Chapter song: Kohta Yamamoto - No Reality
The sound of your name made your steps falter.
"Forgive me for calling out to you so suddenly," Doctor Ilbert breathlessly said the moment he finally caught up to you.
Hands perched on his knees; the old man was struggling to get his breathing under control. Leveling him a flat look, you stifled the instinct to get close to him and rub his back in a pathetic attempt to soothe his pain.
You were still not in the clear. You couldn't afford to let your guard down unless you wanted those wretched merchants to catch you.
You pulled the hood of your cloak further down, trying to conceal as much of your face as possible.
"What do you want?" The ice behind your voice was enough to freeze the man to the spot.
But after so many years, the doctor that had treated your weak body countless times knew better than to get intimidated.
"I thought I saw you pass by. I was just trying to buy some things for my surgery. I'm almost out of remedies and I wanted to avoid going above just for this. But then I heard all that commotion, and some people shouted thie-"
You didn't let him finish, quickly dragging him into the nearest empty alley before he could expose you. Scanning your surroundings, ears wide open for any sound that may betray the approach of today's victims, you angrily yanked your hood off the moment you concluded it was as safe as it could get.
"And you are such an idiot you called out to me the moment you heard about a theft?! Were you trying to get me exposed?!"
"What?! No! I swear on the Walls, no!" Doctor Ilbert vigorously shook his head in denial, yet your murderous gaze didn't soften.
"Then what do you want?" You seethed through your teeth, patience rapidly reaching its limit.
Watching the man that saved you so many times before look so terrified, eyes round and mouth open, almost made you chuckle.
Oh, how the roles had reversed.
You could almost feel bad for him, given your history. However, it's not like he did anything for free.
Nothing came free in the Underground. Including your life.
"I just wanted to check on you. I was worried." Palms facing you in defense, he tried to sound as peaceful as possible. His fear still shone through the cracks in his wrinkled mask.
That was how humans looked in front of a wounded, furious animal. An animal who had nothing left to lose anymore. You never knew when they could attack and take you down with them.
He tried again. "You haven't been coming to your usual check-ups for the past three months, ever since-"
"I'm not a child anymore," you cut him off sharply.
"I know you're not, I just..." He deeply sighed, eyes casting downwards at the unpleasant memory of your last meeting. "If I could do anything, if I could help in any way, you know I would. I've known you since you were but a child. I can almost say you're like my own daughter. I worry about you."
Your eyes never strayed from him.
One of the reasons you chose to work with as much stealth as possible, unlike regular outlaws looking for trouble, besides your weak body, was your ability to accurately assess the person in front of you.
And the person in front of you right now made you sick to your stomach. His pretended compassion. His pleading words and fake benevolence.
All of it made your guts churn in rage.
"You worry, my ass. Let's not pretend you ever healed me for free. I learned to steal in the first place so I could pay the debts I owed you." A scoff made its way out of your chest. "Already forgot about the time you almost let me die from fever because I couldn't pay you?"
"T-that was-"
"I cried and clawed at your door, but you never opened it no matter how much I begged. My head felt like it was splitting open, and my body could've very well been on fire." A weak chuckle slipped past your lips at the memory. "Hell, I even hallucinated most of the time. I don't even know how I got the money in the end.
"That was the same situation as now." You said, frosty eyes fixing him to the spot. "Your own daughter? Oh, please. You don't care about me. You only care about the money I can give you to treat me."
Doctor Ilbert heaved a sigh, body slumping against the stone wall behind him.
"I honestly wish right now was the same as that time. I told you, there is no cure."
His words rippled through your entire body. You balled your trembling hands, teeth clenching until pain erupted in your jaw.
No matter how much you wished for it to be otherwise, you knew he was not lying. But pretending he was allowed you to find a target for all your anger.
"Bullshit," you spat out. "You just don't think I can pay you back. You're not even trying to go to the surface and ask one of your fancy doctor friends for some meds. A rat from the Underground is not worth the trouble, is it?"
His long fingers rubbed at his eyes. "I swear to you, on the memory of my late wife, there is currently no treatment. Most people die in the end from this. Be it above ground or underground, consumption spares no one, no matter how much we try to fight it."
Consumption.
The word made you jerk back, despite your best efforts.
You hated it.
You hated illness. And you hated this world. You hated this idiot of a doctor who clearly had no idea what he was doing. You hated the Underground. You hated your weak body.
You hated death.
"I just wish..." he tiredly continued, despite your clear distress, "I just wish you'd let me make your last moments more bearable. You don't have to go through this alone."
You hated everything.
But he was wrong. Because you were not going to die.
"I don't need your pity, and you will not see a single coin from me." The subtle quiver in your voice betrayed the storm inside of you. "You think I'm an idiot? You're only offering your help because you think I will leave you some money or something. Listen here and listen well, you lecherous carpetbagger.
"I don't give a fuck about your supposed studies. I don't fucking care you're a doctor from the surface, came here from the so-called goodness of your rotten heart. After so many years, I know better than to trust a quack like you. You are fucking wrong . I am not sick, and I will not die. In fact, I feel fine!" You spread your arms wide, cloak briefly floating in the air around you like a weightless pair of wings. "I feel more than fine! I robbed that idiot today with no problems, and-"
Your breath hitched.
A hand strangled your chest, brutally squeezing your airways before you could finish your thoughts.
So many months with little to no symptoms. Such a long time trying to fool yourself that you were fine.
But you knew you weren't.
All of it seemed like a childish tantrum now.
You covered your mouth in an attempt to hide it. To make it go away,
You failed.
Fresh, bright blood gushed from your lips through your fingers, as strangled gasps evaded from the depths of your lungs. Your body burned with each second you were unable to take in air, the throbbing of your chest unbearable as the coughs became more powerful.
Air was knocking at your lungs, yet you couldn't let it in, vision swarming and darkness dancing around you. A single, bitter intake of breath was all that you wanted. All that you needed. Yet, you suddenly understood no money could undo this anymore.
The weight of the bag full of coins against your breast suddenly felt too heavy. Blistering hot and burning you with its irony.
A warm hand rubbed at your back, but you were still not weak enough to accept it. You slapped it away.
Cold wall digging into your sweaty back and lungs greedily fighting for air, doctor Ilbert could do nothing but stare at you. The pity inside his gaze was enough to drive you crazy. If you weren't preoccupied struggling to live, you would've torn his eyes out of their sockets.
You may not have been the strongest physically, but you still knew a trick or two. Levi taught you, after all.
Levi.
And his name was enough to quench your panic. A tremor shuddered through you and goosebumps covered the lengths of your arms, as you were slowly able to bring your breathing under control after what felt like an agonizing lifetime. The edges of your vision cleared, darkness reluctantly dissipating.
Blood was dripping from your chin and hand onto the hard ground. The vibrant color blended with the mud before it completely disappeared.
You didn't know it the sight of it made you feel happy you were still alive or fall into despair because you knew this was the end of the road for you.
A road so fucking ugly and harrowing. But not long enough. Not nearly long enough.
Your hammering heart squeezed tight as you swallowed the rest of the blood inside your mouth.
You hated the metallic tang of it. Your airways still burned.
"I'm so sorr-"
"Don't."
You warned him before he could go any further, voice hoarse and skull pounding. You may be weaker than normal, but you were angry enough to hurt him. After all, you never get close to an injured animal. Even though you knew he was not the one at fault.
Seconds trickled past in silence. The sounds of the underground faded into the background as your thoughts were swirling inside your head. Doctor Ilbert didn't even attempt to leave.
"How long?" You eventually asked, bloody thumb rubbing at your damp temple.
"I can't say for certain. You're still young and well fed, as far as I can tell. Well, at least better fed than half the people here. With a bit of luck, you can-"
"How. Long."
He swallowed hard before looking away.
"Considering the amount of blood, I would say six months at best. One at worst."
You couldn't understand why your stomach flipped hearing this. You knew all of this already. So why didn't you expect it? Why did you still hold hope that maybe you stood a chance, when you so clearly didn't?
From the moment you were born, you never stood a chance. Weak people didn't survive long in the Underground.
And you should've been dead long ago.
You faced death so many times before. You were prepared. You were ready. You knew you were living on borrowed time.
So then, why did it hurt so bad? Why was your chest split open, tears burning at the back of your throat and anguished scream thundering to get out?
"I see," you quietly said, icy and sticky fingers clawing at the wall behind you.
"It doesn't have to hurt. If you let me, I can give you something for the pain. You can even stay in my surgery for the remaining of your time." You shot him a glare before he added, "No payment needed or wanted, of course."
You leveled him a flat look. Doctor Ilbert almost recoiled at the sight of your distrust. Both of you knew the trick he was trying to use on you was the oldest in the book.
Take him up on his offer, and he seized control of everything you owned.
A dying man could no longer fight. Nor did he take anything with him in death. Death had no need for such things.
"You're full of shit. Thanks, but no thanks."
"Are you sure? It's... it will hurt."
That much was true.
You cracked an empty smile. "It wouldn't be fun if it didn't, would it? How else would I know I'm still alive?"
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