A/N: Finally.

Word Count: 2,574

Chapter 7: Lingering Flowers

For the rest of that day, Ryouta's mother didn't come back to his room, but when she did the next morning and for the days after that when he got transferred back to his old room, she didn't speak to him at all, only giving him looks that he was at a loss to interpret. He couldn't stand it, but he knew he completely deserved it.

Spring was beautiful.

Outside his window, there was a sakura tree in full bloom, the flowers clumped too close together that the branch might fall off at any time from the weight of them, brushing against his window with every gentle breeze. Ryouta could probably pick off a bloom and take in its scent if he ever stood up to open the window, but even the act of standing up tired him out, much less walking towards it. As it was, he could only sketch out the scenery in his sketchpad, even though he probably wasn't doing its beauty enough justice. Ryouta regretted he ever took the season for granted, not when each one that passed could be his last.

The only people still talking to him on visits were Sagishi and Tsumiki. Sagishi at least still treated him as if nothing happened. In Tsumiki's case, he couldn't tell if her shyness was natural or if it was because she thinks him fragile. The conversation was welcome either way.

"Are you ever gonna show me your sketches?" Sagishi said, leaning in closer to Ryouta to try and peek at Ryouta's sketchpad.

Ryouta yelped, shutting his sketchpad close, his face flushed red. The sudden question stopped his train of thoughts and made his heart race again. "I'll show you when I'm done, okay?" he screeched out, breathing heavily afterwards, a hand pressed to his chest.

Sagishi frowned. "Hey, are you okay?"

"…Maybe," Ryouta breathed out. "Just don't…do that again."

"…Sorry."

"It's fine," Ryouta said, shaking his head. "How's the class?" he asked, trying to change the topic, as he tried to get his bearings back.

"Saionji got into a fight with an underclassman during lunch. Something about being there supposed to be only one blonde pigtailed girl running the school. It was ridiculous," Sagishi said, smiling despite himself.

"Wait," Ryouta said, scrunching up his face. "I thought you said Saionji wore a ponytail now?"

"She does, but she's angry that someone's copying her style," Sagishi shrugged. "Feeling any better or am I going to have to call someone? You're still breathing hard."

"Almost," Ryouta said, taking in a deep breath. "Is Tsumiki coming today?"

"I think so? But she's not on duty today, though. Why?"

"Nothing. Is she always like that?" Ryouta asked, the words barely a whisper.

"What?" Sagishi asked flatly.

"Tsumiki. Does she really act like that to everyone or just to me?"

"No, she's like that to everyone," Sagishi assured him. "I think it comes with being Saionji's chew toy. By the way, Yukizome–sensei wants the class to have a hanami party. Apparently the spring this year is better than last year's."

"Oh," Ryouta said, fiddling with his pencil. "Well, don't ask me, I didn't see it last year."

That seemed to surprise Sagishi. "Wait, how did you manage to miss it last year?"

Ryouta avoided Sagishi's gaze, choosing to stare at the pencil in his hand instead. "Kaa–san already told you, didn't she? That this happened before? It's why I missed spring last year. I wasn't awake for most of it."

"Then don't miss it this year."

"I can walk, you know," Ryouta said, thoroughly incredulous.

Sagishi rolled his eyes. "Sure you are," he said dryly. "Just get in the chair, Ryouta."

"Where are we going, anyway? Am I even allowed to leave this room?" Ryouta asked, still eyeing the wheelchair with suspicion.

"Y–Yes," Tsumiki piped up nervously. Ryouta had almost forgotten she was in the room. "I already asked. A–and besides, I'm with you. Just in case."

"You haven't answered where we're going," Ryouta pointed out, his mouth forming a pout.

"Just to the gardens. It's a nice day out," Sagishi said, still gesturing for Ryouta to get into the chair.

"Fine," Ryouta sighed in defeat, shifting over to the edge of the bed so he can get on the wheelchair. But as soon as he stood up, his unsteady legs gave way, making him land gracelessly on the floor.

Useless.

Sagishi immediately offered a hand. "What was that again about being able to walk?"

Ryouta shook his head, not taking the hand nor looking at anything but the floor.

"Are you going to take my hand or do you want me to carry you instead?" Sagishi asked, more sympathetically this time. "You look thin enough that I could probably do it."

"No! I—" Ryouta protested, taking Sagishi's hand without looking "Just pull me up. Please."

Sagishi gladly obliged, gently pulling Ryouta back on his feet. They all pretended not to notice how badly Ryouta shook from the effort of standing up and shuffling towards the wheelchair.

Sagishi moved to push the chair once Ryouta was seated, but Ryouta shook his head again. "I think I can roll myself around, thanks."

"Are you sure?" Sagishi asked hesitantly as he backed away. "It's not a bother for me if that's what you're worried about."

"No, it's fine, I can manage. Can you hand me my sketchpad?" Ryouta asked, pointing to the sketchpad on top of the bedside drawer. "And maybe grab a pouch from inside the top drawer?" he added as an afterthought.

"Which one? There's a lot of them in here," Sagishi asked when he opened the drawer.

"Any of them. They're already arranged by type of medium, anyway," Ryouta shrugged. "I'll carry that basket if you want, Tsumiki."

"I–It's kinda heavy, Mitarai–san," Tsumiki said, her voice reaching an octave again, but she still gently placed the picnic basket on his lap all the same.

Ryouta agreed with Tsumiki, but he wasn't about to admit that aloud.

As soon as Sagishi handed Ryouta the pouch and his sketchpad, they left the room, Sagishi and Tsumiki hovering protectively on either side of Ryouta in his wheelchair.

It's been a while since he last left his room, Ryouta suddenly realized. Spring changed even the scenery outside of his four–walled world. The hallways seemed brighter, some of the nurses hurrying past weren't familiar, and even the nameplates on the rooms were different (except for the room next to his, it was still occupied by Akemi–san according to the nameplate). It felt like the only thing that didn't change was Ryouta himself.

And then, there was the outdoor walkway. Both of its sides were bordered with hedges bursting with color, each one sculpted in a different shape. Everything was dominated by green no matter where he looked, and everywhere too, were fallen sakura blossoms scattered upon the lush grass of the hospital garden. Near the sakura trees, there were patches of soil where forsythias blossomed proudly under the equally golden sun. It made a beautiful contrast.

"Don't forget to breathe, Ryouta," Sagishi joked from his left.

Ryouta blushed, exhaling the stale air that built up in his lungs without his notice. "Sorry."

"Is this the first time you went out of your room?" Tsumiki asked.

Sagishi made a noise that sounded suspiciously like strangled laughter before immediately clearing his throat, making all of them stop in their tracks. Both Tsumiki and Ryouta turned to look at Sagishi for vastly different reasons, Tsumiki in curiosity, and Ryouta to glare at and to warn Sagishi not to tell Tsumiki exactly how many times he's left his room before, with or without permission.

It didn't work.

"He's gone out of his room before, Tsumiki. That's how we met," Sagishi shrugged, making Ryouta glare at him some more. Why couldn't he let that go?

Fortunately for both of them, Tsumiki only nodded, satisfied with Sagishi's answer, and did not press on.

They decided to set up their picnic under the shade of one of the sakura trees. The shift from rolling the wheelchair from a mostly smooth pavement to the rough grounds of the garden disoriented Ryouta and made him lose his balance, nearly toppling over the basket on his lap, but Sagishi managed to catch the basket in time, handing it to Tsumiki before going over and pushing Ryouta's chair for him despite his protests.

The sakura tree was more beautiful up close, the blossoms just within reach now, and the scent they gave off mingled with the breeze, smelling sweeter than Ryouta imagined it to be.

Ryouta stood, using the tree's trunk to boost himself up. His legs were still shaking, but he was determined to at least feel the grass beneath his feet. Breathlessly, he sat near where Sagishi and Tsumiki were setting up the picnic, smiling as he did so.

Sagishi was beside Ryouta in a heartbeat, worry lines creasing his face again. "You could've told me, you know. What if you fell down again?"

"I'm fine, I didn't fall, did I?" Ryouta replied, still smiling.

"Yeah, but—"

"Don't worry, I'll stay put."

Sagishi sighed. "Just be careful."

"I will," Ryouta assured him. "You should go back and help Tsumiki, she looks like she needs it."

And she does. Tsumiki was currently struggling to keep the blanket she laid down in place against the breeze. The same breeze also caught the hems of her skirt, making her skirt billow slightly in the direction the wind was blowing. The picnic basket, left forgotten in the wake of Tsumiki's attempt to keep everything else in place, was threatening to topple over again. Sagishi went back to help Tsumiki, grabbing the picnic basket before it could fall to its side and spill its contents. Even as he was helping Tsumiki set up, Sagishi still occasionally turned to Ryouta's direction and gave him worried glances, and each one of them Ryouta simply answered with a smile.

Ryouta turned to a new page in his sketchpad, pleased to have something new to draw. It was only when he opened the pouch Sagishi handed him a while ago that he realized it was the pouch that contained the oil pastels his dad gave him last year. They still looked new to him, barely used unlike the rest of his art materials, for fear he'll use them up too fast and lose the last gift his dad gave him.

All these thoughts he pushed as he set out to work on another sketch. The scenery was too good to go to waste.

By the time Ryouta was finished with the outlines, Sagishi and Tsumiki were already done setting up. Ryouta closed the sketchpad and shuffled back on his feet to join them before either of them could offer their help.

Oh.

They've brought everything that could be found in a matsuri, displaying them on colorful paper plates. On the plate nearest to Ryouta were toffee apples, strands of excess melted sugar still visible on some of them. Next to it were golden–brown taiyaki lined up neatly in a row. There were also takoyaki, the sauce on top of them shining underneath the afternoon sun. And in the centerpiece were dango skewered on sticks, each one in a different color, still dripping with the glaze on top of them. Ryouta wondered where they found the time to buy all of the food, or even make them on their own.

"Well, are you just going to stare?" Sagishi asked, a glint of amusement in his eyes.

Ryouta's face reddened. "N–No, ah, sorry," he managed to stammer. "Isn't this a bit too much?"

"It's not," Sagishi shrugged. "And besides, didn't you say you missed hanami last year?"

"I don't even know why I told you that," muttered Ryouta.

Sagishi, smiling, raised an eyebrow as he handed Ryouta a skewer of dango. "Funny thing, when we were buying this dango, the label had the same kanji as your name on it. You didn't tell me you were named for a dango."

Ryouta might have smacked him for that.

"—you think we should bring him back?"

"M–Maybe we should wait 'til he wakes up?"

Ryouta woke up slowly with the whispers, though he didn't open his eyes yet. He didn't even realize he fell asleep.

"Are we even sure he's just sleeping?" That was Sagishi's voice. "What if—?"

"'M fine, I'm awake, see?" Ryouta groggily said as he opened his eyes, cutting off Sagishi.

The sun was already setting in the sky, making it appear a vibrant orange. He was still sitting down in the same place as before. How long did he sleep?

"What time is it?" Ryouta asked as he rubbed his eyes.

"Almost six," Sagishi replied, his hand firmly placed on Ryouta's shoulder. "We should go back."

"Yeah, we should," Ryouta said, placing his hand on top of Sagishi's. "Help me up."

"Gladly," Sagishi said, pulling Ryouta by the hand. "As long as you're not planning on walking all the way back?"

Ryouta rolled his eyes. "I'm not that stupid."

"Didn't say you were."

Ryouta fell asleep again on the way back, lulled by the gentleness of how Sagishi pushed the wheelchair, Ryouta being too tired to argue about it. When he next woke up, they were already leaving the elevator on the third floor, and his mother was waiting for them there. She was smiling when she met with them.

"Here, let me take him back," she said, motioning for Sagishi to let her take over control of the wheelchair. "You should both go home. Spend the rest of Golden Week with your family."

Sagishi and Tsumiki reluctantly agreed and said their goodbyes, Tsumiki tripping over her words again while Sagishi was surer of his, and promised to come back again tomorrow. Soon, Ryouta was left alone with his mother again as they went back to his room in complete silence. Ryouta wanted to break the silence, but he didn't really know what to say or how to apologize to her.

When they got back to his room, his mother carries him from the wheelchair back to his bed before Ryouta could utter a word of protest. Not that he wanted to, anyway.

She hummed as she placed him down on the bed. "You're not as heavy as I remember, Ryou–chan," she said, smiling sadly as she looked at him.

Ryouta avoided her eyes, still not knowing what to say.

"Do you really want to go home?" she asked softly, carding her fingers through his hair after sitting down beside him.

"I—," Ryouta said, startled by the question. "I'm sorry, Kaa–san. That was selfish. I won't ask again," he continued, annoyed at himself for starting to tear up.

"No, it's— it's fine, it's also my fault," she said, shaking her head. "Well, do you want to go home?"

Ryouta nodded. "But only if it's alright with you."

"It is. I've already asked," she assured him. "But you'll have to work on walking again before they'll release you," she added with a small smile.

Ryouta nodded again, trying and failing to stifle a yawn as he did so. His eyes were starting to feel heavy again, and the bed was just so soft.

His mother giggled. "Go to sleep, Ryou–chan. I'll still be here when you wake up."

A/N: Okay, confession time. Chapters 4-7 were originally supposed to be a single chapter but it just kept on getting longer and longer so I ended up splitting them into multiple parts. I've been waiting for almost two months to write this part.

Next chapter will probably be a short one. Probably.

Oh yeah, if you didn't read my other fic, the dango in question was a mitarashi dango, mitarashi being written with the same kanji as Mitarai.

This chapter was brought to you by copious amounts of caffeine and Broadway recordings.