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Chapter One
Saki Focus
Soft sunset light trickled through the window, glittering in vibrant ruby eyes. Crimson eyes that have seen the happiest of things, but held a sad sense of longing. Bright red eyes attached to a young, blonde girl who regarded this hospital as her home.
For such a beautiful sunset, there was no sound to accompany it. Only the soft tick of the office clock on the dreary white wall, a wall that Saki Tenma had done her best to liven up. Messy drawings of her and her best friends dotted the wall; some of the band they once had, some of the stargazing they used to do, and some of the dreams they all held.
A few photographs of her brother, and the successful theater troupe he led, also lived among the wall. But even the happiest of memories couldn't brighten the stagnant, cold hospital rooms. Rooms that, in her condition, she knew all too well.
The sunrises and sunsets were the most beautiful times of the day, and she made sure to see them all.
She watched the warm light slowly fade beyond the rolling hills and towering buildings, like the last ray of hope being extinguished within her heart, letting out a soft sigh as a knock sounded at her door.
“Come in.” Her voice was weaker than she remembered it last; thinner, sadder.
The door creaked open to a flash of purple hair, a soft wavy ponytail and big twilight eyes. Frail hands delicately gripped the door as it was pushed open, the unwelcome screech of a metal rolling cart being pushed along the tile.
Saki chose to ignore the cart and regarded the young girl instead, her eyes lighting up. “Asahina!”
“Hello, Tenma-san,” She smiled, taking a seat on the edge of Saki’s bed. She noted the warning glare towards the metal cart and softly laughed, “It isn’t your medicine time, yet. Don’t worry.”
Saki’s eyes narrowed and widened as her focus shifted. “What are you doing here?”
Mafuyu shifted, her eyes darting to a silver tray atop the cart, covered with a long sheet of foil. “My mom pulled some strings… she wants me to have real hospital experience before becoming a doctor, so they agreed to take me on as an assistant nurse.”
“Asahina! That’s amazing!” Saki yelled, always the excitable one despite her own condition. But even so, the sparkle in her eyes was real and her smile was genuine.
“It is,” Mafuyu’s eyes brightened, if only for a second. “It will be difficult to juggle along with my schooling, but I’ll be around a bit more. Now, as one of your nurses, I have to ask. How are things?”
Saki’s smile faded, and she turned her gaze back to the window. “Asahina, can I ask you something?”
“Of course.”
“Do you ever wish you were a butterfly?”
“A butterfly?” Mafuyu paused, lifting a delicate finger to her chin to think. “I don’t think I’ve ever thought about it, though I imagine being a butterfly would be quite nice.”
“It would, wouldn't it?” Saki sighed, her pale hands fidgeting with the bedsheets. “Butterflies have no worries or cares, they can just fly around looking pretty. Bringing joy to anyone who sees them.”
Mafuyu nodded, smiling lightly. “Butterflies are very pretty.”
“Butterflies can start over.”
Mafuyu paused. “What do you mean?”
Saki turned, looking into those twilight eyes. “When a caterpillar hatches from the cocoon… they’re reborn as a butterfly. They get another chance… to be better, to be whatever they want to be.”
“You can still be whatever you want to be, Tenma-san.” Mafuyu murmured, reaching for Saki’s hands.
“You know that's not true.” She murmured.
“Butterflies suffer hardships of their own.”
Saki’s gaze raised to hers, her ruby eyes glassy. “Really?”
Mafuyu nodded. “Butterflies have to go through a lot to get to the beautiful state we see them in. They’re not just pretty to look at, butterflies signify strength.”
“Strength…” Saki murmured, her resolve firming in her eyes. Their usual sparkle disappeared with the last stretch of sunset light, and she almost saw a new world outside her window. One with a bright blue starlit sky and complete peace. Tranquility. Her happy place.
Noting the approaching darkness, Mafuyu turned towards the metal cart. “Speaking of butterflies, I brought something for you.”
Saki watched intently as the layer of foil was pulled back to reveal a perfect plate of butterfly shaped cookies. In varying frosted colors from yellow to pink to blue, all with a layer of shimmering sprinkles across the wings, they were the cutest cookies she had ever seen.
“Oh my gosh, Asahina! These are adorable!” Saki squealed, reaching for a yellow cookie.
“I brought them because, well, butterflies are a cute shape, and I wanted to offer a small ‘I’m your nurse now!’ gift, but I’m sure these have a more special meaning to you now.”
Saki softly sniffled, taking small bites of her treat.
Mafuyu reached for her free hand. “Let the butterflies give you strength, Tenma-san. I’ve seen the way you can push through, whether it be at school or otherwise. You’re stronger than you know.”
“Thank you, Asahina.” Saki smiled. She would try, even if things were spiraling, and no one could know.
Even if she had less than likely odds of making it out of this hospital.
She would smile, and she would try, for the butterflies.
Chapter Two
Akito Focus
Akito Shinonome felt out of place. His best friend and singing partner, Toya Aoyagi, was the only person keeping him grounded in this dreary hospital, even as he could hear every tap from his shoes across the tile flooring. The endless white walls between hallways seemed to close in on him, and he had to clear his mind to keep a level head.
As he stuffed his idle hands into the front pocket of his sweatshirt, he recalled why he was here to begin with, and was counting the minutes until he could leave.
“Oh hell no.”
“Why not?” Toya sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with two fingers. “It’s like an hour.”
“Why would I go with you to a hospital?” Akito scoffed, kicking his foot into the dirt of their practice spot. “You usually go alone just fine.”
“So it’s illegal for me to want company?” Toya asked.
“Why me? Bring An or Kohane with you.”
Toya took a second to dramatically look around at their empty surroundings. Even the afternoon breeze momentarily stopped, all in an effort to mock the man. The silence was deafening.
“Please,” Toya pleaded. “Just this once.”
Akito sighed. “Fine, but you owe me.”
Toya’s resulting smile was bright enough to blind. “Anything.”
His eyes lit up. “Pancakes?”
“Yes, Akito,” Toya chuckled. “Pancakes.”
Damn this guy.
“Are we almost there?” He huffed, running a hand through his bright orange hair.
Toya abruptly stopped in a small clearing, and Akito ran flat into his back.
“Motherfucker…” He murmured, stumbling back.
“Actually, we are here.” Toya said, walking up to a small receptionist’s desk.
A young girl sat behind a computer screen with a determined look on her face. Her dark purple hair was draped over her shoulder in a high ponytail and her blue-purple eyes were narrowed towards the screen. Hearing Toya approach, she tore her gaze from the screen and her face lit up.
“Aoyagi-san! It’s been a while.” Mafuyu smiled at the dual-toned blue haired boy.
Toya chuckled, his own smile mirroring hers. “You can drop the real formalities, Asahina.”
Mafuyu raised an eyebrow. “I’m always formal. I’m also at work.”
“Very well. Where is Saki’s room?”
“Ah, Tenma-san!” Mafuyu turned back to her screen, tapping a few keys on her keyboard. “Just checking you in for visiting day! She’s in room 59, at the very far end of the corridor, to the left.”
“Thank you, Asahina.” Toya smiled and strode past the desk, starting down the long hallway. Akito couldn’t help but notice Mafuyu stealing small glances at Toya before returning to her work, and he hurried his pace to catch up to his friend.
The building seemed to get quieter, and somehow even drearier as they walked the endless expanse of hallway, finally stopping at the final wooden door. The door sported a small window but it was so blurry, seeing anything inside was an impossible feat.
Toya softly knocked on the door.
A light “Come in!” rang from inside, a sweet sing-songy voice with a layer of strain, a layer of weakness to it. As if she’d been suffering, locked up for just a little too long.
Toya glanced at Akito, his silver eyes glassy and lined with worry, before slowly pushing the door open.
The room was as he expected—gloomy and white. Saki had tried to brighten a wall with drawings and photographs, but it was the only wall of the room that had been touched. Personalized. A small string of faerie lights hung just around her bed before dropping, as if the rest had fallen over time. Or hadn’t even been strung up to begin with.
Saki sat in her bed, her back against the wall as she toiled over sheets upon sheets of paper. Though the hospital bedding was bland, she had a fluffy pink blanket that dominated the space, although covered in paper at the moment. Her long blonde hair fell in wavy pigtails over her shoulders, bright pink ends matching her blanket, but it was her eyes that Akito noticed.
Vibrant, bright ruby red eyes, with just enough sparkle left within them to spark and inspire hope.
Those bright crimson eyes lit up upon seeing Toya enter, and filled with piqued curiosity upon seeing Akito behind him.
“Toya!” She smiled, pushing her stacks of paper onto a nearby nightstand.
“Hey Saki,” Toya reached forward to gently hug her. She looked small and frail compared to him, but the light of her smile still remained. “How are you?”
Her expression shuttered for just a second, something most people wouldn’t catch, but Akito did. Her perfect mask slid back into place as she smiled. “Things are going.”
Akito got the distinct feeling that things were not going, but that wasn’t his business to worry about. He was here as Toya’s company, and because he was promised pancakes. No strings attached. Except… it’s never that easy, is it?
There was something about the girl that piqued Akito’s curiosity, and he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. It felt as if every fiber of his being was trying to reach for her, to help her.
Toya’s smile wavered for a moment as he tried to reassure her, telling her things would be alright, but that didn’t seem to be what she wanted to hear. She seemed distant—as if her consciousness was somewhere far, far away. Somewhere far happier than an old hospital room. And as she spoke softly about her days, Akito couldn’t help but notice the papers she’d cast aside.
The papers were covered in little butterflies.
Chapter Three
Saki Focus
Saki had just barely finished her morning routine before it hit. The sudden weakness, the extreme pain. It was an immense effort to cross the room to her bed, her knees barely brushing the blanket before buckling. She silently cursed as she fumbled for the painkillers on her nightstand, trembling fingers struggling to twist off the cap.
The flare-ups were getting worse. She normally had enough of a grip on them that she could hide the effects, and slip her perfect mask into place while she sorted herself out, but that was no longer the case. Her emotions were as clear as day on her face, and anyone walking in could see the spiral.
She was so focused on controlling her heavy breathing, and steadying her racing heart that she didn’t hear the soft knock on her room door. She didn’t even hear the turn of the knob, or the footsteps that followed. She felt like she was drowning in waves, lost in the endless expanse of the sea, only to be abruptly yanked to the surface by a dark figure with a flash of orange hair.
“Hey,” Akito waved his hand in front of her eyes, “You in there?”
Saki blinked, snapping out of her trance before jumping back. “You…!”
He just blinked at her, sitting softly on the edge of her bed. She took the time to truly look at him, a privilege she didn’t get with Toya’s presence the day before. Bright orange hair with a lone yellow streak framed his face, stony eyes of olive looked her up and down as if checking for injury, while baggy sweatshirts and pants hid his build from the world. He had some bright basketball shoes, which she thought were utterly ridiculous, but she appreciated the pop of color in comparison to her dull hospital gown.
“How did you…” She started, narrowing her eyes at him. “How did you get in here? It isn't a visiting day anymore.”
He looked away abruptly, whether from shame or embarrassment she couldn’t tell. “I mean anyone can walk right into this place, really…”
Saki nodded, her shoulders loosening slightly. Talking, she found, helped with the pain, however slightly. “Okay, let me rephrase, then. Why are you here?”
He just sat in his spot on the bed, looking quite funny in contrast with the pink blanket, and stared at his hands. Debating. Contemplating. As if he didn’t have an answer, he was just… there.
“I don’t know.” He said at last, his voice soft, barely audible.
Utterly confused, but not wanting to hurt the guy, Saki spoke from her heart. “Well… I appreciate the company.”
He paused, not expecting that answer. “Really?”
“Yeah,” Saki smiled. “This place gets so lonely, especially on the days they don’t allow visitors. It’s just me, my drawings, my laptop I can’t ever be bothered to charge, and my butterf-” She stopped herself suddenly, her head dropping.
“The butterflies?”
Her head snapped up, searching those cold olive eyes for any sign of mockery, but all she found was curiosity. A flicker of actual emotion in those eyes that she suspected didn’t give away much.
“How do you know about-” She followed his eyes to the discarded papers of small sketched butterflies on the nightstand. Butterflies of all styles, with every allotment of detail she could dream of, filled each and every page. “Oh…”
“They’re… very good,” He cleared his throat, holding a fist to the front of his mouth. “What’s the deal with them? ‘You just like them?”
“Ah…” Saki mumbled, debating how much of her soul she should give to this boy. This boy that she didn’t know, and this boy that didn’t know her, but she had nothing to lose. “They, uh, signify strength. The will to… keep fighting, so I can see a better tomorrow.”
Something flashed in those cold, olive eyes. Something warm, something akin to understanding that Saki couldn’t quite grasp before it was gone.
“I like that.” He whispered, staring at his hands, his gaze occasionally drifting to the butterflies. Saki didn’t know this boy, had barely learned his name the day before, and yet she could feel that he’d suffered. Maybe not in the same way that she had, but there was a bond between the two of them that linked their wills to fight, to get better.
“You look like you have a story to tell.” Saki mused, fueled by a sudden burst of bold adrenaline.
He smiled lightly, almost to himself as he kept his gaze low. “Maybe not a butterfly story, but I have my own share of things I need to fight for. A possibility… a future I need to see.”
Saki folded her arms around her knees as she waited, silently waiting for him to continue. She had nothing but time anyway. He lifted his gaze to hers, those olive eyes meeting her curious ruby ones as she wondered what this boy has gone through. The air seemed to crackle as she searched his eyes for a sliver of his story, and pondered how much of her own story her eyes gave away.
“That may have to be a story for another day.” His tone was dark, almost sad, but Saki didn’t miss the light grin that slipped out. Another day. He wanted to come back.
“Another day, huh?” Saki joked, though her frail fingers nervously fiddled with the stiff bedsheets. One more day probably wasn’t anything to him, but to her… she could use someone. Anyone.
“Is that okay? If I come back?” He asked as he stood, trying to hide the slight waver in his voice.
Saki’s thoughts scattered. She wanted to scream ‘Yes! Of course!’ From the rooftops. Anything to have someone, anyone, fill her otherwise empty days with a little bit of light. But she settled for what she thought was cool, calm, collected.
“Sure, I’d like that.”
He smiled, and if she could read him right, he looked almost relieved. He started for the door, and a sliver of Saki’s train of thought returned.
“Hey, wait!”
He turned, raising an eyebrow in a silent question.
“Your name… my mind isn’t great these days.” She chuckled, hoping to hide the layers of pain in that sentence.
He paused, thinking, his expression unreadable before simply saying “Akito.” He was gone after that, out the door before Saki could ask for a surname.
Chapter Four
Akito Focus
His legs moved of their own accord. They did with the first impromptu visit just days ago, when he’d walked to the hospital just to see this girl he didn’t know, with no reasoning planned if she questioned him, which she obviously did.
And as if he never learned a lesson in his life, his legs continued to carry him down the familiar path to the hospital. Up familiar stairways and down familiar hallways. He had no plan, he never did, he just let his legs take him right up to that wooden door.
He knocked softly, waiting for her soft voice to ring out. He went over his mental to-do list; he had practice with his street music group later tonight, and he had a stack of homework awaiting him back at home, but the thought of doing anything just wasn’t appealing to him.
He heard Saki call out from within the room and he slowly pushed the door open. Saki Tenma, this girl with some unknown connection to Toya had consumed his entire being since the first meeting, and he couldn’t figure out why. Perhaps it was the shared feeling of having to fight, to work hard to see the futures they wanted. Or it could be a mutual fascination between the two, leading such different lives.
He’d noticed his new affinity for butterflies. He saw them more often, noted their symbolism and significance. He thought of the clear pain in Saki’s eyes whenever he saw a butterfly, a pain he wished he could ease, or take away completely. The pain he continued to see, even as her eyes brightened as he entered the room.
“How do they keep letting you in here?” She giggled. A small smile, a good start.
“They don’t let me in, I just walk past them.” Akito winked, moving to take his spot on the edge of her bed. He’d come right from school, and he dropped his bag on the floor as he glanced back at Saki, who had frozen in place. “Hey, you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.” She murmured, shaking her head out of whatever trance she was in. She seemed content to pick up right where they left off as she asked “Do I get to hear about your story now?”
He grinned. “Well I suppose, if you’re so eag-”
Saki shot up in her bed, bringing a finger to her lips. “Shhh…”
She turned an ear towards her door, her eyes widening. “My nurse is coming in. You have to hide.”
“Hide?” He asked, bewildered.
Saki frantically looked around the room, her eyes settling on a small wooden closet made just to hold her extra belongings. “In.”
“I will NOT fit in-”
“In!” She pushed, shooing him away with a delicate hand.
“Fine.” He huffed, opening the door and squeezing himself inside the cramped space. He had barely shut the closet door, almost—there was a small enough gap for him to see through—when Saki’s door opened and an obnoxiously loud metal cart was pushed inside. Her nurse had bright purple hair and unique twilight eyes, someone he recognized as Mafuyu Asahina from the first visit with Toya.
“Asahina!” Saki’s voice was cheerful, though he could tell she was trying to hide her annoyance.
“Good afternoon, Tenma-san,” Mafuyu smiled. “I’ve brought your medicine, and a few more butterfly cookies.”
Saki’s eyes lit up. “Asahina, you shouldn’t have!”
She took one of the small medicine containers, twisting off the cap with no small amount of difficulty, and smiled to herself. “They’re even making the capsules into small butterflies now…”
“The staff has noted your liking for them,” Mafuyu grinned. “If it means you’ll take your medicine, they have no issue with a few shapes.”
Saki giggled, setting the container back onto the tray.
“That being said,” Mafuyu started, her expression dropping. Akito felt bad about listening to what seemed to be a serious conversation, and he hoped his bright orange hair didn’t give him away through the gap. “Your medicine schedule is all wrong. You haven’t been taking anything, have you, Tenma-san?”
Saki said nothing, wrapping her arms around her knees. She seemed to be trying to make herself smaller, as small and unnoticeable as she could.
“You need to fight,” Mafuyu said with a small sigh. “We’re all rooting for you. Between us, the staff are even working on something big for you.”
Saki’s eyes widened, curiosity glittering in those rubies.
“You need to be here to see it, Tenma-san.” Mafuyu smiled. “You can do it.”
“Alright.” Saki murmured, mostly into her blanket. Her blonde hair fell in loose waves across the pink material as she regarded Mafuyu with the last bit of sparkle in her gaze.
“Okay, I’ll leave you be,” Mafuyu said, giving Saki’s hand a reassuring squeeze. “By the way… has anyone… come in here recently?”
Saki froze, her expression immediately giving her away as Akito silently swore within the closet. But even still, she faced Mafuyu and said “No, why?”
“I guess someone has been slipping past our desks for visits recently. It probably won’t affect you, but let us know if you see anything, alright?”
“Of course,” Saki smiled, waving to Mafuyu as she took her leave. As the door shut, Akito pushed the closet door open and tumbled out, taking deep breaths.
“I don’t like the closet.” He chuckled quietly, grasping his chest for air.
Saki tried, to her credit, but ultimately failed to hold in her laughter.
Chapter Five
Saki Focus
So it turned out that beneath the baggy layers of clothing, Akito had quite the build, and that closet was MUCH too small for him.
“You’re a wanted criminal now,” Saki giggled as he sat back on the edge of her bed. Her gaze caught on the bag he had dropped, the bag that was in clear view of anyone who walked in, and Mafuyu certainly wouldn’t have missed, and she gasped. “Are you… going to leave now?”
His gaze was also fixed on his bag, his expression unreadable. “...No. I’m not.” He murmured.
Saki just stared at him, blinking. Fighting to keep her voice low, she asked “Why risk yourself for me?”
Deep down, she knew he wouldn’t have an answer. She didn’t have her own answer for the tug between the two of them, the internal need for him to stay. She understood completely as he shook his head, fighting to find words that weren’t there, getting outwardly frustrated at his fumbling.
“It’s okay,” She finally whispered, causing his gaze to lift and catch her own. “Tell me your story.”
He nodded. “I’m part of a music group.”
She felt that growing bond tug impossibly tighter. “Music?”
He smiled. “My life’s work, everything I’ve ever wanted. I sing with Toya in a group called Vivid BAD SQUAD, and we have two other members, Kohane and An.”
Saki smiled, as recognition flitted through her eyes. “Ah, you’re the singing partner Toya’s always talking about. I can see the appeal.”
He tried to hide his flush but ultimately failed, resulting in him curling inwards and covering the flush with his hoodie sleeves. “Ahem… but yeah. Music is… everything I’ve worked toward. We’re going to stand on top of the world one day, and I need to fight to make that happen. To see that day.”
Saki recalled her childhood, her friends that no longer visited her, who she used to have a band with. Shiho and Ichika, who were so serious about their progress and performances. Honami and herself, who just loved to see their friends together, doing what they loved to do. She understood the want, the need, to push yourself forward. To see the best possible future.
And because she couldn’t push herself any further, she wanted to help push him.
“Tell me about them.” She murmured, resting her head on her shoulders as she listened.
His shoulders loosened bit by bit as he talked, as if he were slowly lowering the iron gates around his being, who he is. “Well, Toya, you’ve met Toya. He was my first singing partner. We’ve taught each other so much, and he looks out for me in ways I couldn’t begin to describe. An… she was also there, that legendary night. The event we’ve worked to try and surpass. We started from our shared dream, and have only shot up ever since. Kohane, she’s improved faster than I’ve ever seen, especially from someone newer to the scene. I think she’s a vital asset to the group, someone we need, and she doesn’t even realize it.”
Saki nodded, committing names to memory and imagining how they might look. How these people are important to him, how they support him. “I’m glad you have them. This passion that keeps you going.”
He searched her eyes for something, what exactly, she wasn’t sure. “What about you?”
“I used to,” She mused, her gaze drifting out the window. Golden sunset light painted her face and eyes as she sighed, lost in thought. “My friends, we had a band. We practiced every moment we could, two of us striving for results and success, the other two enjoying the company and time we had together. It was fun, but… life happens.”
“Would you… go back to them if you could?” He murmured.
“In a heartbeat.”
“Then you have something to fight for.”
Saki’s gaze flicked back to him. The vibrant sunset light highlighted his jaw and brightened his orange hair even further. He was the picture of a softer kind of devastation, and she had to fight to keep eye contact. “You don’t know that. They don’t even visit anymore.”
His shoulders sagged, and his eyes flashed. He almost looked angry, pissed off at who knows what. “Then… fight for me, and my dream.”
Saki raised an eyebrow, even as a slight smirk tilted the corners of her lips. “I suppose I would like to see you stand on top of the world one day.”
He stiffened, unexpecting of the sudden sentiment, but challenge glittered in his olive eyes. “And I hope you can be there for me when I do.”
She couldn’t help but smile, even as her tender heart cracked in two. There remained the side that thought it all too easy to give up this fight, let her condition take over and ease her into a restful sleep. But the other side, the more prominent side, was full of a newfound ambition. A newer appreciation for the time she had, and it pulsed in a bright orange.
How Toya hid such a soul from her for her entire life, she had no idea.
“Maybe I will.” She smiled brighter still, feeling utterly at peace for the first time in what seemed like months.
He grinned as he stood, grabbing his backpack. “I should probably head out before they come to interrogate you again.”
Saki bit her lip in thought before reaching out for him. “Hey, wait.”
He raised an eyebrow, urging her to go on.
“Can I… do something? Real quick?”
He slowly nodded, walking closer to where she sat near the edge of the bed. She grabbed a pen from her nightstand, her favorite black glitter pen that sat atop her stacks of paper, and reached for his forearm. Her gaze lifted to his own in a silent question as he connected the dots in his head, and he nodded once more.
She held his forearm up, her grip so soft and delicate around his wrist as she began to draw on him. Small little lines of cold ink that tickled every nerve in his arm, but he did his best to stand still as she worked. Her brows furrowed as she focused, connecting each line with precision until she finally blew out a small breath to dry the ink, and sat back on her heels.
There, in the center of his forearm just below his wrist, was a perfect glittering butterfly. She’d added details within the wings to suggest a glassy mosaic membrane, but the rest of the build was almost cartoon-like in its cuteness. She’d even added a small bow to the head.
“Now you can think of me whenever you see it!” She grinned.
Though with the way he softly smiled at her antics, and took special care not to smear the ink as he got up and left for the night, she thought that he just may have been thinking of her anyways.
Chapter Six
Akito Focus
Akito couldn’t bear to wash the butterfly off. In fact, it wouldn’t be a stretch to say he spent the entire night looking at it, smiling softly to himself. He showed up to practice the next day completely exhausted, his legs refusing to carry him the same way they do to see Saki.
“You look dead, dude.” An laughed, playfully punching him in the shoulder. He just grumbled, shoving her off and stalking away, but he couldn’t hide the smile on his face.
The group kicked off their practice, their Virtual Singer coaches eagerly watching from their seats within the Crase Cafe in SEKAI, and Akito used what remained of his energy to sing harder than he ever had. He was going to be the best, he was going to stand on top of the world, and he was going to have someone with him when he did. He wasn’t pushing himself to the brink for his own ego anymore, he had a true supporter that was there to cheer him on, and catch him when he fell.
The group noticed his effort, the increased tempo, and picked up the pace themselves as well. They reached new personal bests, and achieved arguably the best practice they’d had yet. They were drenched in sweat by the end, but the effort was worthwhile. Every few minutes, Akito’s sweatshirt sleeve would fall, slightly exposing the corner of Saki’s butterfly. And each time, the sight drove him further, pushed him harder as he remembered the sound of her laughter.
The Virtual Singer coaches each offered their praise and insights, working with each member individually, but Akito was still running on adrenaline. He took a quick breather, jogging outside of the cafe and around the back of the building. There he found Toya smiling like an idiot at his phone, which was made even more suspicious when Toya noticed him and tried to slide his phone away.
“Nuh uh,” Akito grinned. “Whatcha got there?”
Toya smirked and gestured to Akito’s arm, where his sweatshirt sleeve was once again on the fall. “Only if you tell me what you’ve got there.”
“Touche,” The redhead quipped, hiding the flush that marred his features.
“So that’s where you’ve been sneaking off to, then?” Toya asked, softly smiling but with concern in his silver eyes.
Akito loosened the reins holding that flush in, the bright red staining his cheeks as he scratched the back of his head. “Ah… about that…”
“How is she?”
Akito met Toya’s gaze, fighting with himself over how to answer his friend. “She’s… fighting.”
Toya seemed satisfied with this, dropping the subject, but not without the occasional chuckle at the glitter that stained Akito’s arm. “It’s just like her to use glitter.”
“I had no idea what she was doing until she finished,” Akito admitted, pulling his sleeve down to completely expose the butterfly, “but I don’t mind it.”
He glanced up to be met with mirth in Toya’s eyes as he held in his laughter. “Hey, don’t look at me like that!” Akito grumbled.
“I’m sorry,” Toya chuckled, “I’ve just never seen you like this before.”
“I’ve never felt like this before, to be fair,” He murmured, pulling his sleeve back up. “Don’t think you’re escaping without your own interrogation. What have you been smiling at?”
Toya’s cheeks pinkened. “Oh, uhm, it’s nothing.”
“Hey, I told you about mine.”
“Ah…” Toya stared at his phone, seeming to sort out his thoughts.
“It’s that purple-haired girl, isn’t it? Asahina?”
Toya’s eyes widened. “Don’t te-”
“I ain’t gonna tell her, calm down. You’re just as obvious as I am,” Akito laughed. “Looks like we both have reasons to spend time at that hospital.”
“I guess we do,” Toya grinned. “Are you going after practice? Since apparently ‘visiting day’ doesn’t apply to you.”
Akito wanted to, he really did. But he had a massive stack of homework that had piled up at home, all because he was spending his time at that hospital, and he had to make a dent in it.
He shook his head. “I’ll catch it next time.”
And later that night, as he was shuffling through the stacks of homework on his desk, he realized just how quiet it was in his room.
He sat back in his chair, staring at the ceiling, trying not to look as miserable as he felt. The sentences and words on the pages in front of him were jumbled, messes of incoherency that he couldn’t understand.
His brain was a mess, he couldn’t focus on anything. All he saw in his head were flashes of blonde hair and dazzling ruby eyes.
And as soon as he started seeing small doodles of butterflies in the corners of his homework pages, he swore under his breath, grabbed his jacket, and let his legs carry him once again.
Chapter Seven
Saki Focus
Earlier that night…
“It’s ready, Tenma-san.”
Saki tore her gaze from the darkened night outside of her window. He hadn’t shown up, but she also couldn’t expect him to. He had his own life to live, and they’d known each other for about a week at most.
“What’s ready?” She tilted her head in thought, her blonde curls spilling over her shoulders. Her mind had only consisted of splashes of orange for the past few days, and anything else of importance was a blur.
“The project that the staff have been working on for you. Your motivation.” Mafuyu smiled, walking towards Saki’s bedside.
Saki wanted to mention that she’d already found her motivation, her reason to keep fighting, but she couldn’t give him away. He’d worked so hard to sneak around, all of that effort just for her. He was her most precious, best-kept secret, and she wouldn’t jeopardize that.
“So what is this thing, Asahina?” Saki asked, watching nervously as Mafuyu approached her.
“It’s something we have to go see.”
“Oh…” Saki glanced down at her legs, frail shaky legs that could hardly carry her across the room. “I don’t think I can…”
“Don’t worry,” Mafuyu smiled, handing her a small walking cane. She’d even taken the liberty to cover it in small stickers. Butterflies, of course. “I came prepared.”
Saki swallowed, but kicked the blankets off of her feet anyways. Gripping the cane, she lifted herself off of the bed, her long hospital gown almost hitting the floor. The tile was cold against her feet, and she had half the mind to realize she hadn’t left her bed in a few days. “Okay… let’s go.”
She gripped Mafuyu’s arm for balance as they walked. Mafuyu opened doors for her as they walked down long hallways, and descended down the elevator. Saki’s gaze caught on every detail—things she hadn’t seen about the hospital since she was admitted, God only knows how long ago.
Mafuyu eventually led her to a wide set of double doors, and she could feel a nice breeze coming from just beyond them. This was definitely a new addition to the building, as there was nothing decorating the walls around them. No decor, no people, no noise.
“Are you ready?” Mafuyu asked, her twilight eyes sparkling.
“I guess?” Saki tried a smile, but the day had taken a toll on her. Between a particularly bad flare-up and all this new environment, she was exhausted.
“You’re going to love it,” Mafuyu smiled as she pushed the doors open, and quickly ushered Saki inside. The quick movements were rough on her weak body, but she understood the reasoning the minute the door shut behind them.
The ceiling was made entirely of paneled glass, the starry sky above them glittering brightly as moonlight illuminated the room. The floor beneath their feet was made of the softest grass, so soft that Saki almost wanted to drop her cane and sit down right there. Trees in various stages of growth littered the room, leaving only a large circle in the center completely clear, while dozens of types of flowers were planted everywhere. The pops of color were accentuated by the moonlight, and it appeared to be the perfect garden room. But that wasn’t what caught Saki’s eye.
It was the butterflies. Tens upon tens of butterflies danced around the room, their wings glittering in the moonlight. The room’s temperature was made to accommodate the various species’, and they were everywhere. Resting on flowers and tree trunks, floating around the center clearing, or circling the glass paneling above, where the moonlight could hit their wings just perfectly enough to shimmer.
“Oh…” Saki murmured, words failing her as she took in the room. Her eyes couldn’t find a single place to rest on, everything in the room screamed beauty and demanded attention.
“The butterfly garden is public, of course, and can be accessed by the other hospital residents, but you were the inspiration behind it. They wanted you to see it first, Tenma-san.” Mafuyu smiled, her own twilight eyes shimmering under starlight.
“It’s beautiful…” Saki mumbled as she slowly hobbled towards the center of the room, and she meant it. The room was gorgeous, everything she could have wanted as motivation to keep fighting. So many butterflies to signify her strength. But even still, she felt a sudden sense of melancholy.
She wanted to share this room. She wanted to share this moment with her real motivation, her real reason to see every single “tomorrow.” Butterflies were no longer her symbol of strength alone, but one that she shared with him.
Mafuyu had sat down on a metal garden bench off to the side of the room, but Saki wanted to leave. She adored the room with all her heart, and the meaning behind it, but the tornado of emotions in her chest was too much for her to handle tonight. She had just turned towards Mafuyu when a loud disturbance caught her attention.
And the double doors flew open.
Chapter Eight
Akito Focus
She wasn’t in her room.
Akito had never known panic quite like what he felt when he hadn’t gotten a response from her room, and had opened the door to complete darkness. He had suspected that she couldn’t walk, at least not well, so she couldn’t have just gone for a stroll.
There was a second, a small second, where he thought she was gone for good.
And it was his reaction to that thought, the visceral ripping of his heart in two shredded halves, that triggered a string of realizations.
This was not just an infatuation, a mutual fascination. Whatever they were to each other had passed that stage a while ago. A mutual reliance had blossomed into a mutual attraction, which had only spiraled from that point upwards.
He ran a hand through his orange hair, tugging at the strands as he panicked, forcing himself to think. He couldn’t be reckless, he couldn’t go trashing every hospital room until he found her. The space around him suddenly seemed too small, the air too stifling. He needed to breathe.
He left her room, his old basketball shoes clicking across the tiled floors as his breathing steadied. There was every possibility that he was overreacting, and he could come back tomorrow with Toya, for visiting day, and everything would be fine again. Though he knew he wouldn’t be able to rest until he knew she was okay.
Akito let his mind wander, letting his feet take him until he’d reached parts of the hospital he didn’t recognize. New corridors, less decor, and a quieter, more uneasy atmosphere. It was the type of atmosphere that any normal person would turn back from, almost as if the wing hadn’t been finished. And to his credit, he was going to turn back, until he heard the feather-soft whisper of Mafuyu’s voice.
He couldn’t tell what direction it came from, or if he was even on the right floor, but his heart pounded as he ran down hallway after hallway.
The walls all looked the same to him, even still, and he could’ve sworn he’d looped around to the same corner three separate times. But he heard a few more hushed whispers, and they sounded closer than they were before.
He bolted down a particularly long hallway, not a singular picture decorating the walls, not even a light to illuminate the end. He was running, running so fast that even with a light he wouldn’t have been able to stop in time, and he ran straight into an old metal cart that had been parked in the corner. The crash was deafening, but thankfully he wasn’t injured.
It did, however, cause him to stop and scan his surroundings, and his eyes fell on a large set of double doors that he swore he’d never seen before. The room seemed quiet, undisturbed, but there was an unexplainable tug that screamed at him to open the doors. Just to check, just to see.
So Akito walked right up to those double doors, the metal push bars ice-cold against his skin, and he pushed with all his might. The doors gave way to reveal an ethereal garden room, complete with various types of trees and flora alike. The ceiling was made of paneled glass which created the perfect spotlight for the moonlight above, and standing in the center of that spotlight was Saki.
Her eyes widened as she saw him, and he hardly had time to register her little walking cane before he was running to her, reaching for her. She was so frail in his arms and he picked her up with ease, lifting her into the air, mesmerized by the streaks of moonlight poking through strands of her strawberry blonde hair.
“You scared me half to death…” He breathed, still staring at her, still making sure she was there and real.
“What are you doing here?” She asked, her voice a little strained, and he set her back down. She wobbled with her cane, and he took her hands instead, bracing them on his arms. Sturdy, stable.
“I just… I had to see you.”
“You missed me that much already?” She giggled, though still a little shaky.
“Maybe I did.” He murmured, unsure where the sudden boldness came from. It hit him then, that this was so much more than either he or Toya thought it was. So much more.
Saki smiled at him before turning and facing the rest of the room. “Isn’t it beautiful?”
That’s when he noticed the butterflies. The dozens of butterflies, butterflies of every color and every shape. Butterflies that glittered in the moonlight and butterflies that were so dark, you couldn’t see them until they were right under your nose. Two weeks ago, he wouldn’t have cared at all about a butterfly room. But now? It was enough to sew up the tears in his heart, which was panging so hard he could feel it in every nerve ending.
“It is…” He murmured.
“You… kept the butterfly.” Saki whispered, her delicate fingers tracing his forearm where her glittering creation still remained. His sweatshirt sleeve had rolled down yet again, and he was starting to wonder why he bothered with the old thing.
“Of course I kept it,” He murmured. He raised his hand to cup her cheek, her skin soft and warm despite the chills that wracked her body. “You made it, after all.”
“Somebody hasn’t been telling me everything.” Mafuyu’s light voice drifted through the quiet air, causing both Saki and Akito to jump.
“Asahina! I’m so sorry…” Saki wailed. “I was just-”
“It’s okay,” Mafuyu laughed from her spot on the garden bench. “I knew.”
“You knew…?” Saki murmured, her cheeks tinting pink.
Mafuyu raised a perfect purple eyebrow. “The bag? In your room? Do you expect me to believe you own any accessory with the color black, Saki?”
Saki giggled, leaning back into Akito’s hold. His chest was on fire from the proximity as her eyes fluttered shut, and he barely noticed her falling limp until his arms instinctively looped beneath her own, holding her up.
“Hey now,” He murmured, keeping her upright. Her walking cane had fallen into the soft grass at her feet and she stirred, slowly wiping her eyes. “Are you okay?”
“She’s tired,” Mafuyu called out. “She’s had a long day.”
Saki let out a string of unintelligible murmurs before turning around and gazing up at him with big, sleepy eyes. “Thank you…”
“For what?” He questioned, swiping a lone curl of blonde hair out of her face.
“For being here,” She yawned, “For sharing this with me.”
He could hardly process her words before Mafuyu had swept beside him, slowly taking Saki’s sleepy form from him with a smile. “Have a good night, Shinonome-san.”
As he stood in the soft grass, replaying the night over and over in his head, a small yellow butterfly flew in front of his face, idly flapping in front of him. It slowed just long enough to find a perch on his nose, and it was close enough that he noticed its wing membrane—a glassy, sheer mosaic.
Chapter Nine
Saki Focus
Saki woke up in complete shock. Despite how tired she was, she remembered everything from the night before. She remembered the gorgeous butterfly garden with everything she could have ever wanted, and she remembered him.
She doesn’t know how or why he showed up that late, or knew to look for her there, but she’d never been happier to see him. This man who she’d only heard the name of twice in her life, and she just wanted to be close to him. She was too tired to protest Mafuyu’s taking of her last night, but she had wished she could stay.
“Akito…” She murmured, reaching for her papers and pen from her nightstand. Morning light brightened her hospital room as she began to sketch, slowly drawing his soft features from memory.
The only sounds that filled her ears were the soft scratches of her pen against paper as she sketched his bright orange hair, with the lone yellow streak that intrigued her endlessly. She had to add butterflies, little ones resting all over him. A few in his hair, a few on his shoulders, one or two clinging to his baggy hoodie, all with different shapes, patterns and colors.
She sketched for hours, adding small details as she remembered them, and spent an hour on his smile alone. She just couldn’t capture it just right—nothing compared to the real thing.
What Saki hadn’t realized was that she hadn’t thought about the severity of her condition since he waltzed into her life. Ever since his first visit, alone, where he showed a real interest in her, and wanted to talk to her, all thoughts of how truly crippled she was disappeared. There were times where she couldn’t avoid it, like having to use a cane the previous night, but she hadn’t thought twice about it.
He made her feel normal, wanted, and like she stood a chance. Like she could get better.
And she wanted to try. For him.
She was just adding the final details to a few finer lines when there was a soft knock at her door, not the aggressive-sounding one she’d grown so used to. “Come in.”
Toya slipped through the doorway, softly closing it behind him, and Saki scrambled to hide her papers, her sketches. She was, of course, too slow.
“You captured him well.” Toya smirked, a knowing glint in his eyes.
Saki looked away, trying to hide her flush. She cleared her throat, desperate to change the subject. “Ahem…”
Toya had no such plans. He took his seat at the edge of her bed, the seat he could once call his own but now undoubtedly belonged to another. He raised an eyebrow, his silver eyes observant. “You guys are close.”
Saki sighed, giving into his interrogation. “It all happened a little fast…”
Saki shut her eyes, waiting for the onslaught of questions. He deserved answers after all, Toya’s always been one of her closest friends. But the questions never came. In fact, she thought she heard… laughter?
She glanced up to find Toya looking at her, mirth in his eyes, holding in his laughter. Catching his gaze, he lost control completely, doubling over with his shoulders shaking.
“What’s so funny?” Saki pouted, crossing her arms.
“I just need…” Toya’s shoulders shook between words with his laughter. “I just needed to see if you were as smitten as he is, Saki.”
“He’s… what?” Saki’s eyes widened.
“He went to practice with that butterfly on his forearm, you know. Those baggy sweatshirts he wears… it gave him away, but he didn’t seem to mind.”
Saki looked down at her hands, smiling to herself. “Did he now…”
“Take care of him, Saki,” Toya murmured, “because I have no doubt he’s going to take care of you.”
She wanted to be shocked, to be surprised that he felt this way towards her, but in truth, she’d seen it. She just had trouble believing it—she’d never had anyone pay her any mind before, not in that way. It’d been a long time since she’d seen someone, other than Toya, who wanted to spend genuine time with her. She glanced at the drawings and photographs that littered her wall as memories came flooding back, memories of her best friend, Ichika, singing karaoke with her, and her older brother, Tsukasa, ruffling her hair.
Akito had been so sweet to her, so kind and encouraging. A light at the end of this seemingly endless tunnel she’d been stuck in, and she wouldn’t take him for granted.
“He’s been…” She paused, searching for the right words. “He’s been the light of my life since he started visiting. I still don’t know why he started, I don’t even think he knows, but… I’m glad he did.”
“You’ve been better,” Toya murmured, “you’ve been taking your medicine properly.”
Saki flushed, looking away briefly. “They told you?”
“I can tell. You’re happier,” Toya smiled, reaching for her frail hands, still so delicate. “Though part of that may just be Akito, and I just want to make sure you’re serious… about him. I’ve never seen him this way before.”
Saki steeled herself, she’d thought long and hard about this. She had nothing but time, anyways. “I am serious. As serious as I can be… with this being new to me too… but I’ve realized something.”
“What’s that?” Toya arched an eyebrow.
Saki reached for her sketches, laying each page full of little butterflies across her lap. Each one different, each one seeming to have its own soul and personality. Finally, she grabbed her sketch of Akito, tracing a few tentative fingers over the dried ink before dropping the sketch on top of the rest, directly in the center. “This isn’t about butterflies anymore.”
Saki’s door slowly creaked open, Mafuyu’s purple hair peeking in. Her eyes scanned the room, resting on Toya for just a second before widening as she tried to shrink back.
“I’m sorry! I just wanted to check in, but I’ll leave you be-”
Toya smiled, gesturing for her to come in. “Asahina! Come on in.”
Mafuyu entered with a clipboard in her hand, undoubtedly just a standard mental check for Saki. As she walked, her free hand lightly brushed against Toya’s, and Saki watched as they both froze in place, sporting matching blushes. Saki smirked, as Toya’s attempt to be friendly had just given him away.
“Well, well!” Saki grinned, eager to move the conversation away from herself. “What’s going on here?”
Chapter Ten
Akito Focus
Akito couldn’t sleep for the rest of that night. His thoughts kept him awake—she kept him awake—and he was restless, overwhelmed. What had started as… he honestly didn’t even know… him feeling her pain? Relating, even? His need to help others had kicked into overdrive, figuring he could give her at least an afternoon of his time, before blossoming into something so much more.
How much more? He didn’t dare think about it. Rather than dissecting these feelings that were new, unknown, and deciding what they meant for him, he found himself pacing around his kitchen, a recipe for making chocolates open on his phone.
He’d done it once before, and baking has been said to relieve stress and calm nerves, so how bad could it be? He just needed a small break, a break away from everything he’d had on his plate recently.
The night trudged on, and his stress was nowhere near disappearing. He’d argue it was actually worse, as he had a permanent image of Saki standing in the middle of that damned butterfly garden imprinted in his brain. As dreadful as hospital gowns tend to look on people, somehow Saki had managed to make hers look ethereal underneath that moonlight. She had nearly glowed, and the way his heart had pounded was something he’d never be able to forget.
He’d completely disassociated during the chocolate making process, the movements coming back to him through muscle memory. He’d even attempted more of his homework while the treats were baking, his orange hair falling over his olive eyes as he toiled over his worksheets. Ultimately fruitless, his homework remained unfinished as his frustration grew.
The final nail in his heart-shaped coffin was when his kitchen timer went off, and he pulled out his freshly baked chocolates to see that he’d mindlessly shaped each one into a butterfly.
Akito skipped practice the next morning, something he’d never done. He’d given up his attempts at distractions after the chocolates, and now carried a few of them in his bag as a gift. A gift for the one who’d kept him up, a gift for the one that had finally made him come to a conclusion.
It didn’t matter how this unnamed, unlabeled attraction between them started, only that it was there and getting harder to avoid with each day that passed. He didn’t want to avoid it anymore.
The walk to the hospital had become so familiar, he didn’t even notice his surroundings anymore. His thoughts run rampant about his head, leaving no room for anything other than disassociating. He didn’t care that Saki had this condition, he wanted to see her get better. He wanted to be part of the reason she got better, and part of the reason she smiled every day.
Confusion filled him as he pushed open the hospital doors, finding staff running around in blind panic. They were frenzied, seeming not to care if they knocked over valuables or ran into passersby. Confusion morphed to dread as he heard her name leave their lips, hushed whispers over what may have happened. He felt like he couldn’t move fast enough as he raced to her room, not even bothering to knock as he threw the door open.
Saki was unconscious, her skin a ghostly white as she laid in her bed. She had every manner of machine hooked up to her in some way or another, and Akito felt a shred of relief that the doctors had helped her at all. His relief was short-lived, however, as he ran to her side, grabbing a frail hand. Her skin was still warm, it had always been unusually so, but it ran considerably colder than what was normal for her.
“Saki…” It was the first time he’d said her name, a desperate plea. “Hold on for me.”
She remained unresponsive, and he held onto her hand through it all. Fading in and out of a restless sleep, he had no idea how much time had passed when a light knock sounded from the door. Still incoherent, he could hardly manage a grumbled response as the door opened and Toya stepped in.
“Toya,” He groaned, using his free hand to wipe sleep from his eyes. “Listen, about-”
“Due to the nature of what’s happening, you don’t need to explain yourself, Akito.” Toya murmured.
Akito tore his gaze back to Saki, who thankfully had a little bit of color return to her face throughout his restless hours. “I can’t lose her, Toya.”
“I know,” Toya’s lips were set in a grim line. “Being part of her life means having to be ready for… this. Are you prepared for that?”
Akito kept his gaze on Saki, his eyes softening while thinking of all the time they’d spent together this past week. She’d shredded every guard around his heart, stolen it, and dangled it in front of him like a shiny piece of treasure. “I lost that choice from the first visit.”
Toya chuckled, reaching over to ruffle his friend’s orange hair, and that’s when Akito saw it. The sketch. His heart panged and pounded wildly as he saw himself, saw himself the way she saw him. He tried to put up such a cold front with people, keeping everything guarded and sealed behind walls of stone within his soul, but she saw his smile. His laughter. Who he was deep down, and who he wanted to be for her.
And the butterflies… her having drawn him as the focal point, the centerpiece, surrounded by what had been giving her strength for so long… it tugged at the various pieces of his heart, clicking them together, piece by piece, until it beat for her and her alone.
He gently gripped the page, his gaze memorizing every detail, his fingers lightly trembling. Toya smirked at him, finding the situation far funnier than it was. Akito needed, now more than ever, for Saki to wake up. He didn’t know what he would do, but he had to hear her laugh again, see her smile.
And as he tore his gaze from the sketch and back to Saki, he found her bright crimson eyes looking right back at him.
“Saki…” Akito breathed, sighing in relief, and her eyes softened.
“Akito,” she murmured, her voice thin and weak. “How long have you all been here?”
“That doesn’t matter,” Toya said, his silver eyes concerned. “How are you feeling?”
“A little lightheaded…”
“What happened?” Akito asked, never once looking away from her, afraid she might disappear at any second.
“Even when she’s doing better, like she has been recently,” Toya chimed in, and Akito finally glanced his way. “Sometimes her body just… crashes. Though the intervals are getting larger between incidents.”
Saki nodded. “I haven’t had a crash like this in a while.”
“This is… normal?” Akito asked, taking a deep breath. It’d be a difficult adjustment to get used to, for sure.
“Even if it is… thank you for being here for me.” Saki smiled before she saw the paper in his hands, her sketch. Before she could truly panic, her room door flew open.
“Alright everyone,” Mafuyu strode in with her clipboard and a smile, which brightened further at the sight of Toya. “Tenma-san is awake, so I’ll need everyone to leave the room so we can run some tests.”
Akito wanted to protest, but Saki reached for him and grabbed his hand. She whispered softly, for his ears only, “Meet me in the butterfly garden tonight.”
Chapter Eleven
Saki Focus
Saki waited, rather impatiently. The grass of the garden tickled her feet as she stood in the center clearing, the moonlight shrouding her just like that first night. Though this time, the butterflies that surrounded her, even landed on her, weren’t her focus.
Her focus was on the large set of double doors, and she turned to them as they opened, a flash of orange hair being the first thing she saw. She smiled as Akito walked toward her, stopping a few feet away.
“I’m real, I promise,” She giggled. “Come closer.”
He chuckled softly before obliging, closing the distance in a few strides before he stood right in front of her. His soft smile lit her up from the inside as she gazed into his olive eyes.
“I called you here…” She started, slightly trembling through her words, “because I heard everything.”
Akito paled, looking away to hide the slow flush that creeped across his cheeks.
“I had to pretend, for Toya,” She explained, “but I heard you. I felt you, as you held my hand. I was unconscious for a while, yes, but it was brief. I was just… too weak to move, and I fell in and out of sleep.”
She reached out and grabbed his hand, her own having returned to their original warmth as his fingers wrapped around hers, and she continued, “But I heard… and I held on for you.”
“I was terrified,” He admitted, his gaze glued to where their hands intertwined. “I meant it. I can’t lose you.”
“You won’t lose me,” She smiled. “I’m not… being pushed forward by these butterflies anymore, Akito.”
He shivered, the sound of his name coming from her tugging at his pounding heart. “Why not?”
“You give me far more strength than they do, Akito. I want to live for you.”
It was as much of a confession as she could give, as she knew how to give. And with the moonlight illuminating them both, she was able to say every word directly to him, looking into those olive eyes that held only affection.
He raised his hand to cup her cheek, relief filling him at how warm her skin was again. She was alive, and she was trying to get better, all for him.
“Live for me, Saki. I’ll be right by your side through it all.”
An acceptance, as much of one as he knew how to give. Feelings had never been his forte, and still weren’t, but he knew what he felt for her, and that he wanted to be by her side as long as he could.
“I’ll get better for you,” She murmured, leaning into his touch. “And we can live a normal life.”
“While yes, I do want you to get better,” Akito breathed, the rest of the world disappearing around him, as if it were just the two of them. “I just want to be with you. It doesn’t matter if we’re here, out there, or anywhere else.”
Saki surged forward, capturing his lips with hers. He closed his eyes and melted into the kiss, tangling his fingers in her blonde curly pigtails. She gripped the baggy sleeves of his black sweatshirt, trying to pull him impossibly closer to her. Butterflies floated around them, landing in their hair, their wings reflecting multicolored moonlight across the couple.
Saki pulled back first, smiling, resting her head against his chest. His heart beat wildly, beat for beat matching her own. She felt rather than saw as he remembered something, and he ran his hand through her hair as he whispered, “I have something for you.”
He reached into the bag by his feet, Saki hadn’t even noticed he’d brought it, and pulled out a small black box. He held it out for her, and she took it, her fingers slowly tracing the smooth material.
“What is it?” She asked, scared to open it.
“You’ll have to see.” He smiled, shoving his hands in his sweatshirt pockets to avoid awkwardly fiddling with them. He looked almost nervous, anxious, like the box held his hopes and dreams, and they were in her shaky hands now.
She cracked open the box, and her eyes lit up upon seeing the specially wrapped chocolates, each one shaped into a butterfly. “Where did you get these?”
“I, uh,” He stuttered, scratching the back of his head and looking away. “I made them.”
Saki stared at him, blinking. “You made these?”
He nodded.
“For me?”
He paused, and nodded once more.
Saki stared at the box. She didn’t know what to say, she’d never received a gift like this.
“I was going to give them to you earlier, but… everything happened… and this seemed like a better spot anyway.” He chuckled.
Saki put one of the small butterfly chocolates in her palm. Even individually wrapped, she could make out all the small details within the wings, as if he spent a considerable amount of time on each one. As she admired his handiwork, a small orange butterfly floated by her head and landed right on her fingertips, right next to the treat. Its wings were the same shade of bright orange as Akito’s hair, and she giggled as its little legs tickled her fingers.
“Yeah, it’s the perfect spot.”
Epilogue
Three Months Later
“Well, Tenma-san,” Mafuyu grinned, looking at her clipboard. “Your test results are back.”
The entire room froze, waiting with bated breath for Mafuyu’s next words. Akito grabbed Saki’s hand, squeezing a little harder than he meant to. His nerves were eating him alive.
“And…” Mafuyu chuckled, pausing for dramatic effect. “You’ve been cleared. You’re well enough to be discharged!”
Toya and Mafuyu cheered, embracing each other in a small hug, the two closer than ever. Akito let out a sigh of relief, a massive weight being lifted off of his shoulders as he loosened his grip on Saki’s hand. And Saki… she just stared ahead. It didn’t seem real.
“I’m… free?” She whispered, her ruby eyes glassy as she looked at Mafuyu.
Mafuyu nodded. “You can go live a normal life now, Tenma-san. Just remember to keep up on your medicine and treatments, like you have been. You’ve done so well.”
Saki smiled, resting her head on Akito’s shoulder. They’d been going strong for three months, and he was the reason she kept up on all her medicines, treatments and exercises. He’d been her perfect form of encouragement, and all of her effort was slowly paying off.
She looked around her hospital room, the room she’d called home for what seemed like her entire life. The white walls that were still as bare and dreary as ever, the stiff hospital bed with paper sheets that she could finally say goodbye to, and her personal wall. She still had all of her old drawings and photographs, her brother and old best friends still smiling at her from each frame, but she’d added new ones.
Her sketch of Akito, covered in butterflies, had been framed and hung near the center, as well as dozens of small polaroids of the couple in the butterfly garden. They were all important memories she wanted to keep, and now she’d get to hang them up on her own wall at home.
“What do you want to do when you get out, Saki?” Toya asked.
Saki didn’t have a clear answer, she’d never thought about it. “I think… I want to go shopping.”
“We can do that.” Toya grinned.
“Will you miss your garden, Tenma-san?” Mafuyu asked, her twilight eyes flashing.
Her garden. The butterfly garden. Saki had to say goodbye to her butterfly garden.
But she wasn’t sad, not really. The garden had never been the source of her strength, but rather the holder of her memories with the one who did give her strength. She just needed, metaphorically, a new garden.
She turned to Akito, her eyes soft and filled with love. “Akito, can you be…”
He chuckled, squeezing her hand. “Yes, Saki, I can be your butterfly garden.”