Notes: Despite how much I love this series, the only stories I can think up are depressing. Or just insane. I probably should've stuck with insane.

Warning: I tend to prefer implication than describing things in graphic detail, but the topics are still of a mature nature, so, yeah.

Summary: There was nothing Takemoto could do to help Hagu heal. Nothing legal, anyway. But is it still love, to give of yourself when there's nothing left to give?

All I Have to Give

A Honey & Clover Oneshot by

Nate Grey (xman0123-at-aol-dot-com)


It began innocently enough.

Hanamoto was sitting outside Hagu's hospital room, outwardly reading a newspaper while inwardly waiting for Hagu to wake up, when a small wad of cash was thrust into his face.

"For Hagu-chan's treatment," Takemoto said with an awkward smile.

Hanamoto was no fool. He knew that Takemoto couldn't afford to just give away money like that. But he also knew why Takemoto was doing it. "You don't have to do this, you know. I'm not rich, but I can afford to take care of her for a long time yet."

But Takemoto wouldn't take the money back. "It's not about whether you can afford it, Sensei. If Hagu-chan knows that her friends are willing to pay for her success, surely that'll motivate her to try even harder!"

He had a point, but that in no way changed Hanamoto's feelings on the matter. "I appreciate what you're trying to do. But wouldn't it be easier for you to keep the money, and just tell her that?"

"You mean lie to her?" Takemoto asked, frowning. "I can't do that. Why can't you just take-"

"Because I know you need it more than she does."

Takemoto flinched, but still didn't draw back the hand with the money in it. "So... if I just leave this here with you... you're saying you won't use it to help Hagu-chan?"

Hanamoto sighed and closed his eyes. "Keep your money."

But when he opened his eyes, Takemoto was gone. The money wasn't.

"Dammit," Hanamoto whispered... but he gathered up the money, anyway. If the fool was going to throw away hard-earned money, it might as well go towards Hagu's treatment. But next time, he'd have to be firmer with Takemoto. And there would be a next time, he was all too certain of that.


The wad of cash was nearly three times larger on Takemoto's visit to the hospital the following week.

Hanamoto was impressed, but not enough to accept the money. He detected a faint odor of cigars coming from it, and from Takemoto himself. "How are the boys down at the racetrack?"

"Fine," Takemoto said simply. "Will you please use this for Hagu-chan's treatment?"

"You can't keep doing this."

"If Hagu-chan asks me to stop, then I might consider it."

Hanamoto winced. How could Takemoto have guessed that he wouldn't tell her the last time? "It would probably make her cry. You know sensitive Hagu is."

Takemoto nodded. "It may. But she'll understand."

He left the money again, and Hanamoto gathered it up again, hating himself and Takemoto a little more.


Unfortunately, they were both right.

Hagu did cry... but she also understood.

"Asking him to stop won't do any good right now, Shuu-chan," she sighed. "Don't you see? Takemoto-kun is doing this because it's the only thing he can do for me. If I asked him to stop, it would break his heart."

"Better his heart than both of his legs. This won't end well, Hagu. He's going to get into some serious trouble trying to help you."

She shook her head. "That won't matter to him. Even if I begged him to stop, I don't think he would. Not yet, at least."

Hanamoto frowned at her. "Why not?"

"Because he loves me," Hagu whispered, wiping away her tears. "He feels like he has to try. So I'll let him, for a little while. Don't worry. I'll stop him before he takes things too far."

Hanamoto believed her. At least, he believed that Hagu would try her best. But somehow, he knew it wouldn't be enough.


That Hanamoto had been wrong was only a small relief. The next week that Takemoto visited, he did so on two healthy legs.

The broken arm hardly even slowed him down.

Hanamoto took a long, obvious look at the arm in the sling before moving his gaze up to Takemoto's face. "Do I even need to say anything this time?"

"Then I guess I don't, either," Takemoto agreed, handing him the money.

"I can't take that unless you have a way to pay back the loan sharks."

"I do."

Hanamoto didn't like the sound of that as he pocketed the money. "Is it less or more dangerous?"

"I definitely won't owe any money afterwards, if that's what you mean."

"You know it isn't."

"Did Hagu-chan ask for me to stop?" Takemoto questioned.

He thought about lying, but knew it would do no good. "No, damn you, but that's no reason to-"

"I'll see you next week, Sensei."

Hanamoto wasn't sure what he dreaded more: the shape Takemoto would show up in next, or the possibility that something might prevent him from doing so.


Takemoto was two hours late the next time, and smelled suspiciously of soap and shampoo, but other than a noticeable limp, appeared to be okay. Which wasn't really saying much, especially considering how much more money he had to offer.

Hanamoto didn't say anything, at first. But when Takemoto held out the money, he made a point of grabbing the boy's good arm and dragging him closer, until they were looking into each other's eyes. He was no expert, but the way Takemoto's eyes shifted away nervously, the way they had lost some of their brilliance, and the heavy odor of beer and mouthwash on his breath told Hanamoto nothing good.

"You know, when a man that's constantly bruised suddenly looks less bruised, it means one of two things. Either he's turned his life around for the better, or he's gotten himself into something even worse, that doesn't leave obvious marks on the outside. But let me tell you something, Takemoto. The worst stains are the ones that you can't see. And you'd better pray that Hagu can't see them, either. Because from now on, if you want to pay for her treatment, you're going to have to hand the money to her in person, so she can see what you're doing to yourself."

Takemoto didn't say anything, and the broken look on his face almost convinced Hanamoto to give the boy a hug. But something told him that would only make Takemoto feel much, much worse.


The next time Takemoto visited, he was being dragged along by Morita, although not for the usual reasons. Takemoto was much paler than he should've been, and seemed like he would've fallen over if Morita hadn't kept an iron grip on his arm.

Naturally, Hagu was glad to see them both, and especially what she first thought of as their newfound closeness.

Takemoto was nervous, and thankfully, he obviously wasn't going to try to give Haku the money in front of Morita. So even though Hanamoto knew he was just enabling the boy, he waited until Morita had planted Takemoto firmly in a chair. Then he dragged Morita outside of Hagu's room for a chat.

"Tell me you didn't give him the money."

"I didn't," Morita replied. "He earned it himself."

"But you know how, don't you?"

Morita's gaze was steady and unrepentant. "He asked me for a fast way to make money, and I told him."

Hanamoto sighed. "What did it cost him this time? What could he possibly have left to give?"

"Did you know? If you go to the right people at the right time, you can live like a king off of a piece of lung that fits in your hand. It's just a matter of how much you can do without."

"So now he's hacking off organs and selling them off to the highest bidder?"

"Parts of organs," Morita corrected. "Better than losing the whole thing. And of course to the highest bidder. Who else would he give them to?"

"People who need them and can't pay for them?"

"Takemoto is already poor. You want him to be poor AND sick, just for a good cause?"

"Isn't that what he's doing, anyway, for Hagu?"

Morita shrugged. "That's different."

"How?!"

"Because it's her."

Hanamoto hated Morita for saying it. He hated himself even more for understanding and agreeing with it.


Takemoto didn't actually put the money in Hagu's hand. Even this week, he felt it was dirty (though still far cleaner than last week's bundle), so he put it on the little table beside her bed. All the while, he was silently praying that she wouldn't ask how he'd gotten it.

"Will you sit with me for a little while, Takemoto-kun?" Hagu asked. "I feel like we haven't talked in a long time."

"I feel the same way," he agreed, scooting his chair a little closer to her bed. "I've been busy with different jobs lately."

"And then you give all your money to me."

"...yes."

She smiled, unable to stop the tears from spilling over her cheeks. "You'll have to lean over, I'm afraid. I'm tired today, so I can't kiss your cheek from here."

"You don't have to do that, Hagu-chan. That isn't why I did this."

"I know. But I want to."

Takemoto had dreamed of a moment like this, but found he couldn't enjoy it. He was too worried that with him being that close, Hagu would see how pale and thin he really was. But he couldn't deny her anything.

Hagu took her time raising her head, and Takemoto wondered if she were doing that on purpose, but brushed that thought quickly from his mind. Then he felt her soft, small lips against his cheek, and all thoughts fled from his mind.

At least, until three seconds had passed, and Hagu still hadn't pulled away. Then Takemoto's conscience reminded him of what that single kiss had cost him, and he jerked his head away almost violently, barely able to look at her.

Hagu watched him with an infinitely sad expression on her face, but at least she didn't seem hurt by his actions.

"I... I'll go get Morita-san for you," Takemoto said at last, turning to leave.

"Takemoto-kun, wait."

He paused, not turning around, fearing what he might see.

"If whatever you did to earn this money means you can't accept a kiss from a friend... maybe you shouldn't do it anymore?"

"Are you asking or telling, Hagu-chan?"

"Neither. I'm begging."

Takemoto didn't answer, but Hagu could tell from the way that he fled the room that her plea had reached him.


Takemoto was jerked from a restless sleep two nights later to find Hanamoto leaning over him. "Sensei, what...?"

"I've already packed up everything you'll need," Hanamoto said gruffly. "Take a shower, put on the clothes I left out, and let's go."

"Where-?"

"Move!" Hanamoto grabbed his collar and dragged him out of bed, shoving him towards the bathroom. "You've got ten minutes! Any longer and I'm coming in after you!"

Takemoto was done in six.

The moment he was dressed, Hanamoto grabbed his collar again and hauled him outside, where Morita was cramming the last of Takemoto's belongings into the back of a truck.

"What's going on?!" Takemoto demanded, only to get a cold look from Morita.

"She chose you," Hanamoto said simply, "because you can't be trusted to take care of yourself anymore, you idiot."

The blood drained from Takemoto's face. "But she can't! Sensei, you have to-!"

"Don't be stupid. Hagu chose me, too. This only means you're going to live with us now. But don't read too much into it. I'd rather have Morita sharing her room than this arrangement."

Morita opened his mouth to say something, but a glare from Hanamoto made him think twice.

"I guess congratulations are in order," Hanamoto grunted once they'd all piled into the truck, with Morita behind the wheel. "You won the girl, even if it was through pity."

This was clearly the wrong thing to say, because Morita spent the next twenty minutes trying to steer them clear off the road and into ditches, hoping to only seriously mangle himself and get more sympathy than Takemoto.


Takemoto quickly realized that Hanamoto had not been kidding when he'd said that Hagu was worried about him. Despite the fact that they were supposed to be living together, neither trusted Takemoto to stay alone, so almost all of his time with one or the other. Most often he was left at the hospital with Hagu while Hanamoto took care of other things. This was not nearly as enjoyable as Takemoto had hoped: Hagu looked at him differently now, as if he were the one that needed to be taken care of. Any illusions Takemoto had about their relationship vanished when the nurses began to ask why he wouldn't leave.

"It's okay," Hagu told them with a watery smile, "he's my brother."

She might as well have just said that he was some boy she chose not to love. It would've hurt less, at least. But Takemoto was long past the point where he'd ever expected Hagu to return his love. He'd destroyed any chance of her seeing him that way by destroying himself. But however she felt about him, he could at least say that he had her full attention whenever Hanamoto wasn't around. Not even Morita could say that anymore.

Not that Morita was saying much of anything these days. Mostly he kept his distance, as if Takemoto had broken some sort of unwritten code about how far a guy was allowed to go, in order to impress a girl. But he hadn't impressed Hagu. Broken her heart and held it hostage with guilt, but certainly not impressed. Takemoto could see that each time he looked into her eyes, whether she wanted him to or not.

There were times when he thought that just being able to look into Hagu's eyes, whenever he wanted, was more than worth what he'd given up.

And then there times when he absolutely had to believe that, because otherwise he'd ruined his life for a girl who could only feel pity for him now, and that was far worse.

The End.


Endnotes:

I feel dirty now. Really. Writing an unfunny Morita will do that, I guess.