Souji was sick.

Sei, always perceptive, knew that something was amiss. He watched concern flicker in her eyes as soon he began to cough, and he had lost count of how many times she mentioned that the color of his skin wasn't quite right…

However.

Was her perception a powerful tool? Absolutely.

Unfortunately, just because she was privy to most things, didn't mean that she knew everything.

For example, she didn't know how difficult and exhausting it was to breathe the moment he took one too many steps, or laughed a little too hard. She didn't know just how many times he had collapsed as soon as he was alone, his lungs on fire and his throat raw. She didn't know about the times in which his chest felt impossibly tight, or the times he reached out in hopes that she was there—

He wished more than anything that she was there.

Sighing, he rolled on his side.

It was selfish. He was selfish. Why the hell hadn't he just forced her out of the troop that fateful night? Why was he so—

A sharp pain in his chest broke his train of thought.

Cough cough.

Trembling, he cupped his hands and covered his mouth.

Wheeze.

Unforgiving crimson stained his hands. He cringed.

Cough cough.

Blood on his hands wasn't anything new, but knowing that it was his blood was frightening.

Wheeze.

The pain was nearly unbearable, but he knew that it wouldn't kill him. No, no, he still had time before that would happen…

—-

The coughing fit ended as abruptly as it had begun.

Souji closed his eyes, appreciating the silence.

As he drifted off to sleep, his body taxed, his mind began to wander.

Visions of her flashed through his mind, and right before he lost consciousness, he realized something…

Death didn't scare him.

Leaving her did.