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Kaito lies face up in his bed, staring up at the ceiling.
He’s in a hotel room, and he still hasn’t entirely gotten used to the bed―he prefers his mattresses slightly firmer; blankets slightly thinner; pillows just a tad higher. All the more reason he can’t fall asleep. He stifles a sudden fit of coughing―Shuichi is sitting in an armchair reading a book, and he looks so serene, so immersed in the book that Kaito doesn’t want to disturb him. The moonlight shines gently through the window, illuminating the soft strands of prussian blue that frame his face so that he almost shines with a delicate glow, like a halo. He raises a hand to brush some loose strands of hair behind his ear, and Kaito can see his cheek, almost as white as pearl. He notices how Shuichi’s long eyelashes flutter as he blinks. He takes all this in, capturing every detail and storing them carefully in his mind.
He might not have much more time to look at Shuichi again.
He’d asked Shuichi to come with him on this trip because of that. The doctors gave him four months. Four months, to live the rest of a life that was supposed to last decades. He doesn’t feel bitter about it, doesn’t curse Fate for handing him the short end of the stick. It’s just… there were so many things he had wanted to do, and so many places he had wanted to go. He would’ve liked to visit space―he’d even had his sights set on being the first man on Mars. He’d had dreams, big ones, and the world had just decided to steal them away in a poof of dust.
He’s decided that the one thing he can do, if he can’t go to space, is to spend as much time with Shuichi as possible. It was so nice of him, really, to drop everything in an instant and agree to come along. Or maybe it was just because Kaito is dying and, y’know, no one with an ounce of courtesy would reject a request from a dying person.
Huh, dying. Kaito scoffs. He doesn’t really like to think about the word. Dying is a label you give to weak people, he thinks; people who can’t fend for themselves anymore, people who have to rely on others for everything. People who, quite literally, can't stand on their own two feet. Kaito is none of those things: he is nineteen, almost twenty, and he likes doing sports, going on wild adventures, or even just making a mess in the kitchen―basically anything that involves moving about and having fun.
He thinks of hospital beds and the thin, bony figures that lie in them, connected to ventilators and IV tubes and all sorts of equipment. They still breathe, but from the way the skin on their faces stretches thinly across their cheekbones and how their eyes sink low in their sockets, Kaito thinks they look hauntingly macabre, like skeletons. Already dead, by his standards. Will he become like that too, one day? He shudders at the mere notion of it.
He takes a moment’s solace in the fact that, at least for now, he is very much alive and (mostly) well. That means he can, for the most part, leave any health-related concerns to rot in the dust. Or at least, that’s what he tells himself. He doesn’t want to trouble Shuichi—that guy worries far too much on his own about practically everything. Kaito has always been the laid-back one, the carefree one, the one with the infectious optimism. It’s become such a given fact among all his friends that he almost thinks of it as a responsibility. Even now, whenever Shuichi frets about not having enough spare change or having uttered a wrong word in the local language, Kaito brushes off the problem, saying things like “it’s no big deal”. Whenever Shuichi gets anxious over their itinerary not being detailed enough, it’s Kaito’s job to tell him that they’ll figure it out as they go. After all, he just wants Shuichi to have fun. Kaito’s been this way ever since he can remember, and he’s gotten used to it, mostly.
Nobody ever wonders if anything is going on beneath the hearty laughter, behind the jokes and the shrugs and the fun and games. Or maybe he simply hides it too well, and he thinks about how curious it is, the way he doesn't want anyone to know but somehow wishes someone would just notice.
They’re in New Zealand now, somewhere called Lake Tekapo, and Kaito is grateful for the tranquil surroundings and the open air. He hasn’t seen skies like these in ages, and last night he got the chance to show Shuichi the Magellanic Clouds, two dwarf galaxies which are visible year-round from here. Shuichi had gazed in awe at the sheer number of stars overhead as they lay by the lakeside, warming Kaito’s heart immensely. Over the next few weeks, they’ll travel to some of the most spectacular stargazing locations on the planet, spanning from Africa, to Europe, to the Americas, and everywhere they go, Kaito will get to see that same expression of childlike wonder on Shuichi’s face―his grey eyes will light up and he will beam brightly at the sky and at Kaito, and if he’s lucky, Shuichi will let out a little gasp as shooting stars streak through the black fabric of the night.
Kaito wants so desperately to bring that smile with him, to have it imprinted in his heart so that he can carry it to wherever he is going… wherever he is going after life, that is. He wants to have Shuichi close to him forever, if forever is real. Kaito has always been a live-in-the-moment kind of guy, but how many more moments will he have? Is there―he tentatively tiptoes around the thought―an afterlife? If so, what’s it like? Will he be alone, or will he be able to come back and see Shuichi? …But then he’d probably appear in the form of a ghost, and he is mortified of that possibility, more so than he’d like to admit. It’s too much―death, darkness, all of it shrouded in a veil of mystery, and he feels threatened by the prospect of emptiness, the idea of not being here.
His clamouring thoughts are interrupted by a sudden, slight bending of the mattress, and he realizes with a start that Shuichi has left the armchair and is now sitting next to him on the bed. The blue-haired male carefully maneuvers himself into a lying position, and it is then, when his forearm brushes against Kaito’s, moving to hold his hand, that Kaito feels the tender touch of Shuichi’s skin and the feeling of his slight, delicate fingers and it’s all so real, and he doesn’t know how many times he’ll be able to experience it before he goes away. He feels the warmth of Shuichi’s body under the duvet, close against his own, and he feels as if nothing in the world will ever be this way again, and something breaks inside of him in that moment. He turns away brusquely to face the wall.
“Hey, what’s wrong?”
Silence.
“Are you okay?” Shuichi ventures, and as he leans over to peer at Kaito’s side of the bed he sees that the part of the pillowcase around his eyes is slightly wet. His eyes widen a little- he’s never seen Kaito like this before, and he isn’t exactly sure what to do. “Kaito- ”
“Men never cry,” Kaito mumbles somewhat gruffly into his pillow. He still can’t believe he let his feelings get to him; didn’t even know this was possible. He feels humiliated―betrayed, almost―by his emotions, and a rush of annoyance overcomes him.
“Well, I cry all the time, and you don’t seem to think I’m any less of a man,” Shuichi says. “Or at least, I should hope so,” he adds with a soft chuckle. Kaito hates that he’s right, but he realizes that after all the times he’s seen Shuichi cry in the past, he’s only thought of him as stronger, for having all these problems and yet still braving the storms. In fact, he finds Shuichi very brave indeed, for allowing himself to weep, to sob, to let his emotions out in front of someone else, and he’ll always be glad to be that person whom Shuichi trusts so dearly. Masculinity, it seems, is not as simple as the books make it out to be. With this in mind, Kaito relaxes his shoulders, which he realizes had been tense around his neck. He wipes away his tears with the back of his hand and flips over so he’s on his back, again facing the ceiling.
“It- It’s tough, y’know?” he says, not meeting Shuichi’s gaze. “It sucks to know that you’ll be here one day and gone the next and the people you care about are gonna show up to your funeral, and bawl their fuckin’ eyes out, and you can’t go give them a piece of tissue paper, you can’t go give them a pat on the back, you can’t go tell them a joke to make them feel better, because you’re fucking dead, Shuichi. When you’re dead, you’re not real anymore. You don’t exist. I can’t even wrap my head around that.” He takes a deep breath, then lets out a heavy sigh.
His voice is quiet when he says the next words. “I wanna keep existing, Shu, and it ain’t for space and all that. I mean, yeah, sure, I love space and all, but if I could stay here and have just one thing, it’d be you.” He blushes, just a little, and Shuichi finds it so endearing that his heart stops for a split second, though it’s about to burst from the sadness he’s feeling, too. He reaches out his hand, and Kaito grabs it, both of them grateful to have something to hold on to, to anchor them to this moment in time. Kaito trusts Shuichi; he would put the whole world in his hands if he ever had to, and he knows he’d feel safe doing it. Comforted by the thought, he decides that if there’s ever a time to talk about his problems, now would be it.
“Hey, Shu?”
“Yeah?”
“Do I joke around too much?”
“No, why?”
“Sometimes I feel like if I screw around too much and just laugh at everything no matter what, then nobody’s gonna take me seriously.” He looks away, embarrassed. “I never want you guys to be worryin’ about me, but it’s just nice to know someone cares about you every once in a while, y’know?”
Shuichi doesn’t respond for a while, and Kaito turns to find him looking wistfully into the distance, a tinge of amusement showing in the upturned corners of his mouth. “Hey, what’re you laughing about?!” he says half-indignantly, punching Shuichi’s arm lightly. Shuichi just smiles.
“Of course I notice,” he says. “Of course I notice when you’re not feeling like yourself, or when you’re thinking about something you don’t want the rest of us to know about. Come on, I’ve known you since we were kids. You’re pretty transparent, you know.” He smirks, eliciting a chuckle from Kaito, but his smile fades as quickly as it came.
“I was always too afraid to ask, I guess,” he says, and he chokes up, wondering just how many times he’d stopped himself saying something for fear that Kaito wouldn’t want to talk about it, when in fact he’d been waiting for someone to say something. Anything. Now Shuichi doesn’t have much time left to make amends. “We all were, I guess. I suppose I’ve always been too caught up in my own problems, and I’m really sorry-”
Kaito puts a finger to Shuichi’s lips, and the latter trails off. “Don’t be―I’m not sure I would’ve wanted to open up anyway. It’s just… I don’t like to feel weak, y’know? And it’s stupid, I know, that I want you guys to care about me but I don’t, but… I’m a sucker for your smile, Shu. I like seein’ you happy, and I wanna be there for ya, y’know? I wanna always be strong enough to be your hero and- and never let you down.”
Kaito thinks of how little time they have left together, for him to be the hero―Shuichi’s hero, and he can’t stop his nose from stinging and his eyes from watering, and soon he finds himself sniffling again, rubbing his eyes fiercely because he just doesn’t want to go.
Shuichi’s crying too, tears flowing from the corners of his eyes down his cheeks like rain, and part of him wants to curl up into a ball and hide away until the day comes. But even more so, he wants to be strong for Kaito this time, because Kaito’s always been strong for him, and he’s always been right there by his side, unwavering. So he gently lifts Kaito’s head and rests it on his own small shoulder, stroking his hair lightly until he’s breathing smoothly again.
“You don’t always have to be the hero, Kaito,” he says softly, wrapping his other arm around the purple-haired teenager’s waist. “We can’t all be heroes, all the time, but I want to be yours, Kaito, even if it’s only for a little while.” He rests his head against Kaito’s, feeling his every breath. “From now on, you can be my sidekick, and I’ll be your hero, and I’ll never let you down, and I’ll be there for you,” he gives Kaito a light peck on the forehead, “always.”
A faint smile grows on Kaito’s face as Shuichi’s lips touch his skin, and they slowly drift off to sleep as the first rays of sunlight peek out over the horizon, bringing forth hope and a new day.