Hmm

Saburo regarded the helpless Keronian in his grip hungrily. Thoughts and memories resounded against the fact that he wanted to eat, but he couldn't make them matter.  There was a single thought that allowed him the prospect of happiness, and he couldn't be distasteful of it. It did not help matters that he truly was starving; he hadn't eaten anything meaningful since his dietary requirements had changed. His hunger was cold and unsympathetic, while Kururu's pulsing life was a warm and comforting blanket. Nothing more than that. It was no longer a source of rare intelligence or truly epic battles on black and white boards, or a glance that was in its own way less cryptic than any spoken word.

“I'm sorry, Kururu...” He said, though he wasn't apologetic in the slightest.

The scientist gave him a stabbing look, quite aware of how false that was, but lacking the air to scoff at it. He matched the look with a needle, claiming an advantage of the boy's stranglehold to shove it directly into his heart. Kururu's arms, deceptively limp a moment before, drove it in with more strength than one would have thought possible, including him. The syringe gave under his finger like a computer key, emptying its strangely whirling blue liquid into the human's spirit.

Saburo's hands fumbled, falling as he dropped Kururu. There was boiling water in him, bubbles bursting against the edges of his veins. The fluid clogged his lungs, making it seem as if the need for them had simply been forgotten until now. It occurred to him that this pain was comparative, he wouldn't have had any sense of it without the dry breeze that Kururu had injected him with. He set onto his heels and pressed a hand to his heart. “Oh... you found something... hmm?”

“Obviously. It just carried out some kind of replacement procedure.” Kururu adjusted his glasses busily. “This should provide more of the right substance. Kuku~”

Saburo found that he could twitch his lips into a smile again, and nodded his understanding shortly before he gasped. Doubling over against his knees, he tried to hold himself together, as the nerves in his limbs seemed determined to peel out of his body. Now that he lungs were functioning again, he was breathing heavily.

Still, since he could mean what he said now, he didn't want to wait to tell Kururu, “A-ah... thanks...”