When Ash opened his eyes, he knew he shouldn't have. He had died before, but this time, it had been supposed to be final.
In spite of his death, in spite of the questions burning in his skull, he thought of Eiji, always of him. Was he back in Japan now, out of his reach? Ash stared up at the ceiling, faintly aware of the numbness, the immediate absence of pain. It wasn't right, to have to keep going after all when there was nothing left holding him here.
How was he alive? He had escaped his fate so many times that for sure he had thought it had at last caught up to him. He had stopped running after all. He had embraced the finality of their goodbye, right there in the hospital. Not at first, of course, but eventually. There was just so much he could do to justify the pain he had caused. He deserved what was coming to him. After killing for all his life and dirtying his hands, ruining lives and families in exchange for yet another chance to wake the next morning, he deserved to be cut down, stabbed.
Sing's brother, Lao. Ash had thought he would wind up being the last person he would kill in his life. He had thought it would be just, to find his end after that.
The room was dark, but Ash knew he wasn't alone. He turned his head to find a figure slumped in the chair next to where he was resting; slim, short hair, Asian.
Ash recognized Sing, but he couldn't feel happy nor sad about it. He accepted that he had lived. He didn't dare hope it meant he had another chance at life, however. His luck was bound to run out, and he figured this might be the exact moment that it did.
The plane ticket that Eiji had given him, it had made his heart flutter. He had wished for a different life, to join him on that plane and visit Japan, just like Eiji had wished for him. And the letter had made Ash believe that, maybe, there was a chance of it happening, of Eiji and him, together. What a foolish dream.
But still, Ash wanted it.
He managed to lift his arm, was terribly inconvenienced by how heavy it was. He reached for his side where the blade had sunken into him, and he prodded lightly. Yes, Ash was under the influence of painkillers, of other drugs too, and there was an IV drip pumping chemicals into his bloodstream. But, he still felt that the wound was as deep as he had thought initially. By all accounts, he should have died.
Ash looked at the sleeping Sing, past him, out the window. New York's lights were as vibrant as ever, but they seemed so much more empty now that Eiji was no longer here. This place, Ash's backyard, had lost all meaning to him. It didn't make much of a difference anymore whether he lived or died. Except... Except, he wanted-
"Eiji..." The lights blurred as Ash's eyes filled with tears. He wanted to see him again.
His last wish, to die in Eiji's place, had remained unfulfilled. Maybe this time, he prayed, the Gods would listen to his plea and allow him this one thing, this one desire.
Sing shifted next to him, but by the time he spoke Ash's name, Ash had already fallen unconscious again. He still hadn't given up hope, despite everything.
Maybe, in the end, nothing at all had changed.