He looked up at me.
Blood on his face. Breathing heavily.
"Kyoren…" he said weakly,
"…if you're going to do it…"
He closed his eyes.
"Then do it."
He had given up.
I stared at him for a moment.
Then—
"Wanna eat a bowl of ramen?"
His eyes opened instantly.
"What…?"
I reached my hand toward him.
"Par paise tu dega."
Yeah.
I know Hindi.
He just stared at me in complete shock.
Like his brain had stopped working.
"What?" I said. "Don't tell me you're broke."
After a few seconds, he slowly grabbed my hand.
I pulled him up.
A little later—
we sat inside a small ramen shop.
Steam rose from the bowls between us.
For a while, neither of us spoke.
Then Yamato finally looked at me.
"If you weren't going to kill me…" he said quietly,
"then why stop?"
I took another bite before answering.
"Kill you?" I said.
"Why would I kill you?"
I looked at him calmly.
"You were the only one who took me in, sensei."
Yamato went silent.
But deep inside me…
another thought remained.
He was also the one who threw me into the prison maze.
The ramen suddenly didn't taste as good anymore.
"I know what you're thinking," Yamato said quietly.
I lowered my chopsticks.
"It hurt," I said.
Silence filled the table.
Heavy.
Real.
For the first time since escaping the maze—
I wasn't angry.
Just tired.
And Yamato…
for the first time—
looked guilty.