[He'd take the sentence on the nose, and the kick directly to the ribs. After years of sparring with him, he should have known better. Known a decoy kick when he saw one teeing up. But considering he'd just been mopping himself up off the floor a day or so ago, his game's off. Everything is off. Wrong.

What was the point of everything he'd done and lost if Mikey was gone?

Even now, suddenly clutching at the siding of the tower, that was the prevailing thought.

...He'd definitely cracked a rib.

Looking up at him with fierce, fiery eyes, he'd hack a little-- and then spit the blood directly at Mikey's shirt, so he'd have a nice little souvenir. He wasn't forgetting him that easy.

And then, he'd continue to follow.]

You're gonna have to kill me... I won't stop. Knock me out. I'll wake up and find you. Call me names. I don't care. I won't stop, Manjiro. I won't leave you.