The pain in Lemo's left shoulder made getting up from his bed feel like a grand military operation."Ugh... ack... ack..."The old man clenched his teeth as the tremor from his cough stabbed deep into the healing wound like a nail hammered through his flesh.
"Damn it..."He slowly turned on his side, then pushed himself up with his right arm. The sleeping bags around the room were already packed away—looked like the kids were all downstairs.
"You're awake, Mr. Lemo. I'll make you some coffee," Mari's cheerful voice called from the kitchen area.
"Thanks, Mari."Lemo walked over with an uneven gait, like a man whose legs had forgotten how to cooperate. Gunsuke was already sitting at the table, waiting.
"How's the wound?" Gunsuke asked from across the table.
"Better. Still stiff though."
"We talked... about your illness."
"You don't need to worry about me, kid." Lemo gave a crooked smile. "Sophia said I'll be good as new in three days."
"I meant the cancer."
Gunsuke's words hit like a hammer. Lemo's face paled, a sheen of sweat rising despite the morning chill.
"She told you?" he whispered.
"Yes. We all know. You're dying, Lemo," Gunsuke said bluntly. "And we're going to help you."
"Don't worry about me, son. That doctor might be wrong. Maybe I'll live to be a hundred. Heh..." Lemo forced a laugh, but a hacking cough cut it short—dry and violent, undermining his attempt at humor.
"I'm not laughing," Gunsuke replied flatly. "This morning, I sent Molly to scout Normington Hospital with the drone—"
"It's crawling with zombies," Lemo cut him off, locking eyes with him. "Do you really think I don't want to live? But I can't let you risk your lives for me."
The weight in Lemo's voice silenced Gunsuke. Of course he'd already scouted the hospital—Lemo had probably checked every surveillance feed before anyone even thought of the idea.
"Look at them," Lemo said, nodding toward the kids outside, the sounds of target practice echoing faintly through the window. "Those girls... they have a future on this damned planet. More than some old man like me ever will."
"I get that. But the future doesn't look half as fun without you in it." Gunsuke's voice grew firmer. "We're not going to let some bastard cancer take you down, Lemo. We are not going to let you die."
Lemo's heart clenched at the passion in his voice.
"Even if you say that, Gunsuke... getting into that hospital is impossible."
He shook his head. There were too many undead. Every hallway, every room teemed with shambling figures in doctor's coats, patient gowns, and nurse uniforms—day and night, hundreds of them. Gunsuke might be fast, but even he couldn't take them all on. And anything loud enough to clear a path—like explosives—would just bring even more.
"They'll be ready when the time comes," Gunsuke nodded toward the distant range where gunshots rang out. "I'll admit, I don't know how we're getting you in there yet. But you have to believe in them. Because when the time comes, we'll need to believe in each other."
"I hear you," Lemo muttered, reaching out to squeeze Gunsuke's shoulder. "Tiger."
The nickname made Gunsuke smirk.
"Don't forget our little bet."
"I won't." Gunsuke grinned. "Looks like your horse's got some competition now."
"Who?"
"She," he said, nodding toward Mari, who was approaching with two steaming mugs.
"Coffee's ready!" Mari beamed, dressed in a cosplay-style military uniform from Attack on Titan, carrying the tray with a cheerful bounce.
"You're kidding." Lemo raised an eyebrow.
"Rifles, she's okay. But with a handgun, Mari's faster and more accurate than me," Gunsuke said, already walking to the door. "Stick around during the next drill. You might just change your bet."
"Heh... you're a hell of a kid, Tiger."
Gunsuke shrugged. "Eat up. I'll see you on the field."
"Breakfast is served!" Mari chimed as she placed a plate of venison steak, eggs, and sausages in front of Lemo.
"Thanks."
"You're welcome! Eat lots, Mr. Lemo, so you can get better faster. I'm going to practice now!"
Her bright smile, her tidy tied-up hair, the joy in her face—Lemo couldn't help but smile in return. The pain in his body faded for just a moment.
Helping others was a good thing. Accepting help—he was finally learning—was good too. He didn't know what tomorrow held. Maybe he'd die from cancer. Maybe from zombies. It didn't matter anymore.
What mattered was the kindness of these young people, their unwavering hearts. Even if he only had a few seconds left to live... he wouldn't regret a single breath.
They're like flowers... the most beautiful flowers I've ever seen...The old soldier smiled, warm with pride. He'd once dreamed of having a daughter. Now it felt like he had four.
(Gunsuke didn't count. He was practically a son-in-law, ha!)
The coffee was warm enough to sip now. And outside, the morning sun edged up over the horizon—its golden light hinting at hope, still distant... but not gone.