She holds her her breath, scooting as close as she can to the door without looking suspicious, just in case someone came in. Silence set upon the room and she listened to the muffled voices intently.

"-Condition has worsened-"

Just as she started hearing the conversation Ms. Mahki walks in with two steaming cups of cider. Mahki takes a seat across from her, where her mother had sat before, handing her a cup of the liquid. Yuri knew that bad news was coming, this was the drink they shared each time something bad happened.

"Lay it on me," Yuri said, trying to keep the mood light. Mahki's green eyes met hers. She had been crying, but tried to hide it behind a warm smile.

"Let's go for a walk." Yuri nodded at the statement, jumping down from the examine table. She followed Mahki out into the hallway, trying to ignore the sobs coming from her mother. Instead she focused on the way the cup felt in her hands. It was warm. She stares down at the amber colored drink, smiling as memories are awakened from it's amazing aroma.

Once they were out of earshot of her parents, Mahki began, "We found something in your blood test from last visit, just got the results two hours ago..." Yuri kept quiet, "We will have to change your medication, and hopefully that will-" Mahki stops to sniffle, "That it will give us some more... T-ime. T-they said a year, Yuri.. A year." At this point Yuri's eyes are wide and Mahki's eyes are cloudy with tears. "I j-just, I don't know! Yuri I don't know what to do, we can keep you at the hospital, but that will only add a few more months onto.. onto your-"

"My expiration date..." Her voice was void of emotion, or rather reaction, "C-can I be by myself for awhile?" Mahki nods, trying to calm herself down as she watches the young girl walk down the empty hallway.

The place smelt of disinfectant spray, one thing that she would never forget about it. A year? How had it happened so quickly? She was just here, exactly a month ago and they said nothing... so why? No, she knew that she was getting weaker, that this was why for the past six months her medication has changed. Because she was declining, and quickly. A year... That's twelve months. Only twelve. She finds herself wishing that 2023 would be a leap year just she she could have one extra day, but it doesn't work that way. The time that they gave her was just an estimation based off of the speed in which her body was shutting down. It could be totally off, and that's why she has to cherish every second of it. But 365 days is a small amount compared to a whole lifetime that she would be missing out on. A lifetime of learning, of watching Hideki create, of Kyo learning of his talents, of mom and dad being together, of eating the gross 'tests' her dad makes each time he picks a new recipe, of her mom's book recommendations, of strawberries on the porch, of her grandpa's stories, of the time before sickness, of friends, of growing up, of getting a job, of meeting someone, of falling in love, of growing old. She was going to miss out... who was she kidding, she was missing out, she had been since the disease made her collapse at recess.

Large tears rolled down her cheeks. She had a view of the world, one that made her live everyday as if it were her last, and yet here she was, bawling over a lost future. She knew that she was wasting her time, but she couldn't stop. How could she? She thought that she was finally standing on stable ground, only to have it slip right from under her. It wasn't a lost future, it was a stolen future. This disease -that tested her body every day, that made her weak, made her miserable- had been slowly thieving away not only her happiness, but also her future. One that was filled with so many possibilities, but was now colored grey with the material that her headstone was to be made of. Over and over she thought of what she should have done, each one interrupted with the image of her casket.

She should have begged on her knees to stay at school. She should have reached out to other kids more at therapy. She should have… She should have… A lot of things. She shouldn't have held a grudge against her body, or stayed angry at the world.

Her mind, body and soul changed the day she found out that she was sick. The way she saw things had changed, everything was more beautiful from that point on. Sunlight was brighter, colors- more vibrant than they had ever been, flaws became flawless. And now... she was dying. She had always been dying, but this time was different... she was beyond saving. And it was because of that, she knew that those things wouldn't be around forever… No, it was the other way around, she wouldn't be around forever.

How cruel reality was, but is it better now to pour yourself into a book? Maybe she should have spent more time in her own world, and not in a fantasy one created by an author. She could have done more with her life if she had forced herself out of her comfort zone a bit. She kept thinking that she was living to the fullest, but only when you find that something is slipping away, do you realize how wrong you were.

She saw this day coming, but it didn't catch up to her until now that that day was so much closer than she had anticipated. Putting off everything she wanted out of life, "Oh, I'll do it tomorrow." But what if tomorrow never came? This was a lot to take in. Too much to take in. Too much to bare by herself, and yet she wanted to be by herself. Another 'why?' to add to the list. Now she was running out of time to figure that out, so she denied it. It was still there in the back of her mind, she couldn't deny the facts, but for now she would pretend that the test results were wrong.

A door not far ahead was ajar. She heard voices coming from it, so she trudged over there. Peering through the small crack in the door she noticed a boy, his expressions animated as he read a book. Not far from the table he sat on, a large group of children sat, listening as intently as she had when spying on her parents conversation with Fujimoto.

Slowly, as to keep them all from noticing, she slid into the room, standing in the very back, observing.

The children smiled and giggled, whether that be at the boy's actions or the story itself. She had to admit, his facial expressions made her giggle and smile at times as well.

"And they lived... Happily ever after..." As he read the last line, he lifted his head to stare directly into her eyes.

"And they lived..." He spaced the last line that was meant to be said all together. He knew nothing about her, and yet he made her smile, laugh, and reflect all within a short span of ten minutes. He knew nothing of her and yet she felt as though that last part was meant for her, regardless of the silly story that it had ended. "And they lived..."

"And they lived..."