Twenty-four hours later and I’m tired of the hospital. I’m tired of the needles. I’m tired of the scans. Rin and I were going to get away from everything. We were going to lie low until we could figure out what to do next. This is not what I had in mind.
At least I’m not worried about the yakuza for this moment. Though Masato is dead, the last anyone saw Haku he was limping away from the fight scene. He’ll be off licking his wounds before he’s able to fight again. In the meantime, Mara is an amiable companion, and she’s always around. She doesn’t share stories of home. She doesn’t talk of hot men. She doesn’t want to steal away to go drink at the bar. I remember her punching that yakuza’s lights out, and my respect for her grows deeper. I can respect anyone who has that much power in her fist.