CHOCOLATES IN MONSOON | HRK

12 | you and me

CHAPTER TWELVE ;; HARUTO
you and me

If dying was this peaceful, maybe it wasn't all that bad.

Even if it was bad, he didn't think he quite minded though. He had two and a half more months to live. While that wasn't really enough, it still gave him time. It gave him twenty fours a day in which to spend time with the boy. It sounded selfish - even to himself - that he wasn't giving his parents much attention. After all, he loved them, he cared for them and he was grateful to them. They had wanted the best for him - always. Yet this cold wall had gone up, against their will or on purpose.

They knew as well as him - had they not denied him the permission for college, he would never have had to live in a neighbour's house - without medication or care - for a week. He would never have had to run away and shiver in the rain from bitter cold either. But things had happened - like they almost always did. And here he was l-

Clunk.

The saline stand shifted a little, making the needle painfully shift in the crook of his arms. He stopped reminiscing so much. It was a miracle how the doctor had fitted the entire thing to his chair. That abominable, long stick just pressing against his shoulders all day and driving him crazy with its rattling. He would just roll up to his window or perhaps just his desk and the stand would shake and squeak and clutter, the needle going this way and that and he would stop. It was disgusting.

"Mum ! My arm hurts !", he called down the stairs, pausing at the landing where his wheelchair lay precariously balanced above the first step. He had somehow rattled and squeaked all the way out of his room and above the stairs.

"Mum ?", he tried again. Still no answer.

There was no one nearby to see him at present and the probability of standing up occurred to him. A gentle throbbing of the heart. A quickened pulse rate. A highly nervous and loud gulp.

When was the last time he had stood up at his own free will ? Last month ? The month before that ? Sometime in early August ? Well, he had never really been able to stand up after Junkyu's school exhibition. While the thought did nothing to improve his already unpleasant mood, it did inject a new kind of exhilaration in him. It was a crazy thought really - he knew it would never materialize. He would never be able to stand up for more than a few seconds at best.

A few seconds...but he wanted that.

"Mum...?", he said tentatively, very softly, not strong enough to carry all the way down. When still no help came, he sighed, gripping the arms of the chair in anticipation. Was he really going to stand up ? It felt so strange and alien upon his limbs...when only last year he had been the six foot three inches, bad boy rock n' roll fan, chains and skull earrings basketball champ at college. Only a few months previously, he had carried his boyfriend in his own arms. Who was he without this simple act of risk ?

He was going to stand up.

The saline stand gave one small final rattle and went still as Haruto's sweating, nervous fingers gripped it. His nails were cut short, his hands a smooth pink due to their lack of use. His veins popped out on his arms as he gritted his teeth. This was costing him more than just willpower. The simple effort of supporting himself was draining him of the minimal energy he had left. His toes curled up in his shoes and started shaking violently with every little attempt at standing up.

The boy let out a little groan, a pitiful plea to make the hurt stop when the IV needle quivered in the crook of his arm. He still wanted to stand up. If not for himself, then at least for Junkyu. The younger yearned to see the strong, powerful Haruto he had come to know. He knew it. He had seen it clearly in the other's eyes. That sense of betrayal. Of not being able to believe in himself. Of being lost in some endless void of cluelessness. This wasn't how he had wanted Junkyu's future to be like. Junkyu needed to see he could be strong when he wanted to. That he was still the Haruto Watanabe who had tied his shoelaces at the airport.