Lying is a Sin, A Sin Hanagaki Takemichi Commits Too Often

Mikey's Love Is Short Lived (12 years isn't enough, its nowhere near enough)

August 1st, 2017

Mikey was buzzing with excitement and nervousness. It feels like it's been forever since he's been so close to Takemichi. Like, properly close. Like how they used to be. Like in highschool. When they were basically living together that's how much time either he spent at Takemichi's or Takemichi spent at Mikey's. Takemichi always exuded this domestic feeling, it felt nostalgic to watch him bake and care for others.

Adult life isn't anything like he thought it would be. Before he met Takemichi, he thought he would spend every day riding his motorbike with Draken, Pah-chin, Mistuya, Baji and Kazutora. They would be all mischievous together and he would be constantly filled with that incredible adrenaline pulsing in his veins. Then he met Takemichi.

Hanagaki Takemichi. The one who so quickly enamoured him. The one he would do anything for. The one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. Loving Takemichi used to be easy. It was simple, it was gentle, it was sweet. He spent almost every day with him, right by his side. Glaring at those who just loved to steal Takemichi's attention from him.

But years passed. Years passed and Takemichi never truly looked at him. It was always jaded. His eyes always hid something. And Mikey has spent the past 12 years trying to figure it out. Endless obsidian never giving up, begging to know the truth behind the sapphire.

Mikey used to think of himself as invincible, strong, powerful. But truly, he was pathetic. The way he basically begs for Takemichi to see him as more than a friend, but is too scared to say it in plain words in fear of rejection. He really believed that he could live the rest of his life, waiting for Takemichi. But the more time that passed, the more it didn't seem like a possibility. Every 'I love you' that went unanswered, ignored. Every uncomfortable chuckle at Mikey's clinginess. Every flash of emotion in his blue eyes that Mikey can't understand when Takemichi rejects his advances indirectly so as to not embarrass Mikey. Even with all of that, Mikey held on to hope. Because he was stubborn, and perhaps delusional.

So delusional in fact that he had hoped that there was an inkling of possibility that Takemichi asked to spend time with him to confess his feelings. But it seemed so unlikely. And to be honest, it wasn't really his concern right now. Takemichi's health was. It has obviously been declining regardless of how much Takemichi denies it. And he will not let Takemichi leave his house until he tells him what's going on. But the Takemichi that is sitting in that passenger seat right now is not the Hanagaki Takemichi he knows. The person that sits next to him is a dull fractured shell of the bright and full of life Takemichi he loves.

He wants- needs Takemichi to take him seriously. Because he never does, never has.

.

Mikey thought Takemichi might be nervous too. With the way he picks at the skin around his thumb, it looks red and raw. He's been doing it for a while. But typically, when Takemichi is nervous, his eyes dart all over and he can't keep his legs still. But right now, as Takemichi stares at him almost unblinkingly, the only movement from his figure is his fidgeting fingers and the rattle of his frame every time he breathes. And as he does, Mikey takes the time to really take in Takemichi's appearance. Analysing every inch of his being. The longer he stares, the more guilt settles in his gut. He should have been able to prevent this. If he loved Takemichi so much, how did he not try to get Takemichi help earlier.

Takemichi hasn't said a word since he got in his car earlier. Not a word when they came into Mikey's home. Not a sound when Mikey offered some tea. The younger had just silently moved and sat down on his couch. And so, Mikey had followed him, choosing to sit across from him so he could see Takemichi's every movement, every emotion.

He wasn't sure how long they had been sitting here, wordlessly, neither knowing how to approach what they wanted to say. But he knows the sun has gone down and the room is dimly lit by a mere salt lamp in the corner. The shadows reveal more shark edges Takemichi's face had gained through his progressive and severe weight loss.

"Takemitchy-"

"Mikey-"

Their voices clashed together, preventing either from continuing. Was this a sign? To not keep trying? No, he had to. He forced down the saliva that gathered in his mouth and clenched his fists.

"Takemitchy, I will not let you leave from that spot until you tell me what's going on with you," Mikey had never used such a direct tone with Takemichi, but he needed to. He needed to know if he was okay.

"That's exactly why I wanted to talk to you, Mikey-kun," Takemichi replied dryly.

Mikey hadn't expected Takemichi to respond as such. Takemichi always evades any subject about himself, especially his health and wellbeing.

"You're going to hate me. So much, Mikey-kun."

What was he spouting about? Just say it. Say what you mean. Say i-

"Say it. Just tell me, Takemitchy."

A shaky sigh escapes Takemichi's cracked quivering lips, "For the past year and a half, my health has been rapidly declining. I'm not sure if you noticed."

Mikey scoffed, "Of course I've noticed, everyone has. What's going on? Do you have some illness?"

He watches Takemichi swallow and his fingers tense before the younger one finally nods.

"Yes."

"Is something the matter? Do you need money for medication or something? You know I would give you whatever you needed in a heartbeat."

"I know that Mikey-kun. I know." Takemichi's voice is strained, forced.

"So how much do you need? It's crazy how the prices of medications are rising these days. You should really get health insurance Takemitchy, it works wonders and-"

"Mikey-kun," his voice drops, it's softer now.

Mikey knows that tone. And he doesn't like it. It takes him back to when he's a kid and adults are trying to explain something to him, thinking he's stupid. He's always hated it when people don't get straight to the point.

"It's not just medication, is it? Is it something more? Do you need a procedure?"

"No medication or procedure can help me, it's too late now," Takemichi pauses for a moment, his face scrunches up and he clutches the side of his head, seemingly in pain, "I-I....I have terminal brain cancer, Mikey-kun."

And just like that. He's taken back. He's taken back to his child self crying at his mother's death bed. He's taken back to his fifteen year old self freaking out in the hospital waiting room, desperate to find out about Emma's condition after she was the victim of a hit and run. He's taken back to a year and a half ago when the doctors told him his grandfather didn't have long left and he died hours later.

He can't process it. And he doesn't want to. He doesn't want to even consider what the only possible outcomes are of what Takemichi just told him. But even if he wanted to, he didn't get a chance to because suddenly Takemichi collapsed in front of him. He leaped across to the other couch, grabbing Takemichi's limp body before it smacked into the coffee table.