Beastars: A Symphony of Life

Chapter 115: Preparation for An Invitation to Kill

Black.

Darkness.

Oblivion.

That was all he saw, and that was all he remembered between passing out on the road, and this moment he woke up in the hospital bed.

Legoshi looked around the room. Everything hurt. Breathing was difficult as his ribs popped and shifted. His jaw was sore. He had multiple stitches in different places around his body and bruises speckled his skin, in the places he could see. He wanted to sit up, but that probably wasn't a good idea. The hospital bed was just as uncomfortable as he had remembered, barely tolerable. He coughed, carrying the faint taste of blood up into his mouth. It laced over his tongue and coated the roof of his mouth. He couldn't bring himself to do anything other than look up at the ceiling in complete and utter anguish.

"How are you holding up?" Gosha asked, seated next to him.

Legoshi didn't move his head. Simply tilted his eyes to look at his grandfather, a lump forming in his throat.

"You don't have to say anything," the komodo dragon said. "I know that pain."

Legoshi looked back up at the ceiling. Water started to leak from the corners of his eyes and drip into his ears. Any drops that missed the ear canal, slipped into the fabrics and cushioning of the pillow under his head. He did his best not to cry. The pain in his chest was saying his ribs would break more. But the stress of holding in the sobs was probably more painful.

Gosha leaned forward and grabbed his grandson's wrists, most likely hoping to ease the wolf's pain in some way. At the very least, it helped the canine ease out the pain in a way that kept his splintered ribs from tearing open his lungs. Legoshi cried for, at the most, thirty minutes before calming down to shaky breaths. In that time, a nurse came to the door twice to check in and Gosha shooed them away. If anything became life threatening, he'd let them know.

Legoshi wheezed and heaved his breathing until his grieving subsided to a controllable level, at least another thirty minutes.

"Are we cursed?" Legoshi asked weakly.

"Sorry?" Gosha asked, taken aback.

"Are we cursed?" he asked again.

"What makes you think that?" he asked his grandson.

"First there was grandmother before I was born," he started listing.

Gosha's gums burned.

"Then mom," Legoshi continued. "Now Haru."

"I don't believe in family curses," Gosha answered carefully. "I believe bad things just sorta happen to everyone. Only at certain times do we remember all the bad that makes it seem like a supernatural occurrence against us."

He let go of his grandson's wrist, seeing the canine was locked in place again, looking at the ceiling, and leaned against the back of his chair.

"I also believe in the strong willed," the reptile continued. "And our family has a long history of strong will. Usually translates to stubbornness in this day and age, but strong will nonetheless. I think your grandmother was the strongest woman I ever met. That will passed onto your mother, which in turn passed onto you. And if you ask me, Haru has also got a strong will. She's a fighter."

"But she can't fight forever," Legoshi murmured to himself.

Gosha nodded and looked at the ground. When he looked back, he saw something. Legoshi's face had hardened. He was no longer crying or sobbing, or leaking tears. He was angry. He was frustrated. He was determined. He was vengeful. It scared Gosha. He had seen this look before, and it had cost him a friend who was now six feet underground.