My voice was a strained whisper, teetering on the edge of disbelief. "Doctor… you must be joking. Or this report—it's wrong. Just last week, I donated blood to that girl. My tests were fine then!"
Tenjaki gripped my shoulder. "Yes, Doctor, he's had low blood volume before, but cancer? That's impossible. There must be a mistake."
The doctor placed the report on the table with deliberate weight. His eyes were grave. "No. The report is accurate. It's likely the cancer was in its earliest stage before—undetectable at the time. But if you donated blood…" He hesitated, then continued. "Then the girl is in danger now, too."
My fist slammed against the table. The sharp crack echoed through the silent room. "What do you mean that girl is also in danger? Does that mean Hana, that girl, and I are all going to die now?"
"Please stay calm and don't act like this," the doctor said firmly. "Right now, Hana is the one in the most danger. So focus on her—and try to help us find another donor."
Tenjaki grabbed my trembling hand and pulled it away from the table.
Click!
The door burst open. A nurse dashed in, clutching a report, her breath shallow, her eyes alight with a glimmer of hope.
"Sir!" she gasped. "We've found a donor. Not AB-negative… but O-negative!"
The doctor seized the paper from her hands, scanning it quickly.
Tenjaki and I stared at the report.
O-negative. (The universal donor).
Hope flickered—uncertain, fragile, but real. It battled the storm of despair inside me, as a single thought bloomed:
Maybe… she can still live.
The doctor bent forward, both hands pressing firmly on the table. "Go quickly and prepare for the transfusion," he said to the nurses, eyes sharp with urgency.
SLAM!
The door shut as the nurse hurried out. Then the doctor turned to Tenjaki. "Listen—just because Hana received O-negative blood doesn't mean she's fully out of danger. We still need AB-negative. But yes… she can survive for two or three months on O-negative alone."
I stood abruptly. "That's enough time. I'll find AB-negative blood somehow.
But tell me, Doctor… how long do I and that girl have left?"
The doctor's lips parted, delivering his words flatly: "You're not going to die, Hamuro. It's just the first stage. And you don't need to search for AB-negative blood."
Tenjaki's body stiffened as he stepped forward, fists clenched. "If you have AB-negative blood, why didn't you say so earlier?!"
The doctor raised a hand to calm him. "Wait, listen. The hospital doesn't have it. But Hamuro does. Once he starts induction therapy and responds well—likely in two or three months—he can donate his blood to Hana or blood bank get that blood"
I exhaled in relief. "Thank God… so we're both going to be okay. Thank you, Doctor."
The doctor sat back down, adjusted his glasses, and exhaled slowly, as if the next words hurt to say.
"But before we proceed further… there's something you need to know."
He paused, then looked directly at me.
"You'll need to arrange $25,000—for both your treatment and your sister's."
My heart dropped. Just moments ago, I had felt hope, a small smile tugging at my lips. It disappeared in an instant.
"What?! Twenty-five thousand?!" I gasped, my voice cracking.
The doctor's gaze didn't waver. He wasn't cold—but heavy, as if the words weighed on him too.
"Listen… I know it's a lot. But the procedures involved—chemo, blood filtration, trauma care—they're expensive. And this hospital, no matter how much I want to help, has rules. I'm bound by them."
"But I'm only sixteen!" I cried. "We don't have that kind of money. No bank will even talk to me. Please, Doctor… help us. Isn't there any other way?"
He closed his eyes for a brief moment, his fingers drumming against the wooden table. Then he opened them—tired, conflicted.
"I've broken small rules before. Quietly. For patients who truly needed it." His voice softened. "But this... this sum isn't something I can hide or adjust."
He leaned forward. "You seem like a good kid. And your sister... she still has a chance. That's why I'm telling you honestly: you need to act fast. You've got two, maybe three days to arrange it. After that… our hands will be tied."
"I have to proceed with the transfusion now," the doctor said, turning to leave the cabin. "Remember, you have two or three days to pay the hospital bill—otherwise, your treatment will be delayed. And don't forget, two lives are depending on you."
I followed the doctor outside the cabin.
"Doctor, when can I meet Hana?" I asked.
The doctor replied, "Not for long—twenty minutes at most. If her body responds well to the donor blood, things will get easier." With that, the doctor entered Hana's ward and closed the door behind him.
I walked toward Tenjaki, lost in thought. How am I supposed to collect this much money in just two days? I wondered, my pace quickening with anxiety.
Suddenly, someone's shoulder slammed into mine.
"Hey, watch it, boy!" the man snapped.
Startled, I lowered my head quickly. "Sorry, sir," I mumbled.
"Do you want to eat something? I don't think you've had anything since morning," Tenjaki asked, concern in his voice.
My head began to spin. I staggered slightly, anxiety washing over me, then quickly sat down on the nearest metal bench.
"What happened? Are you okay?" Tenjaki asked, moving closer with a worried look.
"I'm all right," I replied, trying to hide my face with both hands. But when I lowered them, my eyes were red, filled with tears, and my nose was running—the pain I was trying to conceal was written all over me.
"Buddy, don't cry. You're not alone—I'm with you," he said, staring into my eyes with sincerity.
"Always with me... I don't know what I did so wrong in life to deserve this punishment. My parents left me alone, and now Hana is fighting between life and death. I just tried to do one right thing—and even that turned into a mistake. Why did I donate my blood to that girl?" I said, filled with regret, breaking down in front of Tenjaki.
I cried non-stop, drowning in regret. Tenjaki sat silently, listening, unable to respond for over ten minutes.
Then, the doctor gently placed a hand on Tenjaki's shoulder and said, "She's stable now. You can meet her."
I rushed toward Hana's cabin, but as I reached the door, I stopped. I quickly wiped my tears with both hands, forced a smile onto my face, and then slowly opened the door to her ward.
A small, white-painted ward filled with the echoing beeps of machines and the strong scent of medicine.
"Sir, please give me your hand. You must sanitize before touching anything," a nurse said to me.
My beautiful sister lay unconscious on the bed. A needle connected her hand to a blood bag, a bandage wrapped around her forehead, faint scars marked her face, and her leg was secured in a plaster cast.
I slowly approached, gently held her hand in both of mine, and whispered, "You'll be fine soon, sister." I had never seen her like this before.
Flashbacks flooded my mind—
Hana's comforting words echoing, "Don't worry about money, just focus on your studies." Memories overwhelmed me: how I used to wait outside the gate every night because Hana would always bring me something to eat.
My eyes welled with tears, and as I blinked, a single tear slide down, falling onto Hana's face.
Tenjaki stood at the ward's entrance, sanitizing his hands. The nurse assisting him noticed my tear fall gently onto Hana's face. She quickly stepped forward and said, "Please sir, maintain a little distance from the patient." She let go of Tenjaki's hand and walked over to Hana, carefully wiping the tears from her face with a handkerchief.
Unable to bear seeing my sister in such a state, I stood up silently and walked out of the ward. Tenjaki followed me without saying a word.
I stepped out of the ward, the weight of her condition burning in my heart.
Tenjaki hugged me tightly. "Don't panic, brother… we will arrange the money."
"Please sir, leave the ward gate," the nurse said firmly.
We slowly turned and began walking toward the hospital's main gate. I kept glancing back at Hana's ward, my heart heavy.
The smell of antiseptic and the echo of hurried footsteps and distant beeping followed us as we walked.
"Excuse me, boys," an old man muttered, stopping us briefly. "Can you tell me where the radiologist's cabin is?"
"Sorry, sir," Tenjaki replied, bowing his head slightly.
We passed through the hospital's main gate.
"Taxi!" Tenjaki shouted, raising his hand.
CLUNK!
SHUT!
We sat quietly in the back seat, watching the buildings slide by through the window.
The taxi veered into a narrow alley, weaving between electric poles tangled with wires. The air was thick with the smell of a nearby chicken farm, and kids played in the dusty street.
"Have you got any ideas, Hamuro? Because I don't," Tenjaki finally spoke, his voice low. "I've never even seen a stack of money that big before."
I sighed. "Even if you give me $2,000, that's still only $7,000 in total. We're short $18,000."
"I'll give you $2,500," Tenjaki offered quickly.
CLIK!
The car door opened in front of a small, old house on the right side of the street.
The outside walls were cracked, the plaster chipped, and the paint faded. Similar houses stood tightly on either side.
But inside—it was different. The walls were freshly painted in soft purple. Everything was neatly arranged. Just inside the entrance were two small rooms. A bathroom stood to the left, a kitchen to the right, and a narrow hall led further inside.
Shhhh!
We washed our faces and legs in silence, our minds still heavy with worry.
"Hey buddy… say something," Tenjaki said gently.
I pushed open the door to my room. "I know what I have to do," I replied coldly, starting to search through drawers and boxes.
Tenjaki sat down on the edge of the bed. "What are you talking about?"
"I'm going to sell this house," I said, not looking at him. "If we're going to die anyway, then this house is worthless."
"Wait—what? Are you serious?" Tenjaki's voice rose. "You always said this was the last thing your parents left behind… the symbol of their love. And now you want to sell it?"
I opened a drawer, pulled out a flashlight, and stormed out of the room without answering.
"Wait—where are you going?" Tenjaki called, following me.
CLIK!
We entered Hana's room. It was softly decorated in pink, with beige bedsheets and matching pillows. A wooden dressing table stood in the corner, cluttered with makeup items.
"Help me move this bed," I said, gripping one side.
"Are you insane?" Tenjaki asked, but still took the other end of the bed and started helping.
In a low voice, I whispered, "Dad and Hana told me never to come in here… but I always wondered what was under the house."
I pulled the carpet back from the floor, revealing a wooden trapdoor embedded in the polished floorboards.
CLUUNNNGG.
The wooden trapdoor creaked open.
"What is this? Are you hiding treasure down here or something?" Tenjaki joked, trying to lighten the mood.
"Maybe," I replied with a half-smile. "I really don't know." We were both clearly trying to mask our tension.
A broken, dusty wooden ladder led downward into the dark.
Tenjaki placed his foot on the first step.
CRACK!
"HTTTFFFUU—!!"
The wood snapped, and Tenjaki crashed down onto the floor below.
"What the f***?!" he groaned, rubbing his back.
"Stay focused, fool!" I shouted as I carefully jumped down beside him, flashlight in hand.
We stood up and looked around. The underground room was thick with dust and cobwebs. The musty stench of decay hung in the air, mixed with the unmistakable scent of dead rats. Our footsteps stirred the silence.
As I moved the torchlight around, we saw nothing but shredded clothes—likely chewed by rats—some broken wooden sticks that looked like magician's props, and a few large, rusted boxes.
Tenjaki checked his watch. "Damn, it's already 5 PM. I have to get home."
I swung the flashlight toward him. "What? Don't go now!"
"My tuition teacher shows up at 5:30," Tenjaki explained quickly. "If my brother finds out I'm not home, he'll kill me. Plus, I still need to talk to him about the money. But don't worry—I'll come back tomorrow morning." He turned to climb out, but paused. "Also… ask your brother about selling the house."
Suddenly, Tenjaki froze. Sweat appeared on his brow.
"Wait… do you see that?" he whispered.
"What?" I asked.
"There! Two red lights… they're flickering… like eyes," Tenjaki said, his voice trembling. I swept the torchlight to where Tenjaki had pointed.
"Nothing… This isn't the time to joke around," I muttered.
But then—"Wait… there are some switches here."
I stepped forward and flipped one.
CLIK!
A red light flickered violently across the room, throwing long shadows on the walls.
Flicker. Flicker.
Then… the lights steadied.
Tenjaki's eyes widened. "Whoa. There's actually electricity down here? Weird place, but… cool." He checked the time again. "Anyway, I really have to go now."
Just as I turned toward Tenjaki, something brushed against my hip and fell to the floor with a soft thud.
Tenjaki knelt beside me. "Here," he said, pulling a digital watch from his pocket and placing it on a wooden box. "This is a special watch my brother gave me on my 15th birthday. Not super fancy, but decent. Your phone's dead, and while you can't call from this watch, I can call to it using my brother's phone."
He gave me a quick nod and jogged off.
As I took a step back, my foot hit something on the ground. I looked down.
A mask.
Its surface was cracked and dusty, but the shape was unmistakable—horrifying. Black, curling horns jutted from its crown. The mouth was twisted in a menacing grin, sharp teeth bared like a snarling devil.
I kicked it aside, frowning. "What the hell is this?"
As the mask slid across the floor, the red lights began to flicker again.
Flicker. Flicker. Flicker...
Then stillness.