Disclaimer: I don't own KHR!

[AN]: In this chapter there's 1 flashback and major side affects from the disease and sad Yama.

You choose whether or not to be happy :D or sad D: ENJOY!


"Raccogliete tutti su, Antonio, e ottenere in Giappone il più rapidamente possibile. Sì, questa è una situazione di emergenza. Ok, grazie." Shamal hung up the phone with a flick of his wrist and shoved it into the depths of his coat. He ran a hand over his stubble on his face and sighed, turning around and facing Yamamoto, who stood waiting for him.

"Shamal…" He paused and started over, "What's going on?"

Shamal started to walk and gestured for the younger boy to follow him. "I'm sorry to have frightened you, Yamamoto, but it was imperative I see Hayato right away." He looked down, actually, not down at all, at the black haired teen. Yamamoto's head was slightly bent over, and his face was laced with concern.

"Hey, kid, don't worry about him. He's not in any real emergency right now." Yamamoto's head snapped up. "He's not? Then why-"

"-We need his blood." Yamamoto nodded slowly and muttered a low 'okay...'. Shamal stopped walking as they approached the room where Gokudera was. Shamal peered in through the glass window. A nurse was standing next to the bomber, taking several vials of blood from him. "Just a moment ago, the phone call I had just made, was to the all the men and woman who graduated the same medical class that I took. We are the best, of the best."

He started to walk again. Yamamoto peered in the window, staring at his lover for a few precious moments, before chasing after the doctor again. "Shamal, why are you taking so much of Hayato's blood? What type of test needs that much?" Gokudera had been in the room for over 10 minutes now. They made their way outside, a cold wind hitting their faces as soon as they exited the building. 'Cold front must be coming….next week is winter break anyways...'

Yamamoto glanced at the Italian standing next to him, waiting for his answer. A silence washed over the two as they stared at the scenery placed out in front of them, the signs of the upcoming winter at every glance they took. Another cold gust of wind took some colorful leaves from the tree's long branches and whisked them around and about, They flew throughout the air until they traveled down the nearby street and amongst the passing cars, who held people, like you and me, who continued on with their own unique lives.

"We're going to make a cure."


Yamamoto awoke with a start. His breathing was fast and abnormal and he was covered in his own cold sweat. Damn it…. it was another nightmare. Ever since he had found out Gokudera was sick, he had had these horrible dreams, of his lover, where he keept getting sicker and- No. He couldn't say it. He mustn't even think something like that would happen to him. He was stronger then he looked. Yamamoto reached an arm over and searched around for a Gokudera to hold onto. He found none.

"Gokudera?" Yamamoto rubbed his eyes and sat up, "Gokudera?"

The bed was empty and the covers pulled back, the spot where the Italian should be, cold. Where was he? Yamamoto quickly got up and walked around the apartment. He peered down the hall and into the living room. Nope. He walked over to the kitchen and looked around. Not here either.

"Gokduera?" He called loudly this time. He paused, and waited. Still no response. "He couldn't have left, now could he?" He wondered out loud as he made his way back to the living room. In the corner of his eye, a light drew his attention as he peered down the hall. The bathroom room was barely open, the light on, and something red coming out from under the door.

His stomach dropped and his heart skipped a beat. Yamamoto rushed forward and yanked the door open, fear creeping up on him in the dark of the night. Gokudera lied on the floor, a bloody mess smeared around him.

"Gokudera!" Yamamoto cried out, and fell to his knees, picking up the bomber and moving sweaty hair out of his face. Gokudera's face was pale, white even, and blood had dried from his nose and mouth. Yamamoto leaned him against the tub and called out his name over and over, shaking him gently. Finally, a small groan escaped his cracked and bloody lips, revealing that he was indeed still alive.

Yamamoto weakly smiled and held his hand tightly. "G-Gokudera, I'm here. Everything is going to be alright…I'm here. C-Can you hear me?" Yamamoto leaned over and turned the tub on and began to wet a washcloth. He looked down and lifted his lover's chin up, waiting for him to move or speak or anything. The Italian's eyelids fluttered for a moment, and Yamamoto let out a shaky breath, squeezing the cloth and putting it on his warm head.

"Just stay still, Ill call Dr. Shamal in a moment, and we'll get you to a hospital…" Yamamoto swallowed and took the cloth of his forehead and wiped away the blood on his face. "Yama…m-moto…." His head snapped up and was greeted by beautiful green eyes. Green eyes that were…. distant.

"I-I cant see…."


[AN]: "Gather everyone up, Antonio, and get to Japan as quickly as possible. Yes, this is an emergency situation. Ok, thanks."

Yes, there will be different languages in this fanfic. The only one: Italian. I thought up the idea that Shamal wasn't the only great doctor in the world, so there must be others. I figured he graduated with a great class of doctors, and called them from all around the world, to Japan, to save Gokudera.

*sniff* For a perv, he can be very nice. And very father-like. Mehhh...that would just be awkward to have SHAMAL as your daddy. D:

Review if you like!