Zoro heard how the staircase door was opened and closed. Loud steps climbed closer and then they stopped. Zoro moved his head slightly and for some seconds he met a single blue eye, but the owner of it quickly looked away and sat down. The stairs were cold and the staircase depressingly pale and white, but there was no point in saying something like that out loud. Zoro was there too, after all, just laying few steps above.

The stranger sighed. Zoro moved his head a bit again, so he could see a blond head.

"So, what's your story?"

The stranger turned around and his expression changed from confusion into irritation. His eyebrows were funny and his hair covered the other eye.

"My story? Do I need to have a specific story, because I'm here?"

Zoro chuckled a little and turned his head to see the ceiling again. He put his hands on his stomach.

"I don't know. I was just wondering, because usually people have a reason to come here. I mean, this is a staircase."

"So, what, you're here often?"

The blond man got up and climbed few steps to sit closer. He didn't seem sad, depressed or crazy. He didn't seem sick. He looked, well, not old, but mature, though there was some child-like curiosity in his tiny smile.

"Sometimes", Zoro answered truthfully. "I liked the roof before, but they found out I was there. This is a place they haven't discovered yet. I'll try someone's office next time."

"Oh."

That was a sympathetic, understanding oh. Zoro had heard those so many times he could hear different tones and he always knew exactly what it meant. Sometimes there was pity, sometimes there was pointless support. It was stupid, really, because people never meant to let loose anything special. They just wanted to make some kind of sound.

"They think I'm sick", the blond man said casually.

This time Zoro made a strange sound.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I've been here many times before and I'm kind of used to it."

Zoro looked at the blond man and the blond man looked back. Then they both looked away again and kept it quiet for few minutes. Someone walked in a staircase above, but never came down enough to see them. They could hear fuzzy noises from a busy corridor behind the door.

"What kind of stories you've heard here?"

Zoro smiled.

"You mean here - or here?"

"I don't know", the stranger laughed and waved his hands to point everything around him.

"Once there was this woman, whose daughter was really sick. She came here to think and she shared few of her thoughts. Then there was this furious man, whose wife had been using drugs, though she'd always said she doesn't. Few days ago a weird kid was lost. And this one nurse. I had to run."

The blond man chuckled and poked Zoro. It was probably just a normal reaction, which came totally without thinking about it, but they both still froze.

"Have you met anyone with - with not that much time left?" the stranger whispered and moved his fingers to touch Zoro's shoulder.

"I haven't."

They fell in silence again, but this time they kept staring at each other. There was something so familiar they wanted to look at and yet something so unrecognizable they wanted to analyze it. The blond man tilted his head and raised his fingers to touch Zoro's cheek.

"Don't."

The words echoed. The stranger's expression stoned and he pulled his hand back to himself. He tilted his head a bit more and just stared.

And then he smiled again. He got up and jumped the stairs down to the door. Zoro startled to a sitting position and let out some kind of sound - just like before.

"Are you going to die?"

The blond man turned around. He was still the same; he didn't look sad, depressed or crazy. He didn't look like a sick person, but neither did Zoro.

"Yeah. Are you?"

"It's obvious, isn't it?"

"Not really."

"I am."

They understood each other perfectly. The blond man waved his hand, smiled as widely he could and opened the door.

"See you in heaven, then."

Zoro made a smile too. The best smile he had.

"Sure. We could hang out or something."