That was his story.

The tone of his voice was faint, and from it transpired all the suffering he had experienced up to that point. It was natural for me to cry. I couldn't even begin to imagine how he felt.

"Why... why didn't you tell me?"

"Honestly, I don't even know myself. Maybe I was afraid of the compassion I would see in your eyes. I didn't want you to feel obligated toward me."

"Well, let me tell you something, you idiot," I said without restraint.

"Ah?!"

"I decide whether I consider you a burden or not. So you can talk to me about anything. And don't worry, I have no intention of treating you any differently than I have up to now," I said, wiping my eyes with the sleeves of my school uniform.

"Tha... thank you," he replied, trembling.

"Can I ask you a question?"

"Sure."

"How did you end up coming to this city?"

"Ah, good question. The doctors in my old city recommended it. They told me that here they could manage my problem better and that, if the right conditions were created, I could have surgery to remove the cancer. I came here about two weeks before Chika-san, because we were still looking for a house. During those days, I stayed in the hospital. My mother and father had to sort out some things for work, and I think they'll be coming here soon too. That's why I'm only living with her at the moment. I came ahead to let the doctors check my condition, even though I hate being locked up for too long—in fact, sometimes I sneaked out."

"How did you sneak out?"

"Yeah, once they caught me and gave me a good scolding. Now that I think about it, the day I saved you from the accident, I had sneaked out to take a walk."

"Really?"

"Yeah."

That explained why he was here the day before Chika-san moved in.

"Hey, and now? How will things develop? You mentioned surgery earlier, right?"

"Yes."

"Is this surgery safe?"

"In this case, nothing is safe. It's not certain that I can have it, and even if I did, the probability of success... I don't want to say it would be low, but not very high either. Anyway, if I don't have it, the cancer will keep spreading and I'll die, so either way, I'm cornered. Every now and then, I remember the brain scan and that tiny little black dot—who would have thought that something so small could lead to such a big problem."

I slowly approached him, took his hand, and intertwined my fingers with his. I don't know why I did it. I just felt like doing it.

I gently took him by the shoulders and made him lie down, using my legs as pillows.

Behind my gentleness, I was trying to hide the desperate crying I wanted to give in to.

I couldn't accept this situation.

Why did it have to be him? He didn't deserve any of this at all. But who was I to decide who deserved it or not? It was a terrible thing, and as such, it shouldn't happen to anyone.

"What are you doing?"

"I don't know. Right now, I just want to take care of you. Let's be clear—I'm not pitying you. It's just that... well, I care about you."

I was completely embarrassed by that intimate situation. That sweet and affectionate side of me had never been shown to anyone; he was the first.

"Don't look at me," I said, blushing.

"Are you embarrassed?"

"Absolutely not." To camouflage my obvious embarrassment, I grabbed the pillow from the bed and put it over his face to cover his eyes. "I told you not to look!" I exclaimed, continuing to press the pillow harder and harder against his face.

"Okay, okay, I get it. Now take it off; I can't breathe."

I slowly removed the pillow, and our eyes met.

"Everything will... be okay. All right?" I said with a firm voice.

"All right."

Visiting hours had ended.

As I headed home, it suddenly started raining. The journey seemed endless. That day had become so heavy.

I was frustrated. In my mind, the moment he told me he had cancer kept replaying over and over. My brain started asking itself a thousand questions.

It was still unknown whether he would be eligible for the operation. And if he wasn't suitable? He would continue living his agony, dragging himself between the hospital and his home until the end of his days. So how many days would he have left? Certainly not many.

And if instead he could undergo the operation?

He would have an additional chance.

And how safe would it be? He himself had said there was no absolute certainty that it would go well. But what if it did go well?

Finally, his life would change. Gradually, he could recover all the lost time and finally start believing in the future.

And if it went wrong? Well... in that case, he would die.

I dragged myself home like a dying person, like a living being from whom the life force had been drained from the body. There was only one person I could talk to about these thoughts. Once I arrived in front of my building, exhausted, instead of going to my door, I stopped in front of Yuto-kun's.

"*Ding-dong*"

I rang the bell, and my friend's sister opened the door.

"Ayame?"

"Can I... come in?"

"Of course."

We sat down at the kitchen table.

"Here, use this." She gave me a towel to dry myself and offered me a cup of hot tea.

"Thank you."

"What's wrong? Everything okay?" she asked, worried.

"I went to the hospital to see Yuto-kun."

"Ah...!"

"And now?" I asked her.

"What do you mean?"

"What do we do? How can we help him?"

"We're already doing everything possible for him. The only thing now is to hope he can have the operation."

"But in the meantime, he's still at risk. Can't we try to spee—"

"DO YOU THINK I DON'T KNOW THAT?" she replied, shouting. "How do you think I feel? My little brother could die at any moment, and I'm practically useless. The only thing I can do is take care of him like I always have. The doctors said it's not certain that the operation will save him, so being the big sister is the only thing I can do." She started crying.

"Ever since we found out about his illness, he's withdrawn into himself. I tried to do everything to help him and alleviate his pain at least a little, and you know what? I never succeeded! But you did. Ever since he met you, he's become happier and laughs more often. For once, since he discovered the illness, I've seen him alive."

Her words made me feel worse.

"That's not true; I didn't do anything. It's him who changed my little world. He made it more colorful and brighter. If I can laugh the way I do now, it's thanks to him. So I think it's wrong to believe that I'm the cause of his joy."

"I, on the other hand, think it's a beautiful thing. If two people can improve each other and feel good together, isn't that better? It would be nice if things were always like that; people would understand each other better."

"Yeah."

"The only thing you can do now is be his friend and stay by his side. It's the best thing."

"You're right. Thank you so much."

"Thank you."

Once I got home, I lay down on my bed and involuntarily started reflecting. I thought about how strong Yuto-kun was. Even though he was tired and the illness was wearing him down, he kept going. Despite his situation being so delicate and particular, he continued to live.

I thought back to the day of my suicide attempt and felt ashamed of my behavior. I had judged myself the unluckiest person in the world. Unlike him, I did nothing but feel sorry for myself. He, on the other hand, fought. He always had.

He was the example of the person I wanted to be. I wanted him to see that I too could be strong.