Almost shot through the heart, huh.

That was rather ironic to think about: he had survived many potentially lethal deals in a shady back alley to finance his sister's happiness, and yet this would be the end of him. What an ironic ending to his life. It was by saving someone else from death that he granted it upon himself once and for all.

This person he had saved was clutching him against her chest with little consideration to how much he was bleeding out. It was heart-breaking in such a selfish way: he didn't want the last moments he'd see her to be so sad and painful for her. He had never wanted to see her cry and especially not because of him.

He wished he could tell her not to weep over him, that'd it be okay. After all, she called for an ambulance as soon as she realized he had been shot: she had done what she could already. There was no reason for her to feel bad about something he had decided to do for her sake: he had never been forced to do so, he simply wanted to save her. Ema's life, in a moment, mattered much more than his. It still did then: he was actively dying now, and she was alive, safe and sound, albeit miserable. No matter which way he tried to see it as, it was still better than letting her get shot. Would it have gotten her, she would have been killed on the spot.

Bleeding out to death was a weird way to go. In a day and age of instant demises, of lives ending shorter than they got conceived, it was surprising to him that he had been given the time to see Ema's sorrow over his incoming end and to reflect on his own life. Not that there was much to say about it before his parents had died: afterwards, it had been day-to-day survival, switching between school and back-alley jobs he could never be proud of having done, all for Aoi's smile which slowly disappeared because he hadn't given her the attention she deserved. Ah, Aoi…

"Ema, can… Can I ask you something…?" His voice was groggy and struggling to escape from his throat, as if caught inside by a spider's sticky and tricky web. It was exhausting to even speak, but he had to do this for Aoi's sake.

"O-of course…" Her own voice was hesitant, almost wishing not to exist. Through his blurry vision, he could still she was turning away from him, pinching her lip, a tear running down her cheek. Would he have the strength to do so, he would have landed her his handkerchief for her to brush away her tears.

"Can you promise me to watch over Aoi for me… Please…?"

His demand was split in the middle by blood pouring out of his mouth. His lung had been touched. Her own face looked like it had been split apart by it.

"O-of course I will…"

Ema seemed very unsure of her promise, as if doubting her certitude to assure it. Now this was more worrisome… However, that might have been because of how upset she was.

Still reassured to hear her agree to it, he swallowed back more of the blood he coughed out. The bullet had lodged itself inside his left lung, near his heart that was beating three times too quickly, and yet his pulse was weakening by the moment. His body didn't know where to go while he was somewhat at a peace of mind: all he needed to do was to make sure Ema and Aoi were both safe. He had saved the former from getting mortally shot: she would take care of the latter. He could sense Aoi had a fondness for the cyberhuntress already, it would only be a question of time.

"By the way… You can get my flat…." He added to make sure they would live perfectly fine when he'd be gone.

Ah, he was still fairly young to die, now that he thought about it. Dying at twenty-six wasn't exactly going very far in ages where the average life expectancy was around ninety years of age. Oh well, it was too late to regret doing this. A hand on the dampness that had become this suit he felt like he always wore, it was time to even think back on everything, but his mind blanked. They said your entire life flashed before your eyes before you died, but his never came back to unfold itself again to him. Instead, all he could see was a blurry rendition of Ema's sorrowful face.

It was as though seeing her so torn over his demise was what prevented him from exhaling his last breath. He didn't want to die, far from it: he at least wanted to see Aoi become an adult, date a boy or a girl he would be overly suspicious about like a strict father only to warm up to them when he'd see how much they cared about his sister, graduate college and go on to have a life he hoped would be even more successful than his. He wanted to make sure she wouldn't become like him: a workaholic figure that should have been there and wasn't, who would come home late and get scolded by his own hired huntress for running himself to the ground. He wanted to see his sister become a great woman, to see her continue doing what she wanted, to save the world like she was already doing with Soulburner and Playmaker.

And he wouldn't be there to see it, and it broke his heart to even think about.

He would miss Aoi for sure, but he would also miss Ema and her cheeky smile. They had known each other for years, meeting through the Internet like so many people did around him. He didn't want to see her go anytime soon, thus why he continued hiring her to the very day he was shot and killed. He simply didn't expect today to be that day, and that she'd cry over him. For such an independent woman who disposed of data that could ruin people's lives like she'd give out papers in the streets for some association or other motive, she was incredibly emotional and shaken by it. He'd have thought death didn't affect very much and that he was, to her eyes, yet another hirer, yet another temporary boss.

Ema was who he wasn't, and he loved her for this. Her mischievous spirit was always amusing to see in action, always coming up with new ways to trick others into fulfilling her objectives. It was this capacity to always have the upper hand over others that fascinated him at first. He had eventually grown to appreciate most aspects of her: her smile, her winks, her sisterly instincts about Aoi. He knew he could trust in her when everyone else would have dismissed her as shady and traitorous. It was more complex than that: she chose who she was loyal to, and he was lucky enough that she was loyal to Aoi and him.

He didn't want to see Ema go. If he could, he would have selfishly made it so she would remain with him until he gave out his last breath, but he was still aware help was coming. The scent of her flowery perfume was the only thing keeping him from gagging over the stench his blood constituted in his nose, a smell of copper and iron fought against by the spice of flowers that simply matched her personality perfectly. Maybe he actually was in love with her. Well, why the maybe? He was in love with this cyber Amazon, completely infatuated with everything she was; and he was lucky enough to be dying in her arms and not anyone else's.

He never thought he'd see her cry over someone's death. It just didn't seem like an "Ema thing" to do. At best, he was hoping she would ask him how he was seeing his hand covered in red, but instead she caught him in his fall and gently laid him on the ground. This was awfully considerate of her: most people he had worked with before would have run away for their lives instead, either fearing losing it directly or losing their freedom by getting involved in a murder. At least, he knew she would watch over Ema for him once he'd be dead, which was just waiting any second to finally decide itself to happen. He didn't want to die now, but if he had to… then be it.

"Akira…?" Ema asked him, voice full of uncertainties and hiccups.

"Yes…?"

"Why did you do that, you fool?!"

Oh. There was this question again. She had asked him before, but he had been unable to reply because of blood getting out of his system. The haemorrhage still hadn't stopped: he didn't expect it to. The burning pain in his chest was quieting down because his senses were failing on him one by one.

"Obvious… To save you…"

"And why that…?" The newfound fervour in her voice was gone again, much to his chagrin.

"Because I…"

It wouldn't get out. He was still timid to tell her. It'd make us feel worse anyway, would it not? She'd understand it was also personal between them. He didn't want her to get any strings attached to him in his last moments. That would be a heartless thing to do.

"I wanted to… see your smile again…"

Before she could properly hear him, his voice dimming down and eventually dying out, sirens had filled the scenery and so had red and blue lights, blinding him and hiding her. He'd never know if she ever heard him or if she had ever known of the true nature of their relationship to him. He'd never seen her smile again, or Aoi and her grow close, or even Aoi grow up and become an adult. His life had never flashed before his eyes: it was for the better, because this way he could hope to watch over them from the potential plane that was the afterlife.

Oh, how ironic of him to hope such a place existed now that he was on the verge of dying!

His vision turned black before he could hear Ema scream for his name, repressing back a sorrow before fully letting herself sulk down into despair.

When he opened his eyes, everything was white around him. Was that the afterlife so many religions professed the existence of. Maybe. That wouldn't be the first time he'd be proven to be wrong, after all. Everything felt toned down: his sight was blurry, he could barely hear anything that wasn't his own laboured breathing (or was it? Did people still breathe in the afterlife? Wasn't that just a necessity of the body?), and his sense of touch was numbed. If afterlife started by not being able to move, then perhaps it would have been better not to access it.

It took him a few minutes to fully realize he was, against all odds, still alive and simply under sedatives. The blood loss he must have suffered was massive considering how slow he felt, as if every part of his body was made out of the heaviest metal. Moving anything seemed to be an egregious effort. Well, it was already a surprise that he was alive, he couldn't be too capricious about how he wanted to make it out of there alive. He supposed he still had time to write his will, after all. Maybe he should do that as soon as possible since he had so nearly avoided death today. Or was it even today?

The surrounding sounds were extremely mechanical: if he had to guess, he'd say there were a heart monitor, a machine helping with his breathing and an IV dripping. The contents? Most certainly blood, perhaps other nutrients. He was too numb to know if he had one or two pipes inserted inside his wrists. A voice soon enough came to his ears, a bit cottoned down but still a relief to hear again.

"Big brother, you're awake…!"

Aoi's timid voice was filled with a relief he had never heard coming from her. He had scared her too… But she was there, her hand on his, fingers enlaced in his, a heat he could progressively feel. Ah, he had missed his sister so much in so little time.

There was another hand, this time on his forehead. After giving his dear Aoi the slightest smile (yet the only one he was able to give her at the moment), he lightly tilted his head to the left to see Ema's eyes and face washed away in relief, dried trails on her cheeks, but with a smile he could only guess was heartfelt. The weight that had been on his chest since a time he didn't know how to estimate had lifted as soon as he saw it through his weakened state and senses. He had missed it dearly too.

"Don't ever do that again… You scared the shit out of us both!"

Her scold had this gentler tone to it, a tone that didn't want to truly scold him away, as if gently reminding him not to almost die in her arms again. He'd miss them both too much to do so once more anyway.

The last thing before Morpheus's arms came back to pick him up was her emotional smile and tears of joy, reminding me of how much he wanted to keep seeing her, to keep hiring her until he would find the bravery to tell her that he truly loved her as more than an efficient treasure huntress. Perhaps he could, one day, make of the three of them a complete family.

But for now, needless to say, it was time to give himself a way to sleep the weakness off.