The beeping sounds resounded in the still room, a single, white-sheeted bed rested in the center of the floor. There was only one person currently occupying the space and he stayed silent save for the pencil he used to draw on the rough sketch paper set on his lap. The windows located behind the boy were tightly shut and the light that filtered in through the glass panes caused his pale skin to seem nearly translucent.
His black hair looked as though it were already graying and his eyes became more tired as the days passed but his bright smile stayed constant. However, he found it harder to smile recently except for when someone would come visit him.
He sighed, thinking of how the one person he wanted to see had been the only one to not show. It hurt to think of the reasons why she might be avoiding coming and often the boy would feel his chest tighten up that the memory of her smile that now seemed so distant.
That smile that he so often found littering the pages of his sketchbook.
That smile he so dearly missed.
The room fell completely silent again as his hand quivered, stopping his sketching altogether.
Plop, plop… the boy's vision slowly blurred, similarly to when an attack began, but he knew that wasn't the case this time.
Plop, plop, plop.
The agonizing sound of sobs being choked back and of tears hitting paper.
Before long, the boy found it extremely hard to see anything but the two blurred faces on the sketchbook's page. Two faces brightly smiling together, as they had so long ago in their little class of two.
How long had it even been since the frail boy had been seated in that leftmost desk in the science storage room? How long had it last been since he had heard his classmate's grumbling words as she received yet another packet of math sheets?
How long would it be until he heard that again?
Would he ever?
As the next wave of emotion hit him, he let out a few strangled sobs. More tears fell onto the image in front of him.
"Takane, please…"
The words weren't meant to escape from his lips but they sounded in the echoes of the room anyways.
His fingers grasped the bed sheets tightly as he pulled his knees up, as close as he could manage as more droplets ran down his cheeks and smeared the beautifully drawn face of the girl he'd held so dearly.
Finally, the boy freely wept in the empty room. At some point, he recalled the tears running dry and the hiccups in his throat racking his whole upper body.
He had never been one to complain or to think anything along the lines of 'why me' but in that solitary moment, he was filled with so many of those dreadful thoughts that he couldn't do anything but clutch the book in his arms.
The pain in his chest hurt so badly and his eyes felt so heavy, he just wanted to sleep, but this feeling of wanting rest was unfamiliar; it was not the drowsiness of sleep but the calling from death himself that tugged at the boy's being.
Yet he still fought, he needed to wait until that girl would appear and until he could finally, finally tell her.
As his breathing became steadily shallower though, he knew that time was up.
He smiled, the gesture so bittersweet, and the held the open page to his chest as he closed his eyes. Liquid again formed at his eyes but he kept his smile.
Beep, Beep, Beep.
A steady rhythm sounded with his heartbeat.
Beep… Beep… Beep…
The pattern became slower.
"Takane… I love you…"
Plop, small circular spots appeared on the pillows beside his head.
Then, the last sound ushered from the boy—an exhale of air—sounded in time with the loud, ringing sound of Haruka Kokonose's heart monitor flat-lining.