15 days.
"Remission?"
Niou nods.
Marui's arms circle him so tightly that his chest squeezes painfully. Marui cannot seem to find the words to express his jumbled thoughts so he just holds Niou for some time.
"It's not cured," Niou says. "Just less lethal at the moment."
"That's better," Marui whispers into his neck. "Just let me hang on for a little longer."
"I don't exactly have the strength or muscle mass to push you away."
Marui sways them back and forth in a kid-like dance. Nothing Marui did seemed to express his happiness and relief, not even the huge smile plastered on his face.
Niou thinks of this as meaning he's going to die slower.
Marui thinks of this as meaning he's going to live longer.