[She may not be surprised that she punched him, but Mello sure is. The impact of her fist in his stomach is like being thrown into an ice bath, shocking him silent except for quiet wheezing as he staggers backwards, doubled over with his arms wrapped around his stomach, and struggles to regain his breath.

Death removes you from the equation, she says, and Mello thinks that's maybe the most perceptive thing he's ever heard come out of her mouth. She's not wrong, but there's also a bigger picture to be considered. You can't solve an equation without subtracting and dividing some of the parts.]

I'm not looking forward to dying. You really think that's what I want?

[God, he could laugh right now if it wouldn't hurt. When does he ever get what he wants.]

Don't you think if that were true, dying once would have changed my mind about that, even a little bit? Do you really think I'm so blind that I can't see what I'll be leaving behind?

[Mello isn't suicidal. He's driven. There's a difference.]