Next was a little kid, an orphan who had no one to look after him. A little kid similar in age to his little brother, maybe a year younger. A bright kid with a tumor on his throat. The kid was extremely cheerful despite his bad situation. Which made Axel feel even worse.
The kid asked without understanding, "Big brotha? Will you cure me? The other doctor's said I can't be cured. But I don't have enough money?"
Axel's throat felt dry at those words, but he kept his composure, he said with a smile.
"No, I can't cure it. But I can make it so that you feel better and can play with no worries for a week at least."
"A week? What is that?" asked the kid, confused.
"A week means 7 days," replied Axel with a smile.
"Yeassh, a week of play." The kid jumped up cheerfully.
