Shotaro had skipped breakfast. He was too anxious to even bother. But coffee was not going to be skipped. He had hoped there would be time to have some of Terui's with him and Philip, but that didn't happen. The scared look on his partner's face when they took him away this morning still haunted him.

His partner. The kid the Boss had left him to protect. He couldn't do anything to save him from something like this. But maybe, with that anesthetic, he'd be okay.

But no, there was no anesthetic. This screaming was going to haunt his nightmares for the rest of his life. Not just Philip's, but all the other Deadmen. Even the ones he didn't know well. None of them deserved this. No matter what they did or didn't do.

He pulled his knees up against his chest. His stump and the ghost of the foot that had been there ached, both from the strain of the three days of fighting and the memory of being in that chair himself.

And he cried. At first it was fairly obvious, sniffly, blubbering, but eventually he quieted down. As Terui died, he snatched the fedora off his head and flipped it onto the table nearby. He had no business wearing it right now. This was all his fault. He should at least be up there with them. He should have taken Joey's place. He was just a kid.

If he'd known this was the cost of winning he would never have agreed to Terui's plan.