"Aki." The whisper came again, closer this time, a tangible presence at his side as if he could touch it. The adrenaline that had overridden his weakened state, without a second thought, he had stumbled out of bed, his legs shaky beneath him, driven by a primal need to protect Mei, even in death. Somehow after reaching till Mei's house, he struggled with the gate latch because his fingers were clumsy and unresponsive. He can see those people are almost done.
The chill wasn't just in the night air; it seeped from the wrought iron itself, a cold, indifferent touch against Aki's trembling fingers. He hadn't expected the gate to yield. Instead, it swung inward with an eerie, frictionless silence, spilling him onto the dew-slicked grass within. He stumbled, his frail body barely containing the furnace of grief and burgeoning anger.
