Page 22 of Origin (Deridia #13)

He took a breath.

Hana paused. “That didn’t answer my question,” she reminded him. And it was his turn to reassure. They were in the open, so he couldn’t take her hand. Raise it to his lips. Place a careful kiss to her knuckles and offer her promises that he wanted her. Not while the greys might be looking. Or the blues, for that matter.

Trust none of them. Expect anything to be used against them.

“You can count on it,” Ellion said instead. Held her eye until she ducked her head, cheeks warm and an odd sort of smile at her lips. A strange sort of promise to give, but one that obviously pleased her.

“I will not be easy, mind,” Hana cautioned. “I’ll need some seducing in return.”

She was tormenting him, whether or not it was intentional.

Realisation came slowly. As she moved them closer to the destination. Keeping him distracted in the most fundamental way imaginable. So he couldn’t grow anxious. Couldn’t whisk her away as he’d wanted.

“And I’ll need some promises. Big ones.”

He swallowed, a hint of nerves distracting from her distraction. “Such as?”

She paused, because this was serious. Even if it was offered simply to hold his attention. “That I’m it for you,” Hana explained. Eyes serious. Earnest. “I won’t find you behind a tree somewhere with anyone else. If someone prettier comes off the next dock—”

“Hana,” he interjected, but she shook her head firmly.

“Promises,” she insisted. “Ones that won’t always be easy to keep. But I’ll need them anyway, and I’ll need you to mean them. Because I’ve been lied to before by one I trusted. And it will not happen again.”

She was blinking quickly, and this had dissolved into something far more real than she had intended, and that served as the greatest distraction of them all.

She turned, ready to join the cue for their exams. He didn’t pull her back to him. But he reached out. Touched her back just enough for her to stay still. For him to come up behind and stand as close as he dared. “Anything you want from me,” he swore to her. “Anything you need.” He swallowed, his own throat burning. “And you’re wrong,” he added, because it needed saying. “None of that would be hard to keep to. Not if I got to have you.”

She shifted so she could look at him, blinked rapidly. And for a moment, he thought something had been caught there. To which, he’d be forced to push his way to the front of the line and insist she be seen sooner, because it might be sharp and cause her pain, or it might be some form of liquid with a toxin inside that led to blindness if not diluted quickly enough.

Maybe the washrooms, then. He’d have to fight fewer people for the use of a sink.

Her eyes filled. Spilled.

And they were shimmering with something that looked an awful lot like love.

Which meant, at some point, he’d known what that was.

A relief, short-lived. Because he did not care nearly so much for who might have loved him before. Not so long as the woman in front of him did so. Even if it was small. A drop. A kernel.

But it was there, and he’d said the right thing for once, and from the look she was giving him, he did not doubt she wanted to kiss him. Thoroughly by the looks of it.

It wasn’t the time for it, no matter how much he wished he could be the sort that did not care about consequences. For himself, maybe he didn’t. The risk would be worth her throwing herself at him.

But not for her.

And she came first.

“Don’t be looking at me like that,” Ellion chided. “Not unless you mean to keep me in return.”

She took a half-step forward, and she really was going to do it. Fling herself at him and make him catch her. And there would be no pretending it was a friendly gesture, and were there rules about it, anyway? So what if the man she picked as her escort also happened to be her friend? And also a great deal more?

He took her by the shoulder. Turned her about. Gave her a little nudge toward the line.

But she didn’t move. Stood her ground and waited for him to come back around and look at her. “I’ll keep you and you’ll keep me,” she declared.

And perhaps such declarations were not supposed to be made in front of a drop ship. When they were about to be poked and prodded and he would likely panic about it all, most especially if she was kept out of his sight.

Or if she wasn’t, and she was stripped and so was he, and that view was for the two of them, no matter what medical personnel said about it.

He could be jealous if he wanted to be. Covet what was his. And Hana was more than welcome to feel the same about him. Scowl and grouse if she caught anyone looking too long in his direction.

She wouldn’t, though. He knew that. So perhaps it wasn’t fair of him to want to squirrel her away and keep her to himself.

“Whatever you say, boss,” he promised her, and there was a grin to go along with it, but he hoped she could tell he was perfectly serious. He would do anything for her. Be anything. He leaned forward. And perhaps it was too close if anyone really cared to pay attention to them. But whispers had to be shared in tight proximity. And he watched her eyes flutter closed and her lips slightly part, as if absolutely certain he meant to seal their promises with a kiss.

He wanted it. Desperately so. There was an ache in his chest and a thrill in his heart. “I will keep you,” he swore. “And you will keep me.”

Her eyes opened.

And he was quick about it. Just as she had been so recently. Just a brush of his lips against hers. A sealing.

He took her hand and gave it a squeeze, because she seemed unable to move just yet. He watched her swallow, watched him watching her and then her cheeks flushed as she ducked her head.

“Now who is doing the seduction?” Hana accused, and she managed to scowl quite well at him, and it shouldn’t make him smile. Make him have to struggle to hold back a laugh.

But it did.

“Am I doing a fine job of it?” he asked, nudging her shoulder as she passed him, shaking her head all the while. “I do so like to be praised.”

They were getting too near to the others to keep up their spat. She spun back at him anyway, her hands on her hips, not looking at all as if she was properly seduced, nor as if she was about to overwhelm him with compliments.

But before she could forget herself and give him a public chastisement that she apparently thought was his due, he came up close. Let his lips linger by her ear for just a moment. “Or perhaps it might wait until we’re alone, yes?”

She shivered. The days were growing cooler, but enough to be the source. And it shouldn’t please him so much to know the effect he had on her. That the wanting went both ways.

“You have a very high opinion of yourself,” Hana declared when he stood back and kept a proper distance from her. “Making assumptions like that.” She fussed with her clothing, looking flustered. She would not appreciate his amusement, so he did his best to keep his hidden. A courtesy, one he would likely tell her of later. He might not be allowed into her cot though, depending if her pretence of being cross trespassed into genuine feeling. From the floor then. How he didn’t smirk at her. Didn’t tell her how lovely she was when she tugged at her shirt. How he liked it was mussed because of his touches.

That should earn a kiss, surely.

For being so thoughtful. Well-mannered.

Her scowl suggested he might not have been as successful as he thought, and his smirk turned sheepish as he rubbed at the back of his head. “I would never dare presume,” he offered, hoping to smooth things over between them before it became a quarrel.

She hummed. Turned her back to him. Which, of course, only invited him to come too close and whisper at her again, but he refrained. She’d just promised to keep him, and he would not push too hard and try to rescind it so soon.

The line was quiet, likely induced by the guards that made frequent trips up and down its length. Surely individual groups would have been more efficient, brought in, processed, and then sent out again to work or leisure. But no. A host of people in a long, twining line, the suns keeping out the subtle chill of the day.

It would be miserable in summer. He was not sorry to have missed it.

The only excitement came when the gates opened and the crafts appeared. Their contents were of far greater capacity than when Ellion and Hana had been among them, the bodies crushed, shoulder to shoulder, inside the cages.

“Why did we not have to go?” Ellion asked.

She was very much trying not to watch as the prisoners were removed. Some staggered, others held hands over their eyes while guards insisted they make their way to wash before they stink up the line.

“Because all of them are collected for examination. No need for me to pick and choose.”

He wondered if they’d be returned afterward. If their stint of freedom was short, or if it was a universal reprieve when the ship came.

A way to condition an excitement for its coming, he supposed. For them to be glad for the visitation. Even cooperative.

Whatever they were doing inside did not take so much time that they could despair of the line moving. But he would not pretend it was not a miserable way to spend a day. Too many people were about. If they were alone, he wouldn’t have minded the wait. They’d sit. Talk a little. Of what they hoped, and half of it would be jest, but the rest would be real.

But there was too much tension in it. And he worried about what might happen if they missed a meal, and tempers grew short and muscles would ache, and rebellion would be swift to follow.

He doubted the crew had clubs. There would be other weapons. Befitting the technology they boasted. He could picture it in his hand. The sound of it in his ears.

The feeling in his gut when he used it. Resignation. A hint of dread. And then nothing much at all.

“I should have warned you about this part,” Hana murmured, eyeing him closely. “If it’s any consolation, they bring us something halfway through. If you’re first in line, you don’t get the wait, but you don’t get the snack, either.”

“Ah yes,” Ellion nodded. “Worth it, then.”

She snorted. “Maybe it doesn’t make it entirely worth it, but it’s made in a factory and sealed up in a wrapper, and I will admit that I miss it. They leave a case for me. Part of my perk, you know? And I savour every one of them.”

She could like whatever she wanted. Miss whatever pleased her. But when eventually a couple of blue-dressed individuals walked down the lines, handing out packets of something small and brightly wrapped, he could not fully appreciate the appeal.

Everyone opened theirs as quickly as possible, but he couldn’t be certain if it was a zeal for the contents, or simply to consume it before it could be stolen by a neighbouring hand. He fiddled with his, wondering if he cared to eat it, or if he would stash it away as a gift for Hana. There would be times when she was angry with him and he wouldn’t know how to fix it. It would help to have a treat she favoured to gift as a peace offering.

She unwrapped hers, not quite as quickly as the rest, but with obvious enthusiasm. She had it poised to her lips before she noticed he hadn’t opened his, and she lowered it, frowning. It was shaped like a bar, pressed and formed with unnaturally straight lines. “Going to hoard it, are you?”

He shrugged.

She frowned.

Looked down at it and was obviously considering tucking it back in its wrapper to save as he did.

And he couldn’t have that.

He hadn’t the least idea why it should matter if she was eating and he wasn’t, but it was more than obvious it troubled her. Perhaps it was the idea of sharing her excitement. It was so rare they could eat the same of anything.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” He peeled open the wrapping. Found it shiny and silver inside. Pretty, if strange, that the inside should be adorned as well. “Since this is my only consolation for being here.”

Her eyes brightened, but she waited for him to take the first bite. Sweetness. That was the first—and truly, the only flavour that awaited him. There was texture, which was always exciting given the kitchen’s penchant for purees and gruel. He could not claim familiarity with it. It triggered no memory, no hint of when he might have eaten such a thing last.

But she was waiting for his approval, all expectation, as she took her first bite and could not hide her smile. “Fortified,” she declared, mouth full and not caring in the least. “Healthy.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “You agreed to be liaison just for these. Admit it.”

She took another bite, moaning softly as she closed her eyes to savour it. And the view of that, of her obvious enjoyment, was far more enticing than any factory-made bar.

He wanted it in another context, of course. One that involved very different circumstances and far few clothes between them, but it was a glimpse. A sliver of what might come.

And he wanted it.

He swallowed.

Took another bite.

Because she would reject his offer to let her have the rest of his. Even if he told her the reasons for it, that he wanted to see her just like that again, she’d blush and grow self-conscious, and she’d turn her back and refuse to let him watch any such thing. Might even call him perverse.

But that was courting even further temptation. So he ate, and he made a marginal attempt to appear as if he was enjoying the bar itself more than the view of her enthusiasm.

It did send a murmur through the line afterward before a few taps of clubs against knees suggested they be quiet again. Appreciation, mostly, but there were a smattering of questions about how long this was going to take.

A few made to sit, but they were pulled up again. Lectured about decorum and proper showmanship. Ellion didn’t think that was the correct word, but it was what the translator provided.

It felt an eternity to reach the front, but it must not have been. He’d spent the last hour trying to count out how many came out and how many would go in, wanting to know if he’d be called in the same batch as Hana.

But every time he’d made a decision that he would or wouldn’t, they’d call an extra, or take fewer, and he would start all over again.

“You don’t actually have to be naked,” Hana admitted at last. “So if that’s what you’re fretting about, you needn’t.”

He swallowed. It hadn’t been, and he hadn’t actually thought she was serious, but now it made him question.

“I mean, there is a part that includes a visual inspection, but it’s with a bot rather than a person. And you’re behind a screen. Not everything is on display for everybody.”

She shuddered, as if the very prospect was one of the worst possibilities she could imagine. There were worse. What if it wasn’t the pod that had malfunctioned, but one of their scanners? And instead of taking an accurate image of his insides, it had burned away his memories, his personhood?

And what exactly was going to stop it from happening again?

To Hana?

No, he decided. That was the worst prospect of all. That she wouldn’t remember him. Their promises. He’d come to her cot, and she’d be frightened of him. No more easy camaraderie, no more friendship. Belonging to each other.

He rubbed a hand at the back of his neck. He was working himself up. He knew that. But once it started, he wasn’t quite sure how to stop.

Not true.

Hana had showed him how. Spill it all out. Let her work out the bits and pieces that were real. Rational. Set aside the rest.

But they were to be quiet, and he needed to not be on the verge of a panic when they were called.

“We’re going to go in,” he told her. Told himself. “And at the end of it, you will remember me, and I will remember you, and we’re going to supper together.”

Hana’s worry turned to understanding, and she nudged him with her shoulder. Friendly. Fond. “That’s right,” she agreed.

No, she promised.

Which was another one. They were full of them today, but he didn’t mind. They were needed. He craved to coax out more from her. Even the foolish, fantastical ones far beyond their control.

“Three,” a blue woman with a data pad called.

He relaxed. Same group.

She smiled at them as they approached and ushered them into rooms. He hadn’t expected that. They were small. Far too white. With bright lights that felt even more unnatural since he was used to flickering flame and sunlight rather than artificial illumination. There was a bed covered in some sort of membrane, and he had no particular desire to sit down on it.

The door opened behind him. “The room is cleansed between patients. You can undress and lay down on the table without concern.”

A bot. With a face mimicking a smile with pixels, even though the voice did not share the emotion.

He wanted to punch it.

Didn’t.

Something whispered that bots often recorded their every interaction. That Hana was wrong to assume they were given privacy. He was glad he hadn’t told her. Let her be more comfortable thinking she was truly alone. That no one would ever watch the footage, whether for their genuine wellbeing or otherwise.

Shirt first. Then his boots. The trousers.

As unexciting an undressing as he could have imagined.

Yet his hands shook, and it shamed him. Nothing was wrong. Hana was on the other side of the wall, and she would be pliant and uncomplaining, and she’d be done before him if he wasn’t careful. And there would be others outside who might take her medicines, and he’d have no way of getting them back without resorting to some unpleasantness.

Which would make her cross.

He took a breath. Pushed at his clothes with his foot so the bot didn’t roll over them. Gummed up mechanics would delay matters. He would be a model patient. Even if he wanted to crawl out of his skin at the moment. Wanted to do pretty much anything rather than lie down on the cot waiting for him.

“Lie down, please. Front to table to start, please.”

He took a moment, trying to process what it meant. “Lie down on your stomach, please,” it tried again, and Ellion suppressed a grumble. It should have said that from the start. And stop saying please after every instruction. A malfunction, to be sure. Any flesh and bone person would know how unnatural it sounded. Even unnerving.

Which meant it was a defective bot, and it was going to diagnose him with every horrible disease possible, which meant he’d be there for treatment for an eternity.

“Your distress is unnecessary,” the bot continued. “It will provide an inaccurate reading of your vitals. Please calm yourself.” It waited, obviously expecting Ellion to simply quiet his breath and his heart because he’d been asked to do so. “Would you like a song?” It asked.

He blinked. “What?”

“Music has been shown to provide a calming effect on biologicals. I am programmed with over five thousand different offerings, if you should like to select one.”

Ellion merely stared, which seemed to be an invitation for the bot to continue. “If the selection includes crass or crude language, an instrumental variety will be supplied instead.”

As if that was the problem.

“Just get on with things,” Ellion urged, wondering why it felt wrong to be rude to a few mechanical gears and a shiny interface.

“You have not yet calmed yourself,” the bot insisted. “If you are unable to make a selection, would you like me to choose one for you?”

Anything to get this examination over with. “Yes.” No please, because the bot was providing enough for the both of them.

“Very well.”

A slight whir, which was replaced with a gentle melody. If some part of his mind recognised it, there was no indication. But it was nice enough. Gentle. With an undertone that pricked at the anxious parts of him and tugged insistently. Breathe, it urged. Which he did.

Which somehow made him more aware of the awkwardness of standing there naked, and he really should sit down. Lie down. Get this over with.

He relaxed his hands. His shoulders.

Sat on the cot with the strange membrane. It felt like nothing. No, not nothing. Cooling. But when he lifted his hand and looked at it, there was no remaining residue. No sticky coating that would need to be scrubbed off in the washroom afterward.

“Lie down, please,” the bot reminded him.

“I’m getting there,” Ellion groused. Hana wouldn’t do that. She’d comply quickly and efficiently. No trouble for anybody.

Why couldn’t he do that?

Because his body felt like someone else’s. That I took every bit of him to get it to quiet, to calm. To stop its urgency to fight. To find someone, something, to smash it, crush it, leave it as jumbled and broken as he felt.

And that was wrong. Wasn’t it?

Hana would give him a look. The one that said the answer was obvious, and he knew better. And why was he dwelling on things like that, anyway?

It was easier when she was close to him. Made him want to be different. To behave in a manner she could be proud of. Be someone she wanted to be with. Tie herself to.

Another breath.

He lay back.

The bot moved closer. “The instructions were to begin on your stomach. Turn over, please.”

Ellion did not bother to try suppressing his eye roll. It felt even more awkward. Like it would be harder to spring into action if necessary. He glanced down for any sign of restraints, fully intending to charge from the bed if he found any.

Which would delay matters. Would make them pin him down and complete the examination, regardless.

He wanted to close his eyes, his head pounding along with his pulse. But he couldn’t do that. He was vulnerable enough. Couldn’t sacrifice any of his senses.

“This will not hurt,” it assured him, as if that was the concern. Maybe it should have been. His throat had felt like fire the last time he was in a place like this.

But there was only a blue light that emitted from its hand. It waved it over him slowly. Not touching, but scanning. Looking inside and out.

Invasive, if Ellion let himself think about it. Recorded somewhere. His condition , available for anyone to look over that had clearance to access the file.

It disgusted him. Made him want to hurl insults at the unsuspecting bot.

But he didn’t.

Because that would cause trouble, which would lead to a confrontation, and wasn’t that the first of Hana’s rules? The ones to keep him safe. Keep him with her.

He focused on the song instead. Was this the one she would have hummed when he pulled him into a dance? Probably not. But it was the only one he’d know, and while he did not relish the thought of it coming from such a source, at least he could contribute something to her as well. If she was sad. Spiralling. He could pull her close. Threaten her with a song. Give her another sort of dance for the two of them.

“If you keep still, this will be over more quickly.”

“I have to breathe,” Ellion reminded it. Or maybe his fingers had been twitching? He balled them into fists to keep them in line. Focused on shallow breaths that would keep his back from moving, because this really was tedious. And no over-sweet bar was going to make up for it.

Knowing Hana was healthy, might.

“You may turn over.”

He complied. Didn’t even say something snarky as he did. Most especially not about how the bot should sneak him a few of those bars if he was going to get so close to Ellion’s goods.

He kept those thoughts to himself. Focused on his breathing. On the feel of Hana in his arms. Of humming into her ear. Of moving with her, sometimes in a dance, sometimes in other ways.

She’d have a soft smile on her face. Would reach for him. Cup his cheek. He’d kiss her palm.

“Arousal is a natural response to stress. You should not be ashamed of it.”

What engineer thought that was a necessary response was an idiot. “It’s polite not to mention those things,” Ellion insisted. He hadn’t intended to go so far in his thoughts, but it was natural . Not in the way the bot meant, but because they tumbled after each other. Touches. Kisses. The more they’d danced about but hadn’t dared to attempt.

Because they still did not have a spot of their own. Somewhere quiet and safe. Private.

He suppressed a groan, and he did briefly close his eyes. “My apologies,” the bot offered. The scan wasn’t warm, not exactly. But his skin was aware of where it passed. Not quite a prickle. A tingle? Where the tiny hairs pulled to meet it. Down his abdomen. Hovering over the parts of him, he willed to stand down. His legs.

“There are no obvious signs of disease,” the bot declared. “Or defect. You are an unremarkable male.”

Ellion snorted. “You sweet talker.”

“My apologies,” the bot repeated. “It was not my attempt to make you uncomfortable with familiarity. If you would like to make a report regarding my programming, you may do so.”

Ellion blew out a full breath. He did not need to argue with a robot. Or placate or pacify. “I was joking,” he explained, refusing to give more than that.

“Ah. My apologies,” it said again, and Ellion really was going to punch it.

No, he wasn’t.

Wouldn’t lay a finger on it. Because that would mean trouble, and he didn’t need any of that.

“If you would place this on your left fore-digit, please. It will monitor your vitals for the duration of your visit.” It was a ring. As shiny as the rest of the craft. Over-large, which mattered little, because once he slipped it past his knuckle it cinched tight.

Which was nothing to be alarmed over. It had to do that. And they’d take it off again when it was time, and they most certainly would not have to remove a finger because it malfunctioned and was slowly cutting off his circulation.

“You may return your clothing to their normal state. There are no lesions that require the doctor’s attention. I will leave you now, unless you require more musical relaxation?”

It was already rolling toward the door. Ellion didn’t know if it could make an offer while hoping it would be refused, but that was certainly the impression he got. “I’m fine.”

“Excellent. The wait should not be long. If you grow anxious, please knock on the door and someone will attend to you. There is no need to panic.”

Which was not at all the sort of thing you said to a person. Not if you didn’t want them to grow alarmed when the door shut. Clicked.

Which was just a latch. He wasn’t locked in a windowless box of blinding white. There certainly were not cameras in the corners, watching his every move.

He didn’t allow himself to check. Which was progress, he thought. The compulsion was there. Insistently tugging at him that it wasn’t safe, that he must dismantle them—and quickly. They’d already seen his examination.

But no, that wasn’t rational. He already knew that. Bots recorded more than they let on.

There was no need to panic now. He would not scale the walls. Remove the shiny white panels that made up the walls, searching out conduit and signs of surveillance.

He was dressing. Because he didn’t know how long a not too long wait might be, and he would rather endure it fully clothed.

Would they see him first, or Hana? It didn’t matter. Shouldn’t matter.

It was outside his control, and he had only to sit and take deep, full breaths.

Because the door wasn’t locked and he wasn’t trapped, and he’d only to knock.

Not open the door.

Not because it wouldn’t open, because it would. But because they wanted to ensure the privacy of all their patients, and wandering the halls and maybe even intruding on a neighbouring door would be a breach of protocol.

Reasonable.

Preferable, in fact.

He glanced down at the ring on his finger. The one that was most definitely not going to amputate the digit.

Hana would wear one. She might even fiddle with it. See if she could twist it around. Had she worn such things before? Little adornments.

He had nothing like that to offer her here. No gift. Which she would understand. But the impulse was there. Buried. From a lifetime ago. Give a gift to the one you loved. Something pretty. As pretty as he was.

Another breath.

He nearly lay back down on the cot. His head hurt. Hurt more often than it didn’t. But his heart was calming, just as it often did when he filled his head with her. A smile. The way the suns glittered in her hair. The way the ridges of her nose crinkled when she looked at him a certain way.

What were they going to do? He wanted a life with her. A full one. One where they weren’t sharing a too-small cot, so he often slept on the floor beside her so she could stretch out properly.

He wanted a home. Not a cupboard. But somewhere they could be together. Intimately, yes. And he was most certainly looking forward to that. It was more than that, though. Somewhere just for them. Where he could be sure of her safety. Where he’d find her bustling and dusting as she did to the office. Only the things would be hers, and he would have got them for her. Gifts brought and treasured decorating their shared space.

It was all nonsense, of course. Another fantasy to tuck away and bring out when it suited him.

But this one made his chest hurt. Made him ache in ways that were unfamiliar. Longing, he supposed. Something he wanted badly, and could not hope to attain.

The walls were insulated. He suspected it, because there was a ringing in his ears, the silence was so pronounced. It abated only briefly when the door opened and there were sounds of tapping. Footsteps. People working beyond the small room. Murmured voices.

Then they were gone again as the door closed, and it was back to a muffled sort of quiet.

A doctor and a bot came through, the doctor making a great show of applying a membrane over their hands, the liquid solidifying quickly. “I hear you are in excellent health,” the doctor began, sitting on a low stool. Too low, because it made Ellion have to look slightly downward to meet her eye.

“If you say so.”

No record of his memory loss, then. He shouldn’t be surprised.

“Do you say so?” she pressed. “A body is more than a few scans and vitals. How are you doing here?”

She looked so earnest as she looked at him. As if she would really listen. If he told her of his headaches, her brow would furrow. She’d shake her head and say it shouldn’t be like that. Maybe even do a more thorough scan of his head. Find a defect to explain where his memories had gone.

Fix him.

And that’s what he wanted, wasn’t it?

It was a risk. He could see that now. Telling them the truth. Being listened to. For compassion to lead to tests, and then, if he couldn’t be patched up and fixed after all, perhaps his case would be taken back to the court for review.

He’d go home.

Wherever that was.

To whoever was waiting for him.

If such a person existed at all.

And that should matter, shouldn’t it? The prospect alone should be enough to pour out the whole wretched tale. To ask for care and consideration, and hope that she would be merciful. Take him seriously.

Not staunch his wounds and chuck him out.

Hana couldn’t come.

That echoed loudest.

He’d be on his own.

No, even worse. He’d be abandoning her. Saving his own skin. Looking out for his best interests.

And opening up the possibility of leaving her behind.