“Sho?” He asks.
“Yes, Akira, it’s me,” I reply. I sit down next to him and I hear him sniffle as he tries to control his tears around me. “Are you ready for tomorrow?”
“No,” he croaks and he can no longer hold back as he hides his face in his hands again. He is safe. He will come out of tomorrow unscathed but until then the promise of death is still as real for him as it is for everyone else. I gently put an arm around his shoulder and he moves to hide his face in my shirt, clinging to anything that is solid, that is real. I remember I asked God once why there needed to be an angel of death. Why death itself could not just take those it wanted and there had to be a guardian. As sit there I remember what she said. Humanity is fragile and death is harsh. Humanity is precious and I am strong. Humanity is mine and I will protect them.