Calling
Sano's calling for you, they say. They found him bleeding into the ground and dying. He's still calling for you. He wants to see you one last time.
You enter the room that smells of herbal medicine and cloth bandages. You are used to the smell because you are usually surrounded by it.
And blood. The scent of coppery blood hits you as you near him, his body wrapped in those same bandages. They cover him.
"I still love you," he says, almost bitterly as he smiles.
You turn away, and later cry, because you still love him too.
