DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN SAINT SEIYA CHARACTERS. SAINT SEIYA IS UNDER THE AUTHORIZATION OF MASAMI KURUMADA

Chapter Seven

Camus didn't visit Milo for three days after that moment. Shion suddenly ordered him to do inspection in Siberia then brought the report to Sanctuary (though he was no longer Pope and Camus was no longer Gold Saint, Shion thought that they had to keep alert).

He arrived at the Graud Foundation at ten in the morning. He glanced at Milo for few seconds, then walked to the table in front of the bed to prepare new infusion. Preparing infusion had been his custom since five weeks ago, so he didn't meet any difficulties when dealing with that.

"Good morning," a greeting from behind Camus.

"Good morning," Camus replied, thought that one of his fellows entered the room.

But all parts of his body were frozen after he suddenly recognized whose voice that was. He really knew the voice…but it couldn't be…it was impossible…

He knew the voice so well…

He turned around, and got really shocked seeing the view in front of his eyes.

Milo was leaning his back on the back of his bed. He was awake and smiling at Camus.

Silence between them for so long.

"What happens?" asked Milo finally. He laughed, tickled seeing that Camus didn't move even an inch. "You look as if you're seeing ghost."

Camus was about to answer that maybe he was INDEED seeing a ghost, but there was no words came from his mouth. He blinked several times. Maybe it was only his imagination, and it would vanish if he kept blinking his eyes.

But Milo still sat there, smiled at him. He laughed once more. "Stop it, Camus, you look cute with that expression."

Camus didn't listen. He did another method then—he closed his eyes for a minute, then opened it again.

Milo still sat there.

"How…," Camus finally managed to say a word (after 15 minutes), though he needed to struggle very hard to do that. "How come…what about—you're unconscious—the Greatest Caut—the medicine—next two weeks--," he muttered. His words were totally incoherent, but Milo understood.

"Well…I don't know," said Milo calmly. "What I know is just I opened my eyes two days ago, at evening. Those doctors had similar reactions with you—they said "it's impossible" for about two hundred times. OK, maybe not that much, but it was enough to make my ears got red. They did hundred kind of examination—I asked them, 'What is it with you? Don't you feel glad I'm awake?'. They say they did, but they had to understand about what has happened to me. They said I'd already turned into the first stage of coma three days ago."

The day Camus cried for him.

"Then I woke up," said Milo simply.

"But…the medicine? The medicine for Greatest Caution…I thought you wouldn't wake up until you consume it," said Camus, almost whispering.

"Hmmm…yeah," said Milo. "I don't know either. But finally the doctors concluded that my case is the same with that of the others "normal" comatose people."

"What?"

"You know…those who are coma because of car accidents or the like. Well…there are many kinds of comatose people: those who sleep for days, or for weeks…even years, and suddenly wake up and gain full recovery, but there are also those who keep staying in unconscious state and finally die. I'm included in the first category."

"But the medicine…Milo…," said Camus again. Mentioning Milo's name gave an effect for him—it made him gradually believing that it was really Milo who was sitting on the bed, alive. "The medicine for the Greatest Caution. It hadn't been done—how come you…," he didn't continue.

"I've told you…it's not about the Greatest Caution or not," said Milo. "Several comatose people are unique…you know, they heal themselves from inside, that's why most of them success gaining full recovery though they don't consume special medicine. Have you ever heard that coma sometimes can be so mysterious? Even medical knowledge sometimes cannot understand the secret behind it."

Silence.

Then after Camus decided that the view in front of him was indeed not a hallucination, he stepped slowly forward. He sat on the side of Milo's bed, then took his hand.

Milo's hand was warm, not like before. He gazed on the hand for very long time. It's the hand that gave him helps, gave him the things he liked in his birthday…the hand that cooked for him when he was paralyzed. He'd sufficiently thought that he couldn't feel its warmth again, but now it was different…nobody knew how glad he was now…. His eyes got heated, and his tears finally fell on Milo's hand.

Milo gazed on his best friend. There was touched expression on his face as he saw Camus' tears. He held his arm then, tried to ask the thing he wanted to confirm since Camus was entering the room.

"Hey," Milo said in a soft voice. "Three days ago you said something to me, but I don't remember. I don't know whether it's true or not…but I think those words have big effect to me. Can you repeat it once more?" he asked. Actually he remembered it; he would never forget that. He just wanted to hear it again. How many times he could hear Camus spoke like that…?

"I said…," said Camus after very long time, still gazed on Milo's hand. "Something about we play snowballs outside."

Milo felt the heat in his eyes.

"And…?"

Camus closed his eyes, then opened it again. He wondered whether he could repeat it when Milo had been awake. But he was so surprised when he found himself said it with his broken voice.

"And…I feel so lucky to have you as my best friend. I feel so lucky…because you've been a family which I'd never had…"

Hot tears streamed down Milo's cheeks as he gazed on Camus. It had been 14 years since he and Camus became friend, but it was the very first time Camus directly said it to him…. He felt like he'd found the most amazing treasure, and he would keep it forever.

"Thank you…," whispered Milo as he sobbed and hugged his best friend tight.

They kept embracing each other for very long time, until finally Milo released the embrace. He saw Camus smiled slightly at him.

"It's very nice to see you again," said Camus.

Milo nodded as he brushed away his tears. "And now we should stop this," he then laughed. "We are like old women, you see."

Camus, surprisingly, also chuckled a bit. He wiped away his tears as well.

"Do you think I should stay coma so I can hear you say that things everyday?"

"Stop it, Milo," growled Camus as he hit Milo's head lightly.

"Ouch…it's hurt," Milo muttered, holding the back of his head. "You're so eager to kill me, aren't you?"

"Because you're idiot, Milo."

"And you're a heartless ice mountain."

"You sound like Aphrodite."

"You bastard."

"You bunch of crap."

Milo then laughed, and Camus gave his rare smile once again.

"So good to see you," said Milo, smiled.

"Because I'm handsome?" replied Camus.

"Don't start again, I'm sexier."

"Who says that?"

"Who says you're handsome, Camus?"

"Those girls outside."

"Because they have to choose between you and Lymnades."

Camus laughed, caused Milo's heart filled with May flowers. He laughed!

"Kidding," said Milo finally.

"I know."

They smiled again, looked at each other, but then stopped after hearing yell from the door.

"What is THIS?!"

Camus and Milo turned their head. It was Saga. He put wrathful mimic on his face, but they could see his eyes filled with happiness sparks.

"Kanon's still collapsed and you're AWAKE?!" snarled Saga.

"Hi, Saga," Milo grinned. "Graceful story you told when I was coma, but I don't like Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde too much, you know."

"HEY, GUYS!" Saga yelled to the waiting room. "THIS SON OF A GUN IS AWAKE!"

"WHAT?!"

"Don't be kidding, Saga!"

"He wakes up faster than Aiolia?! I'LL KILL HIM!"

And the Goldies appeared at the door. They were so amazed seeing Milo had opened his startling blue eyes, and soon they marched inside, laughed cheerfully and beamed seeing that one of Rhadamanthys' victim had finished his long sleep.

To be Continued