The following two weeks were agonizing.

First of all, Koutarou was dying of boredom. He was locked up in his room, extremely pampered by his overprotective mother. The only one visiting him was his best friend, who kept talking about how much fun Volleyball was at the moment and how great their team was doing despite him not being there. It wasn't really lifting his mood at all.

Secondly, he missed Keiji more than the liked to admit.

They messaged each other every day just as they promised, but it wasn't the same.

He wanted him to be here, to be next to him. Wanted to see his smile and hold his hand and just keep him close.

It was frustrating.

The day Koutarou was finally allowed to leave his bed was a long awaited one.

He got up early to help his mom preparing a small bento with Keiji's favorite food. He knew the other boy had grown tired of the hospital food a long time ago already. Something self-made might cheer him up a bit, since Koutarou couldn't help but notice his messages sounded a bit gloomy the past days.

He even considered getting flowers, but then remembered the other one didn't like those. He hated watching them wither or something, if Koutarou remembered his words correctly.

His parents accompanied him to the hospital since he also had an appointment to finally get the plaster on his arm removed. When it was done, Koutarou didn't waste another second to say them goodbye and climb the stairs to the 5th floor. He stormed down the hall Keiji's room, swinging the door open wide with a bright smile and holding up the self-made bento in front of him proudly.

"Akaashiii, look what I-"

His voice died down immediately the second his gaze fell on the other boy.

"... made" he finished the sentence low-keyed and dropped his arm promptly.

No.

This wasn't Keiji.

That wasn't the boy he said goodbye to two weeks ago. It had to be someone else, right?

This pale boy with greyish skin and dark bags under his eyes, countless tubes and wires coming from beneath his blanket, connecting him to a bunch of supporting devices; it just couldn't be him.

Said boy slowly opened his eyes and glanced at him with the faintest hint of a smile.

"Hey ..." was everything Keiji managed to say, before his lids fell shut again and he burst out in a breathless cough.

Koutarou felt his eyes starting to tear up immediately.

"What's going on" he muttered and looked away from the boy on the bed, staring disbelievingly at the nurse fumbling with one of the devices.

This just couldn't be.

"Time's running out..." the nurse explained patiently. "If he doesn't receive a new heart soon, his lungs will give up as well."

Koutarou dropped himself down on the chair next to Keiji's bed, the bento long forgotten and placed neatly in his lap. His gaze lingered on the boy in front of him, watching as his chest raised and sank heavily in a weak attempt of getting enough air. He lay on his back and there led a tube from his nostrils, probably to provide him with oxygen.

"I've been only gone for two weeks, how..."

The silver haired teen's voice almost broke when he talked.

"Why didn't you tell me? We... we texted everyday... I had no idea..."

Keiji's opened his eyes again and his gaze locked with Koutarou's though hooded lids.

"I'm sorry. I... didn't want to worry you..." he spoke in a hoarse voice and it was all it took for Koutarou to finally break out in tears.

"You're such an idiot..." he sobbed, took Keiji's hand in his and refused to let it go until he had to leave again late in the evening.