The hospital room was quiet except for the soft hum of the oxygen machine and the awesome opening theme music of Black Clover; Kojo had rewound the episode just to hear it again.
"Hm, hm, hm, we can catch the gay…" He sang along, of course, like he normally did—despite not exactly getting the proper Japanese words right.
His parents didn't disturb or interrupt him, remaining silent all through, watching their son enjoy his final moments. As Kojo's mom watched him joyously mouth absolute crap, her red-rimmed eyes glistened once again.
She glanced at her husband opposite her on the hospital bed. He had his lips pursed with his jaws tightly clenched, staring back at his wife too. She maintained his gaze before bending her face down and clandestinely cleaning her dropping tears.
She watched every cartoon with him since before he was old enough to string words together. And when they both fell asleep as they watched the cartoon, his father covered them with a blanket and wrapped them in his arms.
Kojo tried lifting his arms again to drag the seek control, but his arms felt heavy. Mom quickly adjusted the tab, bringing it directly to his finger, and he moved it over to the end and watched the ending theme song and then the little chibi comedy sketch after the credits.
"Ahahaha…" Kojo laughed heartily at the rather dry sketch. After, the scene changed to a brief preview of the next episode, and then the screen blackened.
"Ah, that was amazing. Black Clover is still peak. Too bad this is the latest episode," the fifteen-year-old boy said wistfully, lying on a plain white hospital bed with both his parents at his sides.
The countdown to the next episode was seven days. Regardless, he felt lucky to have seen this episode. He never thought he would.
Despite reading the manga regularly, he still concurrently watched the anime because he felt the experience couldn't be matched.
"Black Clover is just perfect. I just love Asta," he said, then turned to his parents. "He's so strong. I wish I was like him."
Mom wrapped her arm around his shoulder and pulled him close. "You are stronger already."
She laughed despite her tears. "I still don't understand why you like these foreign cartoons. They don't even speak English."
Kojo scrunched his face, looking insulted but smiling regardless. "What? It's called an anime, not a cartoon. Cartoons are for kids, mom. How many times will I explain it to you?"
"Yes, yes. It's an anime. I've heard." Kojo's mom smiled genuinely. She had only said that to lighten the mood.
"Of course, it's not a cartoon. I can't count the number of times I saw plump goodies. Kid shows don't have that," Kojo's dad joked, making Kojo yell out "Dad" and laugh, and also making Mom nudge him on the shoulder for the explicit joke.
"What? Kojo's practically a man too," Dad laughed and said.
As Kojo laughed, he felt his consciousness slip, and his gaze drifted to the ceiling.
"Dad… Mom…" he called out, panic settling on both his parents faces. His father jumped down from the bed and sprinted to go find the doctor, while his mother just hugged him tightly and gently as if she were afraid he might break apart, but if she held him too freely, he might slip away.
She repeatedly muttered in his ear and brushed his hair, "Don't worry baby, everything is going to be all right… everything is going to be all right…"
'I know… that's a lie…'
Slowly, his vision became blurry.
Kojo felt a dull ache seep into his bones. His cells couldn't produce enough energy, causing him muscle weakness, seizures, and organ failure. MELAS Syndrome had eaten away at him all these years, draining his strength, his energy—his life. He could barely move, and he hadn't even clocked sixteen yet. It wasn't fair.
Right then, Dad came back with the doctor and two nurses.
"Ma'am, please step aside," the doctor hurriedly said, but Mom held onto Kojo, not even considering his words.
"No. I can't," she said, but Dad came to her and held her shoulders. She looked at him and reluctantly but finally let him go.
Beep!
The heart monitor let out a long, piercing sound and Mom burst into tears.
A nurse immediately began resuscitation, pressing down on his frail chest and performing CPR. But given his condition, she had to be extra careful not to break his ribs. The other nurse placed the bag-valve-mask over his face, squeezing it to force air into his lungs.
Kojo watched everything happen. Mom was bawling her eyes out, kneeling on the ground and begging. Dad held her. He always had a brave face on but now he was clenching his knees and hand on Mom tightly. He was probably praying for a miracle.
Kojo's body struggled to breathe, but now… it wasn't breathing at all.
The doctor pushed the nurse aside and ordered her, holding a defibrillator, "Charging to 200 joules! Clear!"
Boom!
There was no response.
At that moment, the world stopped for Kojo.
"Mom is screaming my name. Dad is finally crying. The doctor is going to try that thing again. It's good I didn't feel the first one; I don't think getting shocked will feel nice."
He sighed. "I knew it would be any day now. At first, I was scared, but I felt relieved, too. I just wish I had more time. One more episode of Black Clover…"
In his final millisecond, as Mom's voice grew distant, he prayed, "God, if you are there — listening, please… let my next life not be like this. I want my next life to be as exciting as Black Clover. But I'm grateful for the life I had. Mom… Dad… I love you guys…"
The muffled sounds of cries echoed in the hospital room. On the heart monitor, there was only a simple flat line and a consistent noise.
The doctor checked the clock and solemnly declared, "Time of death… 11:11 PM."
…
In a village covered in dew, the cries of newly born babies echoed in the sky.
A middle-aged priest, holding a broom, walked out of his church to see three baskets filled with three distinct babies.
"Here we go again…" he said and crouched in front of the baskets.
Two of the babies were crying to high heaven, while the other, bearing a darker skin color was oddly quiet.
The priest picked the baskets up and took them inside.
Shortly after, using his fire magic, he lit up the fireplace and patted the infant in his arms, saying, "There, there…"
And then, he placed him in his basket and stretched his back.
"Those two finally calmed down," he said and let out a long sigh. He looked at the third infant, who was staring at him blankly, and said, "It's good this one is a bit more mature."
He bent down and looked at the other two, muttering to himself, "Are they brothers… or perhaps twins?"
"No, they're not." He observed the two and caressed his chin. "This one is rather calm, while this one… seems like he has a lot of energy. They also look nothing alike."
He stretched his arm and drew the blanket covering one of the two slightly.
"Hm? 'Yuno,'" he read out the name sewn on the baby's cloth and then glanced at the exquisite-looking necklace beside him.
"Let's see. The energetic one over here is—"
Bam! The suddenly infant kicked the priest in the nose as he got close, babbling about and doing baby things.
"Hey! You're a bit too energetic…" he lampooned while holding his bleeding nose. He stood up with tears at the corners of his eyes, clenching his teeth, but then his expression eased up as he read this infant's name.
"'Asta', eh?" The priest smiled.
The third infant remained staring at him, so he stretched his hand and opened the blanket slightly, reading his name.
"Hm, 'Kojo.' I've not heard such a name before."
Just then, hearing his name, the blank and quiet baby suddenly smiled.
The priest smiled and placed his hands on his waist. "Right! You three don't need to worry about a thing anymore. Starting today, this is your new home…
"Asta, Yuno, Kojo."