Kotetsu tries. Bless his heart, he tries.

Barnaby agreed to every invitation out, for a while. In a group or just the two of them, to a public event or a quiet, private date, no matter how foul Barnaby found his mood after, looking at all those people, those other people who are going to be here when Barnaby isn't, he agrees to go out because Kotetsu smiles.

But then there's one evening where Barnaby just can't take it, and he asks that he and Kotetsu stay in for the evening, have a nice home-cooked dinner, watch a movie, and just spend some time together, alone. Kotetsu kisses Barnaby's cheek and says, "Sure thing." No complaining, no fuss.

After that, it's easier and easier to claim exhaustion and ask for Kotetsu to stay in, by his side, until it reaches the point where Barnaby only leaves the house for work. He'll never deny Kotetsu the chance to leave by himself and spend time with his family, especially since his great-grand babies are so adorable and their friends visit town periodically; just, Barnaby doesn't join him. He asks Kotetsu to go and enjoy himself, and it's somehow easier to spend the night alone at home rather than out with Kotetsu, able to observe and scrutinize every word and action. Kotetsu keeps inviting him nevertheless, almost constantly asking if he wants to go somewhere, even suggesting places Barnaby knows Kotetsu himself has no interest in going: operas and academic lectures and the like. Barnaby persistently refuses.

Kotetsu starts to catch on. "Bunny, are you feeling all right?"

"Hm?"

"You're getting pale. You're not eating much, and you don't leave the house," Kotetsu lists his symptoms. "Should I call a doctor?"

Which one? Barnaby thinks ruefully. For most of his adult life, he needed one doctor, with occasional visits to specialists when the need arose. Now, there's a pantheon of medical professionals responsible for Barnaby's health and well-being: his heart, his bones, his lungs, his stomach, his eyes, his ears.

"No, it's nothing. Nothing more than the usual, at least."

"You sure?" Kotetsu makes a face, concerned and skeptical, but oblivious to the truth.

"Yes."

He scratches at one of the little kitties in his beard, a style he's maintained for decades. He brightens suddenly. "Ah, I know! Our anniversary is next week!"

"Anniversary of what? We're not married."

"Of when we started dating. Same thing," Kotetsu beams. "Let's see, it's a Thursday, so that's not that great, but we've got sick days piled up, so taking Friday off would be easy. We're free to just do whatever! Paint the town. Eat great food at the best restaurant, go up to the tallest building and see the sta—"

"Enough already."

Kotetsu stops short, his lips still twisted mid-word. "Eh?" Barnaby clenches his teeth as he realizes what he just said. "Enough of what, Bunny?"

"Kotetsu… don't you feel like this has gone on long enough?"

"What has?"

You're going to make this even harder, aren't you? "I don't want to hold you back anymore. It would be for the best… if…"

"If what?" Kotetsu sits beside Barnaby, sensing this is the 'illness' that has been bothering him. "What's wrong, Bunny?"

"It has occurred to me that you have many more opportunities left in your life," Barnaby splits his speech from his feelings—in his mouth, he speaks eloquently, but the rest of him wants to just crumble and cry. "Unlike me. I am a hindrance to you."

"Oh no you don't, Bunny, those are my lines!" For such a petty complaint, Kotetsu doesn't even crack a smile. "If you want me to list all the things you've done to help me, we'd be here all week!"

"And the same goes for you. But you don't need to stay with me until the end. I'll just be grateful for the time we had, and—"

"Bunny!" Kotetsu grabs one of Barnaby's hands. "Don't say stuff like that. I'm not going to leave you."

"It's unfair," Barnaby won't look at Kotetsu. If he did, he'd probably lose all chance of saying what needed to be said. "There's so much for you out there."

"And for you, too."

"Look at me, Kotetsu."

"I'm looking."

"…If you're really looking, then you should understand."

"What is there to understand?" Kotetsu wrapped one arm around Barnaby and pulled him close for a hug. Kotetsu's strong arms and broad shoulders, comforting like only an embrace can be, envelop Barnaby completely. "I love you. I'm going to stay until the very end."

"But that's not fair to—"

"Bunny, I know how it looks to you, but that's not how I see it at all," Kotetsu reaches up with one hand and begins idly stroking Barnaby's wilting curls. "I see someone that I'm absolutely in love with, and he's going to be taken from me eventually. And I just want every minute I can get with you before that happens. Death is the only thing that can take you from me. I won't let anything else do it." His arms tighten. "I won't."

It's what Barnaby knew Kotetsu would say. It's what Barnaby wants to hear him say, that he'll stay forever and never leave. But it still feels too good to be true, far too good to be true, that he can look and feel so miserable while Kotetsu continues to love him and simply refuses to see how Barnaby is going to hurt him.

"Don't leave me, Bunny," Kotetsu asks quietly.

Call it weakness. Call it selfishness. But in spite of knowing better, Barnaby answers: "I won't."

Barnaby's second retirement from Hero TV is a lot quieter with much less fanfare. Kotetsu supposes it's easier to leave a show when you're backstage rather than standing in the spotlight. Some students and peers from his days at university, as well as friends and proteges they keep in touch, but Barnaby's getting weaker. So much sitting, so many doctors, each reminding him—and Kotetsu as well, his live-in family and primary caregiver—to take care of the different elements of his body falling apart. Careful about eye strain, blindness is a possibility. In his ears, hair cell destruction should be accumulating by now. His teeth, be very cautious about what you eat. His bones, never miss a calcium supplement. His skin, you bruise much more easily now. On and on and on and on and on.

Kotetsu takes notes, and he forces himself to study them until he is an expert in the care and keeping of Barnaby Brooks Jr. Barnaby's well-being is enough of a motivator to make him learn it all. He doesn't have much time left, and he wants it to be as pain-free as possible.

That's not to say Barnaby entirely agrees with that point of view. The orthopedist recommends that Barnaby start walking with a cane to take some strain off his deteriorating skeleton, and in response, Barnaby powers up, and surrounded by a blue aura, strides right out of the office, through the hallway, to the parking lot, to the sidewalk, and as far down the street as Hundred Power can take him. Kotetsu follows, protesting for a bit that he can't walk out on Dr. Knochen, but he quickly falls silent.

Barnaby doesn't use the full hundredfold power of his Hundred Power. He walks briskly and nothing more, but for the first time in years, his spine is perfectly straight from the base of his skull to the end of his tailbone. His bowed legs take strong, tall strides, his arms swing without a hint of pain, and his crinkled fingers straighten, though he is still in every other way a septuagenarian.

He looks like a god to Kotetsu.

Kotetsu catches him when the power runs out five minutes later, and Barnaby crumples, no longer strong enough to fight through his decrepitation. He cries a little, too, but Kotetsu pretends he doesn't see that and just holds Barnaby. Unlike Kotetsu, who still has a fair shot at convincing others that his pain doesn't exist, with Barnaby, it's a matter of recognizing his pain, but maintaining his pride.

"I love you, Bunny," Kotetsu reminds him. "More and more each day."

"Kotetsu…" He rarely finishes it out with the customary 'I love you, too' anymore, but everything about Barnaby says it for him, from his hands to his eyes to the small, warm, wet spots on Kotetsu's shoulder.

Two weeks later, Barnaby gets a cane. It's a work of art in itself, with dark solid wood and an elegant handle, and the black stopper at the end is practically invisible. It reminds Kotetsu of all those old-timey opera guys, so he supposes it's appropriate for Barnaby now that he's an old-timey opera guy himself. But having a cane and using it are two different matters. Barnaby still hates the thing and refuses to touch it unless he absolutely has to walk a long distance, and even then Kotetsu sees how much Barnaby exerts himself with the small stuff.

He doesn't want to force Barnaby to do anything, but he needs to start using the cane more regularly. It's a strange way of being selfish—there's definitely Barnaby's health to think about, but the healthier Barnaby is, the longer he can be with Kotetsu, and Kotetsu wants every minute he can get. So, how to convince Barnaby to use the cane?

Well… give him a reason to.

On the most beautiful day Kotetsu has seen in years, he makes a big show of standing by the window, staring out at the sunshine and the puffy clouds, opening the window and letting the warm breeze roll by. He comments on the weather at least three times, sighing wistfully and all but singing the praises of spring just turning to summer.

Barnaby doesn't get it at first. "If you love today so much, go outside."

"But Bunny," Kotetsu shoots his best wibbly puppy-dog face Barnaby's way. "I want you to come with me."

He sighs. "That damn cane…"

"Please, Bunny? For me?" Kotetsu redoubles his efforts to be cute. Barnaby adjusts his glasses and runs a hand through his hair.

"If you stop making that ridiculous face, fine," he concedes, and Kotetsu is more than happy to comply, easing Barnaby out into the light, where he glows, even if just a little bit.

Kotetsu and Barnaby quickly find a favorite park, and a favorite walking route with it. Kotetsu has to learn to let Barnaby lead, rein in his steps so the elderly man doesn't feel pressured to go faster, suggesting breaks when they pass benches so that Barnaby never has to ask for rest. It takes Kotetsu a while to find the right walking technique, something that doesn't have him twitching stray digits and just generally looking like he had itches under his skin, and he realizes it's all about the right focus. If he's not focusing on walking at all, and instead thinks of Barnaby, thinks of their memories, their ups, their downs, their ups that make up for the downs, then it's much easier to walk, reminisce, and match the pace that Barnaby sets.

On the benches, Kotetsu holds Barnaby's hand, but if they're adventurous, Kotetsu can drape an arm across Barnaby's shoulders and let the aged man's head lean against him. He has to keep track of time and move Barnaby before his neck seizes up, though. Sometimes, Barnaby gives Kotetsu instructions on where and how to sit, so that Barnaby can embrace him in return. Kotetsu frequently finds himself pinched or prodded in an odd direction for a bit longer than strictly comfortable, but with Barnaby, Kotetsu can endure anything. He will endure anything, if he can have just a little more time, not for himself, but for Barnaby.

If they time it right, their route puts them at the top of a hill during the sunset, and every time it's a stunning sight. A lovely sunset. Kotetsu thinks, and he looks to his partner at his side. Barnaby, you lovely sunset.