24 Hours

30 Minutes Before Injection

Yamaguchi was dying.

Tsukishima Kei knew this from the bags beneath Yamaguchi's eyes, the lessening of his gray-green hair, and the weary heaviness that dragged his friend down. He also knew this because Yamaguchi had been in the hospital for the past two months after he went unconscious in the middle of the super market.

Tsukishima would never forget that day. He and Yamaguchi were doing their weekly grocery shopping together since the two of them moved into the same apartment after graduating from college. Yamaguchi had been oddly suspicious to Tsukishima for a whole year- going out somewhere once a month, loosing his appetite, looking much tired than usual. Tsukishima suspected it was simply the stress of Yamaguchi's new job, but it wasn't until he fainted in the supermarket, that Tsukishima knew the truth. Yamaguchi was sick.

"Sorry, Tsukki," Yamaguchi had said in a very quiet voice when he woke up in the hospital bed. "I didn't want to tell you because... I didn't want you to worry."

Tsukishima hadn't known what to say. What could he say to his best friend who had been terribly sick for a whole year, and he hadn't even known. He had just stared at the ugly, hospital tile floor and with great effort, finally said: "You'll be okay, right?"

"Of course I'll be okay!" Yamaguchi had replied with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes.

But two months later, Yamaguchi only got weaker and weaker and was still in the hospital.

Today was a warm day in June. As the cliché would say: a nice, warm, sunny day with birds chirping and the sky shining. But Tsukishima Kei thought that cliché would absolutely bullshit. It was too bright for him- too hot for him; he bitterly complained under his breath, tugging at his white, collar shirt. He rushed down the steps of the Sendai City museum, which he worked at. He was applying to be a math teacher, but for now, the museum it is.

There had been a little kid prodding Tsukishima about some stupid history question about one of the sculptures, and even when his shift was over, the stupid kid wouldn't leave him alone. And now Tsukishima was sprinting out of the museum and down to the block to the nearest bus station.

Stupid kid, he thought furiously, maneuvering his way through a crowd. I hate kids.

Down the street, he saw people filing in his usual bus. Tsukishima picked up the pace, his black backpack thumping against his back.

"Hey, wait!" he shouted, lifting a hand.

The bus drove away.

Tsukishima reached the bus stop, breathless, and cussing under his breath. An old lady eating a pastry walked by, eyeing Tsukishima oddly, and he returned a cold gaze. She looked away quickly, and Tsukishima returned to grumping about missing the bus. He pulled his headphones over his ears, put on the playlist he shared with Yamaguchi, and begun to walk at a rapid pace towards the Sendai City hospital.

He reached the hospital 15 minutes later, still annoyed by the kid who made him miss his bus. Tsukishima didn't do exercise. Unless it's volleyball, but he hasn't played since Yamaguchi was admitted to the hospital. He felt a pang of guilt as he released Yamaguchi had played with him earlier this year when Tsukishima didn't know he was sick.

Did he really do that for me? Tsukishima thought, his stomach twisting.

It was too late to ponder on the past. He looked up at the hospital, the same dreadful feeling coursing through his body. It was the same feeling every day when he went to visit Yamaguchi. He always did right after his shift at the Sendai City museum. The awful feeling of death, sickness, and sadness all mixed up in one. Besides, it had a sickly smell to it.

The hospital was tall with wide, white walls and an ugly shade of blue curtains on the hundreds of glass windows. People were moving all around, and cars slowly moved around the large parking lot. Tsukishima scowled and turned the volume up. He entered the hospital lobby where nurses hustled all around, some with patients. The room had artificial plants in the corners which Tsukishima thought it did nothing to brighten up the mood in this hospital. He headed towards the front counter where the nurse didn't even have to ask who he was visiting since Tsukishima came every day. He simply signed the usual form, then headed down a hallway to Yamaguchi's room.

He paused in front of the door, sliding his headphones down around his neck. He'd visited Yamaguchi every day for two months, but his gut still twisted before opening the door. Tsukishima's hand tightened around the door handle, and then he opened it and stepped inside.

His friend laid on the hospital breath, the blue blanket pulled over his frail body, his head propped up by white pillows. He had a breathing tube in his nose with a few machines besides him. Hovering over Yamaguchi, was Dr. Asa. Dr. Asa was sitting in the red, plastic chair next to Yamaguchi's bed, speaking gently to him. His eyebrows were creased tightly, and a firm hand held Yamaguchi's.

The door shut behind Tsukishima.

Yamaguchi and Dr. Asa looked up at Tsukishima as he slowly made his way towards the doctor and his friend. He looked down at his friend- his pale, weak face. His cracked lips and bags beneath his eyes. Still beautiful.

"Sorry I'm late," Tsukishima said, settling his backpack down. "Idiot kid couldn't stop asking me questions about dinosaurs, and I missed the bus." He sat down in a chair and looked for Yamaguchi's reaction. Yamaguchi gave him a soft smile. It was better than nothing. Tsukishima tried to cheer his friend up as much as possible- even when he was hurting inside- he really tried. Anything for Yamaguchi.

Doctor Asa nodded stiffly. He glanced down at the clipboard he held, then back at Yamaguchi. There seemed to be a tension in the air even without much being said. Tsukishima realized Yamaguchi's eyes were puffy as if he'd just been crying.

"What's going on?" Tsukishima said, his voice sharper than intended.

Yamaguchi looked away, glancing towards Dr. Ara for help. Dr. Ara is busy scribbling down on his clipboard, his pen against paper filling the silence. Finally, he finished his paperwork and realized Tsukishima and Yamaguchi were both staring at him.

"I don't have all day," said Tsukishima, his voice flat. "What's going on?"

"Ah, well," Dr. Ara tapped his chin with his pen, "as you know, Yamaguchi is very sick and is dying."

Tsukishima's hand tightened around the chair he sat in, and he frowned. "You didn't have to remind me, Doc. What's the point-"

"I'm afraid he doesn't have long left, Tsukishima."

Tsukishima felt like his heart had just dropped to his stomach. His mouth went clammy and dry, and he shook his head as if he wouldn't believe it. Tsukishima glanced at the heart monitor besides Yamaguchi- the beats had slowed much more than when Yamaguchi had first came. He didn't want to see it flat line. He tore his eyes away from the machine and back to Yamaguchi.

Yamaguchi's lip was quivering, and he had a faint smile while being on the verge of tears again. His eyes were filled with apologies and wistfulness. It was unbearable to look at Yamaguchi like this- on the path of death, so weak, so sad.

Tightening his jaw, Tsukishima spoke the words he wished he didn't have to ever say: "How long?"

Yamaguchi hesitated, then let out a long exhale.

"24 hours."

(A/N: Oh, here we go again.)