Archive of Our Own

+++

With my eyes closed, I ask if she knows how this will all turn out.
"Long-term or short-term?" she asks.
Both.
"Long-term," she says, "we're all going to die. Then our bodies will rot. No surprise there. Short-term, we're going to live happily ever after."
Really?
"Really," she says. "So don't sweat it.” 

-Survivor (Chuck Palahniuk)

+++

Aki Hayakawa is stuck in the bathroom. He has a year left to live, and he's going to spend it sitting on the edge of the tub.

"I'm trying to get in but it won't budge!" Denji yells from the other side of the door, and a series of ominous banging sounds follow after. Having already been in there for half an hour, Aki just takes a deep breath and rests his chin in his hands. It doesn't matter, he tells himself, a year is a plenty. 

"No, you fool. You are doing it all wrong," Power cries haughtily, no doubt shoving Denji aside. "Now watch in awe as I demonstrate my prowess."

Aki hears Denji protest before the door starts to rattle on its hinges. Even worse, he can hear a loud buzzing sound, which means that Power has found the electric drill.

"Power, if you break down my door, I swear to god I am making you pay for a new one," Aki shouts, though he isn't sure she can hear him over the din.

"Twas Denji who broke the lock!" she screams, turning off the drill and giving the door another slam.

"Liar," Denji replies. "Don't listen to her, Aki. She's crazy. I'll get you out."

"Watch it, I'll kill you if you-" Aki starts before there's a sound like a thunderclap and suddenly the room is full of splintered wood. Denji is sprawled at his feet.

"What was that? he says, groaning.

Aki holds the bridge of his nose, taking a moment to calm himself down.

"I was saying that I'd kill you if you broke the door."

"Oh," Denji says, eyes going wide before he breaks into a smile. "You almost had me there, good joke, man."

"It wasn't a joke."

"Yeah, it was," Denji says, somehow unhurt, though his sandy hair is full of dust. "You can't be mad at me. I saved you."

"Me too!" Power butts in, striding into the room and further mangling the door, which now lies in pieces beneath her feet.

"Yeah, you saved me, sure," Aki says, tone heavy with exhaustion. "Have I ever told you that I hate you both?"

"You're welcome, asshole," Denji beams, tackling him and nuzzling his cheek against Aki's shoulder.

"I need a smoke."

+++

The sun has long since set when Aki gets outside and there's a mild chill in the air, just enough to make his breath fog up in front of his face. Rounding the final corner to the roof, he slips his hand into his pocket, looking for his cigarettes. It's at this point that he stops dead.

"What the hell are you doing?" he asks, heart rate spiking. He's never seen another soul up here and yet there they are. A person with long red hair is standing on the other side of the roof, one foot on the wrong side of the railing and the other dangling over the edge. For a moment they don't turn, don't even acknowledge him, and Aki takes a step forward, trying to calculate the amount of time it would take for him to run over and pull them back.

"What?" the stranger asks after a few seconds, looking over their shoulder and blinking at him sleepily, as if Aki is the one acting strange. For some reason, their nonchalant response makes him angry and Aki takes another step forward, trying not to show his fear.

"I said what the hell are you doing?" he repeats and once again, the person just blinks. Their eyes are so flat that Aki starts to wonder if they're high.

"Isn't it obvious?" they reply and their voice is deeper than Aki expected, but whispery and quiet. Shocked by the bluntness of the question, Aki doesn't know what to do. In the absence of any other plan, he pulls out his pack of cigarettes and taps one out into his hand, noting the way that his fingers shake.

Cigarette in his hand, he looks back at the boy on the ledge, looks hard, taking him in from the oversized jumper that swamps his frame to the white socks poking out of battered trainers. Slight and girlish, he thinks he must be young, no more than his own age but probably even younger than that. This guy has time, he thinks to himself, nothing but time, and yet he's about to throw it all away.

"You know," Aki says as he pinches his cigarette between his fingers. "That really pisses me off."

"What?" the boy says, more confused than offended as he spins around to face him. His fingers are pale and thin, wrapped loosely around the rusty railing.

"That all you can say?" Aki asks.

"No," he replies.

"That's not very convincing." Aki shakes his head, lighting his cigarette and bringing it to his lips. He tries to look unconcerned though its the furthest thing from the truth. He can't watch someone die, not again.

"I don't have to convince you of anything," the boy replies, his hair whipping around in the wind. Taking another drag, Aki tries not to think about how high up they are, or about the solid concrete down below.

"No," he agrees. "You don't have to, but I figure you owe me."

"I owe you?" the boy asks, and a hint of annoyance flashes across his lifeless face.

"For ruining my cigarette," Aki explains, tapping ash onto the ground. "This is my spot. I come here at this time every night."

"Well," the boy says calmly. "Lucky for you, you won't have to worry about me after this."

With that, stranger turns away, peeling one hand away from the railing and looking out at the skyline. Aki sees it before it happens, he pitches forward, he ceases to breathe, he thinks about all the people he met in hospital, corridors of empty beds, cold white floor.

Everything happens so fast and before he realises what he's doing, he's half way across the roof. The stranger looks back over his shoulder when he hears his footsteps, confused for a moment before he flinches away, letting go of the railing a second too late and leaving just enough time for Aki to grab his hand.

This close to the edge, Aki can hear the cars rushing past below and feel the wind on his face. The stranger's hand is cold and soft in his own, which is coated in a slippery layer of panicked sweat. He's only falling for a second but it feels like forever. The next thing he knows, they're on the floor, the red haired boy pressed to Aki's chest as he hugs him around the railing, gasping for air.

"What are you doing?" he yelps as Aki tightens his grip, wrapping his arms and legs around him and hooking his chin on his head. He doesn't let himself think about the fact that his feet are still dangling over the ledge.

"Isn't it obvious?" Aki shouts, throwing the boys words back in his face and holding firm as he tries to wriggle away. "I'm saving your stupid life!"

"I don't understand," the boy says, sounding even younger than before. "Why do you care?"

"Why do I care?" Aki repeats, baffled by the question. "Sorry for not wanting you to throw your life away."

"What if I don't want it?" the boy says, going still once he realises he's not going to get away.

"I'd say you're an ungrateful brat," Aki snaps, still breathing hard. "There are people who would do anything to have that kind of time."

"I know," the boy says, "and if I would give it to them, if I could, but I can't. So what do you want from me?"

Aki can hear the sincerity in his tone and he hates it, he wants to hit him, he wants to scream in his beautiful, expressionless face. Instead he just kisses his teeth, shaking his head and burying his fingers in the soft wool of his jumper.

"Is your life really so bad?" he asks quietly, but the boy doesn't reply, gone floppy and lifeless in his arms.

"Hey," he says, giving him a shake. He calls again, gets no response, and then reaches round to grab his chin, tilting it so that he can see his face. The boy's eyes are large and round, the irises coloured the dark red of autumn leaves.

"You shouldn't touch me," he croaks, Aki's fingers still on his cheek.

"Why?"

"It's not good for you," he replies, avoiding Aki's gaze."It's not safe."

"Not safe?"

"Everyone who touches me dies," he says, and for the first time Aki wonders whether the boy might actually be insane. Deciding not to voice it, he just shakes his head, laughing humourlessly.

"Well, you don't have to worry about that with me," he assures him, thinking of the cigarette he never got to finish.

"You smoke?" he asks and the boy shakes his head. "You gonna jump for it if I let go?"

The boy considers it for a second, wrinkling his pointed nose. "Will you be angry at me if I do?"

"Yeah," Aki replies.

"In that case I will." He nods and Aki frowns.

"Are you trying to piss me off?"

"Yes," the boy says, and it's the first time Aki has seen him smile. He's pretty when he smiles, he thinks, and then pushes the thought far away.

"Alright, you get them for me," Aki says. "They're in my right jacket pocket, the lighter too."

Aki's surprised when the stranger actually does as he's told, reaching behind him to dip his slender fingers into his pocket.

"What's your name anyway?" Aki asks as the boy taps out a cigarette, popping it between his own lips and flicking at the lighter.

"Angel," he says as the flame comes to life and he dips the end of the cigarette into it.

"Funny." Aki smirks. "Think you can fly?"

"Good one." Angel rolls his eyes. "A little suicide humour. Now, I've told you my name. What's yours?"

"Aki," Aki replies, parting his lips so that Angel can slip the cigarette between them, the filter still warm from his own breath.

"Aki," Angel repeats, wrapping his tongue around each syllable as if he wants to know how they taste. He blinks a few times, eyes half-lidded as he looks up at Aki's face, eyes on the glowing end of his cigarette.

"Those things'll kill you, you know." Aki guesses that's his own attempt at a joke. He laughs.

"The brain tumour will probably get me first." He means for it to be funny but it doesn't come out that way. Angel doesn't have a response for that and Aki understands. He doesn't have one either, can't think of anything appropriate to say, so they sit there in silence, looking out at the bustle of the city below.

"I'm sorry," Angel says after a minute. "I'd give you my years if I could."

"And I'd take them," Aki admits, taking another drag on his cigarette. "I don't want to die."

"And I do," Angel replies. "We make quite the pair."

He falls quiet again and Aki doesn't mind. His heart has finally stopped racing now that the odd boy is safe in his arms, and he feels strangely peaceful in Angel's quiet company. It's past ten and the night is fresh and alive. He loves to watch the twinkling of the lights, tasting 40 million lives on the wind.

"Why do you want to live?" Angel asks him a little while later. His head is tipped back to lean on Aki's shoulder and his hair is soft against his cheek.

"My friends," Aki answers easily, thinking of Denji and Power in their apartment a few floors down. He wonders if they've noticed that he's been gone so long.

"I don't have any friends," Angel replies, and Aki thinks it should sound sadder, should mean something, but it doesn't. Angel says it the same way he seems to say everything, as if speaking, itself, is a chore.

"Do you want to have friends?" he asks, wanting to understand.

"Not sure," Angel replies with a shrug. "Sounds tiring. I don't know if it's worth the effort."

"Most people would say that it is," Aki says gently, thinking about his own wasted youth.

"Do you have anything that you like?" he asks, scrabbling for something, anything for Angel to hang onto when Aki has to let him go. Angel takes his time to answer, eyes on the sky, thinking hard. He raises one finger when he gets it.

"Ice cream," he says and, in spite of himself, Aki laughs.

"Okay." He nods. "That's good." Drunk off the adrenaline of earlier and the relief of now, he squeezes tighter, feeling the ladder of Angel's ribcage beneath his wrists. Then he has an idea.

"How about I make you a deal?" he says and Angel looks up at him quizzically. "You live in this building, right?" Angel nods. "Okay, well, if you meet me here tomorrow night at the same time, I'll buy you an ice cream."

Angel frowns. "You think ice cream is a good enough reason to live?"

"Sure," Aki replies, trying to sound more sure of himself than he feels. "It's as good as anything else."

Angel looks down at his hands, picking absently at a piece of loose skin and then ripping it off with his teeth.

"Okay," he says eventually, and Aki tries not to let the relief show on his face.

"You promise?" Aki asks.

"I promise," Angel replies, yawning and rubbing at his eye. "Seeing as I'm not dying today. I think it's time I went back home." He pauses again, looking at Aki.

"Do you want to come with me?" he asks, blinking slowly.

"What?" Aki replies.

"I'll make it obvious, do you want to fuck?" Angel explains, scratching his head and then letting out a small yawn. "I mean, you saved me, or whatever. So I guess you want some kind of reward."

"That's not-" Aki starts, unsure whether to be offended or concerned, and now far too aware of the way that Angel is plastered to his front.

"Whatever," Angel shrugs. "No suicide and no sex. Aren't you just Mr Fun?"

"You're really messed up, aren't you?" Aki says. Angel just shrugs.

Extricating themselves from the railing is a difficult task, as Aki maneuvers Angel with one arm and holds onto the railing with the other. Angel is tiny, featherlight, but it's still difficult to manage and that troubles him. He hates how his body is turning on him, hates that he's rotting from the inside.

"I'll walk you to your door," he says once they're both stood up. Angel raises an eyebrow at him.

"I'm not going to get mugged in the corridor of our building."

Aki rolls his eyes. "I've done this much, might as well finish the job," he says. "You know you could stand to be a little more grateful."

"I'll think about it after the ice cream," Angel replies as they walk down the stairs. His apartment is a few floors down from Aki's.

"I'll be waiting for you tomorrow," Aki says as Angel unlocks the door, giving him one last nod before he slips inside.

+++

Aki gets a letter from the hospital the next day, it lies unopened on his bed when he leaves for the roof. He doesn't think he could take two pieces of bad news in one day, and tells himself that whatever is in there, it can wait. Angel isn't on the roof when he arrives and he tries not to let that scare him. He walks over to the bench, sits down, checks his watch, stands up, paces, sighs. He walks to the railing and looks over the edge, half expecting to hear people screaming, but there's no blood on the tarmac, just people walking, on their own or in groups, going about their days with no idea that he's watching.

"Hello," someone says from behind him and it's all Aki can do not to cheer. Angel is there, just like he said he'd be. He's alive. That means that Aki bought him twenty four hours, and he tells himself that he can do it again.

"Where's my ice cream?" Angel says, squinting at Aki in the gloom.

"So that's how it is?" Aki teases as he walks over to the bench, indicating that Angel should join him. There's something about the other man's demeanor that reminds him of Power and Denji, though he can't put his finger on why. Those two are all fire, this boy is a stagnent pool.

"Hope you like strawberry," he says, fishing the cone out of his bag and holding it out.

"I like most flavours of ice cream," Angel says as he takes it, cool fingertips brushing against Aki's own. "Except for lemon and mint cus they're gross."

"Good to know," Aki says as he lights a cigarette, earning a sideways glance as Angel lavishes his snack with his tongue. Uncomfortable in the flat intensity of his gaze, Aki shoves his other hand in his pocket, finding a hundred yen coin and a crumpled pack of gum.

"How come you didn't get one for yourself?" Angel scoffs. "You clearly like having something to suck on."

"Very funny, Doctor Freud." Aki rolls his eyes, suddenly self conscious of his lips on the cigarette.

"It's not supposed to be funny," Angel deadpans. "It's just an observation. I like looking at your mouth."

"Are you like this with everyone?" Aki asks.

"Wouldn't you like to know," Angel says haughtily. "Ice cream is tastier than cigarettes you know, and it doesn't make you smell."

"Are you saying I smell?"

"Are you saying you don't?"

"I saved your life," Aki cries, throwing out his arms. Angel doesn't care at all.

"I didn't ask you to."

"Okay, fine, I'll cut you another deal," Aki offers, sensing an opportunity. "If you come back tomorrow, I'll buy one for me too. We can eat them together."

"What makes you think I care whether you have an ice cream or not?" Angel shoots back, a smear of melted ice cream on his lower lip.

"Call it intuition," Aki replies.

+++

After that night, meeting Angel becomes something of a routine, one more thing that he does every day to keep the ticking clocks at bay. Aki gets up, he takes a shower, he makes his coffee, he makes breakfast for Power and Denji, he takes his pills, he pretends he's not in pain. He laughs with his friends and he cleans up their messes, they don't talk about the fact that he's sick, they act like they have all the time in the world.

When things get quiet he worries and when he's alone he gets scared. Sometimes he has to go to the hospital. Other times he goes to the supermarket or out for a walk. Over dinner, the two of them tell him about work and Aki tries not to think about what he's lost. He thinks it must be nice have a purpose beyond cooking and cleaning and pretending that everything is okay.

It's not that he doesn't like his life and love his friends, but it feels good to step out onto the roof and drop the facade. Angel already thinks the worst about everything. He is the one person that Aki doesn't think he can disappoint.

"Does it hurt?" Angel asks him one day as they huddle beneath an umbrella, rain falling from the slate-grey sky. Aki shrugs.

"Sometimes," he says.

"Are your family sad?" Angel presses. His tone is vacant as always but Aki notices the anxious way he plays with the hem of his shirt, and how he scratches at one bony ankle with his heel of his trainer.

"They probably would be, if they weren't dead." It hurts to say, but it would hurt more to hide it. Then it would be like they never existed at all. He turns around to find Angel staring at his hands, his fingernail hooked under a flap of skin, lifting it as the cuticle wells with blood.

"That's funny," he says, though there's nothing that resembles humour in his tone. "Mine are gone too. I think it was my fault."

Aki looks at him for a long time, cigarette forgotten in his hand. The noises of the city are all around them, but he can just about hear the steady rhythm of Angel's breaths.

"It feels that way for me too," he says.

+++

It's a few weeks later when the conversation takes an unexpected turn. Its drizzling again and they huddle beneath Aki's umbrella, though it does little to stop the smir from soaking into their clothes. Growing up, Aki heard all about cities and smog and acid rain. People in the village would talk about pollution and poisoned air, singing the praises of snow and space and everything that was clean and crisp and clear. Now, having lived in Tokyo for so many years, Aki can't say they were wrong, but neither does he think they were right. He finds comfort in the smell of fresh tarmac and doesn't mind the way exhaust fumes cling to his hair.

"Have you ever been in love?" Angel asks him as he laps at his ice cream. Today's flavour is vanilla and watching him suckle at the fluffy white cream makes Aki's stomach do something wet and squirmy. He looks away and thinks about the question. It's more difficult than it seems. Casting his mind backwards, he sees hospital gowns and ashen faces, Himeno's strained smile after she lost her eye and the beautiful nurse who seemed to like it when he was in pain.

"I don't think so," he says eventually. "Why do you ask?"

Angel licks his lips, tucking his hand into his sleeve.

"Just interested," he says.

"You want to know something weird?" Angel asks a little while later. The rain has let up and the umbrella sits at their feet, dripping quietly as they watch fat grey clouds trundle across the sky.

"What?" Aki asks, looking at Angel's profile and noticing the way the light bounces off his hair.

"I think I actually like you." Angel says it as if it surprises him, and then turns to face him, wearing an expression that almost could have been a smile.

"Took you long enough to figure it out," Aki teases, leaning over to nudge his shoulder. Angel ignores him.

"Yep." He nods and then holds up two fingers. "So the way I see it, that makes two things to live for. One is ice cream and the other is you."

"You cant say that," Aki says, wavering for a moment before he gives into the urge to wrap his arm around him, rubbing his shoulder affectionately.

"I told you that you shouldn't touch me," Angel warns, leaning away.

"I remember," Aki replies. "You told me that right before you asked me to sleep with you. Makes sense."

Angel nods, mouth curling up onto the ghost of a smirk.

"I'm not very consistent," he says.

"I can tell," Aki replies, resting his chin on the crown of his head. "Besides, I told you then that I don't care.

"Sometimes," Angel starts before trailing off, chewing on his lip. "Sometimes I feel like whatever I have if infectious, like you'll get it if you hang around me too long." He sighs, crunching the end of his ice cream cone. "I didn't know you before so I didn't really care. It's different now."

Aki lets out a long breath, crossing his ankles and chewing the inside of his lip.

"You're not infectious. At least, no more than I am."

"Then why does it feel like it?" Angel asks, and Aki has no answer for that. They sit like that for a minute, Angel's hair tickling his chin, before he speaks again.

"I wish you weren't sick," Angel confesses, and Aki bites his tongue. "When you die, I'll be back down to one reason to live, and I won't even have anyone to buy me ice cream anymore."

Those words do something nasty to Aki's heart and he feels cold and sick, telling himself that it's not fair. The last thing he needs is another thing to worry about, another person to take care of.

"Guess you'll just have to extort some other chump," he says, but the joke misses its mark.

"You're my only real friend," Angel whispers. "I don't know what I'll do when you're gone."

"Don't say that." Aki's voice is shaking. He can still see the first day they met: a ledge, a body and then all that empty space.

"I'm sorry," Angel says, looking up at him thoughtfully before his mouth falls open, a rare glimmer of light in his eyes. "How about we make another deal?"

"What? You want more ice cream?" Aki asks and Angel shakes his head.

"No, this is serious," he says, lips pressed into a little line. "I'll promise that I won't kill myself while you're alive and in return you have to make sure you live as long as you can."

It's a terrible offer, unhealthy on so many levels. Aki doesn't want Angel to live for him, the burden is too much for him to take, and he's about to object before the protest dies on his lips. Maybe its awful, selfish and disgusting, but if Angel is going to do it anyway, he'd much rather not be around to grieve. Maybe that's better than nothing. Maybe its the best he can hope for.

"Alright. You're on," he says, holding out his hand for Angel to shake. Then he looks down at his triumphant face and laughs.

"You might regret that, you know," he says as he ruffles his hair. "I'm a stubborn bastard when I want to be."

"I know," Angel sighs. "I'm counting on it."

+++

It's the first time Angel visits his apartment, that's when Aki realises he's in love with him.

"So this is who you've been two-timing us with?" Power asks. She puts her hands on her hips as Angel looks at her blankly, then jabs a finger into his face.

"Homewrecker!" she shrieks, stamping her foot in indignity. "Harlot!"

"Power," Denji rebukes. "You should be nice to Aki's friend."

"No," Power objects, shaking her head. "Topknot does not have any other friends, not since Himeno died. Everyone knows that."

There's a moment of quiet as the words hang between them like a terrible smell. Aki thinks he could kiss Denji when he steps into fill it, scrawny chest puffed up as if he's full of hot air.

"So, Aki tells me you like ice cream." he says, leading Angel toward the kitchen.

The evening is as chaotic as expected, with Denji playing host and Power fighting to be the centre of attention in the presence of a new rival. By the end of it all there's rice all over the table and beer on the rug, Denji and Power are propped up against one another, snoring in front of the TV. Aki is barely awake when he looks over at Angel and sees something new in his eyes. The boy is sat in the armchair looking at the sleeping duo with something that Aki might have called fondness.

"You wanna get some fresh air? I'm desperate for a smoke," he says, gesturing toward the door. Angel nods and follows him out.

It's spring now and the weather is changing, Aki can smell flowers as they sit down on the bench, or at least he tells himself that he can, which is almost as good.

"So," he says, exhaling a puffy cloud. "How do you like them?"

"They're insane," Angel says and Aki laughs, which seems to please him.

"They are," Aki agrees. It's getting warmer but the night still has some bite, and he doesn't miss the way Angel shivers, tucking his fists into the sleeves of his shirt.

"Come on," he says as he holds out his arm, indicating that Angel should move closer. "I can tell you're cold."

For a moment he thinks that Angel is going to decline but then he steels himself and snuggles beside him, allowing Aki's arm to fall across his narrow chest. It's still not easy between them, this tentative contact, but Aki thinks they're getting there.

"Did I ever tell you that I used to be a lot like you?" he asks and Angel looks puzzled, his eyebrows pulling together in the middle of his forehead.

"After I lost my family, before I met Himeno and those two," Aki starts, speaking slowly, considering each word. "I was like a ghost. I didn't care if I lived or died. Then they came along and everything changed. It was complicated and it was messy and some parts of it were ugly as hell, but one day I woke up and realised that I was actually enjoying my life, they were forcing me to, wouldn't take no for an answer."

"Sounds nice," Angel says, looking confused, as if the idea of happiness doesn't make sense.

"And then the headaches got worse, dizziness, seizures," Aki shakes his head, remembering the fear and confusion of those first few months. "So many tests, so many fucking waiting rooms, and for what? They can't fix it, it's gone too far. Pain management, that's what they call it, all that they can do for me." He raises his eyebrows and shakes his head, tapping glowing ash onto the floor. "It's just my luck, to start dying as soon as I remember how to live."

Overwhelmed, Aki stops, dropping his cigarette on the floor and grinding it out with his foot. He knows that its bad to leave it there, would usually pick it up, but he's feeling vindictive, and likes the idea of lashing out at the world. The anger finds his way into his tone when he laughs.

"What a fucking joke," he chokes, resting his head in his hands.

There's a moment of quiet before Aki looks up to find Angel a few inches of his face, eyes round and sad, the closest he's ever come to expressing real emotion.

"The universe has a pretty fucked up sense of humour," he says and suddenly Aki can't stand it any more. The waiting, the wanting, the constant miserable countdown. Desperate to understand and be understood, he crushes their lips together. Angel flinches at first, pulls back, and Aki worries that he's read things wrong, but then Angel's hand is clutching at the back of his head and he's gasping into his mouth and pulling on his hair. Like a snowball that turns into an avalanche, once they've started, they can't stop and Aki pulls Angel into his lap, legs on either side of his own as he wraps his hands around his back, tasting ice cream and beer on his tongue.

The guilt hits later that night, born of darkness and quiet. He wakes from a nightmare he can't quite remember, sweating and shaking as Angel sleeps beside him, a sliver of moonlight peeking through the curtains. Thinking of their non-existent future, Aki feels sea sick. His head aches and the room spins a little but he doesn't want to get up, not when Angel's head is nestled in the crook of his arm and he can pretend that everything is going to be just fine.

Its not fair, he thinks to himself for the billionth time. He isn't asking for much. All he wants is for the people he loves to live a long and happy life. He wants that for himself too, but he doesn't dwell on that last part.

+++

If Aki's life had been different, he might have said that Angel is the most unusual person he's ever met. As things stand, he takes him as he is, doing his best to understand.

"So you don't have a job?" Aki asks him one day, as they lounge in a patch of sun on his bed. His hair is loose, hanging in a sheet around his face as Angel plays with it, braiding it and the letting it fall. These times, when they do nothing but exist, are the closest he comes to seeing him truly content. For Angel, he thinks, this is the closest thing to heaven.

"No, I don't work. I don't do anything," Angel agrees. He takes a lock of Aki's hair and runs it across his lips, all lidded eyes and milky skin. "I think I'd rather die than work."

Pushed further, Angel explains that he got an inheritance when his parents died and has been living off that since he moved away from home.

"What would you do if you didn't have the money?" Aki asks.

"Probably starve," is the nonchalant reply.

"And what about when it runs out?"

"I didn't think it would ever come to that." Angel shrugs. "I didn't think I'd still be alive."

They're quiet for a long time, skin on skin, warm breath, rumpled blankets beneath their thighs.

"Don't take this the wrong way," Aki says, his head pillowed on Angel's stomach. "But sometimes I think I think I might hate you a little bit." Lost in thought, he moves up his body, dropping a kiss on his collarbone and tapping him gently on the forehead. "Or maybe I just hate what your brain is doing to you. Does that make a difference? I don't know."

Angel doesn't move, just studies him for a moment before reaching up to touch Aki in the same spot.

"Ditto."

+++

"You know you can't save everyone on your own," Angel tells him one night. "It's impossible, you just end up exhausting yourself."

Aki doesn't think he means for it to hurt as much as he does.

"That's what you really think?" he asks, not even trying to keep the annoyance out of his tone. Angel, as usual, is unphased and looks back at him with eyes like two smooth stones.

"Yeah," he says, kicking his feet on the rough concrete of the roof. "It's like some kind of self-sacrificing compulsion. You can't help it. I don't understand it at all."

"What so you'd rather I'd just let you jump?" Aki asks. "Is that what you're trying to say?"

"Sometimes," Angel replies. "But not most of the time."

"Well, thanks," Aki spits. "I'm glad my company is tolerable most of the time."

Angel scoffs. "Denji's right," he says. "You really do have a short fuse."

"Forgive me if I don't have the luxury of a long one," Aki responds, turning away and leaning on his elbow, massaging his temples with his other hand.

"There you go again," Angel says. "Time, time, time. Sometimes I think it's all you ever talk about. I don't know how you're not bored."

As if the sound is summoned by his words, Aki notices the ticking of his watch and his whole body goes tense. He's about to respond, say something nasty, something he might regret, before Angel holds up his hand.

"That came out wrong. I didn't mean it like that. It's wasn't a criticism, you know," he says softly. "You push yourself because you're too kind. You're obsessed with how little time you have, but just look at how you spend it. You're so selfless, it's ridiculous."

"I don't know what you mean," Aki says, despite the fact that he does. He thinks of the two lost souls living in his apartment, and of the one sitting beside him now.

"I think I might be in love with you," Angel says, chewing on the end of his ice cream cone.

"Really?" Aki asks. "Doesn't seem like a smart move, all things considered."

"I know," Angel nods.

"I'm sorry about that," Aki says sadly.

"It's not your fault." Angel kisses his cheek. "Do you love me too?"

"For what it's worth," Aki says with a huff.

"Then tell me something," Angel says, scooting over to him and resting his chin on Aki's arm. "Would you still love me if you weren't trying to save me from myself?"

"You can't ask me that," Aki balks, setting a hand on his head and rubbing hard.

"What if I am?"

"I'd tell you to knock it off," Aki replies and it makes him feel guilty and cruel. They both know that he's avoiding the question because the truth is that he isn't sure.

Seemingly satisfied with this non-answer, Angel smiles and nods, snaking his way between Aki's arms and looking up into his eyes.

"I don't mind," he reassures him. "It's not your fault. I can't be angry at you for caring too much, I just worry." He cups Aki's cheek with his palm. "You're far too good for me. Maybe we should swap names."

"That's ridiculous," Aki scoffs, though he can't hide the way his cheeks burn.

"You're probably right," Angel nods. "Saint is probably like it, or martyr."

"Don't," Aki says, leaning down to rest his forehead on Angel's own.

"Your family's death wasn't your fault you know," Angel says. "It's not selfish to think of yourself for a change."

"Please stop talking," Aki snaps, burying his face in Angel's hair, distraught.

"I'm sorry," Angel says after a while, guilt laying sweetly over his tone. "I don't know why I said it like that. It didn't come out right."

"No shit," Aki responds, shaking a little as he holds him in his arms. "What did you mean to say?"

"I think I meant to say thank you," Angel says thoughtfully.

"For what?" Aki probes.

"Everything, I guess."

+++

Aki always assumed that after a terminal diagnosis, the day to day would cease to matter. He thought that he would live the remainder of his life in a sort of manic haze, sucking up every second until it were gone. That isn't how it happens and it turns out that even when facing down the end, the little things still piss him off.

"How hard is it to deliver a fucking parcel?" he spits, picking up the failed delivery notice and throwing it back down on the floor.

It was nothing important but that's not the point. It's not about the parcel, he doesn't care about the parcel at all. Pulling hard at his hair, Aki feels too warm, his skin itches and his head aches. Suddenly overwhelmed, he spins around and aims his foot at the wall, cursing when he feels his toes crunch.

"Aki?" Angel asks, having heard the commotion and come out of Aki's room. Aki ignores him, just holds onto his foot and stares.

"I'm sorry," he says, hanging his head and feeling his whole leg throb. "I don't know why I did that."

"Aki?" Angel asks again, kneeling down beside him and wrapping his arms around his knobbly knees.

"Why did you hurt yourself?" he presses, looking at the delivery slip and back to him, curled up in a pathetic heap on the floor.

"Stupid parcel didn't come," Aki replies, and lets Angel come closer, peeling his hands away from his injured foot and wrapping him up in his arms.

"I'm sorry for scaring you," Aki says. Feeling, in the wake of his outburst, strangely numb. "I kicked the wall. I didn't mean to, I'm just so…"

That's when he really breaks down. Angel does his best, rocking him and making soft shushing sounds, but it doesnt help.

"I'm really scared," Aki manages to choke out and then he waits for the relief to come. Nothing happens. Admitting it only makes everything worse.

"It'll be okay," Angel croons, though Aki can hear the lie in his tone.

He shakes his head and a tear splashes to the carpet.

"No it won't," he insists. "You know it fucking won't."

+++

Things go on, the seasons change. Summer is brutal, close and humid, and no matter how many showers Aki takes, he always feels sticky and gross. His head feels worse than ever and he's not sure if it's the cancer or the weather, or whether he really cares. Strangely enough, his deteriorating condition comes with some benefits as Denji starts cooking meals and Power finally learns to use the washing machine.

"You're that excited that she did the laundry?" Angel questions as they sit on their bench. His hair is in a sloppy ponytail that pokes out of a blue baseball cap. "That's a pretty low bar. Even I can do that."

Months after their first meeting, they're still keeping to their deal, an ice cream every evening in exchange for Angel's life. Today he's wearing a lose white t-shirt and denim shorts that ride up to expose the red and white scars that criss-cross the tops of his thighs.

"You're right," Aki agrees, having swapped his usual cigarette for an ice lolly to combat the heat. "But it's something. It makes me worry less about what's gonna happen to them."

When I'm gone is implied, but its every bit as loud as if he shouted it at the top of his lungs. They can all see the fact that he's getting worse.

"Will you look after them for me?" he asks. "Make sure they're okay."

Angel stiffens, clenching his jaw and avoiding Aki's gaze.

"You know I can't promise you that," he says.

"Please," Aki pleads, and they both know what he's really asking for.

"You can't ask me that. It's not fair."

"What if I am?" Aki pushes. "What if I beg?"

"Don't." Angel shuts him down, tilting his cap to hide his face.

+++

The next day, for the first time since they met, Angel doesn't show up at the usual time. Five minutes slip by and then ten, twenty, and the second hand on Aki's watch is beating like a death drum. That day's ice cream is caramel, and he throws it in frustration when it starts to drip down his finger, leaving a sticky splotch on the concrete. The sun seems to mock him as he takes off across the rooftop, tasting blood as he runs down the stairs and knocks on Angel's door.

"Angel," he says, balling his hands into fists at his side and digging his fingernails into his palms. Then he tries the door handle and is shocked to find it open. There's music playing in the bedroom and he tells himself, prays, that Angel just fell asleep, that he didn't hear him, that he hasn't done what Aki thinks he's done.

Aki is half right, meaning that Angel is half way there when he opens the bedroom door. He's wearing his pajamas and kneeling in the centre of the floor. His left arm is held out straight in front of him, his right hand pressing a razor blade to his wrist.

"Angel," Aki says softly, trying to stay calm. Slowly, like he's moving through water, Angel looks up and him and blinks, then looks back down. He doesn't seem upset, just tired, and somehow that makes it worse.

"Angel," Aki says, edging closer and kneeling down. "Give me the razor."

Compliant and docile, Angel does as he's told, dropping the sliver of metal into his palm as Aki sags forward in relief.

"Fuck," Aki says, closing his fingers around the blade and clutching it to his chest. "How could you?" he asks. "We made a deal, you promised. You don't go before me, remember? You promised."

"I wasn't going to do it," Angel says softly. "It was just a test, I needed to check."

"Check what?" Aki pleads, throwing the blade across the room before reaching out and pulling Angel into his arms. He takes shuddering breaths and rocks them softly, still shaky from shock.

"Whether I still want to die," Angel responds.

"And?" Aki asks, pulling back and looking into his eyes.

"I'm not sure anymore."

+++

Things are difficult for a while after that. Aki is nervous, paranoid. He needs Angel with him at all times and panics when he's not.

"Where the hell were you?" he shouts when Angel comes home one night. In turn, Angel looks back at him strangely, a trace of fear in his eyes.

"Just seven eleven," he says, holding up a bag. "Aki, it's only been half an hour."

"No," Aki refuses. "That's not right." But it is, and the realisation makes him cry.

He takes more meds, has mood swings, loses time. There are insects in his skull and knitting needles behind his eyes. Denji, Power and Angel do what they can but all that does is make it worse. Looking after them was his purpose. Now even that is slipping away.

Aki doesn't realise he's been saying any of that out loud, foggy from painkillers and distress, but when he looks up, Denji looks pained.

"What?" Aki asks, smiling at him.

"You don't think that do you?" Denji asks. "None of that matters, you idiot."

"Really?" Aki asks, raising one eyebrow. He looks around to see that he's on the sofa but he doesn't remember how he got there. He thinks that should matter, but he's too exhausted to care.

"Yeah," Denji nods furiously, throwing himself across the sofa and landing on top of him, hands around his shoulders. "You've always looked after us, so now it's our turn to look after you. Okay?"

"Thanks," Aki replies. "That means a lot."

+++

Summer ends and autumn comes around. Aki thinks he likes autumn most of all, when Angel's colours are splashed across the whole world . He can't get out as much as he'd like to, confined to his house by his failing heath, but they do their best. They go to ramen shops and bars, to the cinema and the book store. Piece by piece Aki wraps up the world and tucks it into his pocket. Winter is coming soon, he thinks as he watches the leaves fall, but the thought doesn't scare him as much as it did once.

It's a warm Sunday when he and Angel decide to take a long walk, catching the train out of the city to tramp through a forest side by side.

"You remember the night we first met?" Aki says when they stop for a rest. He's playing with a deep red maple leaf, brushing his fingertips along its prongs.

"Of course I do," Angel scoffs.

"You told me that if you could give me the rest of your life, you would."

"But I can't," Angel says sadly, smiling when Aki tucks the leaf behind his ear.

"Well that's where you're wrong," Aki says and enjoys Angel's look of confusion, his skin tinted orange by the foliage above their heads."I figured out a way. You can give me the rest of your life by living it for me, by taking those years and making them something good."

"Aki," Angel warns.

"Just listen okay?" Aki begs and tentatively, Angel nods his head.

"I wanna make you one last deal. I'll give you the rest of my life, and you give me the rest of yours. A trade. Fair and square."

For a moment it looks like Angel is going to refuse, but then his expression cracks into a wobbly smile.

"Okay, fine. It's a deal," he says, taking Aki's hand. "But what happens if you don't die?"

"What if I don't die?" Aki contemplates. "Well, I guess we'll just have to live forever."

+++