"Don't Forget Me, Okay?" [Iwaoi]

Prologue*

The visit to the hospital was always a hard one. It was a place filled with sickness and sorrow. Yet, its whitewashed walls and floor tiles contrasted from the blackness of death. They mocked you as you sat and watched your loved ones die, nothing in the world that you could do to save them. Lies were sugarcoated and you snatched them up, grasping at any thread of hope that was left. Denial set deep in your heart.

Iwaizumi had faced death once before; his father's. It had been quick and practically painless from what he had to suffer through now. Alzheimer's had taken over his mother's brain, eating away at it. It was painful to watch her die slowly, not even able to leave the hospital. And there was nothing Iwaizumi could do to help her.

Now he stood in front of a wooden door. A small slot of glass allowed him to peek inside the room. The woman was sitting upright on her bed, the sheets pulled over her legs. She wore the blue colored hospital gown and a small vial was taped to the inside of her elbow. She stared at the television that played in front of her. Her face was blank, her mouth slightly parted. She looked as if she couldn't even register what was happening on the TV.

Iwaizumi averted his eyes, looking to the small plaque that was screwed into the wall. The permanent number 103 was in white. Underneath was a small strip of white paper that was slipped into the slot, on it was the name Iwaizumi.

He stared at it like it held the answers to all his problems. No one knew how much that simple piece of paper saddened Iwaizumi. It was his family name. It shouldn't have been sloppily written on a ripped piece of paper and stuck to the side of a hospital wall.

In his daze, Iwaizumi had forgotten about Oikawa, who stood at his side. Oikawa gazed at the boy out of the corner of his eye with a slight frown on his face. He had realized that these trips would never get easier, and so Iwaizumi's pain became his pain. After every Sunday visit they would go home and lie on Oikawa's bed, their limbs tangled as they got as close to each other as they could.

Oikawa extended his arm towards Iwaizumi so he could interlace their fingers. Iwaizumi's body jerked and quickly blinked his eyes at his touch. Then, he looked down at his feet. Oikawa stepped behind Iwaizumi and wrapped his arms around him, hugging him from behind.

"It'll be okay Iwa-chan," he whispered, kissing the top of his head.

Iwaizumi leaned into him and tugged his arms tighter around his body. He reveled in his warmth, the pounding of his heart on his back. It was a sign that he was alive, living, breathing.

"I love you," Iwaizumi said quietly.

Oikawa buried his face in his neck. "I love you, too."

They waited, silent. Neither of them was ready to face what was hidden behind the door; Iwaizumi, pained to see his mother in such a hopeless state. Oikawa, Iwaizumi's pain reflecting on his heart.

In the reflection of the glass, Oikawa could see himself and Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi's eyes looked clouded. Gray. Conflicted. Without warning, he stepped forward and Oikawa was faced with a sudden rush of cold air.

Iwaizumi gripped and turned the door handle, opening the door. His mother's head whipped towards the sound of the opening door. Walking in, Iwaizumi pulled up a hard, plastic chair from the corner of the room and dragged in next to her bed.

"Hi, Mom," he greeted her. His voice was firm but gentle, like repeating something to a child. His mother stared at him in awe, once again meeting him for the first time.

"Hajime, Mom," he said. "That's my name."

The lack of response was expected. Even without the information from the doctors, Iwaizumi could tell that she was in the last stages of her life. Every greeting was the first, the same words pulled from a new package.

Iwaizumi didn't press his mother to think, to try and remember. "How are you doing?"

After a moment of absent-minded gazing, his mother replied,"Good."

"Have you been doing everything the doctors tell you to?"

"Yes."

Oikawa stood in the corner, watching them as they conversed. He felt empty. Not filled with depression or angst, but void of emotion. It was difficult to see Iwaizumi like this; the person he loved fortifying walls within himself just to try and protect himself from the pain. Yet, there was nothing that could be done.

The door opened again. A nurse walked in with a tray of food in her hands. She smiled warmly at the three occupying the room.

"Hello, boys. It's time for her dinner," she said.

"I was just finishing up," Iwaizumi lied. They had just entered the room, not having been in it for more than ten minutes.

"The doctor is at the ward desk if you'd like to talk to him," she informed them.

"Yes, thank you."

Iwaizumi rose from his seat and politely placed it back in its corner. He left the room, Oikawa scrambling behind him.

The doctor was at the desk, white lab jacket, clipboard and all. Iwaizumi approached him and waited for a response.

"Ah," the doctor said when he noticed their presence,"Iwaizumi-san. Hello there."

"Hello."

"Hello," Oikawa said, also.

Iwaizumi wasted no time. "How's my mother?"

The doctor frowned slightly. Then, he sighed.

"We're doing all that we can."

"I know," Iwaizumi said.

Looking down at his clipboard, the doctor continued. "The medication has slowed the process, but it will inevitably destroy her brain. There's not much else we can do but make her comfortable."

Iwaizumi nodded.

"Would you like to check her out?"

Iwaizumi shook his head.

"Alright. I assume I'll see you next Sunday?"

"Sure," Iwaizumi replied. "Thank you, Doctor."

He nodded in acknowledgment. "If you'll excuse me, gentleman."

Iwaizumi watched as the man walked away. Rage flowed throughout Iwaizumi, sparking in his brain down to his fingertips and toes. In that moment, he despised everything about him. What was the point of putting her in this hospital? This stupid, whitewashed building where you sent people to die? He hated how they couldn't do anything to help his mother. It was her death was inevitable, they said. There was nothing in the whole world that they could do to save her.

In the midst of his anger, Oikawa placed a hand on his shoulder. Placing a gentle kiss on the boy's head, he closed his eyes.

"Let's go home?"

Iwaizumi nodded his head for the nth time; the exact number he didn't know.

They traveled down the hallway and to the staircase that led to the ground floor, down the stairs, past the lobby and the receptionists' desk, to the glass sliding doors that opened to the outdoors. With the sound of movement, the door opened, letting the two out into the cool air of autumn.

________________________________

Yay it's edited, new, and improved. I hope you enjoyed this more than the crap that I wrote the first time.