And they did.

It was after long hours full of desperate waiting, when the doctor finally came back in the company of a surgeon.

Keiji's mother stood up and walked towards them hastily. Koutarou had barely managed to follow, as he already watched the woman breaking into tears and hugging both men to express her gratefulness. She then turned around to Koutarou, who could feel his own eyes tear up as she sent him a relieved smile. He smiled back and they walked together to the recovery room.

When Keiji finally opened his eyes again, they both sat on each side of the bed.

The doctor claimed he would be dazed from the anesthesia when he waked up, but the boy only blinked a few times, before turning his head and asking with a hazy voice

"Am I still alive?"

And when his mother told him yes and Koutarou gently squeezed his hand, Keiji squeezed back in response.

He had made it. He had made it and he had a new heart and he was alive.

And Koutarou couldn't be happier.

In the evening, when it was already dark outside, Keiji's mother had left them alone for a bit and Koutarou didn't think twice before climbing onto the other boy's bed and snuggled up close to him.

They both lay on their backs, their hands entangled between them and their gazes locked with smiles spreading on both their features. One of them weaker than the other one, but it was there.

He was there, Koutarou reminded himself.

Exhausted and still drained from the surgery, but he was there. He was alive and it was all that mattered right now.