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Yosano hated death. Despite what many believed, she wasn"t the sadistic doctor that she usually appeared to be. She hates hurting others, and that was, perhaps, a front she put on to hide her true nature, to hide the scared, young girl she still felt she was who had seen so much death in such a short amount of time. She had become desensitized to it, but maybe that was for the best.
As a hairpin in the shape of a butterfly materialized in front of her, tears soon began to stream down her face.
"Thank you, Miss Angel."
She would remember this moment forever, and she refused to forget this stranger"s kindness.
A stiff, commanding hand fell on her shoulder, and she could do nothing but stare at the massacre in front of her. Bodies were strewn everywhere, toppled on top of each other, many of them missing limbs, and the worst thing was that she could tell some of soldiers were still alive, groaning in pain yet unable to call for help.
"It"s time to go, Yosano-chan."
She lets herself be pulled away, the man pushing her far in the opposite direction of the wasteland of carnage that rest behind them.
She cried, gently cradling the butterfly pin in her hands as if it were a newborn baby.
"Thank you, Miss Angel."
She couldn"t do it anymore.
"...Why are you crying, Yosano-sensei?" The soft voice of a white-haired boy calls out, and she wipes her tears on the fabric of her glove.
"Because, death is senseless."