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Summary
“Shouyo, I can’t,” Kenma says urgently. There’s a hard lump in his throat and for a moment he’s terrified he’s going to start coughing again, but—no, this time it’s just his emotions. “I have to let him go. I have to let what we had go. Please. I’m so tired. Can’t you see how tired I am?”
Shouyo looks like he’s going to cry. He tucks Kenma’s loose bangs back behind his ears.
“I know, Kenma,” he says. “I know you are.”
“Kozume-san,” the doctor says quietly. “You have six months to decide. You don’t have to commit to anything now. Just think about which would be…more bearable, in the long run.”
It’s both the kindest and cruelest thing he could say, but then, what else does one say to a hanahaki patient nearing his terminal stages?