Oda let out his familiar laugh — that slight, mocking one laced with a disdain for seriousness — right after the grandmother said sternly:
"If you become a carrier of the disease, I will throw you out immediately, no matter who you are."
He responded with a cold smile and a mocking tone:
"What an honorable threat, my dear old lady. I'm flattered."
Then he closed his eyes for a moment and took a weary breath…
Just then, the door creaked open slowly, and Ronwa stepped in hesitantly, her small hand clutching a white bandage.
Oda looked at her immediately, a warm smile appearing on his face — one that rarely showed in front of strangers.
As for Ronwa, she smiled back shyly and nervously, but stepped toward him with steady feet, as if summoning her courage.
"Why did you leave your hand like that?" she asked, almost angrily, standing in front of him.
Oda blinked with feigned surprise:
"Oh? Am I in trouble?"
She opened the bandage and sat down in front of him:
"Yes, because you're weird... Who doesn't spread disease and still lives? That means you're… not human, right?"
She said it calmly, but her gaze was deep, as if trying to truly understand him.
Oda remained silent for a moment, then smiled — a small, sad smile, as if surrendering to reveal half the truth.
"I might not be... But I'm here, isn't that enough?"
She didn't respond. Instead, she gently took his burned, withered hand and began to wrap the bandage around it carefully.
He flexed his fingers slightly under her touch, then stopped — surrendering to her, letting her tend to him in silence, his eyes studying her small focused face.
She wrapped the bandage until all the blackness was hidden — until nothing remained visible — then looked up at him and whispered:
"Now it's better… Even if you're not human, at least your hand doesn't look rotten anymore."
He chuckled softly, still gazing at her little hand resting on his:
"Thank you, my little lady… Without you, I would've remained an official monster."
Ronwa paused for a moment, her hand still on his bandaged one. She slowly lifted her gaze to him, her eyes full of questions… fear, worry, curiosity… and perhaps something small she didn't understand herself yet.
Oda remained silent, looking into her eyes — eyes that reflected everything he felt but couldn't say.
Then he said suddenly, in a soft voice, as if speaking to himself:
"You know, Ronwa… You're the only reason I'm still here."
She blinked in surprise, then smiled nervously:
"Because I gave you a bandage?"
She said it, trying to lighten the mood — but he didn't laugh.
He shook his head slowly, looking toward the window, where the night had started to cast its shadow over the village.
"Because you gave me… a feeling I'd forgotten long ago. That there could be something… or someone… that makes life — even a life filled with death — worth living."
Ronwa fell silent, looking confused… Her young mind couldn't fully grasp what he meant, but she felt its weight.
He continued in a softer tone:
"I thought I was done… just remnants, a ghost who walks and writes and pretends he's fine. But you… when you looked at me that day, like you really saw me…"
He gently placed his free hand on her head, over the cloth she wore:
"You saw me — not as a writer, not as a ghost, but as something worth touching… without fear."
Then he quickly pulled his hand away, as if what he'd done was a crime:
"Ah—sorry. I hate feelings… they're too sticky."
Ronwa giggled quietly, but she looked moved — shy, and her little heart thumped with something new she didn't yet understand.
"Does that mean we're friends?"
She asked, placing her hands behind her back.
He replied with a mysterious smile:
"Friends? …Perhaps something even worse than that."
He winked, then turned his face toward the door, trying to hide the smile that had begun to tremble on his lips.
Ronwa sat on the chair across from him, her large eyes wide with worry and anticipation. She asked in a hoarse voice:
"Oda... mama, is she going to be okay? Is this the illness they talked about on the radio?"
Oda sighed and leaned back in his seat. He looked at his bandaged hand, then back at her, speaking in a calm but serious tone:
"Honestly? …Yes, it's that one. But I don't think what she has is just a normal illness."
She furrowed her brows and leaned toward him:
"What do you mean?"
He nodded slowly and said:
"The Black Wither… yes, it's spreading, and the symptoms are the same: blackened fingers, delirium, self-harming behavior… exactly like what your mother's experiencing."
Then he exhaled and added in a cold voice that still carried a trace of sympathy:
"I won't lie to you… her condition is bad. But she's still alive, and that's what matters."
Ronwa stepped closer, her eyes growing more anxious. Oda continued, lifting his eyes to meet hers directly:
"At first I thought it was the same disease spreading in the city… the Black Wither. But now, I don't think it is."
Ronwa's eyes widened in shock:
"What? Then what is it?"
He took a slow breath and said:
"There's something strange about it… the symptoms match the Black Wither, yes. But the aura… the presence… it feels more like an ability. A ghost's ability."
Ronwa stepped back a little, trying to grasp what he meant, and said slowly:
"You mean… someone… a ghost, is behind this?"
Oda nodded:
"Maybe. A disease-based ability, or something linked to mental decay and madness. But it's not natural. It's… cursed."
He lowered his voice further:
"When I touched her… I felt something whispering in my mind. Something dark… something that makes people see illusions, feel like they're dissolving… exactly what your mother felt."
Then he raised his injured hand slightly:
"I didn't get fully infected… because I'm not entirely human. But even I was affected. That tells us what we're dealing with… is no ordinary illness."
He paused, then continued with a serious tone:
"If we want to save her… we need to find the one behind this ability. If we don't stop them, the entire village will be in danger."
Ronwa stared at him, her heart racing with fear and amazement, then she whispered:
"Will we… find this ghost?"
Oda smiled, but it wasn't a comforting smile:
"We will. But don't expect them to welcome us… ghosts who believe in death more than life rarely talk. They just… torment."
Oda looked at Ronwa with his tired eyes, then spoke in a low voice tinged with bitterness:
"Actually… your mother was supposed to die today."
Ronwa froze in place, her face going pale as if the blood had drained from her veins. She asked in shock:
"W-what?! W-what do you mean?"
He nodded slowly, turning his gaze toward the window as if unwilling to see her reaction:
"The illness… or rather, the ghost's ability I mentioned, was meant to end her life before sunset today… but I… postponed it."
"Postponed? How?!" she said, stepping toward him eagerly and anxiously.
Oda replied with a weary tone, touching his bandaged hand to his chest:
"At a great cost… I used my ability of annihilation and sacrificed a large part of my energy… to weaken the disease and buy more time. You have only three days, my lady."
A silence fell for a few seconds. Ronwa took a deep breath, clenched her fists, looked at him with eyes shining with sorrow and courage, and said firmly:
"Then we will find the cure… within three days, we will find that ghost and bite him… and we will save mama."
Oda slowly raised his head toward her, staring with slight surprise, then smiled a strange smile that mixed admiration with sadness:
"Your orders, my lady, are not to be refused."
Then he bowed lightly while seated and added in his usual slightly sarcastic tone:
"Just don't take too long thinking… every minute that passes, another flower of her life wilts."