"JUUDAIME!" Gokudera shouts in terror as the explosion envelopes his boss.

Catherine can't look away—

—until the nurse snaps the laptop shut with a grump huff.

"Miss Cat, what did I say about overtime, again?"

"That it's not very good for my eyes," Catherine answers obediently, smiling all shut eyed at her loyal caretaker.

Daniya sighs at her. "If you know, then come on. It's past 9."

"Will I have a visitor tomorrow?" Catherine asks as she takes Daniya's arm, using the support to get up on her weakening legs.

Her nurse doesn't answer as they take a few steps forward. Too sympathetic to be blunt, it seems.

"Not tomorrow, Miss Cat," she finally answers, then gently adds, "I'm sure they're going to come soon. Maybe they're very busy, now."

"Yes, yes, of course." Catherine agrees more to reassure Daniya instead of herself. Personally, she still holds out hope, but after three months without even a word from her family . . . she can take the hint. She's not going to be one of those old witches who nags everyone to do what she wants, just because she's probably going to go kaput in a year or two.

Daniya unlocks her bedroom and sends her in with a wave. After making sure she doesn't need anything else, Daniya closes the door again and leaves to take care of the others in the nursing home.

Catherine takes her pajamas from the dresser. She changes out of and into her own clothes, because at the very least, she is still capable of doing this. Sure, it strains her veins, makes her bones ache a little bit more, but exhaustion's been an old friend of hers anyway.

She fights for her independence once. She still wants to keep it, even now.

Folding her used clothes into the wastebasket for tomorrow's laundry, she walks towards her bed. Before getting into it, she digs under the mattress first, and pulls out a slightly battered comic book—she chuckles a little when she recalled how annoyed Ally would get when she called her man-ga as comic books.

Catherine lifts the book closer so she can see through her often unfocused eyes. She caressed the familiar cover, where young Tsuna is standing with fire burning on his head and in his eyes. It was an old book, by now, but Catherine does love it so. This is the last gift Ally gave her, before she grew up and deemed cartoons and grandmas to be too 'old fashioned' to retain her attention.

Oh, how Catherine misses her family.

But it's alright. She gets under the blanket, leans against the headrest, and still chortles and smiles while she re-reads her granddaughter's misplaced passion.

Catherine has had a good enough life. The fact that she still can be happy now is more than plenty.

She falls asleep with the thought of Tsunayoshi and his friends' adventure—a shroud of peace that softens the memory of Ally, of Chris, of Aldrich . . . of everybody else, and carries them away.

Her Dying Will.