I'm fine
Drop tears in the morning
Give in to the lonely
Here it comes with no warning
Capsize, I'm first in the water
Too close to the bottom
I'm right back where I started
Said I'm fine

- Emily Warren, Frenship

"The water would heal me." Haru said blankly, face seeming too blandly serious for any fibre of his being to betray the fact that he was joking when he said that. To be fair, Haru was never the humours type (especially when it came to his beloved water), and neither did Rin expect to find anyone in this situation kidding around about a cure, so he wasn't sure why he thought Haru was making stuff up out of pure amusement...

Obviously, Haru wasn't joking, of course. Rin knew the fact as well as he knew his own name, but knowing was different from believing. Knowing was too harsh, too concrete, too certain, so he refused to accept reality. Instead he chose to believe there was a fraction of a chance Haru was lying, that he was still sane.

Maybe a part of him wanted just a hint of lightheartedness, reassurance, or the slightest signs of recovery to glaze over those seemingly colourless, distant eyes, since Haru's bored, negative apathy was not hopeful in the slightest. The Haru-before-he-got-sick-Haru was truly not very different from the bland, serious, unemotional Haru lying in the bed before him, but the differences were made painfully clear with just a single look towards those tired, dull almost-grey eyes, and Rin would suddenly find himself longing after a person that was so far back into the past, yet physically right in front of him.

His chest ached every time his thoughts wondered off to things like that, and after, he'd find his mind hating himself for it – for wanting an unrealistic dream to come true, for wanting something so selfish, and for it all hurting so much after he'd catch himself thinking down that path.

He knew Haru knew, of course, that Rin wanted things back the way they were before. Hell, they all wanted life to return back to what it was like a few months ago. It would be insane not to desire for the past again, just as insane to think water cured cancer.

...But it felt too selfish, coming from him, wishing and hoping for the past – the past before the smell of disinfectant was constantly surrounding his nostrils, the past before all afternoons and mornings were spent in an uncomfortable chair next to a stiff bed, the past before he had to helplessly look at his friend's pale, shallow face and tired, unlit, dim dying eyes, knowing there was absolutely nothing he could possibly do to fix any of it.

So Rin laughed... well tried. Not so much as a breathy chuckle left his lips, and it didn't stop him from feeling the suffocating, icy sensation of guilt and hopelessness that smothered and constricted his lungs; but he needed to believe everything was still complete-un-fucked-up when it wasn't in the slightest.

"It's been a month in here and the separation anxiety towards the pool is hitting hard, huh?" Rin said, despite knowing that the comment slightly teasing the other teen was most definitely true on all emotional, physical and spiritual levels within Haruka's being. In all seriousness, Haru had wanted to dive straight into the pool again from day one since this all began. It hurt Rin possibly as much as it hurt Haru whenever the latter was told swimming wasn't the best idea for him right now from the nurses or the oncologist. It was only after Haru carelessly 'discharged' himself a night later (thankfully with Rin, completly against the idea but unable to keep Haru in the hospital room), both he and and the ruby-haired teen truly found out that they who warned Haruka were heart-crushingly right to do so.

Swimming was too much. The water, once alive and this unimaginable sense of serenity to the boy, was now as painful and crushing as watching his best friend heave and bite down on his lip whenever the painkillers just wouldn't kick in, or knowing the feeling before a panic attack where one would think suffocating on air was a legitimate possibility. The way Haru achingly, forcibly pushed his arms, chest, legs through the water's surface were weak, lifeless, no matter how hard he fought against the fact that he just couldn't do it.

He'd been on the verge of collapsing in the water that night, the only thing supporting him upright was Rin, feeling like he was drowning, himself, despite standing in the shallowest end of the pool – not even 15 meters out, as Haru didn't make it any further than that. He wasn't heavy either, with his arm hanging around Rin's own shoulders, glued to his side because there was no way in hell Rin would let go. Hot gasping breaths came heaving from Haru's mouth, his head lolling lazily against Rin's neck as he got both himself and his best friend out of the water.

Haru always had to be dragged from the water, ever since Rin had known him back when they were only just children. It was either Makoto's motherly nagging and whining from across the pool saying something like, 'you can't stay in there forever, Haru,' or Nagisa's exasperated, 'Haru-chaaaan, you're not a mermaid! We have to go home now!', or Rin's attempts to use (admittedly, smirkingly mischievous) physical force, to finally get his friend out of the pool. He wondered if Makoto still nagged liked that only a few months before this, if he still pulled his best friend from the bathtub every morning, if Iwatobi swimming practices were anything like the Samezuka join ones where Haru just would not leave which (somewhat amusingly to all the other high-schoolers) resulted in the rest of the Iwatobi swimmers and himself looking like a completely embarrassed family.

What a pain, Rin used to think, but as bothersome and as mortifying those frequent moments were for any one around to witness Nanase Haruka and his agonising departure from his beloved water, Rin would've traded all of those times in the past with these recent moments trapped inside a stuffy hospital in a heartbeat.

The word 'loss' alwaysscreams itself throughout Rin's head because he constantly witnesses more parts of Haru die.

It'd been at least three and a half weeks since that day, and Rin would've called Haru lucky if he'd been able to stay in the same condition: still weak, still pale, still ill – but he wouldn't be any more so than now... What a fucking joke. Now, it seemed, he was wishing for Haru to be as sick as he was a couple weeks ago, if it saved him from being as sick as he was now.

Deciding, he's done with thinking, wishing, wanting, Rin pulled his mind back towards the present. This was supposed to be a conversation, apparently, not a time for all the cobwebs of his mind to be dugout with painful tools like spares and heavy metallic shovels.

The comment didn't seem to be found amusing by the other teen – not that Rin himself particularly did either –, evidently shown by the dull eyes that were lazily half closed and his lips that were twisted in a tired frown. The expression was more than it usually was, and that made something churn uneasily within Rin's stomach that had nothing to do with the unease of making what could have been an apparently offensive comment.

Rin instead chose to huff a small laugh at the plain nothingness, more so sounding like a tired sigh one made when trying to sound like they hadn't given up hopelessly, but had. "At least this room has a bath, right?" He suddenly blurted out painfully, the atmosphere getting denser as the vibe shifted away from melancholy to more of an awkwardness.

Haru either didn't notice or care for Rin's attempts to lighten the scene. He truly was not joking about the water, much to Rin's discomfort, but ultimately unsurprise. "It's not the same. That water is de-fanged, dull, trapped. You can't feel it the way you can when you swim with it. It's not alive."

Rin tried to look at Haru in a way that at least gave an effort to understand what the other was going on about, but it was hopeless. Pure confusion darted his features, and it sure didn't help that Haru was clearly showing no signs of elaborating or explaining how water could be described as 'not alive', exactly. Frankly, the teen looked a little like Rin was the stupid one for seeming like an idiot, and not understanding what the other was obviously saying. "A bath is not a pool, Rin. It's not swimming." Haru said blandly, and Rin thought he saw annoyance flash through his face, but he couldn't be sure. Whatever emotion it was was gone as soon as it was brought on.

A sigh left Rin's lips, a warm and breathy feeling leaving his mouth. It was then when he found himself again, aware of what Haru felt, and tried to make an effort to make it all okay... again. "Look, I'm sorry. I promise, once this is all over, I'll let you have the whole Samezuka pool all by yourself. You can swim again... with water that's 'alive',or whatever..." Rin's words carried on, faded away into the plainness of the hospital room since neither spoke. Partly, they didn't want to think of when all over was, as these initial three months alone were by far only the beginning (no matter how painfully dreadful it had been so far); but, the thought did put a light flicker behind Haru's eyes, and behind Rin's, at the sight.

"You'll be there too," The quiet teen said, voice heavy with a feeling of longing Rin would've never associated with him before now. Haru needed not only to swim again, but for Rin to be right alongside him to be truely healed – to be truely free... And for Rin to come to this realisation, when the weight of Haru's words finally sunk in and for his dim eyes to speak even more on top of that, the familiar watery pressure built up behind his irises and the tears came hot and fast down his face, yet, at this point, expectedly.

Rin, nowadays it seemed, never did have a day that didn't involve crying – wether at the drop of a hat or something heartbreakingly remorseful. Though, since this whole thing started, Haru, on the other hand, has never shed a tear once.

"O-Of course." Rin sniffled, wiping his nose and eyes with his jacket's sleeve, making his puffy eyelids and cheeks go even more red. Why he still tried to hide the fact he was clearly on the verge of straight up bawling was beyond both of them, yet the sense of unimaginable radiance streaming throughout Rin's body almost made the uncontrollable happy/characteristic crying of his lose it's importance and they both lost the ability to care.

"Come here," Haru rolled his eyes, shuffling over to one side of the single hospital bed, creating a space for Rin which the crimson-haired boy hopped into. They'd done this for a while, simply holding each other close, solely for the purpose of comfort and closeness when they both needed it the most. Together, their two bodies leaked warmth from the rising blood through their veins and the feverish heat radiating from their skin. It made them feel connected and safe while simply cuddling on the little bed, arms around the other's or meeting up to interlock in the middle between them both. Neither cared what the nurses or their other friends thought when they happened to walk in on a particularly woeful moment, and frankly no one cared either, as their moments were just that: their moments. Special, comforting, serene and how an emotional, worrisome, sentimentally tender-hearted friend and a tired, expressionless, uncertainly dying leukemia cancer patient dealt with their own problems together.

Typically, the next question would be a simple, "How are you?" at which it was, though his time it left Haru's lips.

Rin's face, which had become buried in the other teen's shoulder for the last couple of minutes, looked up to meet his eyes. Something didn't sit right with how a dying leukaemia patient was asking that to a perfectly fine and healthy athlete, and it made Rin feel selfish once again. "Shouldn't I be the one asking you that?"

For a second, he could have sworn irritation flooded through Haru's features, but it was too quickly swept away with an expression that was more worn-out, more frequently used. "No," he said, quietly but with a sense of gravity weighing it down that made it seemed ten times more louder. "I hate that question."

There was an unspoken, 'everyone knows the answer' attached to his words, but they both let it slip away into the rest of the silence. It was almost laughable, Rin mused, in the most devastating way. It was a question so frequently used, it's basically lost all meaning in conversation; and yet it's become a question Haru most despises. Reason being, in hospitals it does have a meaning and a pathetic 'I'm normal' won't pass as the right answer if Haru or any other patient responded with that towards a nurse or their doctor and oncologist. Rin had seen enough of Haru getting fed up in trying to explain his actual state of being, both physically and mentally, to know.

Instead, Rin took the role of patient and hopefully erased that unwanted worrying and attention the people around here annoyingly gave Haru, at least just for the moment. "I don't know. I'm... anxious, I guess?"

Haru scoffed, the closest thing to a laugh Rin had heard from him in a long, long time, and though he knew it wasn't what he wanted it to be, it still brought the corners of his lips to turn upwards and for the tears to leak ever so slightly down his face again. "Mastuoka Rin? Anxious? I don't think those things are even remotely related to be able to be said in a sentence together."

Rin gave the faintest of shoves towards Haru in retaliation, as, "Shut up, idiot." left his upturned lips. He was smiling, he realised. Was Haru, too? Rin wasn't sure, the teen was looking down at the blanket across his legs, most of his face hidden by his hair.

"Anxious about what?" Haru quietly asked, plainly and without emotion. No, he wasn't smiling. Rin could tell in the way he spoke.

It took the redhead a second or two to forget about analysing his friend's voice, and remember that they were supposed to be having a conversation. Did Haru really need to ask why he was anxious?

"For you, of course. Tsk." Rin's face burnt ruby as he sharply turned away from Haru, even though the latter wasn't looking at him.

"Don't be." Haru said.

It was two words, spoken not much louder than anything else he had said today, but it made Rin feel so empty. This was Haru saying he was okay, right? It didn't feel like it. This was the boy that never cried, that never said anything other than he was 'fine', yet why did it seem like the opposite of fine instead? There was nothingness within those colourless eyes of Haru's, and his whole demeanour just screamed apathy, like he no longer wanted for anyone to ask him how he was, as he no longer could answer. He just didn't care about himself enough to have the energy to reply truthfully. Admittedly though, no one needed Haru to verbally tell them how he was feeling, anyways. Anyone would only need one look at his dying, grey eyes or smell the bloodied tissues, vomit and stench of hospital in the room to know.

"Haru–"

"I'm serious." Haru snapped suddenly, with emotion Rin had thought he had wanted to see appear on Haru's face. Anger lit up like a flame, though in a way that burned up the smallest of embers, rather than a flourishing livid fire. It was the bitter, distant, cold type of anger. "Don't worry about me, Rin." He muttered, and yet, after Haru's short-lived anger died, they both still knew the unspoken answer to the 'how are you?' question.

Anyone in his situation could be devastated, enraged, distressed and no one would blame them for it. The universe decided to throw a shit storm of horrific luck their way, cursing them with being betrayed by their own bodily cells, so therefore they had the right to react in any emotionally explosive way they pleased; and yet instead, Haru lacked emotion entirely throughout this whole ordeal, and now it was at the point where Rin was scared.

"I'll make you care," Rin muttered back, in the same voice he used when he was determined to show Haru a sight he'd never seen before, with the same face that was lit up in explosive, fiery heat when he'd been fixated on swimming with him again – back in a time that seemed like centuries ago. His heart ached as badly as it did when he'd told the other boy he wouldn't dare leave him to fight alone throughout this, and now he felt his lungs burn, wondering why breathing had suddenly become so difficult.

"What are you talking about now? Who said I didn't?" Was the reply, and it felt like a lie, even though Haru spoke a question that wasn't supposed to be answered from the way his empty voice and stiff body language shut off the conversation.

Rin's chest was burning, his heart pumping blood so fast that he felt it in his ears, the sound of thump thump thump accompanying it – too fast, too loud, too much. He couldn't tell if he was angry or panicked or afraid or weak, but one thing was sure: Haru was doing this to him – him and his stupid, stupid apathetic self-carelessness. It felt so wrong to be feeling so much when the person beside him felt nothing. "I'm talking about you; yourself – that's what you don't care about."

"I care."

No, no he didn't, and Rin could see it, hear it, feel it just as clearly as he felt his own temperature rise. "Haru, stop it, take this seriously and listen to me. I know that expression, that... dead look in your eyes, the way you just don't give a shit about anything anymore."

If he no longer cared about himself, what was the point in even fighting anymore? What was to stop his friend from ripping out the tube injecting treatment into his body? What is the point in keeping a person alive against their own will?

Now Rin knew his lungs and heart were made of glass, hurting so much that he didn't even register the fact that they were on overdrive. His face was hot, his skin feverish to the touch, eyes blurring in and out as tears he didn't know he shed fell streaming down his cheeks. His eyes hurt, his heart hurt, his head –

"Rin," Haru's voice was like a lifeline, grounding him to the present reality, or like a lighthouse in a storm of darkening chaos. And God, he needed to keep hearing it. Please, please don't–

Haru's hands had found themselves gently on either side of the other boy's face, stroking Rin's tears and crimson hair away from his face with his own thumb. "That's not true... I care, but... I'm just sick of being sick." Rin found himself searching for words to define Haru... and it was difficult: remorsefully satisfied, euphorically unhappy, chaotically calm. "I hate it, I hate myself, my stupid body."

Rin could see each word he spoke was a struggle, pained and broken. Haru's voice was raspy like his own probably was. And somehow, the ruby-haired teen didn't want the other to ever stop talking – the sound of his voice was something he wanted to hear for the rest of his life: beautifully cold – but it hurt just as much as everything else did in that very moment. "I don't wanna give up, but sometimes it feels like I'm not even trying to fight this, when I try so hard, Rin."

"I know, Haru," he breathed, voice strangled and heavy and containing everything that he had been hiding away. "I know that you fight. You're the strongest person I know. I-I see you everyday, everyday fighting a battle unrelentingly and extraordinarily and fiercely. I adore that power and resilience within you, even before this mess started. Y-You were always so much better than I could ever be in so many ways and I a-adored that. I just hate myself for watching you fight this alone... Haru, it h-hurts so much – but in a way that's so different from your pain, though. And then I hate m-myself even more because I'm c-crying and why should I be crying? I'm so fucking selfish or uncaring or... fuck – what's the word? I don't have to deal with anything you do. I'm not sick, I'm fucking fine, but just looking at you makes me feel so..."

His words were overlapping each other, pouring out continuously – Rin wasn't even aware of the shakiness or the wetness or the heat at which his voice and face felt like. He wanted to run, swim, escape from whatever this sensation was that made his heart beat at maximum rate, and lungs feel as if they were going to explode.

It was chaos, Rin thought. He was the chaos. He was the one who wanted Haru back the way he used to be, he was the one who felt pain and was hurting when he was absolutely fucking fine, and now he was the one who couldn't keep his stupid thoughts inside his brain and keep them from affecting him like they were now – unable to think, to see, to breathe–...

And suddenly, Rin could...

There were lips upon his lips, hands against his cheeks, closed eyelids in front of his own tearful, blown-wide ones.

Rin didn't take in air – couldn't... but he could breathe again.

Haru tasted like the colour grey – like mint toothpaste used after every time the chemo made him throw up; like plain hospital fruit juice that was supposed to have lots of vitamins in it for him to consume; like cheap coconut lip balm that he used to rehydrate his chapped, dry lips; like the essence of blood that sometimes came from either a bleeding mouth or bloodied nose that he was accustomed to dealing with by now... but it was perfect.

Haru was chaos, too. Beautiful chaos that was far from apathetic or ashen or dead.

There was fire in the atmosphere, in the ward, in the room where Rin didn't think anything livid could thrive – but it did. When Haru's mouth left his own, it left a trail of heat behind, a flame that could never be burned out. Rin lived for that flame. There was a spark inside him that only Haru could ignite, and when he did, it was the most euphoric sensation he could have ever felt.

He needed that flame, that spark. He needed Haru–

"Rin, you're stupid."

Haru's breaths were soft and angelic-like against Rin's warm, tear-soaked, pink cheek. The delicate ends of Rin's eyelashes grazed the other's. This moment was too serene, too radiant for it to be ruined. He didn't care enough to be offended.

"Huh?"

"You're hurting because I'm hurting, and it's not selfishness. It's love."

Rin could see, clear as day, that half of Haru's pain was his own, too.

A/N

ahaAhhAHah... this story was a mess and all over the place, i'm sorry ('• ω •') ! plus i probably got the characters wrong – or the way i expressed them, i mean. it was supposed to be a story that brought out how rin dealt and felt about this 'shit-storm situation' despite being the sick one, hence why it's (for the most part, i tried, okay?) in his point of view.

well, i hope you still liked it anyway ¯\_ツ_/¯ ! it was less angst then i usually write (though it still contains some angst (ᴗᨓᴗ) ) but... it ended sweetly, right ^‿^ ? hm, i think that's the first time i've actually written two characters kiss! wow X3

- CyanGalaxy