Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Eiji Okumura

5 Jul. 2018

Ohayō America, that’s the first thing I think when I look out of the window this morning. Everything about this place screamed America, and even though I’ve never seen the city New York in broad daylight, I’ve always imagined it looking like this; vibrant, busy and big.

Even though I’ve grown up in a place like Japan, which isn’t the calmest country either, I’m not used to the busy streets, sounds of cars everywhere and the morning’s sun waking me up at what feels like midnight. The last thing could also be the cause of my major yet lag though.

Since arriving at my apartment yesterday morning after a thirteen hour flight, on which I slept for most of the time, I haven’t closed my eyes for a single minute anymore. I’m too worked up about today; my first day of working as Ibe-san’s assistant at New York’s biggest clinic.

I was very surprised when, only a month ago, Ibe-san suddenly told me he was moving to America for work. He’d been my mentor-figure at the hospital I previously worked and I hadn’t ever thought of him leaving me there alone with all the female nurses that kept on gossiping about me; apparently, in the older women’s eyes, a nineteen-year-old is too young to have an interest in being a surgeon’s assistant. Even though Ibe-san kept reassuring me that I was great at my job, especially for how young I still am, but the ladies found new things to gossip about each day; if it wasn’t my age, it was the fact that I acted too young, even for a nineteen-year-old, and I acted too feminine for a guy.

I don’t know what their problem was, but anyway, when Ibe-san told me he was leaving I begged him not to. Then he gave me the offer, one he had been anticipating for quite a while now.

“They need a young friendly nurse at the hospital I’ll be working at,” Ibe-san told me, explaining that they had a teenage patient at the clinic with a massive distrust towards most grownups, so they thought maybe searching for a permanent, young, nurse for this guy would give him a less stressful time at the clinic. “I talked it over with a friend I have there, the patient’s previous caretaker, and he thought your personality would suit him perfectly.”

Basically, Ibe-san gave me a job offer. It would earn me less money than the job I had at the hospital in Japan, since I’d mainly be taking care of that one patient and beside that would only be performing some little tasks, but Ibe-san promised me I’d make more than enough money to pay the rent of an apartment nearby and I’d be able to buy food and clothes. So, after talking it over with my parents and obviously having a lot of tough discussions about it, I decided to take the job-offer.

Two days ago, very early in the morning, Ibe-san and I got onto the plane and we arrived in America thirteen hours later. We got a couple more hours to rest and settle in into our apartments, and today will be my official first day at New York’ Care and Research Clinic.

I smile while stretching my arms; I’m a lucky guy, New York is pretty and this view of the sun behind the big skyscrapers could even be called more gorgeous than the sunrise in Izumo.

A knock on the door scares me half to death; maybe because it’s dead silent in my apartment, or maybe because this isn’t Japan and they legally can carry around guns here. After realizing how late it is though, I remember that it’s probably Ibe-san who’s picking me up for my first day at work.

I walk to the door, sliding on my shoes when I reach the hallway, and open it. The summer’s sunshine shines in my eyes, so I squint while greeting Ibe-san.

“Good morning, Ei-chan,” Ibe-san replies soon after I open the door. “Ready for your first day?”

I smile, nodding cheerfully. “One-hundred percent ready!” I say, stepping out into the summery morning air. I quickly check if I have my keys on me before I close the door behind me.

“Not at all nervous?” Ibe-san asks me as we’re walking to his car.

I shrug, telling him that the nervousness I’m having is kind of being canceled out by how much I’m looking forward to meeting the new people, seeing the patient I’ll be working with and just working at the American hospital in general; it’ll be totally different from Japan, which is exciting.

“I’m glad!” Ibe-san chuckles. “Because I actually am a little nervous.”

We get in the car and as I’m putting on my safety belt I ask Ibe-san why a surgeon as talented as him would have to be nervous about getting a new job somewhere. To which Ibe-san answers that he’s only twenty-five himself, and moving to a completely different country for a new job is scary.

I nod, he might be right; somewhere deep down I’m a little nervous too, even though I rather wouldn’t admit it to neither Ibe-san nor myself for that matter.

It’s when my heart starts to beat so quickly that it feels like it’s going to burst right out of my chest, that I realize that I’m much more nervous than I led myself to belief. I’m very nervous, especially when we get out of the car and I see how gigantic this clinic actually is in real life.

How am I going to find my way around here? I ask myself while following Ibe-san through the automatically sliding doors. It’s humongous!

If the outside didn’t look big enough already, with its god-know-how-many floors, the inside looks even more like a maze. With all sorts of people, from all over the world, wandering around. People either look like they own the place or are holding one of those maps that they sell at the front desk.

Ibe-san and I also buy one of those maps, because we can’t get lost on our very first day here.

“So, we’re now here—“ Ibe-san points at the red dot at the entrance of the hospital. “—and you have to go to the west wing, the Neuroscience unit.”

The department where I’ll be working from now on is all the way up to fourth floor, while Ibe-san will be working on the first floor where they carry out all sorts of medical procedures. In such a huge hospital, I doubt Ibe-san and I will see each other a lot during work. At least our apartments are right next to each other; that way if I need something, I can always ask Ibe-san once I’m home.

“Here we go,” Ibe-san says when we reach the elevator. He gives me a pat on the shoulder and says, “You can just take the elevator to the fourth floor, just ask the first person you come across for Max Lobo, he’s the person who’ll be showing you around today. Can you do that?”

I nod, smiling nervously while thanking him for walking me to the elevator.

“We’ll meet in the entrance hall this evening after work, okay?” Ibe-san tells me. “Try to have fun.”

I nod again, wishing him a good first day as well before stepping into the elevator. I’m standing in there with a much taller and broader man, someone who clearly works here. American people are so tall, and these bean-stakes will be my colleagues from today.

I’m suddenly very nervous.

I avert my gaze to the floor, wiping my sweaty hands off on my pants every once in a while, until we reach the fourth floor. The taller man gets out of the elevator with me, and when I realize that we’re walking to the same department, I mumble, “S-Sir, could you tell me where I can find Max Lobo?”

The man turns around, squinting at me before smiling wide. “Oh, so you’re Eiji Okumura?”

“Yes,” I reply, looking up at him, only now noticing the nametag that’s pinned onto the fabric of his broken-white uniform. My cheeks get all red when I realize I just asked the man whose name is Max Lobo where I can find him; great first impression!

I bow and tell him I apologize for not realizing who he is earlier. “It’s great to meet you, sir Lobo.”

The American chuckles, patting me on the head while telling me to stop being so formal. “You can just call me Max, we’re going to be working together, so why stick with last names?”

After that he takes a step back and studies me from top to toe. “You’re quite the scrawny young man, aren’t you?” Max places his hands on his hips and adds, “I thought Shunichi said you’re nineteen?”

I frown at him and say, “I am.”

“Nah, kid, I’m just joking.” Max chuckles, but I don’t think it’s an especially funny joke; I mean, I know I look pretty young even to other Japanese, but people don’t have to keep reminding me.

I take a deep breath and bite on the inside of my cheek, praying my colleagues here won’t be the same as the ones I had in Japan.

“Anyway, you’re right on time.” Max holds up the plastic bag that he’s been holding for a while now and hands it to me. When a look inside there’s a small pile of white clothing inside; my personal uniform, topped off with my very own nametag.

“You’ll have to remember to wash it yourself, but we’ve got washing machines in the basement in case you don’t have one yourself,” Max explains while leading me to one of the closest staff-rooms so I can put my uniform on. “You can come to the room all the way down the hall once you’re done putting on your uniform.” Before he closes the door of the locker-room behind himself, he tells me he also put a copy of my new patient’s medical chart in the bag. “Maybe you can read through it before you join me during his morning routine; it’s best if you already know the basic information.”

I do exactly as he tells me; putting on my uniform and pinning on my nametag before leaning against the wall with the file in my hands. I open the beige dossier, revealing a picture of a young guy stapled onto many papers with clinical and medical data, a list of medications and treatment plans. Multiple scans of the brain and scores of IQ tests are all included in the file.

Since it’s a weighty file with a lot of information, I decide that I’ll look into it once I get home this evening. But still briefly scan over his personal and clinical data as well as his treatment plans, just so I’ve got an idea of who and what specific Neurological disease I’ll be dealing with.

I soon find out that I’ll be taking care of a seventeen-year-old named Aslan Jade Callenreese. I’m actually shocked by the weight of his file when I see his age; he’s still so young, but he has collected that medical chart that puts shame to the ones most elderly at my old workplace had.

At first I think it must be because this is a bigger clinic that also does lots of research about disease to find a cure, and maybe they all put it the patient’s file, but it all starts to make sense when I see what Neurological disease this kid is dealing with.

B1, also known as one of the newest, most uncommon, neurological disease. In the past twenty years there have only been ten people diagnosed with B1 worldwide, and it’s widely known under nurses for its mortality rate of one-hundred percent; of course this teen has a file that could easily break a window if you threw it at one.

I stare down at the file, wondering why on earth they didn’t assign a more experienced nurse to this Aslan Jade Callenreese. Why me? Why not someone who could actually help them continue their research, so they can cure people from this terrible disease in the future?

That’s when I see the words in the corner of the medical chart. They’re in scribble handwriting, and they’re Japanese, saying “I know it’s not an easy patient, but you can do this Ei-chan!”.

I smile; of course Ibe-san was the one who made sure I got a copy of Aslan’s medical chart before I met him for the first time, and of course he needed to write an encouraging message in the corner before his tall American friend delivered it to me.

I close the file and hug it against my chest, nodding determinedly; I can do this.

I put everything I don’t need in my locker and walk down the hallway, telling myself over and over again “I can do this!” until I reach the last door all the way at the end of the long hallway. I look at the sign, checking if the name on the sign matches the name on the file.

“Aslan and Griffin Callenreese,” I mumble, reading from the sign.

I squint, wondering why there are two names on the sign when I’m only informed about one of them. And they have the same last name?

I shrug it off, trying not to think too much about it and instead telling myself that the more people are inside of that room the merrier before I lay my hand on the doorknob. As soon as my hand turns the metal doorknob, it sounds like the world explodes; not really, but kind of really.

“I don’t need your fucking help!” a guy’s voice shouts at such a loud volume that the windows might break if he isn’t careful. “Just don’t touch me! Leave me alone, old man!”

Suddenly everything goes silent, except for my heavy breathing.

It takes a moment for me to notice that I walked into the room in the middle of a discussion and that now all eyes are turned to me. The eyes of Max, who’s standing next to the only bed in the room with a black t-shirt in his hands, but also the intense green eyes of the scrawny teenager.

The model-like teenager is gorgeous, with his longer blond hair and intense eyes. But at the same time he it sends shivers down my spine; those same emerald eyes are staring straight at my soul, and it’s like Aslan’s judging every part of me as his intimidating voice asks, “Who on earth are you?”

I swallow, my entire body is telling me to run away, but I remain standing in the doorway forcing myself to wave good day while squeakily stammering, “H-Hi, I’m Eiji Okumura, your new caretaker.”

Chapter Text

Aslan Callenreese

5 Jul. 2018

A new caretaker? That’s really the only thing they could think of.

Nothing seems to be more important to Max. After I stopped trusting him with caring of literally my life, all he could think about was getting me some inexperienced nurse; instead of starting the process of developing a cure for this terrible disease, he got a rookie to take care of me.

“Since when do they employ kids?” I ask the foreign nurse, Eiji Okumura, as he’s clumsily trying to get the bottles of medication for the higher cabinets. It’s actually a mean move of Max to have them standing on the shelve that he can just get to them; he’s so much taller than this kid.

“I am—“ Eiji balances on the tips of his toes, just reaching the bottles. “—older than you, actually.” He turns around to me with an annoyed expression on his face.

I look at him pouting face, and seeing that he has the biggest baby face I’ve ever seen on someone, I cannot possibly believe that this boy is older than me. He’s fourteen at oldest.

I lean against the wall behind me, shrugging at his statement before looking out of the window.

I can see the entire courtyard from here, and even though it looks most beautiful around this time of year, I don’t feel like going outside. Just looking at it whenever I sit in the windowsill is enough to make me feel a lot calmer.

“Here, I got your medication.” The only thing that’s disturbing my peaceful and terribly short life, is this kid. With his awful accent and his vibe that screams rookie; he actually serves meds on a plate.

I look at the plate filled with everything from two types of anticonvulsants to inhibit my seizures all to way to the basic painkiller to make muscle wasting and headaches less unbearable.

“First off, you don’t have to serve them on a plate. Secondly, I don’t need them,” I mutter, turning away from the nasty medication that they’re forcing into my body daily with disgust. “It’s just junk.”

“What do you mean, you don’t need them?” Eiji asks me, placing the plate with medication next to me on the floor. “They’re making sure you don’t feel pain every single day.”

“Yes, like you say—” I turn back to Eiji, making sure to look him in the eyes when explaining, “—these pills make my life more comfortable, it’s not like they’re helping me have a longer life.”

Eiji frowns, clearly not getting what I’m saying. Because who would, all nurses and doctors think having a mildly comfortable few years to live is so much better than just being able to live a full life. So they fill you up with antidepressants, BETA-blockers, Diazepam and other junk every day just so you can live a so called comfortable life; these drugs don’t even take away the worst pain.

“What do you mean?” Eiji asks. “I mean, this medication sure must do something good, otherwise they wouldn’t be giving it to you for, how long? Three years?”

“Five,” I correct him. “And no, they don’t do anything. I’ll just rush through the stages just like everyone else, and in the end, I’ll die from this disease.” I close my eyes briefly. “Believe me, I’ve seen it all happen up close; you wither away and die, that’s just what Banana Fish does.”

“Banana Fish?”

I wince while biting my lip; I’ve said it wrong again. I promised myself I wouldn’t call it by that name ever again, not after—

“My older brother, he called it that,” I explain. “I mean, it has many names anyway. You call it B1. Professors call it by its long Latin name. And me? I call it how my brother called it.”

I always thought calling Banana Fish made more sense than calling it B1 or whatever its official name is. Griffin explained it to me one day, once I was old enough to understand. He told me that he had read about Banana Fish in a novel once, he always loved reading, and he thought it really applied to this disease.

He explained it like this “when you come across a Banana Fish in the sea, you suddenly feel like dying” and we both knew very well that once you enter stage 1 and the symptoms set in for the first time, the nightmares you start to have whenever you’re not wide awake will have you feel like dying.

But I don’t tell that to Eiji, even when he sits down beside me with his legs hugged to his chest eagerly waiting for me to tell him more about this alternate name; it’s a thing between Griffin and me, only the two of us call it that, and telling it to some outsider would feel like betraying Griffin.

When Eiji seems to realize that I’m not going to tell him more, he appears a little disappointed. And just when he seems like he’s going to open his mouth to ask another annoying question, the door swings open with a lot of noise.

“Good morning!” a cheerful voice echoes through my room as Shorter walks into the room with a breakfast tray. He does this every morning, some days I even get scared out of my nightmares like this; my only friend storming into room with a derpy-looking hairnet covering up his illegal Mohawk and smudges of food staining his white apron.

For as long as I remember, Shorter’s been helping out at the hospital. Until just a few months ago, he wasn’t old enough to get an official contract, but he still helped out daily ever since he was seven. Because his older sister works in the hospital’s cafeteria as cook, he’s been that cheerful boy who brings patients their breakfast every morning. And since Shorter’s only one year older than me, he and I soon became friends and have been for almost twelve years now.

“Morning, Shorter,” I reply dryly.

“Wow, you’re cheerful as ever, I see?” Shorter sarcastically answers, placing the tray on the over-bed table before walking over to me. That’s when he spots Eiji sitting on the floor beside me. “Ah, so you’re the young caretaker they employed?” He sticks his hand out to Eiji and winks. “Good luck.”

I roll my eyes. “Thanks for scaring the new kid.”

“I’m a grown up,” Eiji snaps back at me, before looking back to Shorter. Eiji gets on his feet before shaking Shorter’s hand and saying, “Eiji Okumura, nice to meet you—“

“Shorter Wong,” Shorter replies, smiling wide at the Japanese boy. “I was just joking by the way; Ash’s a good guy.” Shorter looks at me, holding out his hand to help me on my feet, even though I don’t need his hand. After I push his hand away, Shorter adds, “But he’s just a little grumpy.”

“Funny.” I squint my eyes at him when he winks.

After that I get on my feet and saunter over to my bed. I crawl under the blankets and roll the over-bed table closer so I can properly reach my food. It looks okay, but my appetite is gone as usual.

“Anyway, enjoy your meal, Ash.” Shorter walks to the hallway where his cart with other trays waits for him. Before he closes the door behind himself, he turns around and tells one of us, or maybe Eiji as well as me, good luck. I guess we both kind of need it in the end.

Chapter Text

Eiji Okumura

5 (and 6) Jul. 2018

“I’ve seen it all happen up close.”

Aslan’s words hit me deep, they bothered me. Things just didn’t make sense; the way Aslan seems sad all the time, the extra name on the sign of a room that clearly only held one bed and the way he talked about his older brother in past tense. It almost feels like I’m missing part of the story.

Even after I get home in the evening and read every part of his medical file, nothing makes sense.

Obviously it tells me that he’s got B1, which is a genetic disease, so I can assume his older brother suffers from the same disease. Which makes sense, as I take the other name on the sign’s his older brother’s name. But where is this Griffin, if he’s not in his assigned hospital room.

I lay my head in my hands, knowing that that isn’t even the biggest problem; I just got a new job and the person I’m caring for seems to literally hate me. He rolls his eyes whenever I talk, he snarls at me and if anything he doesn’t seem to trust me at all, even if I’m much younger than the other staff.

I decide to give it a rest for now, and to see how tomorrow goes; I mean, everyone has a bad day sometimes, so maybe Aslan is really a nice guy like Shorter said.

Falling asleep isn’t easy, but when I finally twist and turn enough that I’m too tired to stay awake, I sleep all the way to the next morning. The sunlight wakes me up, and I have a massive headache.

I drag myself out of bed and put on my uniform before walking to work earlier; I would go with Ibe-san in the car, like I did yesterday, but he had to work much earlier than me today.

Not much later, I saunter through the hallways of the hospital, a cup of cheap coffee being the only thing keeping me on my feet. I drink the last sip of it before heading towards Aslan’s room, repeating my morning tasks in my head before I go inside, so I don’t forgot anything.

When I wander into Aslan’s bedroom I see that the curtains are still closed, and Aslan’s still sleeping, even though it’s already half past nine; he should’ve woken up already by now, if my schedule’s right.

I open the curtains before walking over to his bed, crouching down beside him before saying, “Aslan, time to wake up.” But I get no reply.

He’s breathing at a rapid pace and, when I lay my hand on his shoulder to shake him, I notice that his shirt is drenched in sweat. His face also is scrunched up into a grimace as he pants.

He must be having a nightmare. I think to myself before calling out to him again; it may be better to just wake him up as soon as possible, because this dream can’t be nice. It takes a few more times of calling out to him before he shows response, and not the best one either; his hand shoots at my wrist, grabbing at tightly so I can’t even move it.

He’s breathing heavily, glaring at me with big eyes. His hands are shaking, his voice even more when he whispers, “G-Griffin?” Tears well up in his eyes as he stares at me and his face grows gloomy.

It grows even darker when he blinks and realizes that I’m not Griffin.

He swallows thickly before letting go of my wrist. His face is paler than it was yesterday and there are dark circles under his sunken eyes. He looks an unhealthy kind of exhausted, but then again I don’t know if I should worry about that, especially since it’s one of the symptoms of B1.

While briefly closing his eyes he tells me to give him some time alone.

“I think it’s best if I first take your vitals,” I tell Aslan, since that’s what I’ve been told to do as soon as he wakes up, especially when he’s sweating like this; he could have a fever. “It’ll only take a mi—“

“Just leave me alone!” he snaps at me, his eyes glaring at me intensely as a back away from him.

I swallow, looking at my feet before answering, “I guess I’ll be back in a minute.” With those words, and a lump in my throat, I walk out of the room. Where another fun surprise is waiting for me.

Max’s standing a little further down the hallway and as soon as he sees me exiting Aslan’s room, he starts walking in my direction. The expression on his face is worried.

“What was that about?” Max asks me. “I heard him yelling all the way down the hall.”

I glare at the floor, I would rather not talk about how Aslan’s screaming scared me half to death. But know it’s best to let Max inform me about what to do when something like this keeps happening.

“I think he had a nightmare, or a hallucination, not sure.”

“Those are common, especially for Ash,” Max tells me. “Did he take his Haloperidol already?”

I shake my head, telling him that Aslan just woke up and he actually refuses to take his medication.

Max takes a deep breath, telling me that if he refuses to take them, I should at least have him take the ones for his hallucinations, seizures and depression. “Those are the most important, I’d say.”

I nod. “I’m sorry.”

“Nothing to worry about, kid.” Max lays his head on my shoulder. “Ash isn’t an easy guy to deal with, especially since—“ Max’s face grows gloomy. “Never mind.”

I glance up at Max, and after taking a moment to gather the courage, I ask, “Did something happen? I feel like something I don’t know about happened, I don’t know what, but if it has to do with Aslan—“

“You deserve to know, I agree.” Max rubs with his hands in his eyes. “Ash’s going through a tough period in his life now. You see, Ash has an older brother, Griffin, who just recently passed away.”

I glance at the sign on the door, I knew something strange was going on with the two names.

Max touches it carefully, explaining me that Aslan didn’t want Griffin’s name removed yet. “It’s a big step for Ash, since he and his brother have been practically living here since Ash was six.”

“Since he was six?” I ask, thinking back to what I read in his medical form that said Aslan was diagnosed with B1 in 2013. “But he was only diagnosed five years ago? Right?”

“Yes, that’s true.” Max takes a deep breath, and I can see in his eyes that talking about this is hard for Aslan’s previous caretaker too. “Look, it’s hard to explain, but in short Griffin was diagnosed eleven and a half year ago. Since B1’s a genetic disease, we tested Ash too and found out that he had the same cerebral abnormality as his older half-brother.” Max explains me that, even though Aslan didn’t show any symptoms yet and practically still was in stage 0, and they didn’t know if he would actually start developing symptoms, they decided to monitor him closely.

It actually hits me hard that Aslan has lived in this clinic since he was six, all because his older brother gave their bodies to the science; they would be monitored for research for their entire life, in exchange for much lower hospital fees that Aslan’s older brother could actually pay for.

“The two of them have always shared a room,” Max continues. He smiles sadly when he tells me that Aslan and Griffin would have the biggest fun, especially when Griffin wasn’t that sick yet. “Only three months ago, Ash lost his older brother.” He pats me on the head. “So maybe cut him some slack when it comes to the medical stuff, and just try to cheer him up if you can, okay?”

I nod. And when Max walks away, and I have to go back into Aslan’s room again, I feel like I actually understand now; of course Aslan seems a little off. He lost his only family, I assume, and beside that he’s also seen what fate is awaiting him in the near-distance, that wouldn’t be easy for anyone, but it’s even harder on someone as young as him.

I walk into the room, repeating Max’s words in my head “just try to cheer him up”. And I don’t know if Aslan heard our conversation, or not, but as soon as Aslan spots me, he says, “I’m sorry about scaring you. J-Just don’t call me Aslan anymore, okay?” He’s not looking at me, but I know he’s serious about it, so I promise him that I won’t do that anymore.

Ash still looks a little guilty about what he’s done, even though he didn’t even really hurt me.

“D-Do I scare you?” he asks me in a soft and careful voice.

I swallow, knowing that Ash did scare me an awful lot by yelling at me. But that’s not what he wants to hear, nor what I want to have to tell him. So instead I shake my head. “Not at all.”

Ash nods, seeming relieved, yet disbelieving; he looks so guilty, so sad.

Cheer him up. I repeat to myself before smiling at Ash. “So, what shall we do today?”

Chapter Text

Griffin Callenreese

31 Dec. 2006

It all started with nightmares.

I started getting them a week or two ago; terrible nightmares that seemed to go on for forever.

Every time I closed my eyes they’d come jumping at me; distorted images of things, loud sounds causing my ears to ring and a fearful feeling that stuck me with me long after I woke up.

They would make me see things in the shadows, make me hear voices that told me to die.

And just two days ago, I started feeling even worse; aches spreading through my body like it did whenever I got a cold when I was younger. Feverish shivers started keeping me awake, as if the nightmares weren’t causing me enough insomnia, and I don’t recall sleeping ever since.

And today, even though it’s New Year’s Eve and I promised to take Aslan on a fun trip today, I’ve spend all day on the couch; shivering underneath a blanket, trying my hardest not to have another nightmare if I were to fall asleep. Telling myself over and over that it’s just a cold.

“Griff,” Aslan’s voice whispers in my ear, the only voice I can trust. “Come look at the fireworks.”

I want to open my eyes, but my eyelids are too heavy. I’ve been feeling like that a lot lately; just exhausted even though I’m not even following classes beside work anymore.

“Griff?” Aslan repeats, pulling at my sleeve.

I wince, mumbling, “Go outside to watch, I’ll follow you.” Just talking is exhausting, but that’s what I get for staying up all night just so I don’t have to deal with the nightmares.

Aslan’s little hands let go of my clothes, and not long after I hear his footsteps running down the hallway. The door opens, but doesn’t close; he’s too scared to get locked out of the house.

I feel like I could doze off a little and it probably wouldn’t hurt anyone, but Aslan thinks I’ll be following him out onto the fields and if I stay inside it’ll worry him. He may only be six years old, but I know he will get freaked out of I don’t come outside sooner than later.

So instead of allowing my vision to go dark, I force my heavy eyelids open. The world around me looks blurry, and if you’d tell me I’d need glasses, I’d believe you in the blink of an eye.

“Come on, legs.” I tap my tingling limbs to wake them up before dragging myself off the couch. When leaning on them, I have to use the wall as support, because otherwise I’d probably fall over; that’s how weak and achy my body’s feeling right now.

Fortunately, I’m strong enough to make it to the doorway, where I can lean against the doorpost as I watch Aslan. Standing is not that bad when I have something to lean against, and seeing that Aslan’s having such fun gazing at the evening’s first firework, there’s no reason not to stand a little longer.

“Griff!” Aslan waves cheerfully when he spots me standing on the doorway. Before I know it he’s running at me, shouting about how pretty the fireworks are. His hand wraps around mine and shouting, “Come watch!” before pulling me with him, out onto the fields.

Even though he’s pretty slow, I’m out of breath before we’ve even reached the place he was standing earlier. It’s only a few feet away from the house, but I feel like I’m running a marathon.

“S-Sorry, Aslan.” I try to breathe, but the air isn’t reaching my lungs. “I-I need—“ The world around me starts to turn, strange shadows and figures surround me; voices laughing as my vision tilts.

Everything’s blurring.

Ears are ringing.

Hurting.

Can I just die?

A bright light shining straight into my eye wakes me up.

“Okay, he’s got some extra dilation in his pupils, but the pupil-reflex is fine.” The voice talking is distorted, just like the images I see after the light fades. Blue and purple blemishing my view.

I see people in white coats, holding what could be torture devices.

“Blood pressure?” some voice I don’t know asks. To which a faint voice replies, “Too high.”

What happened? My own voice asks me. Where am I?

Someone moves into my vision, but I can’t see their face. I blink, hoping to see better, but I’m in a totally different room when I open them again; a bright white room with barely anything in it.

“Griffin!” a loud voice shrieks, causing a flash of pain to shoot through my head. Aslan moves into my field of vision, his big green eyes filled up with tears and his cheeks stained red. “You woke up!”

I blink twice, slowly but surely memories of New Year’s Eve start to come back to me; dizziness, falling, followed by nightmares that went on and on for what seemed to be an endless time.

I groan, trying to move, but grimacing when I feel something moving inside of my arm. When I slowly turn my attention to the place where the pain is coming from, I see that I’ve got an infuse in my arm. The thin line that’s suck to it leads from my arm to a bag of almost see-though fluid.

“W-What the—“ I mutter, but my tongue feels too numb to continue. I don’t remember talking to be so hard. And my voice, has it always been so slurred?

Aslan taps on my shoulder, looking into my eyes before saying, “I have to get the doctor. Wait.” After that he runs out into the hallway; they probably told him to get someone as soon as I woke up, but does that mean something very serious happened? I just remember fainting, that’s not such a big deal that a doctor has to be involved, is it?

But indeed, not long after Aslan leaves, he returns dragging a young nurse behind him. The nurse thanks Aslan for getting him, but soon tells my little brother to go to the atrium to play a little while he talks about some things with me. Aslan, being the good boy that he is, does what he’s told.

“Great to see that you’ve woken up.” The nurse appears slightly awkward when talking, almost as if he’s not used to dealing with patients just yet. He scratches the back of his head before walking up to the bed I’m lying in. “I’m Max Lobo, the nurse who took care of you while you were unconscious.”

I frown; if I needed someone to take care of me, then how long was I unconscious?

“There’s a lot I have to fill you in on, and I bet you must have a lot of questions,” Max continues while at the same time automatically putting my bed upright so I can see everything a little better. “But maybe it’s best if you take a moment to wake up. Can I do anything for you in the meanwhile?”

“Y-Yes.” I swallow, my mouth is so dry it’s hard to talk. “Water?”

Max’s eyes get big and he mutters, “Wow, I didn’t think you’d be able to talk already” to no one in particular before looking at me and smiling. “Of course, just one glass of water?”

I nod, and before I know it I’ve got a cup of water to drink from. Fortunately, while Max was fetching me something to drink, the fog in my brain cleared up a little and my limbs stopped tingling, so I can hold the cup myself; it’d been very uncomfortable if I would’ve needed help.

Once the last drip of water slides down my throat, my tongue feels much less heavy and I can finally ask, “So, what exactly happened?” after being mostly silent for so long.

Max looks up. “Your little brother said you suddenly collapsed. So he ran over to the neighbors, who called an ambulance.” Max smiles. “You’ve got yourself a smart brother, really. You probably wouldn’t have made it otherwise.”

I wince. “Was it that bad?”

“Well—“ Max takes a deep breath. “You have been unconscious for two entire days.”

I feel how my eyes get bigger in disbelief; no way. “And what about Aslan? Where’s he slept?”

“Your little brother’s been sleeping in that bed.” He gestures at the unmade bed beside the one I’m in. “After hearing the two of you live alone and seeing the circumstances we thought it might be the best plan. He’s safer here than anywhere else.” Max shows me a reassuring smile.

I nod, thanking him for taking care of Aslan while I was unconscious.

“If I were you I wouldn’t worry about him.” Max’s face grows more serious, and he averts his gaze when he says, “Rather, worry about yourself.”

“What?” I mumble; he sounds like I’ve got some deadly disease, like Cancer or something. “Why?”

Max takes a seat on the crutch beside my bed and I only now see the file in his hands. It’s a brown folder with my name written on it, and even though I’ve never been admitted to the hospital before, the medical file seems to be more than just a couple of pages long.

“W-What’s going on?” I stammer, my heart suddenly racing, because all I remember is the nurse’s taking out a file like that when they told my mother she was going to die within the next six months.

“While you were unconscious, we took some scans,” Max says, opening up the medical chart to show me a black and white picture of my brain. He points at a specific place, that’s also been marked with a red circle. “Now, I have to ask you, have you ever been told that you have a mutation in your Frontal Lobe? Maybe when you were younger, at some other hospital?”

I shake my head, taking a good look at the picture again. “I-Is it something bad?”

Max stays silent, too silent, so I ask it again; sounding much more urgent this time. To which he responds by taking a deep breath and saying, “I think it is definitely something to worry about, yes.”

“Then take it out of my brain!” I shout at him, panic causing me to raise my voice much more than I initially wanted to. I think it even scares him, the way I yelled, just like it scared me.

Max shakes his head. “I’m afraid we can’t do that.”

When I ask him why, he tells me that it’s not something like a tumor that they can remove surgically. “You can better see it as an abnormality in the way your brain works,” Max explains. “Even if we could take this infected cluster of brain cells out of your brain, it wouldn’t take away your disease.”

I frown, shaking my head. “No, you didn’t- I mean, you said it’s just a mutation? Not like a disease, like Cancer?” My breathing is getting heavier, yet much faster, I’m getting lightheaded. “I can live with this, right? Tell me I can live with this!” I’m shouting now. “I need to look after Aslan!”

“Griffin.” Max voice is calm when he reaches out to me. “I need you to breathe with me, slowly.”

He starts counting, telling me to breathe in slowly and breathe out slowly. And while doing that the tears start coming; only a few at first, but before I know it thick drips are running down my cheeks.

Max stays with me while I’m crying, handing me tissues, and water to drink, while rubbing my back calmly. And when I’ve finally calmed down, he tells me it might be better to schedule an appointment with Doctor Meredith tomorrow. “He can give you more details, inform you better.”

I shake my head, glancing at the file. “It’s all in there, isn’t it? The information?”

Max looks down at the medical chart too and nods once. “But I’m just a nurse, I can’t answer your questions properly. I really think it may be better to—“

“No.” I glare at him with determined eyes. “I don’t care if you can’t answer all of the questions I may have, just tell me what on earth is going on with me.” Tears are blurring my vision, but Max nods.

“Okay,” he replies, and seeing the sickening expression on his face, I almost feel guilty for pushing this, clearly new-to-the-job, nurse into this corner. But I have to know.

“Thanks,” I whisper, forcing myself to keep my calm for the rest of this conversation so I won’t freak the poor guy out even more; that’s the least I can do. “So, what am I dealing with?”

“We call it B1, it’s a genetic neurological disease caused by that abnormality in your brain,” Max explains, talking slow and calm so I can follow. “It’s very rare, there’s only been two stated cases before you, so we don’t know much about it. But the first set of symptoms usually sets it around late teenage-hood, early adult-hood. Starting with fatigue, fainting, seizures, increased blood pressure and pupil dilation; as we’ve seen in your case. And that cell mutation; B1, without a doubt.”

I swallow. This B1 is so rare, I’ve never once heard of it, but going from the way Max talks about it; it sounds dangerous, and I don’t like the sound of that. “W-What about the outlook?”

“To put it bluntly, you can think of it as something like Alzheimer, only affecting younger people.”

I close my eyes, shaking my head; of course I need to get something like that.

“It’s a brain disease, as you probably already expected.” Max’s eyes look into mine, and I’m convinced he feels bad. Especially when his voice breaks. “The mutation will spread through your brain, causing decreasing brain function, problems with memory and staying conscious and motor impairment.” Max swallows, his eyes completely red almost as if he’s trying not to cry even more so than I am; and I’m literally being pushed closer to crying with each word. It’s the drip, causing me to burst into tears, when he adds, “It’s fatal.”

My breath jolts as I wrap my hands over my face to hide my tears. In between sobs I manage to ask, “How quick?” I want to know, or rather, I have to know.

“There are five stages.” Max swallows. “We don’t exactly know how long—“

“In what stage am I?” I ask, looking up right away, praying to god that I still am in an early stage; that way, with so many stages there must be still a lot of time left for me to at least get Aslan raised enough that he doesn’t have to return to our father’s home anymore.

“We think stage 2,” Max tells me before closing his eyes briefly. His expression grows gloomy when I ask him how long I’ve got left, with sudden high hopes that I might still have some time to live.

“I’m sorry.” His hand rests on my shoulder. “I’d say you have one, maybe two years left to live.”

My body freezes up, the little hope I had left withers away; I might as well just die right now.

Chapter Text

Aslan Callenreese

9 Jul. 2018

I saw him, Griffin, in Eiji’s eyes.

It started out with my mind fooling me just once, but then it started happening each morning. Sometimes even more often, at random moments, like when he reaches out to me and smiles.

It creeps me out, seeing my dead brother in the person who’s taking care of me. Hallucinations cause me to not just see the resemblance, but they literally show me Griffin fading into Eiji.

I don’t know why it happens; maybe it’s because his smile looks like Griffin’s, or because he’s so kindhearted that even after I squeezed his arm so hard it had red welts on it afterwards, he still tried to cheer me up each day. But I think it’s because he called me Aslan, my real name; only Griffin called me that. And the way he said it, the tone, it just reminded me of Griffin too much.

It happened again this morning, when Eiji was fluffing the pillows that I use when I lay in the windowsill. He glanced in my direction and chuckled, “I don’t get how you lay comfortably on these pillows” sounding too much like Griffin, who said something alike that years ago.  

It felt like my heart shattered. And I must’ve lost control of my anger again, because I blacked out completely and when I came to I was on the floor, alone in the room, surrounded by pillows that looked like they were thrown. That was an hour ago, and I have barely moved since then.

I only got up to get the most recent picture I have of Griffin and me, so I can just cry for a moment. And that’s exactly what I do; looking at the very picture from when Griffin was still himself and I was still a little chubby with fourteen years old. I lost all that weight, like Griffin lost all his memories.

I remember taking this picture, it was only a couple of days before Griffin’s condition got worse.

Three years later he died.

Exactly three months ago, on the ninth of April.

That’s why I’m having a harder time today. Everything seems to remind me of Griffin, everything seems to hit me more than it usually would. I guess that’s what grief feels like after three months.

“I miss you, Griff,” I whisper, looking into his distant eyes. “I wish you were here now.”

A tear streams down my face when I remember how he would always be by my side to hold me when I was sad. He wouldn’t let me cry like this, not because I’m a boy, but because he couldn’t handle seeing me sad; he’d always say it would make him cry too, and he didn’t want that.

I dry my tears with the fabric of my t-shirt, smiling weakly at the memories of my brother.

I’m glad I dried them, my tears, because when I look up I’m staring straight into Eiji’s eyes. He looks worried, crouched down beside me. His eyebrows are perked up, almost like he’s asked something.

“Huh?” I mutter.

“I asked if you’re okay,” Eiji repeats.

I nod once, but at the same time tears start bubbling up again. I start crying, just like that, without a way to stop the sobs from coming. In between sniffles, I admit I’m not okay.

Eiji slumps down beside me, wrapping his arm around my shoulder. He pulls me up against him, like Griffin always would when I was crying and he knew all I needed was a shoulder to cry on.

Eiji does exactly the same, lending me his chest to curl up against while being calmly rubbed with the mouse of his hand. And I do the same as I always used to do, I bury my face in the fabric of his clothes and let it all out; there’s no reason to keep it in anyway.

I don’t even know for how long we sit there until one of us finally talks.

It’s Eiji, carefully asking me if I need something. “A tissue? A cup of water?”

My throat is dry and I’m convinced that a tissue would be nice after nonstop crying for god-knows-how-long, but I shake my head. I don’t want Eiji to leave my side, not now.

“Okay,” Eiji replies, staying silent for a long time after that, just holding me close.

I sniff once before sitting upright. I look into Eiji’s dark brown eyes while mumbling, “It’s been three months.” I swallow; I don’t want to tell him, but he deserves to know why I just cried on his lap for such a long time. “Exactly three months ago, I lost Griffin.”

Eiji nods once, before glancing at the picture in my lap. He looks at it for a while before asking, “Is that him, the guy in the brown cardigan?”

I nod, chuckling even though the tears start dripping down my cheeks again. Telling Eiji about how that old, nasty brown cardigan used to be his favorite piece of clothing. “He was only twenty-seven on this picture, but he had the fashion sense of a grandpa, really.”

Eiji giggles softly, before asking me what Griffin was like.

“He acted older than his age too,” I admit, especially when I was younger I always thought Griffin acted more grown up than most people his age. He was a year younger than I am now when he moved into another house with me and started working fulltime to keep himself and me alive. “He also was very caring and kindhearted, a little like you.” A lot, actually. “And he was very brave.”

Eiji smiles, but when I tell him that Griffin never seemed scared of something, not even of dying, his expression grows gloomy. He hesitates before asking me, “Are you? Scared of dying, I mean.”

“No.” I shake my head. “Nobody can escape death, everyone is mortal. I’m just a little higher on some reaper’s list, it’s my fate, and I’ve accepted that a long time ago.”

“Really?” Eiji gapes at me, just like I said something crazy just now.

I nod. “Really.”

Eiji leans with his head onto the side of my mattress, looking up at the ceiling. He takes a moment to think about it, before saying, “I guess you’re right, to some extent.” He turns to me and smiles kindly, telling me that he thinks that’s very brave of me. “I would be terrified.”

“Everyone is,” I tell him. “but it’s not the dying that you’re scared of, it’s the unknown that’s waiting for you.” I lean my head onto the mattress as well, and suddenly my face is very close to Eiji’s.

I turn to him and whisper the thing Griffin told me when I was just diagnosed and told him that I was scared of dying. “Think about it this way; you’re walking out onto the fields on a foggy morning. Even though you sometimes can’t even see what’s right in front of you, you’re probably not scared in the slightest.” I pause. “That’s the unknown. Whether it’s a misty field or death, it can’t be that scary.”

“Wow,” Eiji whispers after being silent for a while. “I never thought about it that way.”

I smile weakly. “Well, it’s just Griffin’s way of making things seem less scary.”

“Your brother loved metaphors, didn’t he?” Eiji teasingly pokes me in the side. “Are you like that too?”

“No, I’m nothing like that.” I chuckle. “But Griffin, well, he was a poet; finding resembles between two things and connecting them through vague sentences seemed to be his way of coping with life.”

“So, then what’s your way of coping?” Eiji glances at me.

I shrug, because I never thought about coping with anything; some days I find the need to cry, some days I read a book or ten to get my mind off things and other days I just space out for hours. But that’s when it hits me, the reason why coping with life has become harder over the past months.

“I coped by talking,” I say out loud. “Whenever I felt bad, I went to Griffin.”

Ever since he passed away, I’ve been bottling them up deep inside of me. Up to this moment.

Eiji looks at me, he seems to know what I’m thinking, because right when I need it he tells me this.

“That’s a good way of coping.” He smiles. “And if you need to talk, I’ll be here for you.”

Chapter Text

Eiji Okumura

12 Jul. 2018

Exactly three months after his brother passed away, Ash started to open up to me. And from that moment working with him became much easier; he’d actually listen, he started to trust me.

It wasn’t that we suddenly are best friends, I barely know him, but I’m starting to be able to read him without having him yelling at me. When he glares at me with intense eyes, he wants me to leave, and when he’s wincing a lot he’s about to cry or he’s in pain.

I recognize tics he has, like wrinkling his nose when he’s thinking and biting him lip when he’s hiding something, making him less perfect than I initially thought; it makes him a lot less terrifying, if you ask me, because he’s suddenly so easy to read.

I’m sitting in front of him and the chessboard’s standing on the over-bed table in between the two of us. While trying to think of the best move to make, his eyes look intense and his nose is wiggling and wrinkling just so slightly. He loves playing methodical games like this, thinking about the best ways to beat me in games like chess, card games and Cluedo.

I didn’t know this before, but apparently it wasn’t a typo like I initially thought when I read on his medical chart that he has an IQ of 200. Which makes sense, as he literally devours multiple books on the days that he’s bored, and he beats me at every single methodical game we plays.

He has great problem solving, and not to speak of how quick of a thinker he is; it’s certainly a shame that it all will be going to waste because of a devastating disease like B1.

He uses his knight to hit my queen, putting my king surrounded by his queen, rook and a bishop.

“Checkmate,” he says, folding his arms over each other proudly. “Again.”

This is his tenth time winning from me at chess in three days. Other than that he beat me in various card games, monopoly and Cluedo; yes, we play way too many games.

“It’s unfair,” I reply, because my IQ certainly isn’t as absurdly high as his.

Ash smile’s overflowing with pride. But at least I beat him when it comes to games of chance, where no method is involved, just pure luck. I beat him one time, one single time, and he has only suggested playing problem solving and methodical games ever since.

“Do you want to play another game?” I ask him, glancing at his bedside table that holds various games I suggest he played with his older brother when they were younger.

Ash shakes his head, glancing at the blue sky outside of his window. “I haven’t been on a walk for quite a while,” he tells me, before looking back at me. “Do you want to take a stroll together?”

I nod, not only because I feel like it’s a fun way to maybe get a little closer, but also because I know that fresh air is good for the brain; taking a stroll sometimes can really make you feel much better.

I get on my feet and put away the chessboard while Ash puts on his Converse shoes. I catch him struggling with tying his laces, but he eventually manages to get it done and we can head outside.

Outside the weather is perfect for walking, we walk past the blooming flowers and under the not-too-hot sunlight. We walk over the courtyard’s narrow pathways that are just wide enough for the two of us to walk next to each other.

“You limp,” Ash notes when he’s falling behind on me for a short while.

“Huh?” I ask, turning around to him.

He gestures at my leg, repeating, “You limp a lot when you walk. Did something happen?”

I smile weakly, telling him that I’ve limped for quite a while now. “I barely even notice it anymore.”

I bow down and pull up the leg of my pants to show him the braces that have been tightly bound around my leg. His face looks shocked when I explain that I used to be a pole vaulted before I started medical school. “I made a wrong landing, basically shattering the bone in my leg.”

“What?” Ash mutters, glaring at me in a way that might even include some empathy.

“I broke my leg and knee, leading to me having multiple surgeries led by the surgeon who later became my mentor,” I explain, remembering the big fall where I somehow landed beside the mat. I still remember the pain, even though all the other memories of that day are blurry.

I remember them telling me that it was a bad fracture, but I would walk again. Pole vaulting on the other hand, would become a difficult task; not only because I might not be able to run and jump, but mainly because of the memory that haunted me every single night; the way I fell, I saw myself leaping away from the mat and I knew what would happen but there was nothing I could do.

“They fixed most of it, though” I explain. “but it was a bad complete fracture and there were some complications during one of my surgeries which cause that I still can’t walk for without braces.”

I glance over to Ash, pull down the leg of my pants and start walking again.

"It's how I got into this line of work, actually," I explain. "I'd been unable to move much and I was at the hospital a lot back then. I just really got a good look at what they were doing, and I knew that's what I wanted to do."

"And that's how you ended up here?" Ash asks, I’m not sure if he sounds impressed or judge. "Because of a broken leg?"

I shrug, telling him that's kind of how it went; obviously quite some years went by between me shattering my bone and ending up in America to care for Ash, but I spare him the details of how I struggled to get by in school and I worked at a shitty Japanese hospital for a year before I got here.

"And you?" I ask Ash. "Have you always lived in New York, or how did you end up at this hospital."

Ash looks at me, almost in a way that asks my why on earth I'm asking him such question. But then he answers by telling me that he hasn't always lived in New York. "My half-brother and I used to live out in the fields of Cape Cod, but we were kind of moved to this clinic as soon as they found out that Griffin had a disease they couldn't treat anywhere." Ash closes his eyes briefly, strolling along the flowers. "I was just six, so I don't really remember, but I believe he hadn't even woken up and they already decided to move him to this clinic for research's sake."

I believe it's odd, normally they don't move unconscious people from their hometown to a hospital far away, but I guess it does happen with rare things like B1. If it’s for research’s sake.

We walk a little further, but Ash gets tired sooner than later. And, honestly, I'm pretty tired too after we've walked a small round through the courtyard together. But at least I got to know Ash a little better, and he got to know me.

By the time we're inside, Ash flops down onto his bed and, believe it or not, he's asleep within just seconds. He doesn't even wait until I'm out of the room, which allows me to see how calm Ash looks when he's not suffering for nightmares; so peaceful, so sweet, like the guy he used to be when he was younger.

Chapter Text

Griffin Callenreese

22 Jul. 2013

Never in my life has sitting inside been such a bother.

I wanted to go outside on a hot summer day like this, go outside in a t-shirt and without a blanket for the first time in months. But when I saw how even Aslan, who normally doesn’t at all seem bothered by the heat, had his long hair up in a ponytail even though we were in the air conditioner-air, I knew it probably would be too hot outside.

That’s what I thought at least, because Aslan hasn’t moved in hours; he’s just sitting in the windowsill with a book in his lap and his hair in multiple small ponytails.

Suddenly he looks over to me and asks, “Want to go outside for a bit?”

We’ve been here so many summers now, because I somehow have already lived double the time of what I was initially promised and have only just reached stage 3; I’m thankful.

Even though my legs have completely given up on me, Aslan still takes me out on daily morning walks through the courtyard. We’ve never missed one, so Aslan wouldn’t ever let us miss today’s walk.

I feel a smile appear on my face. “I would love that.”

Aslan puts his book away and says, “Alright, I’ll get Max to help you get in the wheelchair then.”

I nod and watch Aslan leave, even though deep down I still don’t like the fact that we have to disturb Max each time I want to leave my bed for just a minute. He’s a busy man, and when he’s not busy with work, he’s busy with his girlfriend, Jessica; so I don’t get why he just won’t show Aslan how the lift works so he can get me from my bed into the wheelchair himself.

I mean, he’s almost thirteen years old, and a strong enough boy to get that done, but apparently there are rules that keep Max from learning Aslan how the lifting device works.

“I’m back!” Aslan says, wandering back into the room with Max beside him. He clearly pulled Max right out of the cafeteria, because he’s practically still chewing on his lunch; the poor guy.

I wince before chuckling awkwardly. “Sorry, Max.”

Max chuckles, telling me that he’s glad to help. “But are you really sure you want to go outside?” He uses his arm to wipe the sweat off his forehead. “It’s quite hot outside.”

I shrug, saying, “We can’t miss our daily walk.” I glance at Aslan, who’s already getting the wheelchair out of it usual spot in the corner of the room. “Right, Aslan?”

“Yep,” Aslan replies, rolling my wheelchair closer to my bed.

Max smiles, telling us that it’s totally up to us while getting the transfer device all prepped. When shoving the sling underneath me, he does tell us not to stay outside for too long. “You might get heat stroke if you do, we really don’t want that now.”

I nod, I know what he’s talking about; having a heat stroke on top of Banana Fish would be like torture. It could maybe even be fatal for all we know, so we have to put a lot of sun lotion on our skin, take water with us and obviously take it slow.

After that, as soon as I’ve been hoisted into my wheelchair and I’ve got myself all greased with sun-lotion, Aslan and I are able to head outside. We go downstairs with the elevator, and all the way to the back of the hospital, through the cafeteria, to get to the big courtyard.

We walk past the pretty pink flowers and I can see the bees are working even harder today.

“It’s beautiful out today.” I close my eyes, turning to the sun so I can feel it on my face. “Don’t you think, Aslan?”

“You’re right,” Aslan replies, calmly wheeling me over the paved pathways. “Do you know a poem of this weather? Or the flowers? I would like to hear one again.”

I smile; Aslan’s never taken a liking to reading poems, not in the same way I do, he’s more of an informational book nerd. He could devour an entire book about how emotions are made, or about how the brain or the human body works, within a couple of hours, but get stuck reading poetry.

He only seems to enjoy hearing poems when I read them to him, or make them up myself for that matter. So I bury into my mind deeply, finding that I can’t seem to remember a single poem about a hot summery day like that; I know I must’ve read one somewhere, I just don’t remember.

“Let me think,” I whisper, trying to come up with one myself. “Busy bees, blooming Banana Shrub. Forage for pollen, nectar, water, try to gather all that could matter.” I groan, wincing at how bad it is; it’s just hard to come up with words out of the blue lately.

“It’s nice,” Aslan says, staying silent for a while before asking, “You made it up just now, didn’t you?”

“You noticed?” I chuckle; he hardly ever notices when I come up with one myself, but it’s happening more and more lately. “I must really be getting bad at it then?”

“Not bad,” Aslan replies, steering me onto a narrow pathway surrounded by bigger flowers. “Just different.” He goes quiet again and mumbles, “Like you’re forgetting which words matter.”

I think about it for a while, and he could be right. I know I always used complex words, good metaphors, but lately I just cannot come up with them. I guess that’s just part of life, and I have to deal with it. So instead of letting it get me down, I reply, “Guess I’ll use a dictionary next time.”

I get no response, not even one. Usually Aslan would at least let me know that he’s still there, by saying “yes” or humming, he’d reply, even if it’s just by chuckling at something that isn’t funny.

But now all that's left is silence.

I turn around when I suddenly hear loud, heavy breathing behind me. I catch a glimpse of Aslan’s sweaty face, just before he collapses onto the ground.

“Aslan!” I yell, jerking at the wheels of the wheelchair to turn around, but the pathway is too narrow for me to be able to turn. I try to look behind me, where Aslan’s lying on the floor, but I can barely see him; I can just see his feet, jolting uncontrollably as he lays there.

“Someone help!” I scream, before remembering the red button on my wheelchair. I press it, sending an emergency message to the reception; they can be here any moment.

I look behind me again, Aslan’s movements are getting worse and his breathing is strained and jolty.

Tears well up in my eyes when I realize how scared he must be.

When he suddenly starts moaning, loud and strained cries as the air gets forced out of his lungs, I push myself out of my seat; I have to calm him down, now. I drag myself towards my younger brother, seeing how tear-stained his face is. And I carefully let my hand rest on his cheek.

“I’m here, Aslan,” I whisper, stroking his cheek. “Your big brother’s here.”

The cries continue, his jerking movements only getting worse with every second that passes. And as I wait for someone to get to us, I dry his tears, brush his hair with my fingers and stroke his skin for comfort; to let him know that I’m with him, even if he can’t hear or see me.

Max and two nurses I don’t recognize come running at us sooner than later. They crouch down beside Aslan, immediately seeing to his state and making sure he keeps breathing even when his body’s barely allowing him to. And I get dragged away from him, even though he’s my younger brother and all I’m asking is to stay with him so he knows he’s safe.

“You have to give them space,” Max tells me, dragging me back into my wheelchair before taking me away from Aslan. And as soon as we reach a calm place, I feel my emotions slipping; I start sobbing.

Max’s hand rests on my shoulder, kindly squeezing it while telling me to let it all out.

“I-It’s just—“ I release a strained sob. For the first time in my life I’ve seen the one thing I didn’t want to ever have to see, Aslan’s going through the same pain as I did so many times already, see him get stuck in a scary situation like that obviously pains me. But that’s not even the worse. “Does this—“

Max nods, and tears start streaming down my face. “I’m sorry.” He pulls me into a hug, giving me a shoulder to cry on as I have to deal with the sad reality; Aslan’s suffering from the same fate as me.

Chapter Text

Eiji Okumura

24 Jul. 2018

Working is becoming more fun with each day that passes. Now that I know Ash a little better, I’m able recognize his good days and separate them from the bad ones.

On good days, Ash greets me with a smile and often makes jokes or sarcastic comments. He loves chatting on days like this, allowing me to be with him most of the days and letting Shorter to drop in during his break. On his good days, he even sometimes agrees on going out for a walk or eating lunch in the cafeteria instead of inside of his room.

I feel like that’s the Ash he used to be before Griffin passed away; a nice, cheerful and clever guy.

But he also has his bad days, like today.

Today I had to wake him up, because otherwise he would sleep until afternoon. He often suffers from nightmares that woke him up many times during the night, so by the time I wake him up he’s often jumpy, grumpy and sometimes even a little aggressive towards me.

I know he doesn’t mean it that way, so I just go with it even if I sometimes come home with bruises on my arms because he pushed me away too roughly or grabbed me too tightly. But my goal is to not get mad at him, because I know I would probably be about the same if I was in his shoes; terrified.

So, after getting yelled at just an hour ago, I’ve decided to keep more to myself today. I’ll give Ash some free space to withdraw, lay down in the windowsill and read a book or two, maybe browse the internet, while I help Max or Ibe-san out with some other tasks outside of Ash’s room.

I’m only in his room now, because I have to supervise until he’s had his vitals checked, taken medication and breakfast and is dressed before I’m allowed to leave him alone. That’s because those four things are important, and I know that he won’t do any of them if I’m not here to supervise.

He’s in the bathroom, cleaning and dressing himself, while I’m refilling his cabinets; getting his bottles of medication filled up, getting him some new towels and bringing back the clothes now that they’ve been washed and folded up nicely again. I have to do this each Tuesday.

I’m balancing on the tips of my toes, putting the bottles back, when I suddenly hear a loud thud. It’s ear deafening, almost loud enough to make the cabinets shake. And it came from the bathroom.

“What happened?” I shout, not getting any response. “Ash?”

I wander over to the bathroom door, listening with my ear pressed up against the surface. When I hear groaning on the other side of the door, I reach out to above the door where the spare key lays.

“I’m coming in,” I warn, struggling to get the key into the keyhole since I’m shaking so much; what if he fainted, or he’s having a seizure, or cardiac arrest? I turn and barge inside.

What I discover, fortunately, isn’t as bad as I expected it to be.

Ash is lying on the floor with a grimace on his face. His sweatpants are halfway on and he’s probably hit his head against the wall. He doesn’t appear to be hurt as he soon tells me that he’s fine, “I just tripped while putting on my pants.” He winces uncomfortably when sitting upright. “Nothing bad.”

I still crouch down beside him to check if there isn’t any damage done to his scalp, but there’s no bleeding or bump to be found. I guess he really didn’t fall as hard as the crash made it sound.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” I tell Ash, showing him a relieved smile. “I was worried there.”

“I’m tougher than I seem.” And he really is, because even though he all his ribs show making him look so fragile, Ash doesn’t at all appear hurt by literally crashing into a wall.

Ash glances away before asking, “Now, can I please continue putting on my clothes?”

I gasp, suddenly uncomfortable about walking in on Ash dressing. I nod apologetically, because hastily making my way out the bathroom. And when I close the door behind me, I release a sigh; I’m so glad Ash didn’t just pass out on me, even though I know first aid, that would’ve been pretty scary.

But even though nothing like that happened, it is still very worrisome and I know I have to report it to Max later today, no matter what. He needs to give me advice on what to do with this.

I’ve just returned to refilling the cabinets, when Ash strolls out of the bathroom. He looks exhausted and he’s rubbing the back of his head as he saunters back to his bed.

He looks a little clumsy, wobbling on his feet as he crawls into his bed, groaning softly.

“Are you feeling okay?” I ask, when Ash’s settled under the blankets.

His green eyes glare at me from across the room. His face is emotionless, until he grimaces and admits that he’s feeling a little strange.

“Strange how?” I ask him. I might as well ask him about how he’s feeling while I’m gathering the things I need for checking his vitals; whether I ask some things now of then won’t matter.

“I don’t know.” Ash shrugs, his gaze following me around as I walk towards his bed and take a seat on the uncomfortable crutch. “Just strange.”

I lean closer, lying down my pen and today’s chart on the bedside table.

“Are you okay with me doing the questions first today?” I ask Ash, because I know he really likes it when I keep to the structure of taking his vitals before I start asking the needed questions.

Ash shrugs.

“Okay, in that case, do you have any pain?” I ask him, because I know he’s clearly hurting somewhere, especially after that fall he had earlier.

“I do,” Ash says, grimacing at just the sound of his own voice. “My headache’s killing me.”

I nod, writing it down. “Did your headache appear before or after collapsing?”

“Before.” Ash closes his eyes. “But it got much worse.”

“Other than that, do you have any other pain or discomfort?” I want to know.

Ash tells me that his headache is making him a little dizzy and nauseated, but that’s all. Other than that he apparently doesn’t have any physical pain, even though I can see he’s wincing and clenching his fist with each time his left arm contracts; I decide not to ask about it, but just to write it down and note to myself that I have to make sure he takes the medication against muscle spasms today.

“How are you feeling other than that?”

“Tired.” Ash looks exhausted too. I know black circles, pale skin and sunken eyes are all signs of B1, but even for someone suffering from that disease, he looks very exhausted. “I barely slept.”

“Nightmares again?”

When he nods sadly, I actually feel bad for him, if I could switch one night with him so he could have a good night rest, I’d do it in the blink of an eye. Just so he could catch up on all that missed sleep.

“Are seated right?” I ask when I see his body making small jerking movements. I’ve seen him do that before, and the cause was that his pillow wasn’t lying right, causing his muscles to act strange.

He shakes his head. “Not really, no.” Before turning around to reposition his pillow.

It worries me when he tries to reach for his pillow and instead knocks down his glass over water, causing it to fall onto the floor and shatter into pieces.

“Shit,” Ash mumbles, withdrawing his hand and glaring at it. I know he’s thinking the same as I am; that’s poor coordination, much worse than I’ve seen him have previously. Normally I see him struggling with buttoning his shirt for instance, but never have I watched him completely miss the object he’s reaching for. It must be a first time, because Ash shocked himself.

“Here, I’ll do it for you.“ I get on my feet, fluffing up his pillow, even though I know Ash hates it when I do things for him. He doesn’t like the help, but he might knock off even more things if he tries again.

“Thanks,” he mumbles, but he doesn’t avert his eyes from his shaking hands.

I take a calm breath, telling him he shouldn’t worry about it too much. “It’s probably just because you haven’t had your acetazolamida yesterday, remember?” I try, but I know Ash isn’t stupid.

I look at the broken glass on the floor, feeling sick to my stomach by just looking at it; the both of us know that this shattered glass is just the start.

Chapter Text

Aslan Callenreese

28 Jul. 2018

It started with shattered glass.

But it was soon followed by me bumping into things, knocking things over and even tripping over things that have been in the same place for god-knows-how-long. Still, I tried to ignore it.

No matter how many times I bruised myself by walking into a door or I spilled water on my clothes while drinking out of a normal glass or mug, I just kept telling myself it was a one-time thing.

I am not losing my independency like Griffin did.

But after I tripped while showering and bashed my head open on the tap, Eiji got too worried, and I can’t blame him. Even though I barely bled and the hole in my head didn’t even need stitches, I get that he found it needed to reschedule my appointment with my physiotherapist.

Today’s the day, I’m going to Blanca to see how bad I actually am doing. And I know the results won’t be what I would like them to be; I mean, I couldn’t walk in a straight line to safe my life.

It’s gotten so bad that on my way to the neurological physiotherapy area, which is just down the hallway and then around the corner, I needed Eiji to guide me. Otherwise I would probably end up walking into a wall or trip over my own feet.

“Are you ready?” Eiji asks me as we’re walking down the hallway.

I shrug. “I guess.” Actually I’m nowhere near ready. I mean, I’m not scared of Blanca or physiotherapy, because it’s a monthly check up anyway, but I am scared of having to face my problems and fears now. I’ve been trying to ignore them, but now I can’t anymore.

Eiji seems to notice, because his grip around my arm suddenly tightens. And when I look at him I can see he’s biting the inside of his cheek. We’ve grown pretty close over the past weeks, so maybe he’s scared too? I’m not sure, but he seems like the type of person who’s too empathic for his own good.

We stay silent until we reach the sport hall with the big windows.

I close my eyes briefly when I see the parallel bars standing in the middle of the room. I know I won’t need them just yet, I can walk just fine, but I can still see Griffin struggling to keep himself upright. I remember standing at the windows to watch him as Blanca had him do all sorts of activities. They tried to keep Griffin physically strong with all sorts of treatments, from muscle stretches to rough workouts. But by the time he was twenty, Griffin couldn’t walk anymore, not even when using bars.

“You look very pale,” Eiji tells me. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

I glance at him and force a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.” I let go of his arm, because going inside can’t be too hard. I wave at him before laying my hand on the doorknob. “I’ll see you later today, okay?”

Eiji smiles and nods. “Yep, shall I pick you up here?”

I shake my head and tell him there’s no need to. Blanca probably won’t let me go if I can’t navigate on my own, so I’m either able to go back to my room myself or Blanca will return me safely.

After that I go inside, telling Blanca that I’ve arrived; he’s not inside of the big hall, so he’s probably just in the walk-in closet to get the materials he thinks we’ll need.

I just take a seat on the bench, making sure to feel it underneath me before I sit; I don’t want to make that mistake again, because it actually kind of hurt when I sat down beside a chair. I wait patiently and before I know it Blanca wanders into the room, carrying a plastic box with materials.

“Good afternoon, Ash.” He greets me with a polite smile. “I heard you weren’t doing great, huh?”

I shrug and explain that I’ve been bumping into more things lately.

“Yeah, your new nurse. What’s his name, Eiji? He told me you seemed to have reduced motor skills.” Blanca puts down the plastic box with a lot of noise. “So I gathered some small things we can do.”

I look at the box, seeing things like a robe, a ball, pen and paper and a maze.

Blanca pats on the ground in front of him. “Come sit here, we’ll start right away.”

I do as I’m told, sliding my way from the bench onto the floor to where he’s sitting. The first thing I’m given is a pen, and piece of paper and Blanca tells me to just write my name, age and where I’m born in one good sentence.

I write slowly, since my hands are shaking a lot and with annoying spasms causing my hand to jerk it’s not easy to write. But I feel like I’ve done pretty well until I back up and see what I wrote. It isn’t what I wrote that’s the problem, but it’s rather how I wrote it; the letters are squiggly and shaky and even though there are lines on the paper, the words go down in a curve.

Blanca looks at the paper, and even I am able to read shock off of his face. I know he’s thinking the same as me, because this writing, looks exactly like Griffin’s looked when he still could write.

“Okay, thank you.” Blanca shows me a polite smile, taking the paper in his possession, before giving me the next assignment. A maze that I need to trace and even though I expect it to be harder than writing, making the maze goes pretty well and I complete it within no time.

Blanca looks relieved when he sees that I’m still able to make a hard maze without taking any wrong turns, even though the lines are pretty shaky if you ask me. I’m also very glad it went so easily, because this disease might take away my motor skills, but I cannot let it take away my brain function without putting up a fight first.

Besides doing a couple of more tasks, to test my fine motor skills, Blanca also lets me do some things like rope skipping, running and using a basket ball to dribble and throw. This goes less than alright; I trip over my own feet, can’t seem to hit the target and I keep differing from the road I have to walk causing me to either fall over or bump into things.

Besides that, I’m exhausted after just one hour of doing such activities, while usually we’d be running on a conveyor band and doing intensive stretches with weights for an hour straight.

Blanca doesn’t look very happy either. “I need you to listen closely, okay?”

I nod, focusing every inch of my body on Blanca as he tells me he’s worried about me. “I think it’s best if you take next week’s scans and IQ test tomorrow, just to make sure—“ He pauses.

“Make sure, what?” I ask him, leaning closer in despair; I hope he’s not thinking what I’m scared of.

“Well, I think you may have entered stage 4, Ash.” His expression is grim.

Exactly what I didn’t want him to say, because I know exactly what that means; first my motor skills will start dropping drastically, then my brain function, I’ll become depended.

“Just to make sure to have you practicing as much as possible,” Blanca continues. “I want to see you again next week, so we can do some extra exercises and maybe also to start speech therapy.”

I shake my head, glaring at him in terror. “But I can speak just fine. Why already start?”

Blanca sighs, looking stern when he says, “You saw how fast it went with Griffin, he—“

“I’m not him!” I shout, my voice breaking. “I’m not Griffin, okay?”

“Still, Ash.” Blanca looks at his lap. “I think it’s smart to start speech and swallowing therapy as soon as possible.” He’s serious about this, because he can also see that I’m going backwards quick. “And I’m also going to get you a crutch, just to make walking easier on you; it’ll give you a chance to at least stay independedly for as long as possible.”

I nod, there’s no point in going in against it. So that same afternoon, I walk out of the therapy hall with a crutch in my hand and a knot in my stomach.

Chapter Text

Eiji Okumura

29 Jul. 2018

Yesterday, after Ash got back from his appointment with Blanca, his mood took a turn for the worst. Where Ash was in an amazing mood before he went, he came back grumpy and gloomy; I didn't know what happened until I talked to Max that evening.

Max told me that Blanca reached out to him, telling him that Ash had possibly reached the next stage. It was up to me to take the tests and scans needed to find out if this really is the case.

That'll be my job today, which caused me to be basically up all night because I'm nervous.

After I take these tests and scans, Ash'll have to find out whether his B1 is progressing quicker than expected; I mean, he has been in stage one, two and three over the course of five years, and now suddenly he's reached stage 4 within three months.

That's strange, actually, but it's what's happening.

"Good morning," I say when I walk into the room later than usual; I had to grab all the things I needed for the smaller tests, so I took me longer to get ready. I'm so late that Ash is already awake. "How are you feeling today?"

Ash looks at me, shrugging, but I can see in his eyes that he's feeling just as sad as yesterday evening.

"Ready for today's tests?" I ask, trying to make it sound like a fun activity and not like a way to find out how quickly Ash is dying.

Ash shrugs again, but his expression might even look a little sadder.

I sit down beside his bed and tell him it's going to be okay. "We're just going to take these tests, and you're going to see you're alright."

Ash's glance is skeptical, but he then smiles. "Sure."

Maybe he's doing it to make me feel better, maybe he's actually happy to have his nerves calmed down before a test. I don't know, but I hope it's the latter, because I don't want him doing it for me.

"So which one do you want to start with?" I ask him. "Just the vitals? The IQ test? You can choose."

Ash looks at the box in my hands and eventually tells me it's best if I start with the vitals, so he can wake up properly before taking the important IQ test. And I do exactly as he tells me, checking his temperature, pulse, blood pressure, respiration rate. I also take a look at his skin, which is pale as usual, and his pupils, which are just as dilated as ever.

"Now that that's done," I mumble, after writing it down. I get out a pile of papers and a pen. "Time for the IQ test. I'll try not to distract you, okay?"

Ash nods, taking the pieces of paper from me.

I just sit down at the other side of the room; I've been told to closely watch him as he makes the test, because we also have to know whether he gets stuck on questions or appears to have a harder time than he usually should. Now I don't know how Ash usually makes these tests, but I don't think he's thinking of this one as extra hard; he flies through the questions like he's making elementary homework.

After about fifteen minutes, Ash looks up from the piece of paper and says, "I'm done."

When I ask him what he thought of the test, hard or not, he shrugs and says it seemed a little more difficult than some other tests he'd taken in the past, but really not a lot; it still was kind of easy to do.

"I'm glad," I reply, and I really am. Even though I know it's going to happen sooner than later, I don't want Ash to lose everything, and I know he doesn't want that either. So I'll be here, making sure it takes as long as possible, though I don't know how I'll do that just yet.

Ash nods. "Yeah, I'm glad too."

His expression changes, because he too knows we still have a lot more things to do before we can say we're glad about the results.

We head to the radiology department, slowly as  I don't have the fastest walking pace and Ash got a lot slower now that he has to walk with a crutch. And on our way we walk a little about how Ash's been feeling. Obviously I do checkups every single morning and evening, but Ash knows these are all documented, and might hold back some things.

Now I ask him, without pen and paper nearby, how he's doing lately.

"Been better," he admits. "It's not great to feel yourself getting worse. Get what I mean?"

I nod. "I can imagine, it must be hard indeed."

I glance at Ash. He looks a little sad, but when his eyes meet mine he smiles. He tells me he's just glad he doesn't have to do this alone, which he thought he would have to once his brother passed away. "But then you appeared." Ash takes another step. "And I wasn't alone anymore."

"I'm glad you don't have to do this alone as well," I tell him. "But even if I didn't come here to work, you wouldn't have been alone. You've got Shorter and Max, and probably other people I don't know yet."

Ash shrugs. "I guess you're right, but even though Shorter's a great friend, he cannot be by my side at all time." His expression grows gloomy. "And don't even make me start about Max, he's done too much to even make him regain my trust."

Just like that Ash's mood seems to have taken a turn for the worst. But he acts like nothing's going on when we reach the radiology department. He just lets me take the MRI scan, like I asked and did nothing wrong, but I know deep down I said something I shouldn’t have.

It isn’t until we get back to Ash’s room that he gets all sulky again. I’m sure it has to do with him being nervous, because I have to go and take a look at the results with Max, and after that he’ll know whether Blanca was right or not. But deep down I feel like it had something to do with what I said.

I feel guilty, as I walk down the hallway with Ash’s medical chart pressed up against my chest.

I feel guilty for having to leave Ash alone when he’s nervous like this, and for mentioning Max earlier even though I know dead-well he doesn’t trust Max in any way; I wonder what he’s done to lose Ash’s trust after basically taking care of him and his brother for most of their lives.

Maybe, some day in the future, I’ll ask Ash what happened. But for now it’s more important to make sure that Ash’s condition doesn’t keep worsening this quickly.

I arrive at the office where Max and I promised to meet up around this time. Here we look at the IQ test which proofs that he still has an exceptionally high score. Even though one-hundred-ninety is lower than the two-hundred he previously had reached with IQ tests, he’s still very smart.

His brain function has gone down somewhat, but fortunately not enough to show us signs like really forgetting things, or an extremely lowered IQ.

It’s mainly his motor skills that are the most worrisome and with how much it’s going backwards, it really proofs that something in Ash’s brain is not functioning.

It makes it clear that we’ve got to break the news to Ash, and it’s my job to do that.

Chapter Text

Aslan Callenreese

30 Jul. 2018

Fear took over all of my emotions when the words left Eiji’s mouth.

Yesterday, it was up to him to tell me that I’d in fact reached the fourth stage. My Banana Fish is developing faster, much faster, than Griffin’s.

I never feared death; it’s just a foggy field. But suddenly it feels more like crossing a busy highway on a misty day, with speeding cars ready to crash into you with every step you’ll take. That’s much scarier than crossing a field and maybe coming across a cow or a bird.

Nothing like Griffin made it out to be.

This night was hell, because my brain was running wild. It had me thinking about slipping away, dying, just like Griffin did. It has me more scared than ever before.

Normally talking to people would keep my mind off things, but today even that doesn’t seem to be an opportunity. I tried talking to Eiji this morning, and though he listened to me like he always does, I still felt bad when he eventually had to leave for to pick up my new treatment plan.

And now’s Shorter’s here; he got here as soon as his morning-shift was over. Sitting next to my bed, trying to keep my mind off the terrible news I got yesterday afternoon.

But this, too, doesn’t seem to help as well as it normally would. Nothing seems to take away the cold chills that keep running down my spine. I stay silent and feel terrified.

“So, I was walking through the hallway with three plates on each arm,” Shorter tells me in an enthusiastic tone. “And I remember thinking to myself I can balance these plates on my arms pretty well at the exact moment I dropped all six dishes!” He laughs, before scratching the back of his head awkwardly. “Yeah, Nadia had to make them all from scratch, though.”

I chuckle a little, trying to make it appear like I’m actually listening to his story even though I can’t focus on a word he says. My head feels cloudy, like it’s filled with fog, and the only thoughts that manage to get through that thick mist are the ones that make me feel even worse.

“Ash-“ Shorter’s hand rests on my shoulder, rubbing it just so lightly.

I glance over at my best friend, who suddenly doesn’t look cheerful anymore. There’s worry in his eyes and he sounds sad when he says, “Are you okay?”

I swallow, smiling weakly before answering, “Yeah, I’m okay.” I want to add that I’m nowhere near fine, not at all, but at the same time I don’t want to worry Shorter. He’s putting so much effort in cheering me up, in just trying to make me feel fine, but I just can’t feel it.

“You haven’t eaten a thing-“ He gestures at my plate which is still full of food, not even one bite taken. “- are you sure you feel alright?”

I suddenly remember the reason he’s here. He’s probably here because Eiji couldn’t be with me during breakfast, and I didn’t eat anything back then, so Shorter decided to watch over me during lunch so I would eat. And even when he’s by my side, I can’t even eat.

“My stomach’s a little upset.” I close my eyes briefly, because it’s not my stomach that’s upset; practically every part of my body, my brain, is upset. “That’s all.”

Shorter takes a deep breath. “Okay, but please, try to eat a little bit.”

I see his eyes moving to my t-shirt. It’s very oversized, but it fit perfectly around my body just a week ago; that’s how much weight I’ve lost over the past week. It’s not like I could help it that I had to vomit after every meal, I don’t want to lose weight, I just can’t keep the food inside of me.

“Okay,” I reply, taking hold of the fork. “I’ll try.”

Shorter smiles at me weakly before telling me he’s glad that I’m willing to try. That’s possibly because he knows my weight is far below normal, but it could also be because he’s also aware that if I eat any less than I already do they’ll have to give me a gastrostomy tube for feeding and medication.

I crookedly press the fork into the pre-sliced meat. It takes so much effort to even get it onto my fork.

“Anyway,” I mumble, trying to take Shorter’s attention off my shaky hand. “How did Nadia reply when you came back with six broken plates and ruined meals?”

Shorter starts talking about how Nadia was pretty mad, and how she’s actually crazy scary when she gets frustrated with people; especially when she’s annoyed with her little brother.

But all I can focus on is how madly my fork is shaking when I’m taking it up to my mouth. Painful spasms cause my hand to jerk back and forth, while before bringing food from the plate to my mouth was the easiest part about eating. If this is how quickly my body’s going to give up on me, I’ll be eating blended food, fed to me by someone else, in no time.

I’ll be dependent.

The fork comes to a jolting halt. My arm won’t move anymore, it only hangs there halfway in the air, uncontrolled shaking and shivering being the only movements it makes.

I stare at it with big eyes, knowing that if I can’t get the fork to my mouth anymore, I’ll have to rely on people for something as easy as eating. I won’t be able to do even something like that myself.

Something clatters against the floor and when I look at my empty shaking hand, my vision goes blurry and everything seems to go numb little by little. Almost like I’m being pulled out of my skin.

“Ash?”

I hear Shorter’s voice slowly turning into a high-pitched sound. It keeps bugging my ears, causing my head to feel like exploding. My heart is banging against my ribs, almost slamming right through them.

“Ash!” Shorter repeats, louder this time.

I stare at him, the vibrancy of the ends of his hair causing my vision to blur even more.

I open my mouth to speak, but no sound comes out. I just want to ask for help, for this pain and fear to end right here and now; instead it gets only worse with every second that passes.

My stomach swirls, I can feel the little food I ate making loops like they’re in a rollercoaster. I feel it climbing up my throat and not long after I feel really weak.

Arms wrap around me, but I can’t tell if they’re unsettling or comforting.

I hear screaming in my ears, but I cannot seem to understand the language; nothing that’s being said makes sense to me anymore. It’s like listening to a foreign radio, like an un-understandable mess.

I’m shaking, twitching. Breath’s jolting. Heart racing.

I feel weak, tired, exhausted, but I can’t stop doing whatever’s making me feel this way.

Not until a cold hand touches my cheek, rubbing it as carefully as one can. The stroking fingers cause me to start crying, harder and harder until I can finally see through my tears again.

I’m looking at Eiji, right into his deep brown eyes. And his hand’s still carefully moving over my cheek.

“E-Eiji,” I whisper, my voice strained and shakily coming out of my broken body.

“It’s okay-“ He sits down on the bed, right beside me, resting the palm on his hand on head as he smiles sheepishly. “It’s just a little fever, you’re okay, Ash.”

I feel myself smiling for real for the first time today. I let myself smile because Eiji’s here, and I’m not dead yet, but also at the same time I’m breaking deep inside. The fear has only gotten more intense, because I just realized that Eiji’s the big reason I keep coming back; the reason I want to live.

The reason why I’m scared to die.

Chapter Text

Eiji Okumura

30 Jul. 2018

When I was doing some tasks like washing Ash’s clothes, getting him new meds and reading up on his new treatment plan that Max, Blanca and I compiled, Shorter suddenly came running at me. I thought he’d be with Ash for lunch, but he was running down the hallway, shouting my name loudly.

He told me that Ash was having a panic attack, but when I followed him into the room, it looked more like he was having an epileptic episode.

I managed to calm him down and he regained full consciousness within a minute or maybe two.

He was running a bad fever and he complained about muscle aches soon after catching his breath, so I brought up his dose of anticonvulsants and gave him a stronger painkiller.

About five hours ago, his fever started going down, but he hasn’t been himself. Unlike usually, he’s been confused and sleepy, but I guess that’s also part of just coming back from an episode.

He’s been sleeping for almost the entire afternoon, with me watching over him so he doesn’t throw up everywhere and in case his fever comes back again. Sometimes he’s up for a short time, after waking up from a nightmare screaming and drenched in sweat, but other than that he just rests.

I’m glad he’s able to rest, don’t get me wrong. But when he’s barely been awake by the time I’m heading home, I am starting to get a little worried about him.

I crouch down beside his bed one last time before I’ll be walking back to my apartment.

For once he’s not wincing and grimacing in pain, or wrinkling his nose to think deeply. For the first time I see Ash’s face in a complete state of calm. His face looks so worriless when he’s sleeping, almost like he isn’t suffering from world’s worst nightmares.

“Good night, Ash,” I whisper, taking a look at his calm expression. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

I turn my back to him and start walking towards the door. My hand’s just barely touched the doorknob when a soft whisper sounds from behind me. “Stay with me.”

I look behind me, seeing the green of Ash’s eyes in the dim lit room.

His hand is shakily reaching out to me as he whispers, “I won’t ask forever, just for now, Eiji.”

I smile weakly, walking back to his bed. I sit down the side of the bed and look at him. He looks right back at me as tears well up in his eyes. And when my hand brushes past his cheek, he lets it flow.

Never in my life have I seen so many emotions on one face before; there’s relief, pain, fear, sadness.

“I-I’m so scared,” he whimpers, burying his face in the palm of my hand. “I- never have I been scared of dying-“ He releases a pained sob. “- but I’m terrified all of a sudden.”

I stroke his wet cheek and tell him it’s okay to be scared. “Your future is nothing to take lightly, Ash.”

His face scrunches up in pain, in fear.

“So keep remembering that it’s okay to be afraid.” I smile at him. “But also remember that I’ll be holding your hand when you’re crossing that foggy field, that way nothing can be so scary.”

I wrap my hand around Ash’s and it stops trembling. At first he looks at his hand, but then he looks at me. He glares into my eyes, his mouth gaping just so slightly as the tears stream down his cheeks.

“Y-You promise?” he whispers in between falling tears.

I nod, and squeeze his hand reassuringly. The both of us go silent after that and everything feels like it’s actually going to be okay, like it’s not going to be a terrifying road for Ash.

But as soon as I lay down in bed myself that same evening, I feel restless. I cannot keep my mind from drifting to Ash’s face and the fear and sadness his tears contained.

I don’t want to see that pain ever again, though I know it’s only just the beginning of a long tough period in Ash’s life. I did my research, had my long talks with Max, and I know what’s waiting for Ash; it’ll be nowhere near easy for him, and there’s no way to save him from it.

I close my eyes briefly, trying so hard to fall asleep, but Ash’s words keep echoing through my head. His voice telling me how scared he suddenly has become now that he’s reached stage four, how badly he wants to stay alive even though he knows he won’t be able to.

It just hurts to think about it that way, because the person who wants him to stay alive even more than I do, is Ash himself; he wants to live, even though he hasn’t allowed himself to want that.

I open my eyes, staring out into the darkness, knowing darkness is all that awaits Ash. And there’s no way to keep that from happening; if only there just was something I could do to help him.

I wish that, just that, even though I know there is no cure.

A cure.

My heart skips a beat.

What if there is a way to make a cure after all? I think to myself, sitting upright with my heart slamming up against my ribs. What if we still can try to make a cure, to safe Ash!

I throw the blankets off myself and run down the hallway; I have to write this down.

“No, even better,” I whisper to myself, chancing my direction to the door. I’ll just tell Ibe-san about it, I’m sure he can talk Max into starting the drug-experimenting they stopped a couple years ago back up again. I mean, there might not be any specialized professors who want to stick all of their time and effort in such a small and rare disease, but I have a brain too.

If I manage to get everyone, or at least as many as possible, people together can start research back up again. I was one of the best students from my year at the school. Beside that Max, Ibe-san, all of us have a degree in medicine and nursing.

If we put our heads together with a couple of more people who are open to helping us out, we should be able to break our brains if we can get to all the previous research.

With those thoughts I walk out of my apartment on my bare feet. The plaster ground is cold under my feet and the wind blows right through my pajamas, but I don’t feel faced by it at all; I have bigger worries than this, Ash for instance is the only thing on my mind now. I won’t be going back to sleep before talking Ibe-san about this. And I’m not backing down from my plans until I’ve proofed everyone wrong about not being able to treat this disease.

My fist hits the surface of the door.

As I stand there waiting, I feel my heartbeat rising to the point that I’m not even sure this is a healthy pulse anymore. But I’m just so excited about this plan!

The door opens, slowly, and a tired-looking Ibe-san appears in the doorway. His hair is messy and his eyes look sleepier than after his usual morning coffee. He also sounds sleepy when he yawns.

I feel like I woke him up, and it’s only now that it hits me that it’s basically the middle of the night.

“Ei-chan?” he mumbles, releasing another yawn. “What are you doing up so early?”

He rubs in his eyes before glancing at me. He looks a little worried and that’s when I realize I’m probably looking about the same as him, only than with a huge-ass grin on my face.

He frowns in a confused way. “Did something happen?”

I shake my head, but shrug at the same time, because I don’t really know; what really happened?

“I had a great idea, that’s all,” I tell him with a smile.

“You came here, in the middle of the night-“ Ibe-san perks his frowns even more confused. “because you wanted to tell me that you had a great idea? That’s all?”
“No, no! I want to tell you the idea too!” I nod determinedly. “I want to create a cure for Ash.”

Chapter Text

Griffin Callenreese

28 Feb. 2015

It seems to be getting tougher each day.

I’m noticing that more and more lately; that I’m going backwards faster than expected.

Getting worse mentally and physically; not able to move too much and forgetting things that must’ve happened a long time ago. It’s strange when I forget about something others do remember.

Almost as if I know I should remember something about myself or my brother or my parents, but I there’s a wall in between me and the memories. And it happens so often lately.

It’s gone downhill quick after Max told me I had reached stage four and never before that day I had felt like I didn’t want to keep dragging myself through live anymore. But I’ve more like that lately.

Every day’s been a struggle; having to depend on Max with every simple task, and having to keep myself from worrying Aslan whenever I forget words, or names, or even my own memories.

But I keep on dragging myself through stage four.

Slowly, like a snail, but I’m moving on.

I know Aslan and Max try their best to make as least painful for me, because Aslan doesn’t mention it when I’m being forgetful, and neither of them acts awkward when Max has to feed me by formula or wash me or help me do whatever every normal twenty-six year old guy can do by himself.

Each day just feels like running a marathon, and a longer one with every day that passes.

And today doesn’t grant me the chance to catch my breath from the previous ones.

Instead Max shows up in the doorway of my room only a couple of minutes after I’ve woken up.

“How are you?” he asks me.

I tell him I’ve been doing okay, just as usual; practically every part of my body feels either numb or is hurting even more than the day before, and I mentally feel like a sieve, only catching the information that makes me feel worse instead of better. But I’m still okay, I’m still myself.

“I’m glad,” Max replies, but he looks nowhere near glad; his cheeks are red and splotchy and his eyes look blood shot from sleeping too little. There’s also something about his expression that seems off.

When I ask him if he’s okay too, he looks around the room; it almost looks like he’s checking if Aslan’s not inside this room as well, before he allows himself to say, “I have bad news, Griff.”

“What?” I swallow; it might be good he checked for Aslan’s presence before saying that, because I don’t want Aslan to hear any bad news right now. He’s already got enough to worry about with his own problems, he doesn’t need the bad news that’s for me.

“Professors Alexis and Abraham Dawson-“ Max takes a hand through his hair and winces. “- they brought the development of a cure for B1 to a halt. They’re not going to be able to safe you.”

 “You’re kidding,” I whisper, but there’s no response. I stare at Max with big eyes, searching for something to tell me that he’s joking, but I know he isn’t. “Right?”

He shakes his head and sits down on the crutch next to my bed. After rubbing his face with the palm of his hand, he looks up at me and mutters, “I’m sorry, Griff.”

I shake my head in disbelief. “Why?” I bite the inside of my cheek in frustration. “I thought, a couple of months ago, you said they were close to finding a working treatment?”

Max nods, telling me that they were really close. “But they need a patient’s brain and body to continue their research again.” His eyes meet mine, they’re filled with fear. “They need a dead test subject, and w-well, they don’t have one.”

I stare down at my hands, putting all my energy into clenching them into two fists. I’m so mad, not because they’re going to let me pass away; I’ll die anyway, and I’ll be okay with it if it happens. But they cannot stop development, because they still need to safe Aslan.

“Use me,” I reply; I’ve thought about it time and time again, how I’d probably let them take away what’s left of my useless life if I didn’t have Aslan to care for. “Just use my brain.”

“I won’t!” Max immediately replies. “I-I can’t!”

“Why?” I ask him, looking at him as his eyes fill up with tears. I’ve never seen Max get so emotional, he’s usually very good at keeping his emotions to himself, but now he’s on the brink of crying.

“Griffin,” he replies. “You’re my best friend, I can’t just let them use you when you got a life to live.”

I shake my head, telling him I don’t have a life to live anymore. “My body’s useless, my memory’s getting worse with each day that passes and all the life I have left is to slowly move towards the grave, Max.” I swallow, because my own words kind of hurt me deep inside. “But Aslan? He still has so much longer to live; I want him to be able to go to college, fall in love, to get a job and have a family. And he won’t have any of that if they stop making a cure.”

Max glares at me, there’s only one emotion of his face; pain.

“Don’t you want a little boy like Aslan, who still has a life to live, to survive?” I ask him.

Max closes his eyes briefly, telling me that of course he wants Aslan to live a fulfilling life. “But I want you to find someone you love too, to start a family for your own and live a normal life, instead of ending up as a test subject with only a code for Aslan and me to recognize you by, Griff.”

I swallow, I never thought about it that way; I thought that if I’d die it’d just be how it was always supposed to be and learned to live with dying, but I never thought about how afraid the people around me are of it. They’re not just scared of death, they’re scared of me dying.

I take a moment to think about it, and I guess it makes sense that Aslan and Max worry about my just as much as I worry about them. I don’t want them passing away either.

“Okay,” I mumble, my voice just as slurred and awful sounding as usual. “Let's put it this way.”

My eyes meet Max’s, since he’s glaring at me with hope in his eyes.

“I’ll live, I’ll continue living this life for Aslan and for you and hopefully to see the cure with my own eyes one day-“ I make sure to show Max how serious I am. “- but when I do pass away, I want to give my body to science, they can use each and every piece of me.” I pause. “Just promise me you’ll make sure those Dawson brothers start up their research again and develop a cure for Aslan.”

Max nods, slowly, replying, “Yes, I will.”

“Promise?” I ask him, even though I know when Max says he’ll do something, he will do everything he can to make it actually happen. I know he’s not kidding; he will make sure these professors will cure my little brother and every other unlucky individual that’s infected with B1 at birth.

“Promise,” he replies with a reassuring smile. “But only if you promise to try to enjoy your life.”

I’ll try, and a smile and a nod is all I can give him for an answer. Because I know in the end I won’t even remember what sorts of fun things I have done in the past.

But without using my words, I promise Max I’ll keep dragging myself through this deadly marathons. For myself and him, for Aslan and for the sake of living a somewhat fulfilling life.

Chapter Text

Eiji Okumura

31 Jul. 2018

I'm not the first to try to come up with a cure for B1. Two professors have started research at this clinic years ago, but quit some time ago since their progress had come to a halt. It was taking too long, and every day people still died of much more common diseases which had to get a cure sooner than something as rare as B1. But I've given myself the job of making a working treatment for Ash, and for everyone who is to get B1 in the future.

I've spoken to Ibe-san and Max about it, and they eventually agreed on having to proceed research. 

Apparently Max promised Ash's older brother, they'd develop a cure for sure, or at least they would go to the bitter end to find one. But since the professors left this clinic to develop a cure for more common diseases like Cancer, a year or so ago, he hasn't been able to keep his promise.

Even though the professors have left the clinic, Max has been able to get me parts of the research they've done in the past. Of course I have to be extremely careful with it, and all I have are copies of the most important research and the old non-effective treatments; that way I don't end up developing a treatment that's been tried in the past.

I walk through the hallways with the file of research pressed up against my chest. I'm on my way to Ash's room to tell him the good news; I’ll be putting my everything in making sure he won’t be standing face to face with death as soon as we think at the moment.

I cheerfully knock on the door and walk inside.

In the moment that I press the doorknob down, I hear a scream coming from inside of the room. It sounds deafening, like screeching chalk, and I immediately find myself having a fight or flight response to the sound. I hunch up before realizing its Ash’s voice that’s screaming so loud.

It almost doesn’t even sound like a voice anymore and when I open my eyes and look at him, I realize he’s still asleep. His eyes are closed tightly and his expression is pained, but everything else indicates that he’s stuck inside a hellish nightmare; time for me to wake him up.

I walk up to him quickly and lay my hand on his shoulder. I whisper calmly, telling him it’s alright, and that I am here, and that he doesn’t have to be scared anymore.

Eventually the screaming comes to a stop, not long after his eyes open.

He takes a moment to look around the room, almost as if his brain hasn’t quite processed that he wasn’t really living that nightmare. He looks so distant, not like himself, when he just wakes up.

It pains me to see him so confused.

“Eiji?” His voice is a little off, maybe even more slurred than usual, but I’m not sure.

I smile weakly, glad he still recognizes me. “Morning.”

Ash swallows thickly before taking his shaking hand through his sweaty hair. He still looks a little terrified, and even though I have no clue what he was dreaming about, I bet it scared him.

I give him some time to wake up, because I want to him get back to reality completely before I tell him about the good news that’s hiding within this beige file in my hands.

I put the file down on his bedside table while getting everything for Ash’s morning routine ready, because even though I have amazing news for him, I still have to make sure he takes his medication.

“What’s that?” he asks when he’s awake enough to notice the brown file.

I turn around and smile. I make sure to put everything down before walking over to Ash and taking the file in my hands again. I glare at it with a smile on my face.

“This—“ I whisper. “—is the scientific research for developing a cure for B1.”

Ash’s eyes meet mine as soon as I look up from the file. They’re shocked, but at the same time very confused. They don’t start shimmering with tears until I say, “I’m going to develop a cure, Ash.”

Ash’s mouth opens in surprise and his eyes are glittering in a way that makes me so happy.

“Y-You really are?” he whispers, his voice full of relief.

“I will pour every milliliter of myself into research,” I promise him with a determined smile. “I’m prepared to work hard, and I will try everything to develop a cure for you.”

Ash smiles and I’m sure he’s on the brink of crying, though he doesn’t let his tears flow. Instead he takes a deep breath and says, “I want to help too.”

I don’t think I’ve ever seen him so determined to do something, he’s usually petty unmoved by things, but now he really looks as if he means it; he wants to take part in this as well.

I take a moment to think, because it is kind of risky to let him help out. His brain is going to function less and we can’t have this research being done half-assed, but then again, at this moment he’s still very much smarter than I am and a much quicker reader too; having him help too would make the process of developing a cure less long lasting.

“Why not,” I reply with a shrug. “You’re a smart guy, I guess you can also do some research.”

Ash smiles in a way that isn’t happy per se, but rather like a strong-willed grin; I know he’s proud to take part in this big project that could possibly just safe his life.

“So, when can I start?” he asks me, glancing at the file that Max handed to me earlier this morning.

I put the file down on the counter on the other side of the room and shrug. “I’ll read up on the things that are in this file later today. I guess you can start by reading up on plants, medication, treatments etcetera, when I get you the books we’ll need.” I pause. “So, maybe tomorrow morning?”

Ash shakes his head, muttering, “You can’t expect me to sit still and let you read that huge file all on your own after you finish working.” He glares at the file intensely before sticking out his hand to me, holding it out like he wants something from me. “Give that here, I’ll do all that reading so you can do your job.” When I shake my head hesitantly, Ash adds, “I’ll make sure not to tell Max you let me read it, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

I take a deep nervous breath, because I know I’m not supposed to hand it out too Ash. I don’t exactly know what’s inside of this file, but it’s all about his disease; the illness that took away his brother, and is slowly taking Ash away as well. It could get too much for him.

His eyes intensely glare at me; he’s clearly determined to start this research as soon as possible, which is logically since whether he’ll life or die depends on this. But I don’t want him to get overwhelmed, by reading the file, when he already has so much to worry about.

“Eiji—“ He shakes his hand impatiently. “Just give the file here.”

I sigh and hand over the file, listening to his intense glare once again; I’m way too obedient, I know.

Ash opens it immediately and gets ready to start reading, but I stop him right away.

“What?” He looks up from the file.

“You have to get ready for the day first,” I tell him, gesturing at the medications that I was prepping at the counter. “Breakfast will be here any time and we haven’t done our check-up yet, oh, and you’re not even dressed.” I close my eyes briefly. “You can start reading after that, okay?”

Ash sighs and rolls with his eyes before putting down the file. “Sure.”

For the rest of the morning he does exactly as I ask, fortunately. And around eleven in the morning Ash’s finally ready with everything he needed to do, so as soon as I leave the room with his laundry, I see him take out the file to start reading; ready to develop that cure that might save him from the fate that is dragging him away from life.

Chapter Text

Aslan Callenreese

5 Aug. 2018

Five days ago I decided that I wanted to help out with the research. And although I can handle it cognitively no problem, my mental health has been going backwards.

Many pages, nightmares and panic attacks later, Jessica is asked to drop by my room.

She’s always been there when I’m not doing fine mentally, and according to Eiji I had to see my therapist again after I experienced four panic attacks in five days.
For days I’ve pretended not to have the slightest idea what’s causing me to have an overload of vivid nightmares and panic attacks, because I don’t want to give up on doing research with Eiji. But I know dead-well that I’m scared to death about the things I read in those files.

Reading about the five stages and how they’re build up out of a set of terrifying symptoms is only the least scary thing in those files. I’m startled by reading about the things that the last stage does to the brain, but it’s not knowing that Banana Fish can cause cerebral palsy, cardiac arrest and both retrograde and anterograde amnesia what scared me so much that I had four panic attacks.

It was seeing pictures and reading documents on subject GC98, also known as Griffin Callenreese; my older half-brother, who gave up his body to the research that was left barely continued.

These pages hold all sorts of information on how Griffin and I reacted to various treatment used for other neurological diseases, but it also shows me exactly what they did to Griffin’s body after if it was taken away from me; the research was started back up by a different professor, professor Meredith, who used my brother’s corpse for all sorts of tests and research before Griffin got cremated. And just a month after Griffin passed away, he had to leave the project discontinued for an unknown reason.

This file holds pictures, documents and scans, everything about Griffin and it haunts me.

That is what’s causing me to start hyperventilating when I’m left alone with my thoughts, because I see all those images of my brother that isn’t even recognizable as my brother anymore.

But even when Jessica looks me in the eyes and asks me why I personally think I’m having this much anxiety, I don’t tell her anything about the research I’ve been doing.

“I don’t know,” I lie, looking straight back at her.

She perks her eyebrow as shakes her head. “Ash, you know I can tell when you’re lying.”

I sigh, closing my eyes briefly; I’ve always hated that she’s great at reading people. She always ends up finding out what she wants, just because she’s able to tell when I’m laying.

“Okay, I do have an idea why it might be,” I admit, shrugging off the fact that I just lied to her.

She crosses her arms and takes a listening position. Her glare is intense, as she knows I’m not one to easily give into what she wants me to do. It previously took her ten meet-ups to figure out whether I was already having hallucinations or not, while it only took one glance at Griffin to know when his hallucinations and delusions had started. I was sixteen at the time, and yes, I was seeing things, but I was too stubborn to admit that I was actually getting sicker.

This has nothing to do with me getting deeper into stage four. These hallucinations of Griffin’s corpse lying in my room or walking around like a zombie, have nothing to do with my condition worsening. They’re pure fear, and they have to do with the research that Eiji did previously warn me about.

“So,” she asks. “What do you think might be the cause of your relapse?”

I hate that she calls it a relapse, as if I’ve ever been completely anxiety-free in my life; I’ve always suffered from panic attacks from time to time, and I’ve always had deep-rooted fears. But there’s no way she could know that I’ve been feeling those fears for the past couple of years, because I made her belief that the Ativan she prescribed me is actually working.

“I’m not sure,” I tell her, sighing to make it clear that I didn’t ask for this meeting. “But I think it might have to do with the fact that I’m slowly growing weaker.” I hate to admit that, because it’s actually true that it also scares me to get weaker with each day that passes. But I’d rather admit that than admit that I’ve been looking at pictures of my brother’s corpse after three AM.

She writes it down calmly before looking me in the eye. “But that’s not all, is it?”

I groan and snap back, “What makes you think that?”

“You don’t have to raise your voice with me, Ash,” she tells me. Even though her voice is harsh and stern, like she probably also does when her little son doesn’t listen to her, but her expression is sad and worried. “Look, I get that you don’t like opening up to me, but I really need you to work with me here.” She pauses and her expression grows even softer. “Everyone’s worried about you, Ash.”

I frown, because she must be kidding.

“Eiji, Shorter, Max and me as well,” Jessica tells me. “We don’t like seeing you like this.”

I swallow, I never thought about it that way. I thought I was the only one who had discomforts because of barely sleeping and hyperventilating and just going backwards in general. I never thought other people worried about someone who has misery and problems written all over him.

“So, please, Ash—“ She’s never begged me. “—tell me what’s going on with you.”

I glare at her with a gaping mouth; Jessica’s not one who shows her emotions easily, but now she’s literally showing me how worried she is. I can read her for the first time in my life.

I look down at my lap before gesturing at the bedside table. “It’s in the lowest drawer.”

I don’t watch as she takes out the file that I’ve been hiding, from Max and all nurses other than Eiji, in the drawer of my bedside table. I don’t dare to look at her as she flips through the pages, but I do hear her gasp in fear right before she asks, “Where—Ash, who gave this to you?”

I shake my head, I cannot tell her that Eiji gave it to me, it could get him fired if they find out that he actually handed me this research. We both knew that, but I still forced him to give it to me.

“Look at me,” Jessica tells me with disappear in her voice. “Where did you get this.”

I swallow before looking at her. I don’t look into her eyes when I lie about it. “I stole it.”

Jessica sighs and takes her hand through her hair before asking, “You got it from Eiji, didn’t you?”

I nod hesitantly, but immediately tell her to not blame Eiji for that.

“He knows it’s illegal,” Jessica tells me. “Max must’ve told him not to show it to you, and he still did. He didn’t just show it to you, he let you read it and keep it in your room, Ash.”

I frown at her angrily before yelling, “If you get Eiji fired for this, I’ll never forgive any of you!”

Jessica closes her eyes briefly before lying the file down on her lap. She looks me in the eye when promising she won’t tell their boss about this. “But I do have made sure Eiji knows he did wrong.”

I nod, because that’s fair. “As long as you make sure he’s allowed to keep working here.”

She hesitates before nodding too, and I know, when Jessica promises something she’ll keep to it; literally anything, she even stayed together with an untrustworthy man like Max after promising to marry him, so she’ll be able to keep a small promise like this too.

“I also have to confiscate this.” She gestures at the file.

“Fine.” I shrug, she doesn’t know I’ve practically memorized everything inside of that file anyway.

And maybe it’s better that way; I already feel a lot less anxious, knowing that Eiji won’t be fired for this and the thought of the file with Griffin’s pictures not lying in my drawer. I don’t need any new prescriptions anymore if I don’t have things like that to panic about anymore.

Chapter Text

Eiji Okumura

11 Aug. 2018

Research got much easier after Ash gave into the fact that he should just read up on the plants and medication and diet for the treatments only. He stopped having daily panic attacks, and he also seemed to have more fun doing his part of the research; spreading around fun facts he read in the books all the time, which made it clear that he’s enjoying himself.

I bet he’s reading in a book about herbs right now, even though I never asked him to work so hard on Saturdays. Even I don’t usually work on Saturday.

But today that’s different.

I might be at a shopping village and not be at work, but I am busy with work-related activities. That’s because I found out a little something when reading through Ash’s medical chard; tomorrow, on the twelfth of August, is his eighteenth birthday.

I cannot go there tomorrow, knowing that it’s his birthday and not bring any presents, so when I left work yesterday I asked his best friend to come shopping with me today.

Obviously, Shorter said yes right away. And now we’re meeting up at one of New York’s shopping villages, so we can search for the best presents for Ash.

It’s not hard to spot him, with his purple dip dye and bright clothes, standing near Subway.

“Morning, Eiji!” He happily waves at me, probably in case I didn’t see him yet.

I wave back and greet him too when I’m close enough. “Thank you for coming.”

Shorter grins and says, “Well, Ash’s my friend too! So I want to be part of his birthday party too.”

I chuckle, and tell him I completely understand that. “But I’m still glad you want to help me too, because I just cannot think of anyone who knows him better than you do.”

“Well—“ Shorter starts walking, clearly expecting me to follow him. “—I don’t think I know Ash as well as you think I do,” he admits with an apologetic smile.

I wonder how it’s possible that after - what did Ash say? - twelve years Shorter still doesn’t know everything there is to know about Ash. “But you’ve been friends for so long?” I ask, before realizing that Ash is actually pretty private when it comes to himself and his feelings.

Shorter shrugs. “Yeah, we’ve been talking for years, but we don’t really talk about personal stuff.”

I tell him that’s totally fine, to have a less personal friendship with someone. Especially when it comes to someone like Ash, I don’t want to ask Shorter about it, but maybe he also kept Ash at an arm’s length because Ash could literally die any moment; that’s not the easiest in a friendship.

“Anyway,” Shorter says to change the subject. “What kind of present were you thinking off?”

I shrug, looking around the street to search for a good shop. “Maybe some books, he reads a lot.”

Shorter nods and tells me that’s true, but something about his tone tells me he’s hesitant about buying Ash more books. So I decide to ask him what he thinks about that.

“I don’t know,” he admits with an apologetic wince. “I don’t think he’ll have much time left to read books.” Shorter glances at me from behind his sunglasses. “If you know what I mean.”

I stare down to the floor and feel a little sting of pain in my heart; I know exactly what Shorter means. Ash has reached stage 4 quite some time ago already, his reading skills will start going backwards any moment now, he won’t be able to read much anymore indeed.

“Maybe we can still buy him one book,” I suggest. “Do you know if he likes audio books?”

Shorter chuckles. “You wanted to buy him an audio book?”

I shrug and tell Shorter it’s actually pretty good for his brain to stay connected to language closely, so maybe buying him a book with audio file would be the best option. “Don’t you think?”

“But wouldn’t that just remind him of the fact that he can’t read what they’re telling him is on the page?” Shorter asks me, and he’s actually very right. “What about a movie?”

I smile and nod. “That would be our best option indeed.”

We go to the closest store that sells movies and start looking at what they’ve got to offer.

There’s everything from superhero and romantic movies, to animated ones. Some are even from my own country, and it gives me a very nostalgic feeling when I spot my all-time favorite children’s movie on the shelf. It’s in an English cover, but I immediately recognize the face of Ghibli; Totoro.

I take my hand up to it and take the movie off the shelf.

I hold up the movie so Shorter can see it and ask, “What about this one?”

Shorter looks up and says, “What about these?” gesturing at the three movies in his hands. They’re all superhero movies, he seems to have a nostalgic feeling towards Superman and Captain America.

I chuckle. “Is Ash the type to like superhero movies?”

Shorter shrugs and tells me he hasn’t got the slightest idea. “He’s never been someone who likes fiction, but I’m not going to buy him a movie like Planet Earth or something.”

Shorter’s right, if Ash wants to watch documentaries about the earth or animals, he can just turn on the little television in his room and go to any random channel; they broadcast documentaries all the time. That’s why we’re here to buy him some actual movies, with plot.

Shorter glances at the movies in his hands again and it’s like a light bulb turns on in his head.

“What?” I ask, referring to the massive smirk on his face.

“What if—“ Shorter smiles even wider. “—we both buy Ash our personal top five favorite movies?”

A smile appears on my face and I nod right away. “That’s an amazing idea!”

We do exactly that; Shorter starts searching for his favorite movies, while I do too. Even though this store doesn’t have most of my personal favorites, since they’re all Japanese, I still manage to find some of them. I end up getting My Neighbor Totoro, The Conjuring, The Ring, The Nightmare Before Christmas and IT. All movies I loved watching when I was stuck at home with my broken leg.

Shorter also manages to find five movies, and it surprises me that two of them are actually tragic romances and not superhero movies. I’d never taken Shorter for the type of person who’d like The Fault in Our Stars and The Titanic, but then again, maybe he chose them because Ash may like them.

"And which did you choose?" Shorter asks when we walk out with our bought movies in plastic bags.

I name the ones I choose because I feel like Ash has to watch at least once in his life.

“What!?” Shorter glares at me, shocked. "You like horror?"

I shrug, thinking about the movies I picked. Except for My Neighbor Totoro and The Nightmare Before Christmas, which I watched as a kid, they're definitely all horror movies. That’s what I like.

"I thought you’d like tearjerkers or something," Shorter says, I have no clue why he would think that.

"Not really," I reply. "They're either realistic but boring or very unrealistic but then they leave you broken for multiple months after watching them. I don't like that."

Shorter chuckles. "No need to get defensive, I'm just surprised that the soft nurse is a horror fan."

I want to make a comment about Shorter's choice of movies, but realize that especially the superhero movies he chose are completely on brand for someone like Shorter.

I snort at how Shorter's looks completely identify his taste in movies.

"What are you laughing at?" Shorter says, but he's laughing just as hard.

After having a little laugh, Shorter goes silent.

Too silent.

"I really hope as is going to enjoy his birthday," Shorter mumbles after a while.

"Huh?" I reply, looking at the Chinese's gloomy expression. "Why wouldn't he?"

"It's his first birthday without Griffin," Shorter explains. "But I don't think Ash has enjoyed any of his birthdays. Especially since--" His voice falters and he winces.

"Since, what?" I ask him.

"Let's just say his fifteenth birthday wasn't the greatest," Shorter mumbles, glaring down at the pavement. "He hasn't been able to look forward to his birthday ever since."

I swallow, wondering what happened three years ago. But I don't have the guts to ask. Instead of ruining the mood, I force a smile and say, "In that case, let's make sure tomorrow will be his best birthday ever!"

Chapter Text

Aslan Callenreese

12 Aug. 2015

Some people look forward to their birthday.

Not me.

When I was younger I used to be happy whenever the time was there again, but for the past couple of years it has only felt like a step closer to death.

It’s exactly like Griffin first explained it; if you come across a Banana Fish in the sea you’ll feel like dying. That’s how every step feels with this disease. How many more steps to go? Can’t I die already?

It’s not like I want to die, don’t get me wrong, but the bad emotions just hit me harder on my birthday. Because I know another year has passed, and it wasn’t a great one.

I reached the point that my daily headaches start to hurt me when I’m reading and I sometimes just completely black out for a moment, but that hasn’t even been the worst.

My older brother’s been getting worse. Some days he wakes up and it looks like he doesn’t have the slightest idea who or where he is. It sometimes only lasts a couple of seconds before he stops spacing out, but sometimes he sits there and takes an hour or even longer to remember.

It’s scary, and painful to watch, when it happens. I always catch myself wondering if he will come back to me whenever he sits there like a shell of himself for such a long time.

I haven’t experienced much fun things this year, like I did previous years; since Griffin’s barely able to leave his bed and not really able to talk properly anymore. It’s like he’s forgetting the language.

So, with all the heartbreak I’ve faced this year, I’m nowhere near surprised when I wake up sweaty after a terrible nightmare. As I throw the clammy blankets off myself and catch my breath, I start to realize that I got leaped from the one nightmare into the other; real life.

I hear wheezing beside me, an almost painful sounding gasping.

I turn to the hospital bed with the gates where Griffin’s usually still asleep by now. But today that’s different; he’s lying on his side, facing me. His pupils are diluted and he’s blinking an awful lot.

“Griffin?” I ask, just loud enough that he should be able to hear me. “Are you okay?”

His eyes don’t look at me when his mouth starts twitching. He starts chewing and repeats that over and over again, and I immediately know what time it is; he’s having another Grand Mal seizure.

I crawl out of bed and walk over to him. I sit there, stroking my hand past his clammy cheek.

“I’m here, Griff,” I tell him. “Just relax, okay? You’re going to be okay.”

His eyes gaze at me, but I know he probably barely even notices I’m here. That’s why I make sure to calm him down by touch; I carefully caress his cheeks, neck or arm or take my hands through his hair, like I remember him doing during one of my own seizures.

He mutters something that sounds like a completely different language, and his entire body seems to contract as he lets out a moan. In moments like this my older brother looks nothing like Griffin.

I swallow and close my eyes briefly, telling myself I only have to hold on a little longer.

I go through this, sitting by his side while he experiences such immense fear, almost two to six times every day. He’s been doing much worse since they told me he’s nearing the end of stage four. And even outside of his seizures and nightmares, Griffin seems nothing like himself.

Underneath my hand I feel the twitching stop; we must be nearing the end of this one. Though it has been a bad one that almost lasted for five minutes already, but it’s over now.

I sit there for a little longer, leaving him some time to come back to me.

Five minutes pass, and he’s slowly gaining consciousness again.

Ten minutes have passed, and he seems sleepy but awake, gazing around the room distantly.

Fifteen minutes have passed, and he’s restless, his body language urging me to fluff up his pillow and help him sit upright for a moment so he can look around himself.

By the time twenty minutes have passed and I still get no response from him when I call out his name, I’m starting to worry. It’s also not like he seems to be getting better as the minutes crawl by. It’s like he’s going back to being unconscious; his eyes distant and his face emotionless.

“Can you hear me?” I take a deep breath before squeezing his hand. “Griff?”

He turns to me and his eyes look straight into mine. His expression remains blank, but I can see in his eyes that he hasn’t got the slightest idea of who I am. And that hits hard.

“Griff—“ I wince, feeling tears bubbling up in my eyes. “I-It’s me, Aslan, your brother.”

His expression changes slowly; maybe he can remember me after all.

His mouth opens, but all that he manages to bring out is a soft groan followed by drool dribbling down his chin. It sends shivers down my spine, because I’ve never seen Griffin do that after a seizure.

When he absently looks away again, almost as if he didn’t even see me, I decide it’s best if I get Max.

I get on my feet and run into the hallway. Max should be somewhere in the west wing, and as I’m running through the department that holds such fun memories of Griffin and me playing on the hallway with a ball and hide and seek even though we weren’t allowed to, all I can do is break inside.

I’m terrified, because what if Griffin won’t come back to me this time.

I blink, causing a tear to stream down my cheek. As my vision clears, I see Max walking around the corner with his girlfriend by his side. He looks so happy and I’m about to ruin his day too.

“Morning, Ash! Happy birthd—“ He looks a little worried. “Why are you crying?”

I shake my head, sniffing softly. “It’s Griffin—“

Max’s expression changes and I’m sure I see some sort of fear in his eyes too.

“—he had another seizure.” I close my eyes briefly, thinking back to the horrifying image of my older brother groaning and drooling like an infant. “He hasn’t gone back to himself yet.”

Max glances over to Jessica and tells her he has to go with me now. Jessica lets him go, obviously, because she also knows that Max isn’t just Griffin’s nurse, he’s also Griffin’s best friend.

Max follows me back to our room, asking me questions about the seizure like he always does. But he seems lose his professional act when he spots Griffin lying in the bed across the room.

I glance at Max to literally see his mask slip off when he looks at his best friend, who’s momentarily staring off into space as saliva drips from his gaping mouth.

“God, Griff,” Max mutters while rushing over to Griffin’s side. “You look terrible.”

I stand there and watch from a distance while Max accesses the situation. He mumbles to himself and seeing the things he says, I don’t think he’s even fully aware that I’m still standing in the doorway. From his words, my gut feeling gets noted; he is doing much worse than usual.

Eventually Max turns to me with a gloomy expression on his face, telling me it’d be better to leave for a moment. “I need to change him completely; he drooled, urinated and defecating on himself.” Max closes his eyes briefly and swallows audibly.

I can see that seeing Griffin like this hits him hard too. So I decide to listen to him and mumble, “I’ll go and see if Shorter’s here today.” Before turning around and walking out of the door.

But that’s not what I do, I don’t go to get Shorter, because I know he’s helping out Nadia on mornings. Instead I sit down in the courtyard, in the spot where you can gaze up at the sky the best; the place where Griffin and I have spend lots of days, had lots of laughs.

I’m not laughing now.

Thick tears, filled with more pain than most fifteen year old people have gone through, stream down my face at a rapid amount. I sob and moan and cry out loud until my voice has gone hoarse.

I don’t even know for how much time I sit there, but it must’ve been an awful lot of minutes. By the time my tears are starting to dry up on my cheeks, I hear a voice behind me.

“Ash,” Max’s voice sounds, almost silent and the tone so fragile that it might shatter with the briefest gust of wind. He doesn’t sound relieved of cheerful like all the other times something bad happened.

I turn around carefully, finding myself looking into my older brother’s eyes.

He’s seated in a wheelchair, a different one than the simpler one he used to have before; his head is propped up between a thick headrest and I’m almost sure I see that his limbs are strapped to the wheelchair so he doesn’t slide out of place. And even though there’s a blanket to make it appear nicer, it’s painful to see Griffin like that; not even able to keep his head upright.

Max’s standing behind him, wheeling him closer to me.

My eyes move from Max’s sad gaze to the book in his hand; it’s one of Griffin’s favorite poetry books. The withered flower on the cover reminds me of how Griffin looks to me right now; the weakest shell of the great older brother he’s always been to me, seemingly minutes away from dying.

Max follows my gaze and winces when he realizes I’m looking at the book in his hand. “I thought you’d like to spend some one on one time with your brother—“ He pauses, fastening Griffin into place right beside where I’m seated. After that he hands me the book. “—on your birthday.”

I take Empty Bottles Full of Stories, Griffin’s most precious possession, from Max and feel myself tearing up again. "Yeah," I mumble, look up to Max weakly. "I would like that."

Max smiles sadly and lays his hand on Griffin's shoulder. "Try to have fun, okay? I'll come and pick the two of you up when I get your room cleaned."

I nod once, and Griffin doesn't even response when Max squeezes his shoulder carefully before walking away.

"So--" I whisper, not at all used to being to one who leads the conversation. It usually is Griffin who talks, even when his language was getting worse and his voice more slurred, he still was the one who made sure had fun conversations every once in a while.

"You in for some poems?" I mutter. When I glance up at Griffin, he's just gazing off into the distance.

I might not get a response, but I know Griffin's always in for poetry. So I carefully open the book. I ignore the stains from when he accidently spilled coffee on the first page a couple of years ago.

"Distance has a funny way of reminding you how close two people could either grow apart," I begin, my voice hoarse from crying so much earlier. "Or grow closer together."

I glance up at him, and think about how Griffin and I seem to be growing apart as well.

"And now you’re gone, and I am here--" My voice gets caught in my throat; it hurts to think about someone being gone.

"Wondering," I whisper while looking into Griffin's diluted pupils.

I wonder if he hears me, sees me and is aware of himself and the world around him.

I wonder if he'll stay like this for forever.

And as I continue reading, I wonder if I'll ever have Griffin reading to me again. Because I miss his voice, reading the poems he loves with lots of passion like he did every single night before I went to bed. Now it's me reading; and let me tell you, I'm much worse at it. Especially when my vision blurs and tears drip down from my eyelashes onto the paper.

Chapter Text

Aslan Callenreese

12 Aug. 2018

A birthday doesn’t feel like a birthday when someone is missing.

It’ll be my first birthday without Griffin. And even though my previous three birthdays have felt like he wasn’t there anymore, I know his non-responsive shell won’t even be here this year.

I’ll be turning eighteen, which means my big brother has never seen me as an official grown up. It hurts when I think about it too much, but I just wish I could just stay seventeen for forever.

Eiji, though he doesn’t even have to work today, doesn’t seem to plan on letting me drag myself through the day like I normally do.

Instead he barges into my room at nine in the morning, making a big commotion.

“What are you doing?” I mutter, looking up from the book I was reading.

The short Japanese nurse is standing in my doorway with a bundle of helium balloons in his hands. There are also at least two carton bags with presents.

“Happy eighteenth birthday, Ash!” he says with a smile, while walking towards my bed. Right after he’s put down the bags and the balloons at my feet, he wraps his arms around me tightly. Hugging me so hard that it’s almost like he wants to suffocate me, but I know he means it well.

I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone act so happy on my birthday, not even myself.

“H-How did you know?” I stammer, when I realize I never once told him about my birthday.

“Who knows.” He grins mysteriously after letting go of me. “Neh, just joking. I saw it in your medical file and knew I had to surprise you with something fun.”

I glance at the bags beside me; that’s not just some fun thing, it’s basically an entire store. And even though he walks it with lots of balloons and nicely wrapped gifts and in the happiest mood ever, I don’t feel like partying today and I don’t quite know how to tell him that.

“So, Ash,” he asks me, sitting down beside my bed on the crutch. “How does it feel to be an adult?”

I swallow audibly; of everything he can ask, why did he have to ask that exact question?

He watches me closely as I put away my book and turn to him. He looks so much more cheerful than he has looked over the past couple of days, and even though there are bags under his eyes from working overtime so often, I know he genuinely wants to try to make today the best for me.

I close my eyes briefly, and with a knot in my stomach I whisper, “It feels strange.” I could say literally anything, I could even tell him to piss off and let me read my book in peace, but for some reason it makes me much happier to be real with him in a way that doesn’t hurt his feelings.

“I can understand that.” Eiji chuckles before his cheeks turn all red. When I ask him why he’s blushing, he immediately tries to chance the subject by grabbing a present for me.

“No, no,” I say, shaking my head and grinning. “Are you blushing? I want to know!”

Eiji’s cheeks turn a bright red when he carefully admits that he did something he’s kind of ashamed of when he turned eighteen. “I literally went to all the places where I had been told I looked young to do whatever I came to do at that place. I showed all of them my identity card, all of that effort, to rub it in that I was a grown up now.” He manages to get even redder. “And I felt so proud afterwards.”

I glare at him to see if he could possibly be joking, but there’s not a spark of him that shows me that he hasn’t actually done something that useless. I snort and ask, “Why?”

“B-Because I got so annoyed by people telling me that I was just a little boy, duh!” he responses, waving with his hands frantically. “I know telling them ‘hey, I’m grown up now’ wasn’t going to help, but it sounded very smart back then okay!”

I frown at him skeptically, before stating that this “back then” was only about one and a half year ago probably. “And no, it didn’t work. You are still very small, Eiji.” I smirk.

Eiji slaps me on the leg jokily, what I don’t let him know is that it actually hurts quite a lot when it triggers a spasm, and he tells me it’s not funny to tell him that. “I’m still older, you know!”

I chuckle and tell him I’m sorry, even though I really am not; that’s just what he gets for looking like an elementary scholar in both height, voice and facial expressions. What I don’t tell him is that I think it’s not a bad thing that he’s small for his age, I think it’s rather cute.

“Anyway!” His voice squeaks awkwardly when he makes a not-so-subtle chance of subjects. “I bought you some presents! Or rather, Shorter and I did—“ He scratches the back of his head thoughtfully. “—so we kind of have to wait until he’s done with his morning shift too.”

I glance at the presents and find that I’m actually pretty curious as for what’s inside of them. I mean, I haven’t had real presents in years; Griffin got me something each year when he could still go himself, and after that he’d sometimes ask Max, but he never could afford more than a book from the discount section of the store. All of our money always went to medical bills, and I knew that, so I never even dreamed about having a real party-like feeling on days like this.

“Ash?” Eiji’s voice wakes me from my flashbacks to previous birthdays. “You seem a little sad.”

I shrug. At first I don’t want to admit that I feel a little gloomy too today, but then I decide he deserves to know. “I never had a real birthday.” I pause and glance at the balloons, knowing we bought some for my old house for my fourth birthday because I saw them when flipping through an old photo book with Griffin one time. “At least, not that I remember myself.”

Eiji’s face saddens, and he carefully lays his hand on mine. “I’m so sorry.”

I glare at the way his hand wraps around mine, and how I’m convinced my shaking isn’t from spasms and tremors for the first time in years. His hand around mine just feels nicer than anything else.

And when I look up, Eiji’s eyes meet mine. There’s a warm smile on his face when he promises me he will make sure today will be a real birthday for me.

I don’t reply, but I feel my body moving closer to his.

My eyes are locked with his, and my heart is thudding louder than ever before.

What is this feeling? I wonder.

Just as I’m about to find out, or so I think, a gust of wind causes my hair to fly in front of my eyes and breaks the close connection Eiji and I were having. I feel disappointment in my stomach, like something big was about to happen and I just missed it because of an opening door.

“Happy birthda—“ The loud voice, of someone who apparently walked in during this intense moment, falters. When I look at the door, Shorter’s standing there with a gaping mouth, staring at whatever’s going on between Eiji and me. “What is going on here?”

Eiji and I glance at each other. We’re only inches away from each other, but when we realize that something was going on that’s not part of the formal relationship we’re supposed to have, we both quickly back away from each other. “Nothing!” we shout simultaneously.

“W-Well, okay!” Shorter chuckles uncomfortably and closes the door behind him before walking into the room with both my breakfast and a big smile plastered onto his face.

He gives me a quick sneak peek at my food, which is a little cake with a candle on top, because he places it on my over-bed table. “Shhhhh, don’t tell anyone you had cake for breakfast!” He winks.

I smile lightly, because I’m happy he’s trying to give me good birthday, but I’m still a little uncomfortable about what just was going on between Eiji and me.

I glance at Eiji to see that he seems just as awkward as me; shifting in his seat and clearing his throat an awful lot, as well as possibly trying to hide his bright pink cheeks behind his black hair.

Shorter doesn’t seem to mind the awkwardness though, he’s just being his cheerful self, or at least he’s trying to act that way; I notice he too is a little puzzled by the situation.

His eyes land on the presents he and Eiji bought me, and he says, “I see, aren’t you unpacking yet?”

I follow his gaze to the bags and shake my head.

“Eiji,” Shorter sternly says. “What is the meaning of this? You’re letting the birthday boy wait!?”

Eiji gets even more flustered, in a way that I didn’t even know was possible, before he blurts out that he thought it would be best to wait until Shorter had arrived but then again he wasn’t sure.

Shorter snorts before shaking his head. “Calm down, I’m just joking!”

“Y-Yeah right,” Eiji replies, chuckling awkwardly. “So, Ash, do you want to unpack a present?”

I look at the two bags, and see that they’re both filled to the brim; I’ve never gotten so many gifts.

I don't know where to start, but fortunately Shorter doesn't even leave me any choice. He just presses the first beautifully packed present into my hands and says, "This should be the first one!"

I feel the weight in the palms of my hand before I glance over at Eiji, who smiles and encourages me to open it.

I fidget with the box-like present for a while, but with so little control of my fine movements unpacking something proofs itself to be a hard task. I barely am able to get the paper ripped, so when Eiji's hands move into my view and steady my hands, I feel a little relieved.

He wraps one of his hands around the gift, causing it to stop shaking, and then he rips a little bit of the wrapping. He glances at me and blushes.

"You can tear it now." He gestures at the pre-ripped slice of paper. Of course, it sucks that I need his help, but then again he's only doing it to make my struggling less of a struggle.

I grab it with my trembling fingers and tear the packing-paper off the present to reveal a box.

I glance at Shorter, and then at Eiji, and then back to Shorter again.

"What is it?" I ask, puzzled by whatever this may be.

Shorter scoffs. "Turn it around.”

I shrug, and when I do what he tells me, I look at a box filled with ten smaller boxes; movies.

"It's only the top ten best movies!" Shorter says. "How did you not immediately see that?"

This box indeed holds ten movies. Some of which must be Shorter’s top five and the others are Eiji’s. Everything from superhero and action movies which are Shorter’s favorite kind, to a couple of children's movies and romantic ones that seem more like Eiji's piece of cake.

“B-But why?” I ask, genuinely a little confused about why they would someone as linguistic as me a movie to look at; I’ve never been much of a movie fan.

“Because—“ Eiji smiles at me. “—we felt like it would be a great way to pass the time, and they are amazing movies after all.” He nudges me. “I’m sure you’ll love them.”

I glance back at the movies, some of which actually look pretty interesting. Maybe they’re right, I shouldn’t think bad about everything before even trying it. I don’t have to hate everything before experiencing it; even I am allowed to love something in my life.

Chapter Text

Eiji Okumura

12 Aug. 2018

I didn’t think Ash would like getting presents, he doesn’t seem like the type of person who enjoys being the center of attention. But after his strange behavior after unpacking the first present, he started to get a grip of the birthday spirit; acting more cheerful with every gift he unpacked.

All of the gifts are piled up next to his bed; everything from some shirts I thought will look amazing on him, some books and the top ten of movies. And he states he likes all of them.

I doubt he actually does, but at least he showed some interest in one of the plaid shirts I picked out for him. He immediately wanted to put it on, so after Shorter was away, I helped him dress.

There’s a strange energy between Ash and me today, and I have to admit that for the first time I felt a little awkward having to see him shirtless while helping him dress. Something about him causes my heart to flutter, like it did when Shorter barged into the room earlier as well.

My heart does that strange thing again when I step back and look at how Ash looks now that he’s wearing the red shirt. His hair is in a little ponytail since we’re going out for a walk and it’s windy outside. And the red suits him much better than the old black and white t-shirts he usually wears.

“Wow,” I say under my breath, glaring at Ash with a gaping mouth.

Ash’s nose wrinkles softly before he chuckles and asks, “Wow?”

I feel my cheeks getting warmer when I admit that he looks very good in that shirt and with his hair up like that. It feels strange to say that to a patient, and especially to Ash, since I’ve been warned not to get too close to him; I’ll get hurt that way, Max said, but I feel I’m really connecting with Ash.

“I notice that,” Ash mumbles, pushing himself upright with the help of his crutch. “You’re allowed to stop drooling, you know.” He nudges me jokily when hobbling past me.

I wipe past my mouth self-consciously; I wasn’t really drooling, was I?

“I was just joking,” Ash replies, and I realize he probably saw me wipe my mouth. “Anyway, are you coming, I want to be outside before it’s dark outside.”

I turn around to see Ash struggling to move his legs, it’s getting worse each day, but he really wanted to go out for a stroll today. It’s his birthday so I can’t ignore his wishes, but I don’t know if it’s the best idea to push him to his limits like that.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” I say, catching up to him within just three steps. “But don’t you think it’s a better idea to take a wheelchair with us.” I pause when I see Ash wincing. “J-just in case.”

Ash’s expression grows gloomy before he mutters, “I’m not disabled, I don’t need a wheelchair.” Even though his slurred voice sounds mad, his expression seems sadder than it does angry.

“I’m sorry,” I reply silently. “I didn’t mean it that way. I just thought since you want to walk all the way through Central Park and back to the hospital, it would be nice if you can—“

“Give up?” he asks, glancing at me intensely. “No thank you, one crutch is enough. I don’t need people to stare at me and pity me for being in a wheelchair.”

I take a deep breath and nod; maybe he’s right. And if it ends up being too much for his legs after all, we can just go back because Central Park is close enough anyway. I don’t know why I needed to bring it up; it’s his birthday, so I shouldn’t even mention the things that I know make him sad.

Fortunately Ash is in a good mood today, and by the time we walk outside, all his worries seem to blow away with the wind and a smile appears on his face.

“It’s amazing weather!” he tells me with a smile.

He’s completely right; it’s warm enough to be able to go outside without a jacket, but the cool wind makes sure that you don’t get too hot when walking under the summer sun.

We start walking towards Central Park, which is just a two-minute walk away. And as we’re strolling underneath the green trees, I ask Ash why he always heads into the hospital’s small courtyard when New York’s biggest park is just around the corner of the clinic. “Don’t you think it’s nicer out here?”

Ash shrugs, looking up at the trees. “I don’t know, I feel like sitting in the courtyard is much calmer. It also just feels more familiar, while this is just a crowded park I don’t know.”

“I guess that makes sense,” I reply, because it sounds really relatable. I explain that I grew up in a less busy city than this, but I also never went out to the parks when I just had a normal garden to be in.

“What was your home like?” Ash asks me for the first time since we’ve met.

“Oh, I grew up in pretty calm part of Japan,” I reply at the exact time that a car speeds by just outside of Central Park. “Not by far as crowded as New York, so it’s taking some getting used to.”

Ash chuckles and admits that he’s sometimes also a little freaked by how busy New York’s streets are. “I grew up in Cape Cod, and I’m inside of the hospital walls most of the time, I never got used to New York’s constant crowdedness.”

I chuckle. “Must be strange, living in the city that never sleeps without ever actually noticing it.”

Ash shrugs, struggling to get himself up a wobbly unpaved road so we can get closer to the lake. I watch him almost fall, and my heart jumps in fear, but fortunately we make it to the side of the lake without any casualties. Though it caused him some effort to get up that little slope.

“Let’s just stand here—“ I suggest, leaning down on the fence that’s surrounding the glorious reservoir of water. “—I want to rest a little.” It’s not like I’m tired, but I know Ash is too exhausted to walk anymore. He won’t admit it, but I can see it by how he’s gasping for air.

Ash nods, and leans on the fence right beside me.

It’s a wonderful view, but so calm and soundless that I don’t want to break the beauty by talking. I’m quiet because of the stunning view. And Ash’s completely silent too, at least for a couple of minutes; we both stare out over the shimmering water.

His voice is careful and calm when he whispers, “I wish I could go with you to Japan some time.”

I glance at him to see the sad expression on his face. Almost as if this stunning view of a lake at a wonderful day in New York, on his birthday, isn’t enough to make him feel good.

“Just to see something else,” he continues. “Or maybe just to get away from this country that stole away so much of my—“ He swallows thickly, he doesn’t even need to finish his sentence for me to know what he wanted to say; this country is where his life happened, so it’s the place that not only took away his right to live a normal life, but also the country that stole his freedom and his brother.

Ash turns to me, his eyes a fragile but intense green when they meet mine. “Take me to Japan, Eiji.”

I clench my fists and swallow, because I know I can’t; this is where Ash is supposed to be, where he has the biggest chance of surviving for the longest. I could never take him there.

“Ash, I-I—“ I sigh, I can’t tell him no and neither can I tell him yes.

Ash’s expression saddens and he glances away quickly before doing the most absurd thing. His hand strokes past my cheek, and before I know it our lips are touching.

His are soft and rough at the same time, like Ash himself; such a kind soul putting up a rough act to defend himself. To make sure not to show people how vulnerable he actually is.

But now, with his lips so carefully pressing up against mine, I feel how fragile he actually is. He has such strong presence, and at the same time you could be in the same room as him without knowing he’s even there. That’s how Ash is. Like a ghost, hovering in between reality and fantasy. As if the slightest gust of wind could blow away the feeling of him touching me. And it freaks me out.

It terrifies me, really, how his hands are caressing my cheeks instead of the other way around, and how our lips are touching too, but at the same time it feels like I’m all alone.

That’s why I barely notice when he backs away and let’s go of me like nothing happened.

For a moment I feel like I just made it all up, like the scene we’re in never played. But then he turns to me with cheeks that have the slightest hint of pink to them.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Ash whispers, his cheeks turning a deeper shade of pink. “But that was my first kiss.” He turns away and looks off into the distance. “And I want to thank you for it.”

I touch my lips with my fingers and feel myself getting all warm and dizzy.

I don’t know if I’m scared or happy or sad or maybe just confused, but I know that kiss was real. And I know Ash felt that too. And I also know we both are aware about the fact that we did something that’s very much not allowed.

I take a deep breath and smile, because I also know I loved it.

And I’m not going to ignore that feeling in my chest that’s been causing me to feel all strange around Ash. Because it’s fighting to get out for a couple of days now, and I won’t keep it inside of me just because some stupid rule tells me that a nurse isn’t allowed to date a patient.

“Ash—“ I lay my hand on his and squeeze gently. “—that was- I loved it!”

Ash gasps, his expression surprised, as if he didn’t think I was ever going to reply.

His eyes meet mine and I swear that something inside of Ash makes them shimmer like a jade ever since we kissed. And as he asks, “Really?” he looks so relieved and happy to me.

I nod. “Really!”

I wrap my arms around Ash, not caring about the people around us, who must be wondering who the strange foreigner and the limp American are. I don’t hesitate before giving Ash a short kiss on the cheek and I don’t let my voice falter when I whisper, “I think I love you, Ash.”

Ash’s breath jolts and I can feel his heart racing against my chest. His voice is clear and steady for the first time in weeks, when he tells me he thinks he loves me back. But it immediately breaks when he grabs me tighter and admits that today, indeed, has been the best birthday ever.

Chapter Text

Aslan Callenreese

 15 Aug. 2018

We kissed.

That isn’t something I would’ve ever thought would happen between Eiji and me. He’s not at all my type, and even though he never really appeared straight to me, I thought I was into girls only.

That isn’t the only thing that caused me to be shocked about this turn of events. Eiji is one for rules, he seems to like them, and we both know it’s taboo when a nurse starts dating a patient. Still, even though we tried ignoring our kiss for about half a day, we found ourselves searching for the other’s attention. I couldn’t keep pretending I didn’t love the quirky Japanese nurse, and I don’t think Eiji could ignore his feelings for me.

We have decided to see how it goes, and make sure no one finds out.

What else has changed is that Eiji seems even more worried ever since my birthday. He has the right to worry, because I’m growing weaker. Especially my muscle strength has gotten so much weaker.

I can barely hold my book up when reading, and swallowing has become a task on its own.

I almost choked on food twice yesterday. It was scary, but not as scary as Eiji made it seem afterwards by immediately switching my solid food to pre-blended meals. He said it was for my own safety, but I saw in his eyes that he was just worried that I would choke so badly that I’d get hurt.

That’s why, today, my breakfast is a green smoothie-like meal instead of actual food.

“Looks—“ I hesitate, tilting the cup with straw in different directions; maybe it will look good from a certain angle? “—delicious.” It doesn’t look delicious at all, it looks like it’s eaten at least once already.

“I know it doesn’t look amazing,” Eiji admits, sitting down beside my bed as I keep inspecting the pre-blended breakfast. “But at least I got them so far that you’re still allowed to eat normal food.”

I shrug; maybe Eiji’s right. When Griffin’s muscles had grown so weak that swallowing food was becoming a problem, they almost immediately gave him a feeding tube for safety.

I move closer to the cup, so I don’t have to exhaust my muscles by lifting the cup from the table. Instead I use the straw to get the food from the cup to my mouth.

It surprisingly lukewarm, even though I thought it would just be cold.

“What do you think?” Eiji hesitantly asks.

I glance at him, taking another sip of the blended food, and shrug. “Tastes like vegetable soup.” I swallow another gulp of the food and add, “But it makes swallowing a little easier.”

I still feel how the food moves through my throat slower than usual, but at least I don’t have to chew for half an hour before swallowing.

Eiji smiles. “I’m very glad to hear that.”

I smile back at him, and when he blushes a little I feel happier than before. I was a little down when I woke up this morning, because I knew eating pre-blended food would feel like a step closer to becoming depended. But now that I’m actually sipping on my new type of meal, I realize normal people eat soup too all the time, so it’s not strange to eat soup-like meals three times a day.

“Anyway,” Eiji continues. “Are there any vegetables or fruits you really like?”

I glance at Eiji, perking my eyebrow at him. “What? Why?”

Eiji chuckles awkwardly before explaining that he actually made that blended meal at his own house this morning. “But I only had tomatoes and spinach at home.”

I now get why it’s such a vibrant green color, spinach does that to everything; yes, even to clothes.

“If you have vegetables you like, or fruits maybe, you can just say it.” Eiji glances away shyly. “I want to make sure you can at least enjoy eating your meals.”

“Drinking, you mean,” I correct him, taking another sip of the meal Eiji made especially for me.

“Yeah.” He chuckles, his cheeks have a slight hint of pink. “So, which foods do you like?”

I shrug, telling him that I’ve always liked the taste of peaches, cherries and bananas. I admit that I actually don’t mind most fruits. “Please, never use pineapple or kiwi fruit, though.”

“Why not?” Eiji asks. He leans closer and his voice sounds like he’s genuinely interested in why pineapple and kiwi fruit became my sworn enemies.

I close my eyes briefly, thinking back to a memory I barely remember.

It wasn’t that long ago, maybe seven years, but the memory is so vague that it could as well have happened when I was three. But fortunately I still recall a little of what happened.

“Well, you know how pineapple makes your mouth all tingly?” I ask Eiji, and he immediately nods. I knew it wasn’t some sort of allergic reaction and just a thing that happened to everyone.

“Griffin told me it was because the pineapple eats your tongue, or something. I never liked pineapple for that reason,” I explain. “But one day Griffin was eating kiwi fruit and asked if I wanted to have some of it.” I still remember that I was happy that he wanted to share. “But it gave me the same reaction as pineapple gave me, so I didn’t like it.”

Eiji glances at me and says, “But kiwi fruit and pineapple aren’t supposed to do the same thing.”

“What?” I ask, taking a small sip of the tomato and spinach juice he made. “Really?”

Eiji shakes his head, chuckling. “I guess you were just allergic to kiwi fruit all this time.”

I snort, because I never even thought that would be possible; I thought it just was what kiwi fruits do.

“I’m allergic too, to kiwi fruit,” Eiji tells me. “But I only just recently found out as well.”

He explains that the pineapple indeed has some acids that dissolves the mucus that coats your tongue, but kiwi fruit doesn’t have those same acids. Which means that, if kiwi fruit causes your tongue to tingle or swell up, it’s because of an allergy. “So it’s good you didn’t eat them too much.”

“Yeah,” I say, snickering lightly. “So, you’ve got more fruit-facts?”

Eiji gasps happily and nods. “Yes!”

I smile at his enthusiasm and encourage him to start talking; that way I don’t get bored while eating.

He starts talking about how he found out a lot about fruits, vegetables and plants because of the research for a diet; he’s been working on a diet for the B1 treatment.

I listen to him rambling about different types of vegetables and how he found out that some are actually very good for my memory. It’s really cute to see him get all hyped up about something.

I get so distracted by listening to his quirky accent, that I take a bigger gulp than I’m supposed to.

I feel the food going the wrong way. I feel the grainy substance being sucked into my windpipe.

Next thing I know I’m shaking, jolting, getting dizzy and lightheaded. I hear myself coughing, and I hear Eiji shouting my name, but it’s all faint because of the loud squeak in my ear.

I gasp for air, but I only get more lightheaded. My vision is blurring at the edges.

Eiji moves into my vision, but I can barely see him as I shake and cough and try to shout for help.

His lips move, but I can’t hear him.

I look into his eyes, dark. Like the shade my vision is slowly turning to.

There are tears in his eyes and I feel them dripping down on my cheeks. After that everything becomes to blurry to see.

Am I crying too?

Or is this what dying feels like?

Chapter Text

Eiji Okumura

 15 Aug. 2018

I stare at my own reflection in the black coffee.

My face is blotchy and red from crying and my arms are numb from the tension. It isn’t nothing to have to give the guy you like abdomen compressions. Even if it’s just for a minute, it’s not at all nice.

He choked, something I knew would happen again. The previous times were tense too, but since it was solid food it was easier to get out of his windpipe with a little force. But he literally inhaled the smoothie this time, causing to block his airway for a longer time.

Max fortunately knew exactly what to do, so as soon as he got word of what happened he stormed into the room. Max started giving Ash air using a bag-valve-mask right away.

And since I was in tears, someone else I barely know, took me away from the scene.

I was told to stay in the hallway, even though they normally don’t order nurses to wait outside. But maybe I’m glad that I’m not inside, pumping air into Ash’s lungs, right now.

I sat down on the other side of the hallway. I buried my face in my arms and knees and waited.

Not much later Ibe-san arrived at the hallway, giving me a cup of coffee and a tissue. I don’t know who told him what happened, but he seemed to know exactly what’s going on.

“I’m scared,” I admit to Ibe-san once he’s taken a seat beside me.

I promised myself not to show anyone how much I care for Ash, but I have to vent. I can’t handle seeing him going backwards so quickly, at least not on my own, with no one to talk to about it.

“I get it, Ei-chan.” Ibe-san’s hand rests on my upper leg. He squeezes gently before telling me that he’s sure Ash’s going to be alright. “Max is an experienced nurse, and especially since he cared for Ash and his brother for such a long time, I bet he’s done this millions of times before.”

I nod, knowing that Ibe-san’s probably right. But that doesn’t make everything less scary.

“I just don’t know what to do now,” I whisper, tears start to well up in my eyes again. “I don’t know what to do to make Ash’s life less miserable, everything I come up with only makes it worse.”

Ibe-san shakes his head and saying, “That’s not true.”

“How do you know that?” I snap back, immediately regretting my tone.

“Because Max and I are friends.” Ibe-san explains to me that he and Max talk about me and Ash a lot, which I didn’t expect. “Just to make sure that the both of you are doing alright.”

I glance at him, I didn’t know they would be keep such close eye on us; what if they already found out that Ash and I have grown so much closer than we should’ve. I sure hope they don’t know.

“So, I know that Max thinks Ash actually has been doing better since your arrival,” Ibe-san explains.

“Really?” I take a sip of the coffee Ibe-san brought me. “Because it doesn’t feel that way.”

Ibe-san tells me that even though Ash may seem like he’s doing worse, since he reached stage four and all, he’s doing much better emotionally. “He used to be really withdrawn, but ever since you arrived, he’s been much more cheerful and open about himself.”

I take a deep breath; that may be true, but that doesn’t mean he’ll be alright in the end.

Just when I’m about to ask Ibe-san about what’s best for me to do to make sure that Ash will be okay in the end. The door opens and Max walks into the hallway; is expression is relieved but serious.

“And?” I ask, jumping up and spilling coffee on the floor. “How’s Ash?”

Max smiles carefully. “He’s been conscious and reassured me that he’s okay.” Max pauses before adding, “But he’s very tired, so maybe it’s best to let him sleep for a minute.”

I nod and allow myself to blow a sigh of relief; fortunately Ash is okay, because he really didn’t look good a few minutes ago. He was pale and drained of energy as he coughed. I really thought my first aid, though fully trained, wouldn’t be enough to keep him from downfall.

“Now what?” I ask Max once I’ve gotten my act back together.

Max’s expression turns more serious and he even looks a little sad when he admits that Ash will need a G-tube. “He keeps choking on food, it’s dangerous.” Max takes his hand through his hair and sighs. “But I can’t say that letting him go under general anesthesia for the surgery is without risks either.”

I stare down at the ground, knowing that Max is right. This exactly why we wanted to delay the placement of a G-tube for as long as possible; Ash’s brain might not be able to handle the procedure. He could end up in a coma, or with brain damage, or possibly something even worse.

“I-Is there no other way?” I ask Max. “Like a nasogastric tube instead of a gastrostomy?”

Max shakes his head sadly and tells me that won’t be an option. “Ash is in enough pain as it is, giving him a nasogastric feeding tube will only make him feel more miserable, believe me, we tried with Griffin.” Max swallows audibly, probably remembering something bad that happened. “We have to spare Ash that pain and just give him a G-tube straight away.”

“B-But—“ My voice falters, there’s no point in trying to tell him otherwise. He knows what works and what doesn’t, and if he says it’ll only make Ash more miserable, I don’t want to do that. But I don’t want to risk his life just for placing some stupid feeding tube.

“Max, I have a spot this evening,” Ibe-san tells Max in a determined voice. “I’ll do Ash’s surgery.”

After that Ibe-san lays his hand on my shoulder. A shiver goes down my spine right before tears start to well up in my eyes. He squeezes it gently before reassuring me he’ll make sure Ash will be alright.

Max thanks Ibe-san for wanting to work extra time, even though Ash isn’t even Ibe-san’s patient. And once Max has left, I thank Ibe-san for wanting to be the one to do the surgery.

Ibe-san’s expression is grim, but he still forces a smile to comfort me. “Ash’ll be okay, Ei-chan.”

I nod slowly, but I’m still on the brink of crying.

“Say, Ei-chan,” Ibe-san mutters after a silence. “You like Ash, don’t you?”

My heart skips a beat; is it that obvious?

“N-No!” I stammer, my cheeks turning so warm that I must be blushing right now. “Well, you know, just a-as a friends—not any-anything else, you know?”

“Okay, okay.” Ibe-san chuckles, and I know that he know that I’m pretty much in love with Ash. “Your secret is safe with me.” He winks at me. “Just make sure no one else finds out, okay?”

I nod and thank him another time; I’m so lucky that Ibe-san’s a very chill about things like this, otherwise kissing and practically dating a patient would’ve definitely cost me my job.

After that we go on with our own day; Ibe-san giving surgeries to people I don’t know, and me by taking care of Ash. He’s sleeping almost the entire time, but fortunately he’s not running a fever, because that would’ve made the procedure even more risky.

This afternoon I’m finally able to inform Ash about the surgery, and not even an hour later I’m pushing his bed down the hallway and to the operation room on another department.

I don’t even know who’s more nervous, Ash or me.

When I ask him if he’s nervous, he doesn’t respond, but his skin is drained of color enough to make me think that he’s at least dibble as anxious as I am. It must be that he’s more scared, because it’s not me who’s going under anesthesia in only a couple of minutes.

As Ibe-san gives Ash his drugs via an IV after we reach the operation room, I see fear in Ash’s green eyes. There’s no tears, but his voice is weak when he whispers, “I don’t want to die.” His hand clenches mine, and I squeeze his back in fear.

I manage to fake a smile and promise him, “You’re not going to die.”

Ash’s grip grows weaker, but his eyes are still staring right into mine.

I stare straight back into his.

Just as I’m about to repeat myself, to make sure he heard me and also to convince myself, his gaze falters. His eyes roll back before his eyelids close slowly; he’s asleep.

He went to sleep, and I don’t know yet if he ever will wake up again.

Chapter Text

Aslan Callenreese

 15 (and 17) Aug. 2018

Opening my eyes doesn’t feel like waking up.

My head feels foggy, my thoughts all scrambled and upside down. My thoughts aren’t the only things that are completely twisted and turned, but my vision is also warped.

I look into a dark room, but my vision is white and blurred at the edges. But even though everything is very out of focus, I almost immediately recognized the black haired nurse sitting by my bed.

He’s cradling a cup of coffee, and his eyes seem to be ringed with black circles.

How late it is? I wonder, when I realize that my room must be pitch black because the curtains are drawn, which they almost only do during the night. Why is Eiji still here?

I open my mouth, hoping to ask him what on earth he’s still doing in the hospital; he should be lying in bed and sleeping for hours by now, or I think so at least. No sound comes out of my mouth, just a faint breathing that Eiji seems to hear.

He looks up and his eyes meet mine almost right away.

He leans closer, whispering, “You’re awake, Ash?” before laying his hand on my shoulder. His touch is barely noticeable, but I hear his voice loud and clear. I also manage to nod; I’m able to move.

Eiji’s face, I would kill to see it again; he looks so happy, so relieved, before uttering a cheerful “yes!”. At first I’m a little confused about why he’s so glad about me waking up in the middle of the night, but then everything that happened a few hours ago hits me.

I could’ve died.

I was brought under general anesthesia and I could’ve passed away because of it. Of course Eiji’s happy to see that I’m awake and responding. And I share the same happiness as him now that I know that I pulled through, that I survived a surgery that could’ve been fatal.

“You must be exhausted,” Eiji says after a while. “Do you want to rest a little longer?”

I close my eyes briefly, inhaling the air that’s clearly coming from a mask; I’m not tired enough to want to deal with my nightmares just yet. When I open my eyes, my vision is less blurred and I’m able to see Eiji better. He’s glaring into my eyes, awaiting an answer.

I focus all my strength on my voice and manage to whisper, “Read to me.” It hurts to speak and for a second I don’t have the slightest clue whether Eiji even heard me or not.

Fortunately he nods and grabs one of the books that Shorter and he got me for my birthday. It’s one of the first fictional stories I’ll be reading, and I’m curious to what makes people love these books more than non-fiction. Eiji bought it because it has an audio book, but Eiji doesn’t take the headphones and MP3-player from my cabinet.

Instead he sits down beside my bed, opens the books and clears his throat. “Dusty, empty shoe boxes, stacked taller and wider than her slim body, wobbled as she presses her back against them, tucking her bony knees into her chest.” His reading voice is softer than his normal speaking volume, giving the scene something tense. “Breathe. Just breathe. Breathe. Wedged in the back of the dingy closet, she didn’t dare make a sound as she sucked her lower lip between her teeth.”

I wonder which book it is, since the letters on the cover are too blurry to read. I also wonder if he’s read this book before, but I doubt he has since he sometimes seems to stumble over certain words.

“Focusing on forcing every grimy breath into her lungs, she felt tears well in her eyes.”

Eiji glances up at me, and as our eyes meet he smiles lightly; it’s so cute when he does that and his cheeks turn all pink and there’s little dimples in his cheeks.

I feel myself getting redder as well; I can’t believe how easily this guy can make me blush.

He keeps reading, his voice growing hoarser with every sentence he reads. I can hear that he’s tired, but he doesn’t lose concentration once, causing the entire scene he reads out loud to be full of tension. Almost like I’m that girl who has to hide away from her foster parents because she’s done something she wasn’t supposed to do; like I already know that what’s going to happen to her isn’t going to be good, just because Eiji’s tone tells me so.

“She opened her mouth, screaming silently into the doll,” Eiji whispers, his eyes glancing at me over the edge of the book. “Don’t make a sound.”

With that, a knot in my stomach from listening to the scene growing tenser, Eiji suddenly closes the book. “That’s the end of the chapter.” He grins. “You’ll have to read it yourself to see what happens.”

I frown; is this his idea of a joke?

Hell, no, he’s not even kidding. He literally puts the book away after reading me such a tense scene and expects me to sleep? That can’t be real.

“The power of fiction, huh?” Eiji says with a wink, like he’s teasing me for sticking to informational books for such a long time. He seems to notice the unamused look on my face, because he soon adds, “You can read the entire book tomorrow if you want, but you really need to rest; it was a big intervention, so you can’t just expect your body to stay awake for so long afterwards.”

I guess he’s right, but then why did he pick that book? Was it purely to proof that fiction’s better than what I normally read? Because that would be so mean of him.

He gives me a smile, before leaning closer and kisses me on the head. “Good night, Ash,” he whispers before backing up. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

After that, or rather after looking into my eyes for an uncomfortably long time, Eiji leaves my room. With the sound of the door closing, my brain seems to switch out; within seconds I’m knocked out.

I guess I was tired after all, because I manage to sleep from that moment all the way to, not the next, but the day after that. I wake up around lunch-time; this is because Eiji wakes me up.

I got enough sleep.

His eyes greet me and my day can’t even get bad anymore, at least that’s what I think.

My day actually can get bad, sadly. Because even though Eiji’s smile makes me so happy, I’m weak from sleeping for over thirty hours. And I’ve got a headache from sleeping so long to, and on top of that the antibiotics make my muscles a little sore.

“You think you’ve got enough energy to get your first G-tube feed?” Eiji asks me when I’ve been awake for about an hour. “We’ve done some rounds of antibiotics and waited long enough for you to try out feeding through it for the first time.”

“Yeah,” I reply, because I’m hungry and my stomach’s killing me. I don’t know what they fed me when I was practically unconscious, but I do know that it wasn’t enough to fill me up.

“Great,” Eiji says cheerfully, but I’m not sure if he’s actually as cheerful as he pretends to be. “I’ll just go fetch the things will need.” He walks to the door and turns around to say, “I’ll be back in a sec.”

And he is, almost like he had the things stalled out just around the corner. He walks back into my room with all kinds of medical devices I remember vaguely from when Griffin being tube-fed.

“It’s a lot to take in at once,” Eiji warns me, glancing at the material he gathered. “But I’m here to explain it to you as often as you need me to, okay?”

I tell him that’s fine, even though I know how tube-feeding is done for the most part. There used to be days where Max let me help taking care of Griffin in the morning, which means I have done feeding with a syringe before; this is different though, Eiji has brought something like a pump.

He starts explaining, and once he’s told me all about the materials I’ll always need, we can actually start the process. This is also the first time I see my own feeding tube; a button-like entrance into my stomach, which looks really strange. It’s still even a little red around the edges.

After that we start feeding with the pump.

Eiji explains everything step-wise and slow, but I feel like my brain is only able to take in so much information at once. I’ve forgotten most of what he told me by the end of his explanation.

“Now that that’s done—“ Eiji’s washing his hands after finishing up. “—enjoy your meal!”

I smile and thank him, but getting fed by a pump doesn’t even feel like eating anymore. It should only take a couple of minutes, but I have to rest afterwards. I think it’s annoying that that time goes by without me being able to do too much.

“So, what are you going to do in the meantime?” Eiji asks me.

I shrug, and that’s when I remember the book Eiji read me from when I just woke up from the anesthetics. I don’t remember much of what he read me, I just know I was excited and wanted to continue. So I ask him about the book he was reading me from.

“Oh, you mean The Problem With Forever?” Eiji asks me. “I put it in your cabinet so I think you should be able to reach it without having to get out of bed. Do you want the MP3-player too?”

I shake my head. “I think I’ll read more quickly without an audio book.”

Eiji chuckles and admits that I’m probably right.

Once I got the book from my cabinet without moving much, because moving with the feeding tube still hurts a little, Eiji says he’ll leave me alone for a while. “That way you can read calmly.”

I thank him silently before looking down at the book. I don’t care to read what’s on the cover and immediately open it on the page where Eiji put a bookmark.

I start to read, but none of the sentences make sense. When I start to think about it, even the letters don’t look familiar to me; has Eiji bought me a book in Japanese or something?

I flip the page, and go back to where I was reading, but the letters haven’t changed. And they’re not foreign enough to be Eiji’s language or Shorter’s for that matter; they are the letters like I know them, except I don’t know them at all. Like I know that I should be able to read it, but I can’t.

I feel my breathing getting faster with every second that passes; I’m close to hyperventilating.

If I can’t read… what does that mean? I know exactly what it means, that’s the problem. It means that, even though they thought the surgery didn’t have side effects, it had major ones.

If I’m not able to read, that means I’m growing weaker mentally; before I know it I’ll be just like Griffin, just a shell of the person I used to be.

Chapter Text

Aslan Callenreese

20 Aug. 2018

Losing my reading skills wasn’t nothing. I actually needed the audio books Eiji bought me, because the letters just grew less familiar to me. Each time I tried to read, it got more confusing.

Eiji asked me once, Saturday, why I suddenly was using the audio books. I lied to him and said that I didn’t want their money to go to waste. In reality I just didn’t want to worry him.

I kept it to myself for the entire not, just so he wouldn’t have another thing to worry about; he’s such a caring soul, but he’s already pulling all-nighters trying to create a treatment. I don’t want to give him my rapidly reducing brain function to be part of what keeps him up all night.

Other than that everything seems to be doing as usual. I barely get out of bed, and when I do, I use the crutches to drag myself from place to place. I tend to bump into things, but that’s just become part of being me, I guess; I’ll have to live with it anyway.

It’s Monday, one of Eiji’s work days, which means I’ll have to ignore his questions again.

I’m sitting on my bed, with the audio book on my ears and a book in my lap; pretending to be able to read what’s the female’s voice is reading to me out loud, while I clearly can’t.

Eiji’s doing something in my bathroom, probably either cleaning or gathering the clothes that have to be washed today. I’m not sure, but I try not to focus on him too much; no one can read without looking at the book they’re reading, so if I don’t pretend, Eiji will notice right away.

When the letters are starting to blur my vision, I close my eyes, listening to the woman’s voice only.

That’s when I feel it; a warm, wet, spot spreads all over my sweatpants. When I open my eyes, gasping in terror, I smell it; the strong odor of urine.

“Shit—“ I whisper, looking underneath the blankets to see exactly what I feared. My pants, my blanket and my mattress; they’re all soaking wet. And they’re getting more soaked with every second that passes. I cannot control it; it just keeps flowing until there’s nothing left in my bladder anymore.

“What are you doing?” Eiji asks, and my heart seems to shrink.

I look up, staring right into Eiji’s worried eyes. I don’t want him to find out that I just peed myself; I don’t want him to worry even more about me. So I lower the blankets and lie, “Nothing.”

“Ash—“ Eiji glances at his shoes and shakes his head. “What happened?”

“Nothing, okay!” My cheeks get warmer and my head is throbbing like it’s going to explode any moment now. It’s not because I’m mad at Eiji, I just do not want him to find out.

I don’t know what I was thinking, because as soon as Eiji takes a couple of steps closer, he notices the wet spot in my blankets. His face grows gloomy, and his eyes are filled with fear. Still his voice stays calm and kind when he asks, “You lost control of your bladder, right?”

I nod slowly; no use in lying anymore.

“That’s not something to be ashamed of,” Eiji promises me, but he doesn’t get that I’m not embarrassed; I’m worried because this means I’m getting even weaker than I already was. “Just go to the bathroom, okay? I’ll get you some clean clothes and new bedding.”

I take a deep breath and nod. I do exactly as Eiji tells me, because I’d make his work even harder if I’m going to go in against his will. So I throw the soaked blankets off myself and step on the floor.

My crutches usually are enough to help me get on my feet, but it’s a little harder today. Maybe it’s because I’m tired, maybe it’s because I’m just extremely weak today; but I’m sweating as I push myself upright, that’s how much effort it takes.

I take a few steps away from my bed, but I notice how my legs will barely move like I want them to. It’s like I’m dragging dead-weight behind me. And before I know it I collapse onto the ground.

My legs can’t carry the weight.

“Ash!” Eiji’s voice echoes through my throbbing head.

I try to move my legs, but they won’t respond the way I want them too. Some muscles contract and my legs shake a little, but they’re not helping me get up again. So instead of going on with my life like I normally would when tripping, I lay there screaming at my legs.

“Just move!” I shout, punching my leg. It gave a painful spasm as response, but other than that it doesn’t move. “Why aren’t you just moving!?”

Eiji’s arms wrap around me, and his voice is quiet when he whispers, “Stop.”

Tears start streaming over my cheeks as I let myself collapse on Eiji’s lap. I have been on the brink of crying for days, ready to let it all out, I just wish Eiji didn’t have to be the one to comfort me again.

“Try to breathe with me, Ash,” Eiji repeats for the next couple of minutes; breathing with me calmly and deeply, counting as he does. “You’re going to be okay.”

My breathes are shaky as I bury my face in Eiji’s lap; I don’t want him to see me like this.

I never intended to let him see me like this; all weak and shaky and sobbing in pain. But everything hurts so much. Not only physically, but mentally too, and I all I can do is cry in his arms.

And he lets me.

For god-knows-how-long Eiji just sits there with me. He tells me not to worry, he tells me it’s going to be okay, and he calmly awaits the moment that my tears will finally stop flowing.

And when that moment’s there, and I manage to look up at him, I see that his face is blotchy too; I can’t believe I made him cry too. All I can do is hurt people; I never want to make him cry again.

He blinks twice, and wipes past his face with his sleeve like he wants to hide that he was crying too.

“You can also cry,” I mutter, glancing at his blotchy cheeks. “It’s not wrong or something.”

Eiji looks a little shocked for a second, but then he tears up again. He doesn’t let the tears in his eyes flow, but I can see them blurring his vision when he whispers, “I-It’s just—your legs, Ash.”

“Whatever,” I mumble. “Who cares? Even I can manage living in a wheelchair.”

It’s a lie; I hate this, and if someone just wants the freedom of being able to walk around as he pleases, it’s me. But I don’t want Eiji to feel bad; I just want to see his smile again.

I lean closer, dragging my useless legs behind me, and I press my lips on Eiji’s. He doesn’t kiss me back, instead he starts sobbing; I can feel his breath against my lips followed by salty tears.

He doesn’t say anything, but the roles are reversed; before I know it Eiji’s burying his face in my shirt instead of the other way around. I don’t know who was crying louder, Eiji or me.

All I know is that this is a big change for the both of us. It’s a strange turn of events that neither of us wants to deal with right now; so even though, I probably hate the fact that my entire life is changing this rapidly, I do understand Eiji. With everyone else, I would get angry with them for crying louder than me, but with Eiji all I can do it hug and comfort him; I know he cares too.

I close my eyes briefly as I rub his jolting back.

There’s only one thing I know; my life is taking a turn for the worst quicker than expected.

Chapter Text

Eiji Okumura

24 Aug. 2018

Ash is doing worse and worse with each day that passes; I know that much.

I also know it hurts him more than he’s showing me. He may not admit it, but I know that not being able to move his legs at all, and not being able to dress or wash himself, it’s the worst for him.

This morning is like any other. I just woke him up half an hour ago and he’s had his breakfast. Which means it’s time for him to get dressed; even though it’s hard, getting dressed each morning will be better for him. Otherwise he’ll only get more exhausted.

“It’s Friday already,” I tell Ash as I walk out of the bathroom with some of his clean clothes.

“Really?” he mutters. “Oh.”

It hurts me to hear the uncertainty underneath that layer of carelessness; he doesn’t want to show it, but he actually forgets what day it is from time to time. That’s also why I want him to keep to a schedule, that way he’ll at least keep track of day and night.

“Would you like to take a bath?” I ask, because he used to shower at least once a week before; his hair is very greasy and if he doesn’t take a bath today, he might never want to take one again. “I can just help you get in the bath and you probably can do the rest yourself.”

Ash’s eyes meet mine and I can see that he’s hesitating for a moment before he says, “Okay then.”

My heart makes a little jump; I’m so happy that he’s open to the opportunity.

“Okay then!” I repeat, more cheerful, before walking over to the walk-in part of his room where we keep a portable wheelchair for him. “Let's do that!”

As I help him from his bed into the wheelchair, for as much as he lets me, I have a smile plastered on my face. I’m not actually that extremely happy, but I just want to make this a fun experience for him. He’s already going through such hard things in his life, if something as simple as taking a bath can at least stay fun, that would be great.

“Thanks,” Ash mumbles, once he’s seated in his wheelchair.

I smile at him and nod. “No problem!” I reply before wheeling to the bathroom.

I turn on the tap so the bath can fill up with lukewarm water while I help Ash undress. This is something we both became somewhat accustomed to; he takes off his own shirt and stuff like that, everything he can do himself, and I finish off by helping him with the things he can’t do himself.

After that we have to see how we’re going to manage his catheter while showering.

He had to get one not soon after his legs stopped working, because his bladder control just disappeared all at once as well; he’s never bathed since he got that catheter.

“So, let me cover that up,” I mutter as I start to protect it with a special plastic leg sleeve. It’s not hard to cover it all up, but I can see in Ash’s eyes that he’s not amused by the fact that it has to happen. Just like he isn’t happy about the fact that I need to be in the bathroom with him to help.

“Are you done?” he asks once I’ve put special tape over the ends of the leg sleeve.

I step back and nod. “Are you ready for your bath?”

He nods as well before telling me that he can get in himself; I doubt it, but I want to let him try. The more he tries to do things himself, the longer his body will take until it stops working completely.

He pulls himself upright, using the iron bars on the wall next to the bath.

He’s standing on his legs shakily, but he’s standing; I have to keep myself from clapping in my hands.

I’m glad I don’t cheer too quickly, because before he can even take a step, his legs break down under the pressure. He collapses, almost hitting his head against the side of the bathtub.

I immediately kneel down beside him and lay my hands on his shoulders. “Are you okay?”

Ash glances at me with pain in his eyes. He winces twice before he replies, “I’m fine.”

I let out a relieved sigh; even though this means his legs have really given up on him completely, I’m just glad that he didn’t get hurt.

“Maybe I should—“ I wrap my arms underneath Ash’s armpits and around his chest. “—help you.”

With my help, he’s able to drag himself onto the side of the bath. Once he’s seated, it barely takes any effort to slowly let him slide into the bathtub; this way he can’t even get hurt.

Once Ash’s seated on the bottom of the bath, he forces a smile as he thanks me for helping him in.

I know deep down he’s actually glad that I was here to help him, but he’s just really getting used to the idea of needing help with daily activities like bathing, changing clothes and such.

And I can’t say I’m completely used to it either.

“I’ll just leave you alone then,” I tell him. “Try not to do anything stupid like getting out of the bath yourself, please.” I give him a warning glance. “Just shout when you’re ready.”

Ash nods before letting himself sink into the water a little deeper.

That looks so comfy. I smile to myself before turning away; he deserves the privacy.

A little later, just when I’m about to walk into the bathroom to see how Ash is doing. Ash’s voice calls out my name from inside of the echo-y bathroom.

When I peek around the corner of the door, his eyes are directed at me. “Is something wrong?” I ask.

Ash nods and tells me he’s not able to reach the soap and he would like to wash his hair now.

That’s when I see the shampoo on the other side of the room; far out of reach. I grab it from the counter and, because I’m holding it anyway, squeeze some of the blue-ish soap into his hand.

“Thanks,” he says, before trying to put the soap in his hair.

I notice how tough it is for him to lift his hands to his head. It pains me to see him struggling just to get the soap in his hands into his hair; he used to do that by himself, and now he can’t.

He winces as he forces his shaking hands closer to his hair. They’re trembling so much that he’s spilling soap all over himself and into the bath’s water.

When it becomes too painful to watch, I put some soap on my own hands and kneel down beside him. I only do it to be helpful, to put an end to the useless attempts, but as soon as the palm of my hand touches Ash’s hair I feel something smacking against my cheek.

Something hit me in the face and it stings right away.

It takes me a moment to realize what just happened. But when I look into Ash’s eyes and see how furious they are, I know it was Ash’s hand that collided with my cheek just now.

I blink twice, trying to process what Ash did and why.

Ash—I feel tears welling up in my eyes. – just hit me.

I stammer something even I can’t understand before getting on my feet.

I don’t think about Ash’s feelings for once, when I turn my back to him and run away as fast as I can.

I run out of the bathroom, away from his room and as far as the hallway goes; I need to get away from him. Tears run down my cheeks and my skin is throbbing with pain.

Why? I ask myself as I collapse at the end of the hallway. Why would he suddenly hit me like that?

I whimper and sob and bury my face into my arms as I feel myself shrink away.

I just wanted to help him—I bite the inside of my cheek and frown in pain. – I thought it was okay.

“Why, Ash!” I shout into my sleeves, feeling the tears stream down my face.

It hurts so much.

Chapter Text

Aslan Callenreese

24 Aug. 2018

I hit Eiji.

I stare down at my hand. The one that just slapped Eiji in the face at full power.

Why did I hit Eiji?

I feel like I could drown myself right now; I just hit the only person I care about without even thinking. I didn’t want to hit him, I just lost control over my emotions.

Having him help me with something this easy, it made me feel so embarrassed and when he acted without asking it felt like my blood started boiling. I don’t know why I’m so impulsive when I’m angry. Hell, I don’t even know why I got so mad. I just did.

The redness of his cheek after I hit him, and the fear in his eyes when he ran away, it haunts me as I try to drag my useless body out of the bathtub.

I have to follow him, apologize to him before it’s too late.

It’s already too late. A voice in my head tells me and my body freezes up. My heart is beating rapidly, but that’s the only thing that’s moving; my body lays in the water silently as I clench to the side of the tub. There’s no use in following him anymore, he doesn’t want you.

With that tears start streaming over my cheeks again. I can’t hold them in anymore, just like I couldn’t hold back my anger when I should’ve. And I don’t even manage to stop crying when Max walks into the bathroom and finds me crying like a child.

“Ash!” His voice is loud, too loud, but worried. “I just saw Eiji running down the hall crying, did something happen between the two of you?”

I don’t think he’s noticed my tears yet when he says that, but as soon as he realizes that I’m crying as well, he crouches down beside me. He starts shushing me, like I’m a child; I almost get mad again.

But this time I manage to keep it inside, which makes the fact that I just lost it with Eiji even worse.

“What happened?” Max asks me again, once I’ve calmed down a little.

I close my eyes briefly and swallow audibly; what if they’ll never let Eiji near me after what I’ve done?

“I-I couldn’t help it—I lost control—“ I take a deep breath; have to pay for my sins. “I hit him.”

Max’s eyes get bigger right before he furrows his eyebrows sternly. “You did what?”

“I slapped him in the face,” I repeat, and I feel the words torture me. “I didn’t mean to.”

Max takes a calm breath before shaking his head. “I know, Ash.”

“How on earth can you know!” I shout, swatting the water with my hand in anger and fear. “You never have your emotions take over! They just—“ I let out a sob. “It hurts.”

Max’s expression softens. “I know,” he repeats calmly. “Griffin used to be like that too. Do you know how many times he yelled at me, scratched or slapped me?”

I gasp; it couldn’t have been that way, Griffin was one of the world’s kindest people. Max was his best friend and, unlike me, Griffin would never even dare to hit anyone he cared about.

“But that didn’t make him less of a good guy.” Max stares down at my hand sadly, before his gaze meets my eyes. His glare is intense when he says, “But you have to apologize to Eiji, okay?”

I nod, because he’s completely right.

So I allow him to help me get out of the bathtub and get dressed in a wheelchair. And for the first time in a long while I’m glad that Max is here; I know he’s done some things I can never forgive, but maybe he’s not as bad as I’ve been making him out to be.

“Thanks,” I even mumble once Max is wheeling my down the hallway.

“No problem,” Max says before humming softly; I can’t believe he’s able to hum when my friendship with Eiji is on the line here. He even sings one line of the song, over and over again.

“C-Can you stop?” I mutter, because it’s starting to get on my nerves, but also because I see Eiji through the window of the nurse’s lounge. I can see that he’s holding a cool pack against his cheek.

“Sure sure,” Max replies, before asking me if I’m ready to face Eiji.

I nod, even though I’m nowhere near ready; what am I going to tell him? I’m sorry for punching you in the face when you were only trying to help me, because that’s not going to cut it.

When Max wheels me inside, I feel my heart starting to race.

Eiji looks up, and when his eyes meet mine, I almost start crying right away; this is not the time to cry. So I don’t let the tears flow, and neither does he.

“Eiji—“ My voice breaks. “I-I’m sorry about hitting you. I didn’t want to, I couldn’t control myself.”

Eiji glances away before he lowers the cool pack. Maybe he just didn’t want to get distracted by the cool pack, or maybe he wants to show me what I’ve done. But he reveals the swollen red skin.

I gasp, seeing what I’ve done to his face; that must’ve hurt so much, so why did I do it?

“I have no idea how to apologize to you,” I tell him in-between soft whimpers. “P-Please, forgive me.”

Eiji’s eyes meet mine. They’re usually so kind and warm, but for the first time they’re kind of cold.

His voice is bland when he replies, “You really hurt me, Ash.”

My heart skips a beat, my breathing gets slower and harder; how can a person that kind sound so cold at a moment like this? How does he sound so mad while his expression is so calm?

“You don’t just hit people.” He pauses, frowning just so slightly. “Keep that in mind.”

“I will!” I reply. “I won’t ever hit you, or anyone, again! J-Just forgive me ple—“

Eiji opens his mouth, silencing me, before he smiles carefully. “Of course I’ll forgive you.”

Tears well up in my eyes and I can’t even think normally anymore; is he mad? Or happy? Or sad?

“I’ll forgive you,” he repeats, walking towards me and wrapping his arms around me. “But don’t ever do that again, promise?”

“Promise,” I whisper into his hair before kissing him on his hurt cheek.

“What the—“ Max’s voice sounds from behind me; I completely forgot that he was standing there.

My heart starts racing again, and when my eyes meet Eiji’s I can see that he’s also stressed out by the new problem I just introduced. I shouldn’t have kissed him; I keep making such stupid mistakes.

“I-It’s not what you think!” Eiji squeaks, waving with his hands frantically.

I can’t see Max’s face, but when he mutters, “This is exactly what I think it is.” I can hear in his voice that he’s not amused. We all know that nurses aren’t allowed to start a relationship with patients, and friends don’t kiss friends.

“Okay and maybe it is,” I reply bluntly. “Maybe Eiji and I are together. So what?”

Eiji’s eyes get bigger and I can see the fear building up inside of them.

Max stays silent. I’m counting the seconds until he’ll reply, only tenth seconds; I’m surprised.

“Well, then that’s okay with me,” Max replies, but his voice is hesitant. “I guess.”

“Really?” Eiji squeaks at the same time that I ask, “What?”

“I don’t mind, love is love.” Max pauses and sighs. “I won’t stop you. But you’re breaking the rules.”

“We know,” Eiji replies. And I add, “It won’t always go perfect. But please let us try to love, okay?”

Chapter Text

Eiji Okumura

27 Aug. 2018

After both Max and Ibe-san found out about Ash and me dating, that became less hard for us. We don’t have to worry about one of them walking in on us kissing anymore.

But that seems to be the only thing that’s gotten less hard.

I don’t know how hard the past days have been on Ash, but they’ve hurt me to my core; waking me up in the middle of the night, because I just don’t want them to be true.

Where his body previously was our biggest obstacle, his brain has really started to give up on him too. I’ve seen him get worse with each day that passes; forgetting which day, or month or even which season it is. He suddenly really needs my help choosing the right clothes, not only the ones that I can get on him the easiest, but also because he has no clue what weather it is.

It’s not easy.

It isn’t easy for me.

But it isn’t easy on him either; I’ve seen him start crying or throw things around the room in anger, just because he couldn’t seem to remember a name of an object.

It’s worse when he just wakes up and on moments like these, I’m convince he sometimes even forgets who I am to him; I don’t blame him whenever he takes a moment, but it does hurt.

Today is another day like that. Where my heart starts aching as soon as I walk into the room and find him dazed for a moment.

But that’s not even the worst, because when I’m putting on my outside-shoes so I can take Ash outside for a little while, he suddenly asks, “Don’t we need a jacket?”

It’s one of the warmest summer days; so warm even that I put Ash’s long hair in a ponytail and I didn’t even put my uniform’s vest this morning. But he’s dead-serious about his questions.

“Huh?” I ask, turning around to Ash once I’ve finished tying my shoelaces. I glance at the window behind him; I’m thinking maybe it started raining or something, but it’s great weather.

I gaze back at Ash and notice that he’s not only serious about what he just asked me, he actually looks like he’s cold; his skin is paler than usually and his armchair is standing upright.

“I think it’s a little hot for a jacket,” I reply, scratching the back of my head. I smile kindly to hide the fact that seeing Ash like this really hurts me deep down. “But if you’re cold I can get you a blanket.”

Ash nods. “Yeah.”

I get turn around to get him a blanket from one of the cabinets; I don’t even where they put the extra blankets, because I’ve only been working here since the start of summer. But if he thinks he needs one, I feel like I have to search for one as long as it takes to find one.

I eventually find a plaid blanket pushed away in the back of one of the many cabinets.

Ash’s expression grows sadder when I cheerfully say, “I found one!’ before showing him the blanket. I ask him if something’s wrong while draping the patterned blanket over his legs.

“I don’t know,” Ash mumbles, staring down at the blanket. “I think it’s probably just nothing.”

I swallow thickly before getting my act back together; the act of a cheerful nurse, pretending that nothing’s wrong with how confused Ash is acting lately even though it really freaks me out.

We go outside and for a moment everything seems normal.

Ash is chatting with me like we normally do and I actually feel myself smiling from time to time.

But then his voice suddenly falters and the next time he speaks it’s all slurred.

“Ash?” I reply. “Are you okay?”

I hear a soft whimper. “I totally forgot—“ Ash bursts out in tears, crying out loud as he clenches the patterned blanket in his hands. “I completely forgot about him!”

I stop his wheelchair and walk around to the other side. I kneel down before him and look him in the eye before asking, “You forgot? About who?”

His eyes are bloodshot and his cheeks are a blotchy red. “About Griffin,” he cries. “This blanket, it belonged to him, but I completely—“ He swallows audibly. “I forgot all about him.”

I lower my gaze sadly. If he’s even forgetting about someone like Griffin, a person who’s so important to him even though he’s not around, that means his memory is really doing worse than I thought.

“I keep forgetting things,” Ash tells me, tears roll down his cheeks at a rapid pace. “And I just can’t seem to remember them for such a long time. I-I don’t want to forget Griffin, or you, or anyone!”

I bite the inside of cheek, thinking of a way to help him.

There’s no treatment yet, even though my research going well, I’m not quick enough when it comes to developing a proper treatment for someone who’s already as far gone as Ash is.

“What if you write it down?” I suggest after a while.

Ash starts crying even more, and I have no idea what I said wrong until he whispers, “I haven’t been able to read or write for at least two weeks now; I-I just forgot how to read and write—“

I swallow, feeling how the pain in my chest only grows worse as the day continues. But I’m not ready to give up on Ash yet; I need his memory to pull through until I’m able to develop a treatment.

“Then I will write it down for you,” I tell him with a determined voice. “We’re going to go back to your room and I’m going to write it down. You’ll tell me everything you want to remember, okay?”

“You will?” Ash’s eyes meet mine and I’m certain I see them shimmer for a second.

I nod and tell him that I will write down every word he says. “You won’t forget. Not on my watch!”

And I keep that promise; I do exactly as I told him, and once he’s lying in his bed again, I get out a notebook and a pen. “Take your time to think about what you want to tell me,” I tell him.

He looks a little afraid, probably because he’s not sure if he can remember everything, but I’m here to help him with remembering. Even if I don’t know much about Ash’s past, Max does.

He takes a deep breath and nods. “Okay.”

I write down today’s date and wait for Ash to start talking.

He starts off by telling me that, like any other person, he doesn’t remember much of his youth. He just wants to remember what he knows. “So, I never used to have a happy life; Griff and I moved out of my dad’s house when I was very young, after Griffin’s mom passed away and my mother left us.”

Apparently that’s all he remembers of when he was very young, because next thing he says is that when he was six, Griffin started getting sick. That’s when his life started to take turns for the worst.

He tells me all about their time here, sometimes leaving blankets because he doesn’t remember what happened next; like one time he, Shorter and Griffin played hide and seek throughout the entire hospital. Even though it’s one of Ash’s favorite memories, he states, he doesn’t remember much.

“That’s okay,” I say with a kind smile as I finish writing down the part where Ash hid in Max’s office. It’s actually a shame that I don’t know how that ended, because I don’t think Max would’ve been too happy with a nine-year-old Ash hiding in his office. I might ask Max how it all ended.

“Anyway, we did things like that all the time,” Ash says once he’s gotten over the hurdle of trying to remember Max’s reaction. “We had so much fun until Griffin started get worse when I was eleven.”

I see him swallow before he admits that he can’t recall how it happened, but from one day to the other Griffin just seemed really sad all the time. “He was stuck in bed almost the entire time, so I took him out on daily walks and tried to cheer him up, but he never actually smiled a real smile.”

Ash tells me, that before he knew it, Ash’s symptoms also started to kick in. After that everything went downhill faster than expected; apparently Griffin moved into a minimally conscious state on Ash’s fifteenth birthday.

So that was what Shorter was talking about when he said Ash didn’t have a fun birthday that year. I note down for myself to remember.

“That must’ve been tough.” Is all I manage to say when I see the sad expression on Ash’s face.

Ash nods. “It was.” His cheeks get redder as tears well up in his eyes. “All of a sudden my big brother was less like himself and more like an infant; it really hurt me to see him like that.”

He looks up at me and whispers, “I don’t ever want you to see me like that.”

“I won’t.” I swallow and just barely manage to hold back my own tears. I don’t even want to imagine Ash like that; I don’t plan on ever seeing him that way either. “I’ll make sure of that.”

Ash smiles sadly before he reaches out to me with a shaking hand. “Let’s make sure of it together.”

I take his hand in mine and reply, “Together.”

A tear creeps down his cheek, but there’s still a smile on his face. And me? I also fail when it comes to keeping all my tears inside of me when I promise him, “We will get through this.”

A promise; just a couple of words.

I just hope that I can keep it.

Chapter Text

Aslan Callenreese

9 Apr. 2018

Quick heartbeat.

Shallow breathing.

Screaming.

That’s what I hear when I get back from my check-up with Blanca.

I don’t know if Griffin’s screaming the most, or me. I just know that something’s not right when I see my brother’s heart monitor going crazy. He’s gasping for air, and his lips are a blue-ish purple.

I run towards him and lay my hand on his shoulder to make his shrieking stop.

He was doing just fine when we went on our daily walk three hours ago, but now; he seems nowhere near okay to me. His breathing is so rapid, he’s hyperventilating and he seems so scared.

I don’t dare to leave his side for a second, so instead of searching for Max like I normally do, I press the call-button besides Griffin’s bed. I wait, holding Griffin’s hand, praying Max will come on time.

“Max is on his way,” I whisper in Griffin’s ear, but he’s crying so hard that he probably can’t even hear me. “You’re going to be okay.”

The door opens and Max storms into the room.

I don’t have to meet his gaze to see his faith breaking into a million pieces. He glares at Griffin for a moment and, for the first time in years, I see tears in Max’s eyes.

“What’s going on?” he asks me while crouching down beside Griffin’s bed on the other side.

“I don’t know,” I tell him, but when I take a glance at Griffin’s jolting limps, I know it’s a seizure and I know Max knows it too. “He hasn’t one in weeks, though.”

Max nods and turns his attention to Griffin. I watch as he lays his hand on Griffin’s forehead and says, “Hey, buddy.” His voice breaks when Griffin gives the most pained moan; Griffin is suffering so badly, and both Max and I know that dead-well.

Max strokes my older brother’s hair as I hold onto Griffin’s hand tightly.

Griffin grimaces and when his eyes open for a second, they immediately roll back before he squeezes them close again. He groans as he presses his head up against Max’s hand.

Max nods slowly, I don’t know what he’s thinking, but his eyes are filled with tears when he asks Griffin, “You’re thinking the same as me, aren’t you?” Max uses his sleeve to wipe away some saliva that’s dribbling from Griffin’s mouth when he lets out another shriek-like moan. “Yeah, it’s time.”

I feel my breath falter.

“No!” I shout at Max, startling both the nurse and my older brother. “No! It isn’t time for him!”

Max’s eyes meet mine and he closes them briefly before he tells me that it is. He gives Griffin one last pat on the shoulder before getting on his feet again. “I’m sorry, Ash.”

He isn’t looking at me, but at Griffin, when he says, “Griffin’s been like this for three years, this weak. He’s been suffering for so long, Ash; I’m not going to force him to pull through another time.”

Tears start streaming over my cheeks when I realize what’s going on.

I clench my hands into fists and I think about punching Max, but I don’t have enough strength; my body refuses to move, my mind refuses to listen to my impulses, even when Max starts taking Griffin off all life-support. All I can do it sit there weakly and cry out my eyes.

After the deafening sound stops when the heart monitor gets turned off, Max gives Griffin something through an IV. He states that it’s painkillers to make Griffin’s last minutes, or maybe even hours, as comfortable as possible; even though I’m convinced it’s something to make sure he will actually die.

Max crouches down beside Griffin one more time and whispers, “It’s time to rest, Griff.”

Griffin’s eyes open for a very short period of time, but it’s enough to cause even Max to start crying.

“Take your time, have a little longer with your brother, and when you’re ready—“ Max smiles through his tears. “—when you think it’s time, you can go to sleep.”

Max takes a second before he says, “Goodbye, Griff.” and gets on his feet.

He leaves me and Griffin alone, stating that I deserve to spend some time alone with Griffin now.

I look at Griffin’s face as it gets all calm, the painkillers must’ve started working. My chest jolts and tears pour out of me, when the slurping of Griffin’s tracheotomy is the only sound left in the room.

“You in for some poems?” I ask, knowing it’ll be the last time that I’ll ask my brother this.

There’s no response, but I don’t need one; it’s Griffin we’re talking about, he’s always in for a poem.

I start reciting the poems that I know Griffin loves, he always has. I know them all by heart by now.

From the one that’s about people’s hard edges and the song you listen to when you drive home, all the way to the one about thinking and I whisper them all to him.

I’ve done this so many times; comfort him with the things he loved to read when he wasn’t this far gone yet. I remember his voice as he read them all to me so many times.

He used to put lots of pauses for drama and he used to love making gestures with his hands as he did; now he can’t even move, he can’t even speak. Hell, he can’t even smile anymore.

I close my eyes briefly and remember the last time I saw my brother smile. Two years ago, that’s when I saw his smile for the very last time, when I read him his favorite poem.

It was just a vague smile, but maybe, just maybe, I can see it one more time.

I think back to that day, to which poem I was reading to him that moment that he smiled at me for the last time. And I’m almost certain I’m not going to be able to remember before it’s too late.

That’s when I can see it again; one of the pages that were torn at the edges and stained so badly. The page with the text that was barely readable, but it still held the poem that he loved the most.

“I get you, you don’t know how you feel—“ I stroke his head and comfort him by caressing his cheeks.

Griffin’s eyes open, and the corners of his mouth turn upwards just so slightly. I don’t know if I can call it a real smile, but I do know we’ve reached the one poem he was waiting to hear.

I smile through my pain and whisper, “Well, I will tell you this—“ I swallow audibly when I hear how tough breathing seems to be for him. “The world doesn’t make much sense—“

Griffin’s eyes are growing less bright, less lively, and I want to stop but his gaze urges me to finish.

“Without—“ My voice gets caught in my throat when his eyes roll into the back of his head. A strained breath sounds, and I feel his body growing limp. “Without the people you love.”

Chapter Text

It’s not every day that Eiji suddenly walks into my room when it’s already dark outside.

When it happens today, I admit I got startled. It’s not by far late enough to be asleep, and Eiji had already announced that he was coming by later that evening, but I forgot.

“Are you ready?” Eiji asks with a cheerful smile.

He’s carrying bags with something inside of them, but I completely forgot what I have to be ready for until I notice that he’s not wearing his uniform. It all comes back to me slowly, how this morning, he suddenly stated that he wanted to do something fun together.

“We haven’t done anything fun lately,” he said while he was brushing my teeth. And after that he suggested to maybe do a movie night. “You still have the movies Shorter and I gave you after all.”

So that’s why he’s here, after it’s gotten dusk outside, in his sweatpants and a colorful t-shirt.

I’ve never seen him in his normal clothes, but I admit he looks much better in pink, purple and blue than he does in the white uniform he has to wear the entire time.

I answer his question by nodding, because my voice has been doing an awful job at sounding somewhat normal lately, and smile to make sure he gets that I really am ready.

Eiji asks if he can lay beside me, and obviously I nod, because who would deny such request.

He makes sure the fence on the side where I lie is pulled up before lifting me a little to the right. After that puts the DVD of one of his favorite movies, one that’s called “The Nightmare Before Christmas”, in the player before crawling underneath my blankets as well.

We can only do this because the boss isn’t at work on days like this, and Max made sure that he is on a night-shift so we don’t get caught. Or at least, that’s what Eiji told me before he went home this afternoon to chance clothes and get ready for our movie-date.

I glance over at him and immediately remember why I love Eiji again; in this dim light with more colorful clothes he looks so cute. And I can barely believe that I’m allowed to share a bed with a perfect guy like him; but here I am anyway, lying with his legs touching mine under the blankets.

“Ready?” Eiji asks, and when our eyes meet he blushes just so slightly. It’s only because of the pink color in his clothes that I see his cheeks change color.

I find myself staring at him longer than I planned to, and I actually feel a little embarrassed when Eiji chuckles and whispers, “I’m going to be covered in drool after tonight, aren’t I?”

It takes me a moment to realize what he means, but then I feel actual saliva dribbling over my chin.

I want to move my hand to my mouth to wipe it away, but Eiji’s quicker. And after carefully taking away the awkwardness of literally drooling over someone, he kisses me on my mouth.

“I love you.” He smiles before turning to the movie.

I wish my tongue wouldn’t have been so numb, otherwise it would sound perfectly when I said, “I love you too.” back to him. But instead it sounds more like a slurred moan; I hate that talking has become so hard, but fortunately Eiji seems to know exactly what I mean.

“Well, thank you.” He smiles wide and blushes.

After a short silence, and too much eye contact for it not to get awkward, Eiji pushes the play button. The movie starts playing, and I immediately get the impression that Eiji’s not great at choosing romantic movies. It starts with a shot of the woods, followed by a black screen with red letters; they look pretty creepy if you’d ask me, but when I glance at Eiji I only see a wide smile on his face.

It’s when I look back to the screen that my heart seems to stop.

I’m face to face with it.

My enemy.

My worst nightmare with its orange skin and yellow eyes, staring straight at me through the screen.

I let out a whimper of fear and bury my face in Eiji’s t-shirt. Why did he have to choose a movie with pumpkins? Why not just a normal movie that isn’t about world’s scariest thing ever.

“W-What’s going on?” Eiji stammers when I curl up against him and shiver.

I hold him tighter, trying to block out the voices that sing about hailing the pumpkin king.

“Are you afraid?” Eiji asks me, clearly suppressing a chuckle. “It’s a children’s movie, you know?”

“P-Pumpkins,” I manage to bring out.

Eiji snorts loudly before apologizing for laughing at me. “I-It’s just, I’ve never heard of someone with a fear for pumpkins.“ He chuckles, before pausing the movie. “But in that case, we may want to choose a different movie; there’s a lot of them in this one.”

I glance up at him and nod. Maybe it’s better if we do choose one that’s not horror.

Instead of the terrible movie Eiji chose, we eventually settle on a less creepy movie. Eiji says Shorter bought it and Eiji only knows it’s a very long movie and has only seen parts of it.

I don’t actually mind as long as it’s not about pumpkin kings with the purpose of scaring people.

“This one’s called The Titanic,” Eiji tells me while he’s putting it in the player. “It’s actually a very well-known movie with lots of awards, so I’m sure you’ve heard of it before.”

I shrug, I’ve never been too interested in movies, not even the ones that have won lots of awards.

When Eiji’s settled down beside me again, the movie starts playing.

It’s kind of boring at first, and I catch myself looking at Eiji more often than I’m watching the movie. But as the story starts to unfold and the love between Rose and Jack starts to begin, I feel myself melting against Eiji as I get too involved with their relationship.

Eiji’s hand is wrapped around me, and my head is resting against his chest as we watch them grow closer even though everything in the universe is trying to pull them apart.

For Jack and Rose, it’s a boat, that’s bound to sink sooner than later.

For Eiji and me, it’s my brain, that’s bound to cause me to drift away further and further.

A tear slips down my cheek as I realize that my fate is the same as that of all of these people on that boat. I’m sinking into a deep black hole of nothingness, and I can’t do anything about it.

Eiji seems to notice that I’m crying, because not much later, he’s laying beside me in a way that his face and mine are close to each other. He smiles at me and tells me not to cry. He jokes that the sad part has yet to start, but he knows that’s not why I’m shedding tears.

We’re just merely listening to the movie as we get lost in each other’s eyes.

And I don’t ever want to look away from him.

I don’t have to see this movie if it means I’ll have to avert by gaze.

And Eiji seems to think the same, because he keeps looking into my eyes for as long as I look at his.

Eventually I get too tired, and exhaustion causes me to glance away for just a second.

Eiji wraps his arms around me again and whispers, “You’re tired, aren’t you?”

I bury my face in his t-shirt and nod against his chest.

“Okay, then just close your eyes,” he tells, and I can feel his hand caressing my cheek as tiredness takes over. Everything seems to slow down, and to go faster at the same time. I can hear the movie playing in the background, and I can feel Eiji’s fingers carefully rubbing over my skin.

And I know that as long as Eiji’s here, there’s nothing for me to fear, because I can fall asleep and wake up to his beautiful brown eyes the following morning.

Chapter Text

Eiji Okumura

31 Aug. 2018

Yesterday, or rather, a few hours ago, I left Ash’s hospital room.

I went home soon after the movie was done, once I made sure Ash was lying underneath his blankets and on his pillow comfortably. He wasn’t awake, he’d been asleep on my chest for two hours already, but I still gave him a goodnight’s kiss before went home.

It all seemed very normal back then.

But now I’m looking back at it from a completely different point of view.

My cheeks are dry and crusty after having cried for hours in a row. I haven’t slept much more than an hour and the cup of coffee that Ibe-san gave me after driving me back to the hospital in the middle of the night, is the only thing that’s keeping me awake five hours later.

I’ve got Ash’s plaid blanket wrapped around my shoulders, but I’m still shivering as I think back to everything that happened. As I relive the moment that Ibe-san told me we had to get to the hospital. That Max had called; he didn’t know if Ash was going to survive the night.

I close my eyes briefly and notice that I’m not crying anymore; I’ve got no tears left to cry.

They shoot open again when the sound of a door and footsteps startles me. My heart is racing when I see Max and Ibe-san both walking out of the emergency department of the hospital.

“And?” I get up, wobbly on my feet as crying so much has made me dizzy. “How’s Ash! Is he—“

Max’s expression stays blank as he says, “He’s alive.” There’s not a spark of happiness to be found.

“But?” I ask, when I realize that there’s more; of course there’s a but, Ash can’t ever just get a rest.

Max wipes sweat off his forehead. “Look Eiji, I don’t know how to say this any other way—“ He sighs before glancing at me sympathetically. “—but Ash isn’t going to be Ash anymore.”

A lump appears in my throat as I shake my head. “W-What do you mean?” I turn to Ibe-san and shout, “You lied! You said he just had a seizure that went a little bit bad!”

Ibe-san opens his mouth, but closes it again when Max answers for him. “That was what we thought at the moment.” Max walks up to me and lays his hand on my shoulder. “It was a stroke, we must’ve mistaken it for a seizure, or maybe it was the stroke that led to the seizure.”

I stare at him, shaking my head in fear.

“The point is—“ He lowers his gaze. “—to keep Ash from suffering we had to let him slip into an induced coma. I’m sorry Eiji, but I don’t think he’s going to be himself when he comes out of it.”

I close my eyes and wince; I knew I shouldn’t have spend tonight watching movies with Ash, I should’ve just worked on the treatment those hours and then it would’ve been finished. I just thought that, since I was so close to creating a full schedule for treatment, diet and medication, it would be alright if I took one evening off. Instead it’s the one evening that’ll cause me to lose Ash.

“C-Can I see him?” I ask when I’ve gotten everything in my brain back together again; maybe if I see him, I’ll see that there’s still some hope left. Maybe, if my treatment works, I can still save him.

Max nods slowly, but Ibe-san stops him. “Max, this is going to be really hard on the kid, think of it.”

I frown; is Ash doing that bad?

Max tells Ibe-san that it’s up to me to decide whether I want to see Ash or not. But when he turns to me he says, “It’s going to be hell to see your friend like this, believe me, I know. But I really think you should do it before—“ Max takes a deep calm breath. “Before we have to pull the plug on him.”

“What!” I shout at him. “No, no, no! You are not going to do something that brutal! He’s still alive!”

“Look, I’m not happy either, okay.” Max’s expression grows more stern. “But I’ve seen my best friend in a persistent vegetative state for three whole years, I want to spare you the pain of having to care for the shell of your boyfriend for such a long time!”

Ibe-san lays his hand on Max’s shoulder and mutters, “That’s enough, Max.”

I swallow and glare at the floor before pushing past the two older men. “I’m Ash’s nurse too, I get to decide for myself whether I’ll let you do something as morbid as killing my boyfriend.”

“Ei-chan!” Ibe-san’s voice sounds shocked and at the same time horrified when I walk past them with my head held high. But somewhere deep down the both of them must know why I’m doing this.

I take a deep breath before pushing through the door and into the room where Ash should be right now. I want to be inside before they can keep me from seeing at least one more time.

But I wish I wouldn’t have gone through that door when I lay eyes upon the sight inside.

“Ash.” A small whisper escapes from my mouth when I see him lying in a bed, in a dim room.

I don’t need light to see that he’s doing terrible; I can hear it through the sound of the heart monitor, I can see it by the ventilator that’s attached to a trach-tube that wasn’t there before.

My stomach turns and groans as I walk closer to Ash.

He’s paler than ever, and his mouth is hanging open weakly; I wonder if I’m ever going to be able to get him back to the normal Ash. I completely get what Max and Ibe-san said, he does look awful.

I sit down beside him and take his hand in mine, it’s freezing cold.

“I’m with you, Ash,” I whisper in his ear. “There’s no need to be afraid anymore.”

His face remains emotionless and I know this might be permanent from now; I can’t let that happen. I promised he wouldn’t forget, he wouldn’t die, not on my watch; look what I did now.

A hand rests on my shoulder. Ibe-san’s voice is calm but sad when he tells me he’s sorry.

“You don’t have to be,” I reply, because no one except for me could’ve kept this from happening.

“I know you’re blaming yourself,” Max suddenly says, I didn’t even know he had joined us in the room too. “I did that too, with Griff. But please don’t, you can’t help Ash get away from his disease.”

I stare down at Ash’s unconscious body and tell myself exactly what Max just told me; it sounds so surreal. Of course I could’ve saved Ash, if I’d just worked longer, harder, and created a cure.

“There’s no use in beating yourself up about it,” Ibe-san agrees. “You couldn’t help it, Ei-chan.”

Maybe they’re right, but I still feel like I owe something to Ash.

I owe him my life, but I can’t give him my body so he can live on; that’s not how life works.

What I can do is keep my promise to him and make sure he just doesn’t die on my watch.

I swallow thickly and whisper, “You’re not really going to—you know?”

When I turn around to Max I see that he knows exactly what I mean, he just doesn’t want to answer. That gives me enough answers though, he doesn’t need to say “yes” for me to be able to know it.

But I can’t just let them do something like that, not when I promised Ash I would safe him.

Not when I’m so close to creating a treatment.

“Give me three days,” I tell him. “Three days for me to complete the treatment, after that I want you to let me treat Ash for a couple of months; if it doesn’t work, and he stays non-responsive, you can do what you feel like you have to do.” I glance at Ash and feel pain rise in my chest. “Just let me try.”

Chapter Text

Eiji Okumura

4 Sep. 2018

They woke him up.

I finished the so-called treatment yesterday and they gave him medication to wake Ash up. But he didn’t actually wake up; it isn’t like I ever had the hopes that he would wake up fully either.

He probably has quite some brain damage after the stroke, and I would test to see whether he has a cerebral palsy if I wasn’t too afraid to see the results; I don’t want any more misfortune.

And today, even though Ash is barely even conscious, I’ll start the treatment.

I knock on the door before I go inside. Not because I hope to get a response from Ash, but rather because it’s what I’m used to by now.

What’s waiting for me inside stays something that’s terrifying to me.

Ash is lying in a bed with railings, he’s breathing through a trach attached to a ventilator and he’s also connected to a heart monitor and an IV. His breathing is loud and almost disturbing, if you ask me.

“Morning, Ash,” I say when I walk further into the room; I’m sure he can hear me and he shows some non-verbal reaction to whatever I do when I’m near him, but I also know he doesn’t recognize me.

I can see it in his eyes. The way they are way too confused when looking at me, but at the same time they’re so indifferent and empty; that, in that bed, isn’t Ash.

But I’ll still have to work with him, I’m still the nurse who’s taking care of him twenty-four-seven. Literally, because I don’t plan on going home to sleep. I don’t have to be paid for the hours I work overtime, but I’ll just sleep here for a short time, because Ash needs full-time care.

Starting today, at half past seven, with stretches and workouts for his muscles and to prevent sores.

I roll up my sleeves and take a deep breath; I’m a little nervous for this, because I didn’t really do these exercises with Ash before, he wouldn’t let me help him.

“I’m going to start with some leg, hip and knee stretches,” I tell him. “Okay?”

There’s obviously no response, but at least I won’t startle him by doing something without letting him know first. I hope that can give him some peace of mind at least.

I do as I tell him, stretching his hips by carefully bringing his knee closer to his face, and later by holding it to the side for a couple of seconds. I also do some exercises for his arms, fingers and hands before going onto the next step of Ash’s morning routine; breakfast.

It’s through his G-tube, which leaves me to have some time for myself to clean up some things and get ready for the next activity on his tight and special schedule.

It’s barely nine in the morning when I start giving him a bed bath. This is something I’ve done previously, so I’m not as nervous as with the stretches. It is creepy that Ash’s gaze sometimes follows me around as I undress and wash him with a wet cloth completely.

I try not to meet his gaze, because it scares me too much to see him like this. When I reach the part where he’s completely dressed already, but I still need to wash his face, I have to look at him anyway.

His eyes are big, but empty, as stares into my eyes; I know he’s conscious enough to see me, but I don’t know if he has any clue as to where we are or who I am and who he, himself, is.

“Y-You’re ready to have your face washed?” I ask him, swallowing thickly when his mouth opens and saliva drips down his mouth. It sends shivers down my spine, Ash always used to be such a neat and independedly guy, and I know he hates the fact that he’s now not even able to properly swallow.

I wipe it away with the cloth, right away, in hope he didn’t feel the drool that I just saw.

After that I massage some crème onto his cheeks and on his dry hands. And I’m actually convinced I see a slight smile on his face before it goes all emotionless again.

“You like that, huh?” I ask him, and without getting response, I add, “Guess I’ll have to keep that in mind then.” I smile carefully, but it hurts to smile in a situation like this.

I finish creaming his face and use a mechanical lifting device to get Ash from his bed into a special wheelchair. I have to get him all secured with belts and cushions because otherwise he’ll slip right out of it; that’s how bad his muscle control is, he can’t even sit upright himself.

“We’re going out for a little walk,” I explain to him as I drape a blanket over his legs. “I was thinking through central park? It’s even more pretty on a day like today, so I think you’ll enjoy it.”

Ash’s eyes gaze into mine for just a second before losing focus. My heart breaks every time something like that happens, I just want his to gaze into mine for forever.

“Yeah,” I mumble to myself before getting on my feet.

I wheel Ash through the hallways, where we pass Max. I don’t talk with him, we just pass each other, but I can see pain in his eyes when he glances at Ash for a split second.

I know this hurts him, just like it hurts me. I also know he actually doesn’t agree with me giving Ash this special treatment that might not even work, keeping him alive while he’s probably feeling so useless that he doesn’t even want to be anymore. But Max also didn’t pull the plug on Griffin as soon as he entered a minimally conscious state, so he can’t expect me to give up without trying first.

Outside, on the streets, there are more people that give us sympathetic glares like that; older people glancing in a sad way, kids staring in a disgustingly impolite kind of way.

I know Ash doesn’t like being stared at. So instead of taking him on the hour-long walk though central park I initially planned, I soon only walk past the place where we kissed on his birthday. I hope he can see it, as I turn him so he can look out at the lake. I hope it brings back memories.

It does bring back memories for me. Nice ones, from when everything was still so much easier.

I can’t wait to feel his lips on mine, to feel him kiss me back and take his hands through my hair.

Without any sign that he remembers, and no response, I bring him back to the hospital.

I don’t want him to be in public, like this, against his will. But we do stay outside and make a few more rounds through the courtyard, because it’s good for his brain to get some fresh air for at least an hour every day. And after that we go back to his room for lunch.

I make sure to wash his face again after I lay him back in bed. I also rub some crème onto his cheeks again, just because I now know he likes the feeling of that.

After that I tuck him in tightly, so he doesn’t get cold as I get everything together for a short learning session. Now, I can’t let Ash solve math problems or make him read at least ten pages today, like I would have him do if he could; instead I take things that are familiar to him. I’ve gathered poems that apparently he and Griffin used to read a lot and I’ll be reading them to him for the next hour while he gets his lunch through his G-tube. After that he can take a power-nap.

I sit down on a chair beside his bed and open the book Empty Bottles Full Of Stories. Max told me it has a really nostalgic feeling for Ash, since the poems in it practically have always been his bedtime stories when he was younger. And since I want to do everything to get his memory back to normal, or at least as close as possible, I have to call back those familiar feelings.

“Distance has a funny way of reminding you—” I take his hand in mine and rub the back of it as I read to him softly and slowly. “—how two people could either grow apart or grow closer together.”

I glance up at his face and see that he’s gazing up at the ceiling. He may not look it, but I’m convinced he’s listening to me and that he’s remembering the old days where Griffin read those to him.

“And now you’re gone,” I continue, his eyes close slowly. “and I’m here, wondering if letting you go was the right thing to do.” I breathe slowly, trying not to make reading these poems to let me cry. I don’t want to make Ash sad by reading these to him, I want him to be stimulated to remember.

I clear my throat. “I just hope that somewhere, in some other thread of time, you’re doing okay.”

I sure hope so, I think to myself; I want Ash to be okay, but not in another thread of time, but in this one. I want him to be by my side and bug me about being too small for my age and annoy me by making my job tough; I don’t want him to be like this, so silent, so distant—so not Ash.

“So, in the meantime, I’ll be thinking of you and—“ My voice breaks; I let the poetry get to me too much, I don’t know how I thought I would be able to read at least a few to him each day. “and I will be missing you. And I will hope that some way, somehow, you’d find the inspiration need to find your way back home.” To me, I want to add, but I don’t; it’s not part of the poem, so it might throw him off if I start adding things. But I want, I need, Ash to find his way back to me.

Chapter Text

Eiji Okumura

13 Oct. 2018

Weeks filled with wiping drool, muscle stretches, crème, catheters and bed baths go by. Every day seems to hurt a little more, even though the things I do to “treat” Ash are getting easier; I’m well-aware that the longer Ash stays mostly non-responsive, the bigger the change we’ll have to eventually let him rest at a much-too-young age.

This week will be the last week Max will give me time to try out the treatment. And even though I know for a fact that I should be able to lengthen someone’s lifespan if they just got B1, I don’t know if it’s going to bring someone back when they’re as far gone as Ash; which hurts.

That’s why, today, I’m sitting on the floor of Ash’s hospital room. Not with Ash, but with Griffin’s urn, praying. I never pray, but I’m now just sitting here praying in silence.

Please, Griffin, if you hear me—I say in my head, begging Ash older brother without Ash having to hear my prayers without being able to do something about it. – please, if you see Ash around in between the land of the dead and the living, don’t let him cross yet. Let him stay with me a little longer and I will promise to take good care of him. I will promise he can live a fulfilling life before he joins you on the other side, okay? I press my hands together firmly, closing my eyes. Please!

When I hear a groan beside me, I know my day has started; I don’t have time anymore to sit here and pray for a miracle to happen. As soon as Ash wakes up from his nightmarish dreams, my day begins.

“Morning!” I tell him with a bright smile; but it’s all fake. I’m smiling, but breaking on the inside.

Ash’s green eyes don’t even look at me when I talk to him. I wonder if he can even hear me, or that he has slipped away so much that he doesn’t even have any awareness anymore.

I still talk a lot to him, though, when I change his clothes and give him another bed bath. I don’t stay silent when I take him out for a daily walk and I don’t let my smile falter in the moments that I have to sooth him during a seizure or a moment of intense pain.

All because I know that when I let myself give in to the pain, Ash will only get worse.

I don’t want him to get worse, I want him to get better; that’s all I need in my life right now. To have a night filled with sleep, with peace, because I know that the real Ash is with us again.

Though it doesn’t seem to be the case today; hours go by like usual, most of which Ash sleeps through, and when we reach dinnertime nothing seems to have changed from this morning.

“I’ve got your formula ready,” I tell Ash when I enter the room with everything for his dinner. It’s not even the last feeding he’ll need today, I wish my day would be over when he goes to sleep after dinner, but that’s really where it starts.

His seizures tend to get worse overnight, and there have been nights where he wakes up from a nightmare and slips right into one for at least twice; it hurts to see him like this, especially after I found out that Griffin passed away because of a seizure. I don’t want that to happen to Ash.

“I hope you’re hungry.” I hook him up to the pump and glance at him. He’s looking in my direction, and it might just be my imagination, but he looks a little sad; usually he’s completely emotionless.

“D-Did I do something wrong?” I ask him, but I obviously don’t get any response from him. Before I know it his face goes to its blank self again. And I go back to doing the things I have to do to get him ready for the night, but the sadness in his eyes keeps lingering in my mind.

A knock on the door startles me, while usually I wouldn’t even be bothered by it; I’m not focussed on what I’m supposed to be working on.

“Hey,” Shorter mutters as he wanders into the room; he’s been doing that more often lately, just strolling into the room at random times. It’s because he doesn’t have a reason to be in Ash’s room anymore now that he’s not living on solid food anymore.

“Hi,” I reply softly, glancing at the young guy’s sad gaze in Ash direction. Seeing Ash like this doesn’t just hurt me, it hurts everyone who knows Ash like he was, so that includes Shorter.

Shorter is good at hiding his pain though, and most of the time I feel like he’s just pretending that Ash is really like he used to be deep down; that isn’t something I’m able to do.

“Ah, you’re getting dinner, aren’t you?” Shorter asks Ash while walking towards his bed. “I hope it fills you up nicely, because I take you’re going to take a nap soon?” Shorter glances at me, I nod.

“He’s been up almost the entire afternoon,” I explain, because Ash only had a one-hour nap after lunch, while normally he sleeps at least three hours.

Shorter turns back to Ash. “Damn! You must be exhausted then!”

Ash lets out a moan, almost as if answering, but we all know that would be ridiculous since he’s in an awful state like this. But it still makes me happy somehow, because it feels like he is replying.

“That’s what I thought,” Shorter replies, smiling sadly just like me. “I won’t stay for long then, I just wanted to drop in and say “hi”.” Shorter pats Ash’s head before turning to me. “That’s all.”

I nod and smile. “I think he’s really happy you did that.” I really think that’s true, Ash always seems a little happier after someone spoke to him; whether it’s me or Shorter or Max, he likes the attention.

And that’s what happens this time too. After Shorter leaves, it’s like Ash has a boost of energy; I don’t know how I notice it, really, but I just feel it in how he is.

He giggles, once, when I’m smearing some greasy crème onto his cheeks; he really loves it when I do that. With his slurred giggle, I catch myself laughing too. “You’re funny,” I tell him, tousling his hair.

I sit down beside his bed after tucking him in; no matter how energetic he is now, it’s time for sleep.

“Since you’re so up and awake,” I tell Ash, reaching for the book lying on his bedside table. “I think you’ll like a short poem?” I still read him poems daily, because I feel like he likes them.

I take Ash’s hand in mine and softly read the first line of today’s poem. “I get you, you don’t know how you feel—“ It’s one I’ve never read to Ash before, but it rolls off the tongue perfectly.

Ash’s eyes open, and the corners of his mouth turn upwards just so slightly. I didn't know Ash had a strong connection to this poem, but he must’ve, because he’s listening so intensely.

Maybe we’ve reached the one poem he was waiting to hear.

I smile, squeezing his hand gently and whisper, “Well, I will tell you this—“ I clear my throat, the way Ash’s eyes are looking straight at me, it does something to my heart; making it beat so quickly, so cheerfully but sad at the same time. “the world doesn’t make much sense without—“

My voice gets caught in my throat when tears well up in his eyes. “Without the people you love.”

A tear seeps down Ash’s cheek and his mouth opens as if he wants to tell me something, but he can only sob. I don’t know what’s making him to react this way, but this is a genuine reaction.

“Ash,” I whisper, wiping away his tears. “It’s okay, you don’t have to cry.”

He lets out another sob, and tears keep on flowing over his cheeks.

I know the fact that Ash is crying is sad, but somehow I’m smiling through the tears that well up in my own eyes; so much emotion, so much reaction, it can only mean one thing.

The treatment is working.

Ash may be coming back home to me.

Chapter Text

Eiji Okumura

5 Jul. 2021

Sayōnara America, that’s the thing I think to myself as I watch the clouds passing me. I’m on a plane, heading back to Japan after three years of being on an emotional rollercoaster.

After the first time Ash started improving, it didn’t actually get easier; he had severe brain damage, and we knew he wouldn’t be able to go back to who he used to be completely. But he survived, and his condition was improving with every day that went by. That was enough for everyone.

He changed an awful lot, but who wouldn’t change after their life’s almost ripped away from them. He didn’t change for the worse though. If anything, Ash became more loving, more open, more determined to heal; he poured every single part of himself into physical therapy, brain stimulating games and he healed for some parts. He learned to move a little and he poured so much time and energy in his healing his brain function that his memory’s a lot more stable than it used to be.

Even though, overtime, his condition grew more stable, we all know he will relapse some day.

That’s why, a month ago, I got us plane tickets so I could finally keep the promise I made to him; I would take him to Japan. After three years of working hard and dealing with the worst types of heartbreaks, Ash was finally doing well enough to be allowed out of the hospital, if supervised by me, for a week. That’s exactly enough time for me to do what I have been wanting to do for months.

I glance from the rushing clouds to Ash; he’s been carefully placed in one of the chairs, but I can see he’s not sitting as comfortably as in his wheelchair. He’s wincing and wrinkling his nose more than usually, so he’s either in pain or he’s just nervous about going to Japan with me.

“Do you need something?” I ask Ash, when I see his fingers tucking at the tight strap that’s keeping him in place. “Is it too tight?”

His green eyes glance at me and he whispers, “Y-Yes.”

We’ve gotten on the plane hours ago, but I tightened his belt just a couple of minutes ago because he was sliding out of the chair. Apparently it was too tight, and since he never managed to learn to talk fully and properly again, he probably just didn’t know how to tell me; that’s why I asked.

I smile and tell him that’s okay. “I’ll just make it a little looser.” I do exactly that, loosening up the strap just a little bit, so he isn’t being squished into the chair anymore.

He gives me a smile to thank me; that’s something he would’ve never done when we just met three years ago. He would’ve yelled at me for trying to help him, but through the years he’s grown accustomed to needing help sometimes, especially since he’s sadly become mostly depended of me.

“Just try to tap me on the arm when you need anything, okay?” I tell Ash, he nods and I add. “We’re almost there.” Only one more hour to go until we reach my home country.

I haven’t visited my family once, I didn’t want to disappear from Ash’s side, even after he accepted Max’s help too. I feel like I’m destined to be by his side until fate won’t let us anymore.

When we start landing, not long after I loosened up Ash’s seatbelt, his hand suddenly rests on mine. It must’ve taken him so much effort to do so, so something must be going on.

I turn to Ash to see him getting all flustered.

“Is something the matter?” I ask him, getting slightly worried about the fact that his cheeks are so red; he doesn’t have a fever, does he? That’ll mean I’ll have to cancel all plans I had planned for this afternoon. It would mean everything I’ve been working towards will have to wait even longer.

Ash shakes his head, telling me “no”, before glancing down at our hands and smiling. “I just wanted to hold—“ His voice trails off, as it’s too weak to hold up for long, but I know what he means.

I wrap my hand around his and smile softly.

“I love holding your hand too,” I tell him, taking his hand to my mouth to carefully kiss it.

When I’ve lowered it again, and the butterflies of going down back to the earth, I whisper, “Aren’t you a little nervous?” I stay silent, and add, “I sure am.”

“Yeah,” Ash softly replies, his hand squeezing mine; he’s just as nervous as I am, but I’m convinced it’s for completely different reasons. He’s nervous about visiting Japan with me, a whole new world will be opening up for him, someone who’s lived inside of four white walls for most of his life.

But me? I’m not at all nervous about visiting my country, and Ash’s condition is stable enough that I trust that nothing bad will happen during our short week of vacation-time. It’s something much bigger, much more real, which makes my heart race at an inhuman pace.

It gets even worse when we’ve landed and I wheel Ash through the narrow alleys of the airfield. It was a miracle that we could even go, but I booked at ticket as soon as the planes started going again.

We soon reach the outside which, even though it’s hot outside, is much nicer than being inside.

“Wow!” Ash whispers when we walk underneath trees with beautiful blossoms. Even though it’s not the best time to see the cherry blossoms, it’s still wonderful to see the streets filled with the pink flowers; the perfect time to be here with my boyfriend.

“It’s pretty, right?” I ask Ash as I wheel him into a small nature park near the airport. I looked everything up and made sure this wasn’t a place too busy, before deciding that this would be a wonderful place to head right after we landed. It’s green and pink and there’s a little lake just as in Central Park, looking a lot like the place where we first kissed.

“Is this a good place to sit?” I ask Ash; I told him we would be spending our first day at the park. Just doing some games, holding a tiny picnic with some food he can actually eat.

I brought everything we need, but what Ash doesn’t know is that I brought a little extra; something excited that I haven’t told him about. Actually, I haven’t told anyone about it, not even my parents.

I put his wheelchair on the brakes underneath one of the threes, after he nods agreeing.

“It’s perfect,” he tells me as I lay down the plaid picnic blanket I brought.

“It is,” I agree with him. I take the food out of my backpack and start to set everything down for the little dinner I planned for Ash and me; so much preparation went into this, but I suddenly feel my hands shaking more than ever before. Especially when my fingers touch the little box Ash knows nothing about, my heart starts racing so badly and I feel like I’m about to faint.

I get on my feet, clenching the little box in my sweaty hands. As I walk over to Ash, I shove the jewel box in my pocket and pretend I have nothing with me.

“Do you want to sit down on the blanket with me?” I ask Ash, because this is exactly why I chose a spot so close to a tree. Picnicking is much more fun and romantic when he can sit right beside me.

Ash nods and he smiles wide, probably because it’s something he doesn’t get to do a lot.

I carefully transfer him from his wheelchair to the blanket, making sure he’s balanced against the tree nicely before I take a deep breath; it’s now or never.

I balance on one knee, right in front of Ash, and take the little box from my pocket. Right at the same time that my eyes meet his, I open the box up and present a small ring to him.

“Sayōnara America. Sayōnara New York. But I won’t say Sayōnara to you, Ash,” I swallow, looking into his eyes, saying the words I practiced in front of the mirror over and over again. “Because I want you by my side—“ My hands are shaking, tears are welling up in my eyes as I whisper, “Forever.”

Ash mouth opens carefully and tears stream down his cheeks as he slowly starts to realize what’s happening; he’s not the only one, even I am still trying to process that I’m really doing this.

“Ash—“ I smile through my tears, Ash is doing the same. “Will you marry me?”

He needs no time to think, before throwing all his weight into my arms, telling me, “Yes!”