Setsuko's rash had turned into weeping sores. Every movement made her cry out in pain. Seita remembered the quinine powder Kenji gave him.
He found a secluded stream and washed her skin as gently as he could. "It's going to sting, Setsuko. But it will make the 'fire-bugs' go away."
As he applied the bitter powder to her sores, she screamed—a raw, piercing sound that echoed through the trees. Seita had to pin her arms down, tears streaming down his own face. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he chanted like a mantra.
When it was over, she fell into an exhausted sleep. Seita looked at his hands, stained with her blood and the yellow powder. He realized he was no longer a brother; he was a nurse, a soldier, and a father all at once.