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Chapter Text

"Nagisa," Haruka breathed, and the name charred his tongue. It had been years since he'd spoken it, but it felt like mere days had passed since he last saw the bright smile of the person it belonged to, the lively spark in those magenta eyes.

Of all the people he expected to run into on the school's stairwell, Nagisa was at the bottom of the list. His appearance was a thunderstorm on a cloudless day; lightning striking like a punch straight to Haruka's gut, indenting his body. Because Nagisa didn't just carry himself around, he also brought along a flood of memories Haruka had locked away deep inside his heart.

Memories of swimming with his friends, carefree and ignorant of the battles awaiting him; times when he could get annoyed with Makoto for his endless kindness, that never failed to get him roped into loads of undesirable situations Haruka always got caught up in too. Times when he could celebrate winning a relay he hadn't even wanted to participate in, when he could get mad at Rin for abruptly fleeing the country right after, and when he could feel guilty for the result of an impromptu race he didn't mean to be a part of. Times when he felt like his affinity for the water was a burden that made his friend claim he'd give up on his dreams.

None of these things had crossed his mind since Makoto's diagnosis, but the sight of Nagisa shoved them right back into his face. In hindsight, it was all so childish, so trivial. He remembered feeling helpless and empty, like he was at an all-time low he would never recover from. Like things could never get worse than they were at that point. Little had he known they very much could.

He didn't intend to brush off the feelings he harboured back then. He was a child and the impact of those incidents was real, scorching a lasting mark on his tender soul. But now, he was older and had experienced grief, true and deeply-rooted grief beyond his thirteen-year-old self's comprehension. He'd trade places with that version of himself any day because the guilt he felt towards Rin was nowhere near as bad as the pain he felt concerning Makoto.

And perhaps, a time would come when he'd be envious of this Haruka too, because at least this Haruka still had Makoto. He didn't want to think about that possibility.

"It's been forever! From now on, I'll be joining you here at Iwatobi High!"

Haruka's inner turmoil didn't show on his face, for Nagisa rambled on excitedly with his smile ever-bright and radiant. But then, the elephant in the stairwell was noticed at last and Nagisa faltered.

"Wait, I thought Mako-chan went to this school too?"

That was the second blow to Haruka's abdomen. Nagisa didn't know. He didn't know.

Haruka opened his mouth to reply, but all the words got stuck in his hoarse throat. "He… he does," he managed to get out, but he didn't get the chance to elaborate before Nagisa blabbered on.

"Where is he then?" An exaggerated gasp followed, eyes widening in shock. "No way! You're still friends, right?"

"Wha- Of course we are," Haruka defended, almost insulted by the notion they wouldn't be. "He-"

"Oh, thank goodness! You scared me there for a second, Haru-chan," Nagisa sighed as he placed his hand on his chest to calm his disturbed heart. There was no gap for Haruka to claim he hadn't said anything that insinuated Makoto's and his friendship had been broken before Nagisa continued. "Is he sick or something?"

With that, Nagisa hit the nail right on the head. And he had no idea.

"Well, yes," Haruka said, but the thoughts he needed to explain to what extent Makoto's sickness went evaporated. A lump formed to constrict his windpipe, because he couldn't get himself to say it aloud. He hadn't said it in so long his vocal cords forgot the vibrations.

"We should go visit him after school!" Nagisa suggested, still beaming, "I haven't seen him in years, and he must be lonely. Oh, and we should bring him a gift, like oranges, or chocolate! He loves chocolate, right? Should we bring some medicine too just in ca-"

"Nagisa," Haruka interrupted, raising his voice to drown out Nagisa's, and it rang throughout the stairwell with an eerie coldness.

He had always deemed Nagisa to be rather perceptive, but the severity of the situation hadn't crashed down upon him, on the contrary. In his eyes, Makoto was stranded at home because of a common cold, perhaps a mild fever. But he couldn't blame him, because whose mind would go to a potentially fatal illness when discussing the reason behind their teenage friend's absence?

He couldn't avoid the inevitable forever and the more Nagisa talked, the tighter the knot in his stomach grew. To get this over with as quickly as possible, he took a deep breath before he said, "Makoto has cancer."

As Nagisa absorbed the phrase, the word that turned every room gloomy upon its pronunciation, the cheery expression dripped off his face. His mouth remained open in the wake of the suggestions that died out on his tongue and his thick blond eyebrows twisted in disbelief. "What? You're joking, right?"

If only he was.

Haruka shook his head, repressing the tears that fought their way to his eyes whenever he verbally acknowledged Makoto's situation. He wouldn't allow himself to cry. Not here, not now. The stairwell was rather crowded, new students using their lunch break to familiarise themselves with the school's layout. This wasn't the setting for a conversation like this. Haruka owed Nagisa a proper explanation.

"Come on," he said as he climbed up to the roof in the hopes of finding some peace there; his appetite had long since exited the building. He didn't look back, but could sense Nagisa following closely behind him, almost as if entranced.

A handful of classmates shared his idea, but the spring breeze drowned out their distant chattering. Briefly, he made eye-contact with a girl sitting on a blanket next to a friend. Under any other circumstances he might've recognised her fiery irises, but as they both turned their heads away, she immediately vanished from his mind.

With a chest filled with rocks, Haruka rested his arms on the stone railing surrounding the edge of the roof, staring out at the ocean. If he focused hard enough on how the sunlight danced on the crashing waves, perhaps it could appease the storm raging inside.

Nagisa leaned down beside him. Sensing the gravity of the situation, he didn't press on like he usually would've, instead waited until Haruka was ready to tell him.

After a pause to build up some courage, Haruka started, "Makoto was diagnosed with leukemia last October."

"Leukemia?"

"Blood cancer," he clarified, but he didn't meet Nagisa's penetrating stare. "It's in his whole body."

A tense silence fell between them. After a while, Haruka began to doubt whether Nagisa was still standing beside him, if he'd ever been real at all or just a new variation of the cruel nightmares that liked to plague him. When he peered out of the corner of his eye, he could see Nagisa gnawing on his lips. Head filled with questions, afraid to ask them, nowhere to go.

"How was it found out?" he settled on, deciding it to be an appropriate opening to this horrific tale. "You know, what made you all realise something was wrong?"

Haruka blinked a couple of times as he tried to recall it. He often went back to the rosy times before Makoto's diagnosis, but never to the first breadcrumbs that led them to it. "Around the end of September, I noticed something was off. Small things at first, that I didn't think anything of at the time, but as more weird things started happening, it was obvious something was wrong."

"Like what?"

"Constant fatigue, random bruises he couldn't explain, nausea and loss of appetite, excessive sweating, things like that." With every example, dread built in his gut like it had gradually done over that awful week in September too. "He kept brushing off everyone's concerns, saying he was fine and we didn't have anything to worry about."

A weak smile appeared on Nagisa's face. "That sounds like Mako-chan."

Haruka huffed and nodded. That was the sole side of Makoto he couldn't stand. If they had listened to his excuses and pleas, his illness might have never been discovered; he would've succumbed to it before anyone would know what was going on, or at least postponed his diagnosis until he was terminal. Good thing Haruka hadn't believed that absolute idiot.

"When he suddenly got this nosebleed that wouldn't stop, I knew something was really wrong. I talked to his mother about it and she said she'd been worried about him too and agreed to take him to the doctor as soon as possible. He got diagnosed with acute lymphocytic leukemia less than a week later."

"Wow," Nagisa shuddered, rubbing his arms over his blazer to will the goosebumps away. For a moment, it fell quiet as Nagisa gazed into the horizon too, wind tousling his blond locks as he gathered his thoughts. "How is he doing now? He's getting treatment, right?"

"He's… okay. He's been in and out of the hospital ever since, and he's currently undergoing his third round of chemo."

The wavering tone of Haruka's voice didn't go unnoticed. "That's good, isn't it? Doesn't that mean he's going to get better?" Nagisa tried, forcing hope into his voice and putting on a faux smile.

There it was again. That same question everyone asked when discussing a cancer patient. Haruka wasn't clairvoyant, but even if he'd had a crystal ball, he still wouldn't dare look in it. To others, the question might've been tinged with hope, a prospect of a bright future, but over the past couple of months, Haruka's hope had dwindled while despair brewed up.

Therefore, he wanted to cease thinking about the two options lying at Makoto's feet and instead focus on living in the moment. He'd never forgive himself if he spent the last period of Makoto's life lamenting about the impending rather than making the most of what he had.

But that was only nice in theory, for it proved itself to be an impossible feat. Especially on days like these, when he was already struggling to keep up the façade and Nagisa confronted him with the unavoidable predicament.

So Haruka didn't say anything, didn't as much as look at Nagisa, and let the silence that fell between them reign.

For the rest of their lunch period, not a word was exchanged. They simply stood side by side in the silence of Makoto's absence, watching the seagulls soar by until the bell rang to coax them back to their classrooms.

The wound Nagisa tore open continued to bleed for the remainder of the day. Nothing could hold his attention for longer than a second: not the Japanese literature lecture, not the documentary about the Edo period his history teacher played, not even the butterfly that landed on the windowsill beside his seat. The relief he felt when the school day was finally over outweighed the guilt of not taking many notes for Makoto. Now, he could go see him again, to sit beside his bed rather than a jarringly empty chair.

Before he could step out of the classroom, though, the teacher called him over. When he stood before him, a USB drive was pressed into his hands.

"Will you please give this to Tachibana-kun?" Sato-sensei said, "It contains the video I showed, so he won't miss out on anything."

"Thank you," Haruka said and it scooped a bit of guilt off the ever-piling mountain. "I'll make sure to return it once he has seen it."

"It's alright, there's no haste," Sato-sensei assured with a kind smile stretching his moustache-covered lips.

Although he never had a particular interest in history, he'd heard Sato-sensei was known for presenting his lessons with gentle wisdom, the kind that couldn't be conveyed through textbooks solely - most likely because he was so old he'd lived through most of what he taught. He seemed to be understanding of Makoto's situation too; Haruka assumed all teachers would be, but not everyone was willing to go the extra mile to make sure Makoto got the full classroom-experience like Sato-sensei was. That was greatly appreciated.

Thinking that would be the end of it, Haruka nodded to his teacher in gratitude and went to walk away, but a wrinkled hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"Oh, and Nanase-kun," he said and his smile turned apologetic, beady eyes full of sympathy. "If you ever feel the need to step outside during my class, please don't hesitate to. My wife passed away of cancer a few years ago, so I understand what you're going through. If you want to talk about it, my door is always open, okay?"

Sato-sensei meant to comfort him, he knew that, but his words poured more salt into the gaping wound because they reinforced his fears. People died of cancer every day. Why would Makoto be the exception, one of the few lucky enough to withstand its destructiveness? That was a thought that hadn't stopped haunting him from the moment it was first forced into his mind.

Still, he couldn't target the world's unfairness to the teacher who meant well, who lived his reality and ended up getting tails instead of heads. Not when he sincerely hoped Makoto's coin toss would result in the success his wife hadn't been lucky enough to receive.

"Thank you, I'll… keep that in mind."

Within an instant, Sato-sensei's expression morphed back to a chipper one, but Haruka could detect its false nature. It was a front to ward off his own emotions, for his woes would consume him if he let them in for too long.

Haruka wondered if he'd have to learn to put on that mask too, but deep down, he knew could never play pretend like his teacher could, like millions of people around the world could. He simply wasn't strong enough.

"Then I won't keep you up any longer." Sato-sensei yanked him from his thoughts with a firm but friendly pat on his shoulder. "Perhaps, if you have the chance, you can watch the documentary together with Tachibana-kun."

Feeling somewhat caught, Haruka averted his eyes and nodded. He made a slight bow to Sato-sensei in gratitude before he left the classroom, tucking the USB drive into his bag as he weaved through the hallways.

But when he got downstairs, he was awarded yet another prompt slap in the face - he'd lost count at this point.

Nagisa stood beside his locker, bouncing around on his feet like an impatient nymph. When he spotted Haruka, the beaming grin returned and he excitedly waved him over. "Haru-chan!"

It wasn't like he hated Nagisa's appearance. Despite the years that had passed, he still considered Nagisa a dear friend. He just couldn't have picked a worse day to barge back into Haruka's life; Nagisa's bubbly, happy-go-lucky attitude, though endearing, could be exhausting at times. Haruka couldn't afford for any more of his energy to be drained from his body, otherwise he might not make it home tonight.

Nevertheless, he walked up to Nagisa - partly because he couldn't leave without his shoes, partly because Nagisa would surely run after him if he acted like he hadn't seen him and stalked off. He bid him a nod as he began to switch his shoes.

"You're finally here! I've been waiting so long, I almost thought I missed you," Nagisa said, and it seemed he had recovered completely from the leukemia-bomb Haruka dropped on him earlier. "What took you so long?"

"I was talking to a teacher," Haruka said automatically, like a child apologising to their parent for staying out past dark.

"Well, we better hurry up, or else we might miss the next train."

"Miss the next train? To where?" As far as he recalled, he hadn't agreed to go anywhere with Nagisa.

"To the hospital," Nagisa said as if that much should've been obvious, "We're going to visit Mako-chan."

Haruka's jaw clenched, unsure of how to respond. "I don't know if that's a good idea," he started, hesitant to disappoint him, "Makoto is really sick and-"

"Oh, come on," Nagisa interrupted, "I'll be very calm and quiet, I promise."

While he didn't doubt his sincerity, he knew how easily Nagisa lost track of his demeanour when his enthusiasm took over. He didn't think Nagisa would ravage through the hospital like a whirlwind on a sugar rush, but Haruka wasn't sure whether Makoto would be able to handle his animated nature if he was feeling particularly unwell. Similarly to the twins, Nagisa's visit might wear him down considerably.

"If he asks me to leave, I will," Nagisa said, his childlike excitement replaced with a wistful smile as he stared at his feet. "He's my friend, and I want to see him. I want him to know I'm here for him."

Makoto would never ask anyone to leave, especially not when they came to show their support. He'd never tell anyone not to come either, so who was Haruka to decide who could and couldn't go visit him? If anything, Makoto would be delighted to see Nagisa again. There was no reason to deny them a reunion. He didn't have the right to.

Still, there were other things he needed to consider before he could let Nagisa storm into Makoto's room. "Have you been sick lately? You can't risk-"

"I'm healthy as ever; haven't had a cold in months, I swear!" Nagisa said, "So please."

Haruka sighed. "I'll ask him if he's feeling well enough for you to come along," he relented, and he put his indoor shoes back into his locker before he dug through his bag in search for his phone.

Instantly, the smile was back on Nagisa's face. "Oh, don't tell him I'm coming! I want to surprise him."

Haruka rolled his eyes in something he wouldn't admit to be fondness, but complied. 'How are you feeling? Is it okay if I bring someone?'

Within less than thirty seconds, Makoto's reply came. 'I'm fine, thanks!' Of course he was. 'Sure! Who are you bringing?'

'It's a surprise.'

Ten minutes later, they were riding the train towards the hospital. Fortunately, there had been some free seats; Haruka's legs felt like they were infused with lead and he'd surely topple over if the train took an abrupt turn.

The entire way, Nagisa had chattered on about anything and everything that came to mind and didn't stop once they'd gotten onto the crowded train. In fact, he'd engrossed himself even deeper in his own tale, gesticulating so wildly everyone surrounding them had taken two steps backwards to avoid getting hit.

"And then, I just kept eating and eating, and that's how I beat my personal best!"

Haruka tried his best to follow his incohesive story but was distracted by the scenery rolling by and lost track of what event Nagisa was retelling.

"And now, I can eat three square meals per meal!"

As if on cue, Haruka's stomach rumbled, like it wanted to remind him he had already missed two out of the three required meals that day. It startled him, and suddenly, the gnawing feeling he'd been pushing back since that morning got more prominent.

"Are you hungry, Haru-chan?" Nagisa asked, turning his neck to look at Haruka. "Ah, you missed out on lunch, too, right? Here." Out of his bag, he pulled two long sandwiches - if they could be called that: they were filled with Lord only knew what and each had a head resembling their town mascot, Iwatobi-chan. "Tada!"

"What is that?"

"Iwatobi Cream Bread!" Nagisa said in a mixture of excitement and confusion. "It's a specialty of our school."

A mere two days had passed since Nagisa enrolled in Iwatobi High, but he was more familiar with the cafeteria menu than Haruka was - which wasn't odd, given Nagisa's love for food and Haruka's preference to make his own lunch.

"It has strawberry jam, whipped cream, marmalade and even chocolate!" Nagisa continued, shoving the bread in Haruka's face, "All for just 480 yen!"

Although it wasn't a tiny sandwich by any means, Haruka still found that quite pricey; he'd rather spend that kind of money on a mackerel instead.

"Do you want some?" Nagisa tore open one of the bags. "I wanted to get one for Mako-chan too, but these were the last two they had so I was going to give him one of mine, but you can have it if you want."

Haruka's eyes darted through the loaded compartment. "Are you going to eat it here?"

"What? I'm hungry!" Nagisa whined at Haruka's semi-judgemental question. "I didn't have lunch either."

Admittedly, it was a miracle Nagisa had been able to withstand the loud roars of his ever-empty stomach for this long - perhaps Makoto's situation got to him more than he wanted to show. But that didn't change the fact this wasn't the most appropriate place to stuff his face. The least he could do was wait until they were at the hospital.

For Nagisa, hunger triumphed over etiquette, and he crudely ripped off Iwatobi-chan's head. He held out the body, that leaked a mixture of jam and marmalade out of the freshly severed end. Despite his tendency to dig in straight away, he granted Haruka the first bite.

After a second of contemplation, Haruka accepted Nagisa's offer, not minding the disapproving looks it earned him; scowls were already shot at them earlier, might as well give people a reason to scowl.

The flavours of artificial strawberry and orange intermingled in his mouth and combined with the whipped cream and the hint of chocolate, it was far too sweet for Haruka's liking. While his tongue - and teeth, that nearly burst with cavities from the explosion of sugar - wasn't too fond of this particular food, his stomach was relieved to have something to digest.

That being said, Haruka was sure Makoto would enjoy the taste of this Iwatobi-chan much more than he did, and he didn't want to eat something this expensive when someone else would appreciate it more. Therefore, he turned down the rest of the bread. For then, that one bite would have to suffice until he got his hands on something more substantial.

Before Haruka could as much as blink, the bread was gone and Nagisa was licking the excess chocolate from his fingers. There was no time for him to be surprised, as the train came to a screeching halt and Nagisa jumped up.

"Come on, Haru-chan!"

Haruka frowned. "Where are you going? This isn't our stop."

"Yes, it is."

"No, it's not." Haruka had been to the hospital about a hundred times already and rode this train nearly every time, and he was fairly certain they were three stops away from it. Unless Nagisa intended to walk the rest of the way, this definitely wasn't their stop.

"It is," Nagisa pressed on, and he grabbed his arm and roughly tugged him out of the train before the doors could close. Once they were standing on the platform, he explained, "We can't go to the hospital empty-handed. We need to bring him a gift!"

Haruka huffed at the detour. "You could've gotten something at the hospital's gift shop."

"Do you know how expensive those shops are?" Nagisa argued, which was rich coming from someone who just spent 960 yen on bread. "Not that Mako-chan's not worth it, but I'd rather get him three times the amount of chocolate for half the price at a convenience store."

He did have a point, so Haruka let himself be dragged along by the arm. "It's not like he can eat that much anyway," he mumbled, but with all the ruckus surrounding them, Nagisa probably hadn't heard him.

They zigzagged through the flock as they entered the busy shopping street. Haruka had to constantly steer himself else Nagisa's recklessly hurried pace would've made him collide with numerous people. While Haruka didn't mean to dawdle, at this rate he was going to be wheezing and panting before they even got to a store, let alone the hospital.

Then, Nagisa abruptly stopped in his tracks and Haruka, unable to slow down his momentum, crashed into him. Nagisa didn't seem bothered by this in the slightest, for a million different things ran through his mind that Haruka couldn't keep up with. "Does Mako-chan like beef or pork?"

His eyebrows furrowed. "What?"

"Beef or pork, which does Mako-chan like?"

"He likes both, I guess," Haruka shrugged, not sure why it was relevant.

"But which does he prefer?"

"I don't know," he mumbled, but judging by his insistent tone, Nagisa wouldn't take that for an answer. "Pork?"

"And what about you?"

He preferred fish over meat so he'd never given it much thought before, but he would've if he knew it mattered this much. "Me too, I guess?"

"Wait here." As soon as he said that, Nagisa turned around and stalked off. He was quick and light on his feet, and Haruka easily lost sight of him between the masses.

Scanning the street, he eventually saw him standing at the window of a shop selling steamed meat buns. His blond locks danced around his head as he held up three fingers and magicked his wallet from thin air. The sight of it made Haruka's heart swell with fondness. Even after all those years, Nagisa hadn't changed a bit.

He returned to Haruka with two paper-wrapped buns in hand, the third one safely tucked away in his mustard yellow bag, and gave him one. "My treat," he said before Haruka could ask him how much it was.

"Thanks." In spite of everything, the corners of Haruka's lips rose. "Can we go now?"

"Not yet, I still don't have a gift."

"But-"

"This isn't a gift," Nagisa claimed, beckoning a frown to Haruka's face. "This is an after-school snack."

Haruka sighed. He should've expected that much. Rather than trying to argue Nagisa's logic, which would be futile anyway, he took a big bite of his bun. It was quite tasty; the combining factors of his nagging stomach and the lingering flavours of the Iwatobi Cream Bread made this one of, if not the best steamed buns he'd ever had. Pork definitely was the right choice.

They quickly finished up their 'after-school snacks' before they went into a supermarket of Nagisa's choosing. There, he led Haruka through the aisles and picked out a bag of small apples, tangerines, and a couple of different chocolate bars.

"He's not going to be able to eat all of that," Haruka said when they were heading towards the register. Makoto used to be a big eater, but even when he was healthy, there'd be no way he could handle the Iwatobi Cream Bread, the steamed pork bun, plus everything Nagisa was purchasing now at once.

But Nagisa waved his warning off. "He doesn't have to eat all of it now. Besides, it's the thought that counts." When the cashier told him his total, Nagisa whipped out his wallet again and clenched his teeth when he saw what was - or wasn't - inside. He clapped his hands together. "Haru-chan, can I borrow some money? I spent most of what I had on the bread and the buns."

Haruka had to resist rolling his eyes like he was tempted to do at every other thing Nagisa said and did, but took out his own wallet all the same.

"I promise I'll pay you back tomorrow," Nagisa said, but Haruka shook his head.

"It's fine." He told himself it was because these were gifts for Makoto, but deep down he knew he would've done it all the same had they not been. "You treated me to the pork bun."

"Thanks, you're a lifesaver!"

Ignoring his cheers so he wouldn't get flustered, Haruka paid while Nagisa stuffed everything into his bag. Pork, apples and tangerines, the monstrous concoction that was the Iwatobi Cream Bread, what an interesting scent must've seeped into the leather after that day.

"Need anything else?" Haruka asked once they were outside.

"No, we can go now," Nagisa said, "Unless there's something you still wanted to get him?"

Those words, though not that strange, baffled Haruka. In all the months he'd been visiting Makoto at the hospital, he hadn't brought him a single gift - minus his birthday presents, but those didn't count. All he ever brought was heaps of homework and misery.

But of course Haruka had never brought him a gift; giving gifts when visiting was meant for sick visits. He wasn't visiting his sick friend. He was visiting his friend who happened to be sick, who happened to reside at the hospital for the time being rather than at home. Why would he bring a random gift if he never had when he went over to see Makoto in the past? A gift would be an acknowledgement of that which he'd been suppressing since the start.

So he simply shook his head and trudged behind Nagisa as they went back to the train station.

During the short train-ride, Haruka sent Makoto a quick text so he could make sure he was ready before they arrived. But when Nagisa and he were standing in front of the door of infamous room number 12, Haruka was the one who wasn't ready.

His hand, that would always reach out to open the door like he was at home, hesitated. For these past couple of months, his routine had been the same and now, it had been changed, twisted, broken. Who was to say Nagisa's return, spring's return wouldn't have an impact on who he found behind this door?

"Haru-chan?"

Nagisa's voice shattered his demons and he let out a big sigh. When had he gotten this melodramatic? The thoughts coursing through his head had long since stopped being his own.

Pushing past his baseless worries, Haruka stepped into the room and Nagisa huddled after him. Instant relief flowed through his veins at the sight his eyes drank in.

Makoto was sitting upright in his bed, blue and brown hat concealing his scalp and reading glasses framing his evergreen eyes, that were focused on the novel perched up on his knees. Sheltered between his arm and his body, the orca plush laid securely against his chest, snout resting on his shirt-covered heart. A dash of colour tinged his cheeks and a hint of a smile curled his lips as he absorbed the story. Sunlight poured through the yellow curtains and bathed him in an ethereal glow, like he was the focal point of a magnificent oil painting, tranquil and serene.

Not a day went by in which he wasn't beautiful, but today, he looked good - better.

Perhaps, one of the sources of Haruka's anxiety had been Nagisa after all. A part of him feared the first glimpse he'd catch of Makoto in years would be on a day he appeared to be on the verge of death. Seeing your beloved friend inside a hospital bed was not a heartwarming picture to begin with; Nagisa didn't deserve to be tormented by the images that wouldn't leave Haruka alone. So he was glad, not only for Makoto and himself, that Makoto wasn't lying when he wrote he was feeling fine.

Before Haruka could open his mouth for a greeting, Nagisa - who had been hiding behind him - spoke up when he realised Makoto hadn't noticed them yet. "Mako-chan."

Tugged from the scene, Makoto returned to the room and looked up at the call of his name - or rather, a nickname he hadn't heard in years. A frown contorted the skin on his soft brow ridge, then his eyes widened. "Nagisa?"

A wide grin split Nagisa's cheeks. "Surprise," he said, the word uncharacteristically low in volume. "It's been forever. You wear glasses now?"

Makoto smiled to match, a smile so genuine and joyous Haruka had no regrets about letting Nagisa tag along. "Just reading glasses." As if to prove it, Makoto took them off and bent the hinges, placing them along with his book onto his bedside table.

With outstretched arms, Nagisa walked over to the bed, which Makoto readily replied to by drawing him in for a hug. In that regard, Nagisa was similar to the twins, too.

"What are you doing here?" Makoto asked when they pulled back. "I haven't seen you since the swim club shut down."

"That's because I went to a different school," Nagisa said, hopping onto the foot end of Makoto's bed. "But now I'm back to join you at Iwatobi High!"

"That's great!" Makoto said, "I'm really glad to see you again. How've you been?"

"We'll get to that in a second, but first things first! Are you hungry?"

"Hm?"

Shrugging his bag off his shoulders, Nagisa opened the clutch and took out Makoto's gifts and lunch and after-school snack. "Here!"

Everything was handed to Makoto at once and half of it spilled through his thinned forearms onto his lap. "What's all of this?"

The question was rhetorical in nature, but Nagisa blabbered on nonetheless. "These are apples and tangerines, this is Iwatobi Cream Bread - filled with strawberry jam and marmalade -, these are bars of chocolate - I hope you like the flavours -, and this is a steamed pork bun. Would you rather have had a beef bun?"

"No, pork is fine," Makoto said, mouth hanging agape ever so slightly before it softened into a smile again. "Thank you, Nagisa, but you didn't have to get me all these things. I don't know if I can-"

"You don't have to eat all of it now," Nagisa assured, "Just, so you have some snacks. I can't imagine what the hospital food must taste like!" He made a face at the thought and Makoto chuckled.

"It's not as bad as you might think," Makoto brushed off, but considering the twinkle of joy that would liven up his tired eyes whenever his mother brought some leftovers from home, he was being gentle on the hospital's supplier. "But thanks. I really appreciate this. It all looks so good, I don't know where to start!"

"I would start with the bun," Haruka said as he plopped down into his chair, discarding his bag on the chair beside it. "It's good, and it would be a waste if it got cold."

"Right." Leaving only the paper bag with the bun on his lap, Makoto piled the rest of the goods onto his bedside table too. He didn't waste a second before he dug into the treat. His face lit up with glee and his eyes squeezed shut in delight as he chewed. "Ah, you're right," he repeated. "It really is good. I haven't had a steamed bun in so long, so this is great. Thanks!"

Nagisa flashed him a toothy smile as he swung his legs, accidentally kicking the underside of Makoto's bed, but Makoto kept smiling as he took another bite. The fact that something this simplistic was able to bring such a joyous expression to Makoto's face made Haruka's gut wrench.

Not once had he thought to bring Makoto a snack throughout his stay here, while they often used to get something, a popsicle or a roasted sweet potato, when they walked home together in the afternoons. Granted, Haruka hadn't gotten himself those snacks either - he was more prone to skipping meals alongside Makoto lately rather than indulging himself - because usually, these things were Makoto's initiative. They didn't cross his mind anymore, and even if they did, he was sure it wouldn't taste the same if he didn't split the other half with Makoto.

Perhaps he should start getting snacks to share with Makoto again; many things had changed, but maybe, some things didn't have to if they wouldn't let them. Even if Makoto couldn't eat nearly as much as he did in the past, one bite might make the difference between a forced smile and a genuine one.

"So, how have you been?" Makoto asked when most of his bun was gone. "What have you been up to since the swim club shut down?"

"Not much, to be honest." Nagisa averted his eyes, twiddled with his thumbs. "After elementary, my parents picked a private school for me to attend and it didn't have a swim club, so I spent most of my time studying."

Something Haruka could only describe as melancholy coated his tone, contrasting the smile painting his lips. Although he had grown so much since Haruka last saw him, Nagisa still wore his heart on his sleeve. He might've tried to hide it, but his exuberance had ebbed away.

"It was pretty boring, honestly," he mentioned with a shrug; he wasn't someone who felt sorry for himself, but the droplets of self-pity he did have probably made him feel guilty. Whatever hardships he endured in middle school were minor itches compared to what Makoto went through since their last goodbye - though that didn't invalidate Nagisa's struggles. "So when I graduated, my parents allowed me to come to Iwatobi High because I knew you guys were enrolled there. I was really looking forward to swimming with you again."

"Well, I'm happy you're back, but our school doesn't have a swim club either," Makoto said, but then his voice grew small, "And even if it did, I can't swim anyway. Not right now, at least."

"You have breaks from being in the hospital right? I get that you can't swim competitively anymore, but if you're at home, can't you swim for fun every once in a while? Like at an indoor pool or something?"

"I do get breaks, but…"

"Even if he's at home, he still can't swim," Haruka interrupted, because Makoto would sugarcoat the harsh truth so to not make Nagisa feel bad. "Pools are full of germs, he'd get sick before he even got into the water. And even if they weren't, he doesn't have the stamina to swim anymore."

Nagisa closed his mouth, pursing it in a thin line as he looked back to his lap. "And what about you, Haru-chan?" he asked after a moment of silence, and it sounded like it was his eleven-year-old self speaking.

That made Haruka turn his head away. He quit swimming competitively when he won the race from Rin, and he quit swimming leisurely when Makoto fell ill. There was no point in diving off the starting block if he wouldn't be greeted with an outstretched hand and a warm smile when his fingers pruned. "I don't swim anymore."

Under any other circumstances, Nagisa would've whined. Pressed on. Asked why he stopped and begged him to come back. But now, he didn't.

The strained silence that remained didn't sit well with Makoto. "Well maybe, if I get better, we can swim again sometime," he said, ever afraid to disappoint. "Right, Haru?"

'If' I get better. "Yeah."

Makoto had always been like this. The glue that kept their friendships together. Even when people approached him first, they wouldn't stick around unless Makoto was there too. He was the pillar, the one who made sure everyone was happy and getting along nicely, while all Haruka did was care for himself. Perhaps, if Makoto had been there that winter's day, things would've turned out differently with Rin too. That was mere speculation.

What he did know for sure was that if Makoto were to disappear, he wouldn't have anyone left.

"Oh, that reminds me," Nagisa said, pulling Haruka from his troublesome thoughts, "Have you heard? Our old swim club is going to be torn down soon."

"What, really?"

Makoto spoke Haruka's mind. The swim club went out of business years ago, so in that regard, it wasn't surprising the building was going to be demolished sooner or later. And yet, the idea of a place that held countless memories being wiped clear stung. A lot. Almost as if the wrecker's ball would smash through a piece of Makoto and him, or at least a piece of their history. He'd never thought of himself as a sentimental person, but it felt as if fractions of Makoto were scattered around Iwatobi, and he wouldn't be able to hold onto those if they got erased alongside him.

"Yeah," Nagisa continued, "The site's going to be used to build a health resort. So I was thinking we should go before the construction work starts."

"To dig up the time capsule?" Makoto asked.

Nagisa nodded, his blond waves bouncing around his head. "I know we said we wouldn't dig it up until we were older, but, you know, we might not have the opportunity again."

The reason they might not have had the opportunity again wasn't because the swim club was being torn down. No one said it out loud, but they all knew it.

"I can't come to help out, but I'll ask my Dad if you can borrow his shovel," Makoto offered, looking expectantly over at Haruka.

"Haru-chan?"

The last thing Haruka wanted to do was dig up the time capsule with Nagisa alone when they buried it with the four of them. But more so, he didn't want another memory to be lost if it could be retrieved. "Alright."

"Yes!" Nagisa balled up his hands and threw his arms in the air. "Let's go tonight!"

"Tonight?"

"Yeah!"

Haruka sighed. Once Nagisa's mind was set to something it was futile to try to argue with him. Better to get the matter out of the way as quickly as possible.

While Nagisa vividly described how they could scale the fence and sneak into the building, Makoto's expression soured. He clenched his fingers around the end of his duvet.

"Are you really sure about this?"

The soft mumble made Nagisa pause. His thick eyebrows furrowed and he gnawed his lips; the downturn of Makoto's made every trace of his usual confidence diminish. How inconsiderate. "Sorry, Mako-chan, did you want to come along too?"

"No, it's fine." Makoto shook his head but didn't meet Nagisa's worried gaze. "I just… Is it really okay to do this without Rin?"

"It can't be helped. Rin is in Australia," Nagisa said, "We don't know when he'll be back, and by then the new facility might be there already. This is our only chance."

"Yeah, I suppose you're right." Makoto's fabricated smile returned, raised up to his prominent cheekbones as if the hiccup never happened, but the impact of his words pulsated on relentlessly.

Two sharp knocks on the door tugged them out of their reverie. They were a courtesy more than a request because before Makoto could answer, the door flung open and in strolled Kinoshita-san, her auburn locks caressing her shoulders with every step.

As always, her cheerfulness alleviated the tension - which was a required quality in her line of work - and her demeanour resembled that of a friend rather than a caretaker. "Hi, Tachibana-kun, Nanase-kun and…?" she trailed off, looking at Nagisa expectantly, "I don't believe we've met before?"

"Hazuki," he supplied with a grin - the level of sincerity it conveyed unclear to Haruka. "Hazuki Nagisa. I'm a friend of Mako-chan's."

"We used to go to the same swim club when we were kids. He was the breaststroke swimmer in our relay team," Makoto explained, and Kinoshita-san nodded along with a look of genuine interest. "He's a year younger than us and he recently enrolled in our school as a first-year, so we got to meet again."

"Oh, am I interrupting your big reunion?" she asked, her smile spreading further. "It's very nice to meet you, Hazuki-kun. I'm Kinoshita Momoka, but you can call me Momo-chan if you'd like." She introduced herself with her simple nickname out of habit - a habit no medical professional should be necessitated to develop if it weren't for the type of patients under her wing. "I'm one of the nurses here."

"It's nice to meet you too, Momo-chan!" Nagisa said, never passing up the opportunity to call someone '-chan' with permission, even if it was a nurse about a decade his senior - especially if it was a nurse about a decade his senior.

While most nurses were kind and warm towards patients and their visitors - those who weren't shouldn't have pursued this career path - Haruka had a specific liking towards Kinoshita-san, and he got the impression Makoto did, too. She'd been appointed to children's oncology a couple of weeks after Makoto's admittance. Therefore, not once had she tried to interfere with Haruka's prolonged stays, but instead accepted Makoto and him as a package deal. Alas, Haruka couldn't share the burden of his treatment with him.

"I won't bug you for too long, I'm just checking in to see if you need anything," Kinoshita-san said, directing her focus back on Makoto, "Would you like a refill of that?" She nodded towards the empty glass waiting on the bedside table.

"Ah, yes please," Makoto replied, and then he gasped. "Oh, I'm so sorry! Do you want anything to drink too? I was so surprised to see you again I forgot to ask."

"Don't mind, I forgot too," Nagisa said, whipping up his bag again and he pulled a carton of strawberry milk from its trenches. Apparently, the bag was like its owner: small in posture but a bottomless pit. "I already bought a drink when I got the Iwatobi Cream Bread."

"Then, Nanase-kun, can I get you anything?"

Haruka didn't have to check his bag to see his water bottle remained in the depths of his fridge. "Some water too, please."

"Alright. Anything else? Anyone?" When everyone shook their heads, she picked up Makoto's glass. "Two glasses of water, coming right up."

"Thank you, Momo-chan," Makoto said, and Kinoshita-san's freckled cheeks were lifted once more.

When Kinoshita-san exited the room, she took her cheerful aura with her and left the room frigid. Her arrival was kind-hearted in nature, but grim at second thought.

If they had closed their eyes, they could pretend they were in Makoto's room in Makoto's house, with the drowned out noises coming from beyond the door being produced by Makoto's family. They could hand him a tissue to blow his stuffy nose, laugh at the nasally tone of his otherwise melodic voice, chat about all he had missed at school that day. His mother would come in and bring three mugs of steaming ginger tea with honey on a tray and a gentle reminder they should leave before sunset, for their own safety and so Makoto could sleep off the virus.

But Kinoshita-san had yanked their eyelids open rather brutally, just by doing her job. She was a nurse and they were at a hospital, because Makoto's illness was one that wouldn't be remedied with tissues or ginger tea and honey or a good night's rest. They knew it of course, but ignorance was bliss even if it wasn't real.

The sounds of Nagisa ripping his straw from the carton and smashing it inside echoed. Haruka glanced over at Makoto, who still fumbled with his blankets. Although he couldn't stand tense atmospheres and would usually combat them with amiable small talk, no topic came to mind that could take some pressure off the kettle. The world tended to shrink when surrounded by the same four walls for as long as Makoto had been and with his family and with Haruka, silence was never suffocating.

When they were younger, Nagisa and silence were antonyms, but now he sipped his milk without a word. Whether that was because he had changed or because even he wasn't sure what to say to Makoto, Haruka didn't know.

Kinoshita-san's return was a breath of relief. She handed them their drinks and left with a playful remark that if Makoto ever needed anything, say, a glass of water, there was a convenient little button right next to his bed he could push to notify her or another staff member. Makoto chuckled and Nagisa smiled too. While the air wasn't quite clear yet, a window had been opened and the smog gradually drifted out.

"So…" Nagisa mumbled when his carton was empty, somewhat cautious. Kinoshita-san's appearance might've stung, but it provided him with the last grain of confidence he needed to ask the question that had probably been burning in his mind since he arrived here. And for the first time in his life, he was afraid of knowing the answer. "How have you been? I haven't seen you in years either and well…"

It might not have been the most tactful way to phrase his inquiries, but did a way more tactful exist in cases like these? It didn't startle Makoto, having expected this question to pop up at some point. The smile returned to his face but this time, it was a lie.

"I've been better." He forced out a laugh, but because Nagisa was asking in earnest, he didn't fully deny the truth. "I honestly never expected this would happen, so it was quite a shock at first. And well… it hasn't been easy. It's actually the hardest thing I've ever had to go through, but I'm getting by. I'm very fortunate to have the support of my family, of Haru." He glanced at Haruka from the corner of his eye, and for a moment, his smile turned sincere. "I wouldn't be able to do this without them. So, given the circumstances, I suppose things could've been a lot worse."

"Mine too," Nagisa said, and the mischievous glint of his magenta eyes had been replaced with devotion. "From now on, you can count on my support too. Even if it's just talking or hanging out and bringing snacks, I'll do whatever I can; I'll be here for you if you need me."

A tiny gasp squeezed through Makoto's lips at the determined look on Nagisa's face, and then his expression softened. "Thank you, Nagisa. I truly do appreciate that." The habitual tilt of his head accompanied the curl of his lips. "But please, don't worry about me too much. Chemo is tough, but I'm lucky to even get treatment. Plus, I've already got all the doctors and nurses fussing over me, so I'll be fine."

"Are all the nurses as nice as Momo-chan?"

"They are. Most of them, at least," Makoto said with a shrug. Even if he'd never tear down a specific person, there were a couple of nurses who weren't quite as caring as Kinoshita-san. Everyone was different and that was fine, but nurses who were grumpy more often than not or who couldn't read the room and couldn't tell how he was feeling were clearly not amongst Makoto's favourites. "Shimura-sensei, my oncologist, is really nice too. She's not quite as animated as Momo-chan, but she's very straight to the point."

"That's good. I think doctors should be serious, but in a nice way, you know? They shouldn't be afraid to tell you the truth but also treat you as a person rather than a case to solve."

"Yeah, Shimura-sensei's like that. She always takes the time to talk to me and makes sure I understand everything, and I really appreciate that about her."

"Sounds like you're in good hands," Nagisa commented, which Makoto affirmed with a gentle smile.

In the company of chunks of chocolate, they continued to chat about Makoto's life at the hospital and his experiences. Haruka was content to watch and listen, occasionally nodding if Makoto followed up a statement with "Right, Haru?". The ambience was friendly and light despite the subject matter turning quite heavy at times, a complete contrast to the weight the oxygen had carried before. Part of it was because of Makoto's strong and courageous attitude, but it was also because of Nagisa.

At his core, he was still his impulsive and carefree self, but his sense of positivity and his glass-half-full view had certainly matured since Haruka last saw him. He was more composed, and although he remained to be someone who acted first and thought later, he had learned from past mistakes. Like any of them, he wasn't at the end of his personal journey yet, but he had been shaped into a more refined version of his younger self: a sympathetic, emotional, loyal boy who was fun to be around. A great, caring friend, in times both joyous and dire.

When the sun began to retreat and the sky was tinged in Makoto's favourite shade of orange, Haruka got up from his chair, a silent announcement that they - or he, at least - were leaving for the day.

"Be careful," Makoto said, and while such a warning was not uncommon, his tone was a tad more serious. "It'll probably be dark by the time you get to the swim club, so…"

Despite his concern being kind of endearing, Haruka nearly rolled his eyes at it. But before he could retort with a 'Yes, Mom', Nagisa chimed in. "We'll be fine! We can borrow your Dad's shovel, right? If we see someone sketchy, we'll whack them over the head with it."

Makoto giggled at Nagisa's demonstration, lifting his air-shovel up and slamming down onto an invisible assailant. It was ironic, because in this scenario, wouldn't they be the sketchy figures, trespassing into an abandoned building with a shovel at night?

"Though, I guess shovel-attacks don't work against all types of opponents."

"What do you mean?" Makoto asked. As far as legal 'weapons' went, a shovel seemed rather effective.

"Ghosts. Haven't you heard? They say the swim club is haunted!"

At that, Makoto grew stark white. "What?"

"It's true! Some people said they saw shadows moving inside the building and heard distant sobbing voices."

"Eh?"

"Don't scare him like that," Haruka cut in with a frown. "Ghosts aren't real, it was probably an animal that got into the building and made some noise."

"Well, I'll bring some purifying salt just to be sure," Nagisa said. Whether this was because he genuinely believed the stories or because he wanted to get the full experience of creeping into a potentially haunted building wasn't clear, but Haruka felt like it was the latter.

"Still, be careful, alright?" Makoto pressed on as Nagisa leapt off the bed.

"We will," Nagisa assured and he gave Makoto another hug. "It was really great to see you again, Mako-chan. I promise I'll come back soon."

"You're always welcome," Makoto said with a pat to Nagisa's back. "Thank you for coming, Nagisa."

"We'll do the homework tomorrow," Haruka said. Between all the commotion Nagisa stirred up, he forgot to give Makoto the USB drive and the scraps of notes he took. "So make sure you're prepared for that."

"I will. Thank you for coming, Haru."

Haruka didn't have the freedom to hurl himself at Makoto's neck like Nagisa, so for now, the usual phrase of gratitude and the beautiful smile to match would suffice.

With goodbyes that weren't farewells, Nagisa and Haruka left the hospital room. No matter how much the circumstances had changed that day, the hollow aching in his stomach when passing through this doorway never lessened.

Their shoes squeaked against the linoleum floor as they left the ward. Earlier, Nagisa had taken the lead and walked in front of him the majority of the time, but now he was shuffling behind Haruka like he'd already forgotten where the exit of this hallway was - which was impossible, as there was only one way to go.

But Haruka didn't pay any mind to Nagisa's pace because he was absorbed in his own thoughts. The steamed pork bun had done wonders to still his hunger for the time being, but he couldn't run on it alone. Not if he had to go out later to the old swim club and dig a hole in the hardened soil. His sole meal for the day would have to be a proper, nutritious one to add some energy to his ever-draining supply. But he couldn't remember how much time had gone by since he'd eaten anything more extravagant than grilled mackerel and rice, and as far as he knew, his cabinets hadn't been this empty since his first year in middle school. On the way home, he'd better make a pit-stop at the convenience store.

"What time did you want to meet up at the swim club?" Haruka asked, making a mental shopping list in his head as he reached out to push the elevator button, but a sudden tug on the back of his blazer halted him. He tried peering over his shoulder and the hold tightened, two hands clenching the fabric as if Haruka would slip through the floor if they let go. "Nagisa?"

A loud sniff reverberated through the empty room, drowning out the buzzing of the elevators around them. "Haru-chan…" Nagisa let out a shaky breath. "It's not like I didn't believe you. I knew he was sick, but…"

Haruka gasped. How could he not have noticed?

Every second since entering Makoto's room was a droplet of torment dripping into Nagisa's bucket, piling up and getting closer to the top. Now he was in the hallway again, the water couldn't be contained any longer. He'd fought valiantly to keep his emotions inside, to hide them from Makoto with his jolly demeanour and cheek-splitting grin, but they were due to overflow sooner or later. The water had nowhere to go but out over the ledge.

If Nagisa's tears were bombs, they would've exploded upon touching the ground beneath them, flinging waves of his agony through the entire hospital. He pressed his forehead against Haruka's back as a tiny sob wrecked his throat. "I knew he wouldn't be the same as when we were kids, I knew he had changed but…" he mumbled, "He looks so pale and thin and fragile and… that's not Mako-chan. That's not-"

He didn't finish his sentence, too choked up by his thoughts to produce a sound other than gurgles.

This wasn't the first time Haruka heard Nagisa cry, far from it actually. The loud wails and the thick swallows, he was all too familiar with the varying levels of Nagisa's whimpers. But never before had it sounded like this; this was nothing like how he'd blubber when he flew off his bike in an overzealous trip to the swim club and skinned his shins on the pavement, or how he'd furiously rub at his eyes to prevent his tears from showing when he lost a race he trained so hard for. Now it was guttural, fearful, filled with disbelief or rather, the refusal to believe.

Of course he'd react like this. The barren wastelands of Haruka's heart had hosted one battle too many and violence was normalised, but this was Nagisa's first encounter with the monster leukemia and its destructiveness. Knowing warfare existed wasn't the same as experiencing it first-hand, as living through it. There was nothing that could've prepared Nagisa for the combat Haruka had grown accustomed to, nothing that could've aided him in blocking the onslaught, not even his shield of optimism.

A sword in the chest shredded Nagisa's world, while Haruka breathed his relief for it had missed the heart. The blood seeping through the shirt sickened Nagisa to his core, while Haruka was glad the wound wasn't infected. The pain drew a harrowing scream from Nagisa's lungs, but Haruka knew it was an itch compared to a severed limb.

Yet that didn't make Nagisa's shock any less real. He stepped onto the same train they were all riding, he had just skipped a few stops along the way. A train that could switch tracks at any point, driving them to safety or into the abyss. And seeing Makoto finally made that tangible for Nagisa.

Although Haruka knew these feelings all too well, he didn't have any words ready to soothe his friend; it was because he felt them too that he didn't know what to say. Whether it was to the twins or to Nagisa, bidding words of false comfort was nothing but cruel. All he could do was turn around and let Nagisa pour his emotions and fears into him.

Warmth spread across his shirt when Nagisa pushed his face against him. "It's not fair, Haru-chan. He doesn't deserve this."

These claims were nothing new to Haruka either. Months had passed since he'd spoken them himself, but their sentiment never left; they echoed and echoed in every minute of every day.

"He has to get better. He just has to!"

At this point, he might as well have been crying into his own chest. These thoughts were ones he didn't want to share with anyone, for this was a burden he had to carry by himself. There were times when his strength crumbled and he showed Makoto his weaknesses, but he repressed them as much as he could because he couldn't rely on anyone.

And now, Nagisa was relying on him. Nagisa was showing his weaknesses to him so he could repress them in front of Makoto. This outward vulnerability Haruka truly envied, but it was something he couldn't express himself. Makoto would notice right away if he let his guard down, and Makoto had enough to worry about already. Even if there was nothing he wanted more than to crawl into Makoto's bed and cry in his arms, he could never allow himself to do that.

But Nagisa could. Nagisa could cling to his chest and open up about the heartache he felt, unabashed and unashamed. So perhaps, Nagisa could be the vessel for his emotions as well. If he poured all his feelings into Nagisa and then comforted him, maybe he could comfort himself, too.

So Haruka wrapped his arms around Nagisa's back, carding his fingers through his thick blond locks as he pressed him against himself like he was hugging his reflection. And Nagisa held onto him even harder while he cried. He cried and cried and cried, soft so no one could hear them, enough tears to flood the department, until both of their tear-tracks were run dry and their buckets, their hearts were empty once more.

But the droplets never stopped dripping.