Chapter 2

Kashino's POV

~x~

If you've had someone in your life for years, and one day they leave, it isn't like you're losing them. It's like you're losing yourself.

~x~

"I have terminal cancer... it's already in Stage IV. The doctors say that I have little more than a week to live."

I stare at her, alarmed. "What? No! You can't be serious!" Panic jolts through me like the panic you feel when you touch a hot stove. And after the panic comes the pain...

"S-Sorry," she says quietly.

But... that can't be right. She was fine just a few days ago. Right...? "I get it," I begin slowly. "You're joking, aren't you? That isn't very funny."

"I'm not joking, Kashino." She says, purposely averting my glance. "Don't you get it? I'm dying. In a few days, I'll be gone from your life."

I shake my head, still unwilling to believe her. "You're a liar," I persist. "I've known you for so long, you can't just–"

She cuts me off before I can finish. "It wasn't my choice." Her voice is bitter, spiteful, and hurt. Hurt. "This... this is it. I hope you're happy." She stands up and exits the room, leaving me here alone.

And then the meaning behind her words hits me at full force. I feel tears blur my vision and trickle warmly down my cheeks.

"You can't just leave," I finish.

But it doesn't matter; she can't hear me anyways. Not for the first time, I wonder if it ever mattered at all.

~x~

I decide to apologize to her the next day. Everything I said was naive and ignorant and that's the last thing she needs right now.

Ichigo's in the baking room... I stay behind the door so I won't disrupt her while she's making sweets. She arranges the fresh strawberries on top of her tart before leaving it in the fridge.

Strawberry tart... "Sourire de l'Ange". That was French. What did it mean again? It had another significance besides the identification of the sweet... I try to remember, but I can't.

Ichigo takes a few steps forward and then loses her balance. My eyes widen as I scream her name, but she can't hear me. Her body pitches forward, coming dangerously close to the linoleum tiles, and then...

I catch her. I don't know how it happened; I don't know how it was even possible to run that fast. But I did it.

Holding her in my arms, I swear silently that I will never let her go again. I don't know why I ever did.

~x~

The ride to the hospital is excruciatingly long. Despite my efforts to keep calm, my hands start shaking violently on the way there.

This can't be it. She can't be dead. I swear, I haven't even had the chance to say goodbye...

~x~

They don't let me into her hospital room.

I have to wait outside for hours, trying to think through my anxiety and frustration and worry. Finally, I can't take it anymore.

When my sister walks down the hallway, I make sure to stop her...

"Miyabi."

Her expression doesn't change. "Excuse me, Makoto. You're blocking the way."

"Please let me in to see Amano Ichigo." Ichigo's first name feels strange and foreign to my lips, even though I've thought it about a million times.

My sister stares at me through piercing brown eyes; eyes that were once so soft and warm. But there's only coldness now. Coldness and hatred and shame. "Have the doctors given you permission to go in?" She demands, her tone unchanging.

"No," I answer. "That's exactly why I need your help. You could negotiate with them and–"

"Listen to the doctors, Makoto." She interrupts me. "You can go in when they let you."

My heartbeat spikes. I feel the blood drain from my face when I realize she's not going to help me. "No. No, I've waited outside for hours... please, I need to see her. I need to know if she's okay..."

Miyabi glares at me impatiently. "She's not okay. She's going to die and you're not going to see it." she snaps. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have places to go."

She walks past me but I don't call for her. I can't seem to muster the energy to look at her. Her words echo over and over again in my mind... she's going to die she's going to die she's going to die. Tears overflow from my eyes and splash onto the ground; tears that I've promised myself to never let her see.

Miyabi turns on her heels. A frown pulls at her lips as she stares at me accusingly. "Are you... crying?"

I try my best to compose myself. "Excellent observation, Watson."

She rolls her eyes. "Sherlock Holmes isn't supposed to have emotions."

"But he does," I argue.

She lets out a long sigh, raking a hand through her neat brown hair. "Fine. You can go in, but just this once."

I nod gratefully, before walking over to Ichigo's hospital room. I'm about to open the door when my sister stops me.

"Makoto?"

I turn around. "Hmm?"

She pauses. "Don't cry. She won't want to see you crying.."

I hurriedly brush the tears from my eyes. "...Thank you," I tell her softly.

For a moment, she almost smiles a little. And then she's gone, and I wonder if it was just my imagination.

~x~

The room is brightly lit. The glare of the hospital lights hurts my eyes, but I don't say anything. Slowly, I make my way over to the far side of the room. Ichigo is asleep on the hospital bed, looking smaller than ever against the blank white sheets.

A dozen machines are connected to her body. An IV protrudes from her skin, dripping medications into her that probably won't help her anyways. Not at this point. Her eyes are shut, her body still and unmoving. She almost... looks... lifeless.

But she's alive, and I know that. I watch the line on the heart monitor rise and fall, and slowly, I let myself sink into its consistency.

She's alive.

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