He was going, going gone, like the crazed, sadistic auctioneer of Life sold him off to Death, even though she had bid all her savings, all her love, and all her heart.
But this auctioneer had already made many exceptions by brokering deals with Death to please Hope and Love. Death's end of the bargain just couldn't be delayed any longer.
And there wasn't any sort of compensation for her, despite the huge emotional debt she now had to recover from. No pictures, no forgotten belongings, no nothing. Merely invisible fingerprints, the air he breathed, and residue of memories.
Oh well.
At least there was still Kiba.