Suzuya tiptoes into the hospital room. Fresh flowers from Touka sit on the bed, and from others, too, apparently. A dozen bouquets decorate the room of the only father he’s ever really known.
Mrs. Shinohara extends her hand to him. The rest of their kids sit there, too – older now, but still kids.
Suzuya feels Hanbee and his squad’s presence behind him, and tears prick his eyes. “Is he…”
“He’s still here,” Mrs. Shinohara says quickly. “For now. With the infection…they’ll be removing life support very soon. I’ve signed the forms.”
Her voice breaks at the end, because she’s been losing her husband and hope for the last few years, and she wants just one more moment with him awake, and now she won’t get it.
Suzuya steps closer to the bed, watching Shinohara’s chest rise and fall. Tears run down his cheeks, but he feels otherwise numb as nurses enter the room.
Suzuya leans over suddenly, desperate to plant one last kiss on Mr. Shinohara’s cheek while he’s still alive.
Mrs. Shinohara holds her husband’s hand, and his kids gather around. Some are stoic; some weeping.
Suzuya wants to close his eyes, but he can’t. It feels like a betrayal of Shinohara. A lump emerges in his throat, threatening to strangle him, to take him with Mr. Shinohara.
But Suzuya keeps his eyes open as Mr. Shinohara slips into what lies beyond. He hopes it’s heaven.
Mercy and Magic 