Page 333 of Mercy Written in Blood

Nakagawa looked at him.

"We still need—"

"You have seven minutes before they reach this floor."

"How do you know?"

Renji could feel the blood moving beyond the walls. Fear changed circulation. Running redistributed it. Violence accelerated it. Every human body in the corridor announced itself.

"Twelve in the western stairwell," he said. "Four near recovery. Three at the lift."

Mori stared at him.

"You can sense them."

"Yes."

"How far?"

Renji listened. The hospital unfolded. Hundreds of heartbeats. Patients resting. Nurses moving. A child crying on the fifth floor. Security guards running towards danger. The armed group entering the surgical wing. And beneath them, lower in the building, one pulse that felt wrong. Not human. Not vampire in the familiar sense. A rhythm carrying the faint answering pressure of Takahara blood.

Renji opened his eyes.

"Far enough."

The theatre door struck again. The lock bent. Mori drew his weapon.

"You remain with Ishida."

"No."

"You cannot leave while connected."

"I am no longer connected."

The final red line withdrew from Haruki's chest. The channels faded from Renji's arms. Haruki's monitors continued. Alive without him. The relief was immediate and unbearable.

Renji placed two fingers against Haruki's wrist. A human pulse. His own. Separate. He lowered his head close to Haruki's ear.

"You remain here."

Haruki did not respond. Renji's voice softened.

"I will return."

A promise. Not to Haruki alone. To himself.

He straightened. Nakagawa stared at him.

"You cannot go out there."

Renji removed his bloodied gloves.

"Yes."

"You are a surgeon."

Renji looked at his hands. Clean beneath the latex. Steady.