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Chapter 8 - Memories of Toma (short)

The hospital room was quiet.

Too quiet.

Yujiro sat upright in bed, arm strapped in a sling, ribs wrapped in white bandages. His body throbbed with dull pain, but it was distant. His ears rang—not from the fight, but from the silence Toma had left behind.

Outside the window, the world continued.

Cars. Lights. Wind.

But it all felt fake.

Because Toma was gone.

The door creaked open.

Miss Maru stepped in, carrying a tray. Soup. Water. Bandages.

Yujiro didn't move.

She set the tray down gently. "You need to eat."

Nothing.

She sat beside him. "He saved another child. That's what he wanted, Yujiro. He chose that."

"I didn't choose to lose him."

His voice was barely above a whisper.

"I didn't let him die. I failed to stop it."

That night, sleep didn't come.

Yujiro stared at the ceiling.

And remembered.

Toma handing him that stupid towel every time he trained too hard.

Toma talking about comics, about girls, about food, about everything Yujiro didn't care about… but listened to anyway.

Toma sitting beside him on the roof.

"I'll watch your back," he once said. "Even if I can't fight."

Yujiro turned on his side.

Pressed his forehead against the wall.

Silent.

Still.

Two days later, they gave him Toma's scarf.

It smelled faintly of the orphanage. Of rain.

Yujiro stared at it.

Then tied it around his wrist.

He didn't cry.

He didn't scream.

He trained.

Harder.

Longer.

More vicious.

He began talking to no one.

To the air.

To the memories.

To Toma.

"Next time," he said, "I'll be fast enough."

His voice cracked. Just once.

Then he struck the wall with such force, it split.

Miss Maru found a small note tucked under Yujiro's bed.

A drawing. Messy, but clear.

Two stick figures. One with spiky hair. The other with a headband.

They stood in front of a training dummy.

At the top, in Toma's handwriting:

"Hanama & Toma: Future Heroes. (Even if one of us punches more)"

She placed it on his pillow.

Yujiro didn't say a word when he saw it.

He just sat beside it.

Back to the wall.

Eyes closed.

And whispered, "You still watch my back… don't you?"

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