. Yes, Koga should. Shouldn’t; Koga recognized no leader. He’s a lone wolf. But he should, even if it went against his beliefs, especially now that Rei…
“Koga, please. Is this how you treat your lover on his deathbed?”
“I’m not havin’ you die on me, you shitty vampire!” Koga gathered up the courage to finally look at him and felt himself crumble at the sight. Thin, pale lips offered a small smile, but even that couldn’t distract him from the harsh reality.
The esteemed praetor of New Rome now laid on his back, his face devoid of life, body slowly turning to ash, and dull rubies baring his flickering soul at him—all caused by one rash decision. Guilt forced a sob to escape his throat; loud, guttural, and ugly.
“Please… I’ll do anything! I’ll get us to Delos, I’ll find that Asclepius guy, I’ll even create a make-do cure to bring ya to life—I’ll do anything, so please—don’t you dare die on me, Rei Sakuma! I won’t let you!”
Denying the inevitable was futile. They both knew that being impaled by an enchanted blade unique to demigods was rarely treatable, even with the help of many descendants of the gods of medicine. Even so, Koga’s grip on his hand remained tight, insisting on keeping Rei’s soul on this moral vessel.
“You’ll do anything, you say?” Yes, gods, yes, Koga whispered, bringing the dying hand to his lips as if warming it with his own breath.
“Then, please live a fruitful life.”
Citrines widened in alarm. Cries filled the air, with Koga draping himself over Rei’s body, dignity set aside to plead his wish to the Fates and make them listen to him just this once.
“I await you in Elysium, my love.”