Page 329 of Mercy Written in Blood

"Renji."

"Continue."

The cost did not matter. That was dangerous. He recognised it. The Takahara safeguards existed because conviction could make any cost appear acceptable when paid by oneself. Haruki wouldobject. The thought arrived so clearly that Renji almost heard his voice. You do not get to decide you are expendable.

Renji adjusted the flow. Less regenerative force. More structural control. The red channels dimmed. The room sharpened. He had not realised his vision was failing.

"Pressure eighty," the anaesthetist said.

"Rhythm stabilising."

Nakagawa completed the splenic removal. Sakamoto returned to the chest. The theatre resumed its ordinary language. Suture. Suction. Clamp. Numbers. Renji remained at the centre of it, holding Haruki's blood within the paths required for survival.

For seventeen minutes, no one spoke of what his hands were doing. They simply used the time he created.

Then the doors opened. Commander Mori entered with blood on his collar where Renji had gripped him. Behind him stood two Accord officers.

Sakamoto looked up.

"You cannot be in here."

Mori's gaze fixed on Renji's arms. The glowing channels. The blood moving without instruments. His face changed. Not fear. Recognition.

"Stop the procedure," he said.

No one moved. Sakamoto stared at him.

"What?"

"That technique is prohibited."

Renji continued working.

"Leave."

Mori stepped closer.

"Doctor Takahara, disengage."

Haruki's pressure remained eighty-two. His heart continued. Renji adjusted a bleeding branch near the liver.

"Leave."

Mori's voice hardened.

"You are performing combat Hemomancy inside a human medical facility."

Nakagawa looked at Renji. Combat. The word entered the theatre and changed what everyone saw. Not healing. A weapon used inward.

Renji lifted his eyes towards Mori.

"I am preserving his circulation."

"You are binding it to your own."

"Temporarily."

"You do not know the consequences."