Hello~
I got bored the other day, so I decided to write a one-shot to fill in my time.
YEAH, YOU READ THAT RIGHT! It's an ANGST one-shot!
It has been a long time. The bright rays of summer brought in the cool autumn wind; the autumn has frozen into milk-white snow; the winter melted into the fresh scent of spring; the spring into, once again, the brilliant, shining rays of the summer sun. But no matter how many times the season change, my heart never did. It has never wavered since that summer day.
That summer, I was a typical 18-year old, doing what any average 18-year olds would be doing in the summer: going to the beach, having sleepovers with friends, going to summer camps, and the list goes on.
Only I wasn't all that typical, because how typical could an 18-year old girl with a rare chronic heart condition be?
My trip to the beach was only because my hospital was built somewhere near there. I could only stare at the Pacific Ocean through the windshield of my car, feel the sand that got blown all the way to the tarmacked road. My beach trip only lasted for a mere 15 minutes before my ride arrived at the hospital.
My sleepover with my friends was in a cream-colored hospital cell, together with nurses, doctors and other patients. The only pillow fights that happened were between the bed and my head when I slept. Unlike my trip to the beach, my sleepover lasted all summer.
The summer camp that I went to was full of activities such as taking IVs in and out of my bloodstream, going through therapy, taking my medications and whatnot. The camp leader was my doctor, Usui Takumi, who had only been my doctor for a month.
"You only have two months," his voice would occasionally ring inside my mind, like a daily alarm clock to remind me of my imminent death.
He'd suggested that I stayed full time on my summer holiday so that he could easily check up on me. My mom, feeling guilty that she'd only found out about my worsening heart condition a couple weeks ago, agreed to it, and so I was transported to the hospital right after I graduated from high school.
Eight weeks. Eight weeks and I would need to say goodbye to everyone and everything I loved: my mother, my sister, my hope of getting a scholarship in a high-class university…
All my dreams… all crushed because of my disease.
My first week in the hospital, Usui, who was – unbelievably – only 21, spent a lot of time with me, checking my heart rate, changing my IV bags, taking me out for a walk in my wheelchair with my IV pole strolling by my side, while in the same time talking to me, sharing personal experiences and secrets that he said he'd never told anyone before.
Even though I didn't answer even one of his questions, not even the simplest ones, not quite understanding what was the use of living if I knew that I only had a couple weeks left of life, he still continued doing just that, day after day, like a daily basis. Slowly, he made me feel comfortable in the hospital, and I slowly accepted my room as a decent room, and not a jail cell.
As the second week strolled by, I started replying to Usui's questions. I started off by just saying a simple yes or no, with a nod or a shake. I stayed silent when the blond came into more personal stuff, like what my dream was, what my hobby was, et cetera. At that time, it didn't seem necessary for me to share such information to a stranger that I'd only met through an illness.
But he seemed to understand my silence and not mistake it as hostility. He made me feel as if I could share anything with him, and he would never leak it out. He was easily anyone's best buddy.
The third week came in the blink of an eye. I asked if I may walk on my own, not wanting to have Usui carry me all the time, and he said yes. I would change into a sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants every time we went out to the hospital's outdoor garden, carrying my own IV pole with me, and he would drag me on a wheelchair every time I felt like fainting and bring me to my room to persuade me to let him carry me around in it again, only to have me turn him down each time.
His emerald green eyes, always filled with worry and care, sent nice chills down my spine whenever they landed on my hazel brown ones. I would look away whenever that happened, my cheeks a little flushed.
The last week of June, Usui started teaching me how to play the violin. He was a natural when it came to playing the violin. He would come up behind me and move my cadaverous hands for me, like I was some sort of puppet and he was the puppet master, his breath brushing against my bony pale cheek; he managed to make me play the song 'Twinkle Twinkle Little Stars'.
He proved to me that youth didn't mean restraint, that I should cherish my youth and try to grasp any knowledge available for me. He was my role model; he made me cherish the last weeks that I had.
The beginning of July, Usui took me out on a trip to the amusement park – with my mother's consent, of course. We rode his automobile there, bringing my IV pole with us in the trunk. We got on all the adrenaline-rushing rides that were there, possibly breaking every rule that the hospital had given us beforehand. When I nearly fainted, he carried me bridal style to his car, my ear against his well-sculpted chest, listening to his heartbeat like a lullaby, and the soft fabric of his V-neck tee on my cheek, the heat from his body warming my freezing body. I looked up at him through the small gap in between my semi-closed eyelids, and saw – with a shock – that he was looking down at me, worry and unadulterated care painted on his face.
He showed me that one could still have fun, even in the darkest of times. He placed a ball of warmth and hospitality inside of me, and my heart warmed up whenever he looked at me.
The sixth week of that summer, my condition worsened. My body was frail and shaky; Usui had to carry me around in a wheelchair every day. He, convinced that my worsening heart was his fault, apologized for bringing me to the amusement park. I said that it wasn't his fault, but he didn't believe me and stopped playing games and other fun activities with me. I begged him to take me out again, and, seeing how sad I was inside my room, he promised that he would.
He reminded me that, despite our dreams, bitter reality still existed in our world and that one couldn't just do anything that he or she wanted. He gave me a reality check, and I really appreciated it.
Two weeks before my alleged death, I got better and Usui brought me to an underwater world theme park. Usui and I got on the conveyor belt – me sitting in my wheelchair and Usui on his feet – and looked at miscellaneous fish at display. I'd never been to a theme park before, so he must've thought that I acted like a little child, with all the 'ooh's and 'ah's. He just chuckled when I asked him that, and the warmth inside me spread throughout my whole body.
He showed me my inner kid, the one that hadn't been showing itself since I found out about my condition.
Seven days before I would say goodbye, I spent all my time inside my room together with Usui, who had been more than happy to be there with me. I shared my stories, my dreams, with him, and he listened to every single word that came out of my mouth. I waited for my time, a smile on my face, because I had learned the meaning of life in two months, when others spent a lifetime to do so.
He taught me what teachers and professors couldn't: the real definition of life. The warmth inside me spread throughout my whole body, and I realized what it was: love. Love that I would never be able to express.
A week after my predicted death, I hadn't left the world. Usui said that maybe he got it wrong, and we celebrated with a small feast inside my room. Maybe, I thought, this was my chance to express my love. Maybe that was why I was still alive. Maybe I hadn't fully learned the meaning of life yet. I was missing something. Something really important.
Awkwardly, I wrapped my hands around Usui, who was sitting beside me on my bed, and muffled three words against his chest. Taken aback by my sudden embrace, he stayed silent for a moment before wrapping his own arms around me. My heart was beating hard against my ribs, and I feared that he could feel my rising heartbeat through the thin fabric of my hospital gown. Then he held me at arm's length and cupped my cheek. My heart drummed even harder.
He brought his face to mine, and our lips brushed.
The next day, another doctor told me that I got a heart donor. I wanted to share the joyful news to Usui, but the doctor said that he was busy. I went through the heart transplant and patiently waited inside my room for Usui to check up on me…
…but he never came.
The doctor that operated me went in my room, the expression on his face unreadable, and handed me an enveloped letter. On the envelope was my name, written in elegant cursive.
'Ayuzawa Misaki.'
With trembling hands, I peeled off the envelope and opened the letter inside. I had an odd feeling under my stomach, like something bad was about to happen, but I read it, anyway.
'I became a doctor because I had no choice. And just when I was about to give up on my job, you came in my life as a patient. You were so strong, despite all the problems you were facing; it encouraged me to do the same. You've taught me the meaning of life in just two months, while I'd been doing it unsuccessfully for years. You are the best thing that ever happened to me.'
I swallowed the cotton ball in my throat as the odd feeling continued to grow.
'I visit you tonight. You look so angelic and innocent under the moonlight; I almost lose control and hug you tight. Tonight, I give you my heart, so that you will be the only one who possesses it. I love you with all my heart, and now it's yours. Thank you for… everything. With love, Usui Takumi.'
My vision blurred as the paper dropped off my hands. I fell from my bed, pulling my IV tube down with me, hitting my head hard on the floor. But I didn't care. My mind was racing with thoughts; flash images came to life in my head.
Usui... gave me his heart?
Streaks of tears trickled down my face as the fact sank in.
Usui sacrificed everything, his brilliant career, his perfect future, just to give me his heart and save me from death...
A life for a life...
The alarms in my room went off, signaling doctors and nurses that something happened in my room. But the bells sounded distant, as if I was hearing it through a sheet of thick glass. People started storming in my room, gasping before pulling me and the things that I'd knocked over up. They asked me if I was alright, if I'd hurt my head from the fall, or if there was something they could do.
I wanted to scream, to order them to take the heart that was beating inside my body back to its owner, but my mouth suddenly went as dry as bone. I stayed silent as they tucked me back in.
Usui did it again. He'd managed to teach me another concept of life. He taught me – he showed me – how to love without limitations. He made me realize that if you truly love someone, you would do what was best for them, even if that meant putting yourself out of the equation.
But how was I going to continue living, when every beat from my heart – from his heart – was there to remind me that I was the reason of someone's death?
Someone who loved me so much, he sacrificed his perfect life just so that I could have mine.
That summer, I was a typical 18-year old, with a not-so typical heart condition, who learned the meaning of life, and ended one in process. My heart was stone, and no matter how many times the seasons change, my heart didn't.
But of course, I can't really say that my heart never changed, because it isn't even mine to begin with.
So... did you cry? (I hope you did XP LOL jkjk)
Please review and tell me how I did!