Chapter 39

Johnny found himself standing on the golden sands of a familiar beach. The waves rolled gently toward the shore, their soothing rhythm matching the soft warmth of the sun on his skin. There was no pain, no blood, no weight of exhaustion pressing down on him. It was serene—almost perfect.

He gazed out at the endless ocean, its surface sparkling like diamonds in the sunlight. A small smile crept onto his face as he sat down, sinking his hands into the warm sand. A cold cocktail sat beside him, condensation dripping down the glass.

"This is the life," Johnny murmured, taking in the tranquility. He felt free, untethered from the struggles that had plagued him.

Then he heard footsteps. Light but deliberate, moving toward him. Johnny turned his head, and his breath caught in his throat.

Kenshi was standing there, dressed casually in a white shirt and tan slacks. He looked healthy, vibrant—his face relaxed and peaceful. His blindfold was gone, and his unseeing eyes seemed to glimmer with a soft light.

"Kenshi?" Johnny said, his voice filled with disbelief.

Kenshi smiled and walked toward him, kneeling down to pull Johnny into a warm embrace. Johnny froze for a moment before wrapping his arms tightly around his husband.

"I missed you," Kenshi whispered, his voice soft and full of love.

Johnny chuckled, though his voice shook slightly. "I missed you too. God, it feels like forever."

Kenshi leaned in and kissed him—a tender, lingering kiss that melted away every worry Johnny had carried. When they pulled apart, Kenshi's hand rested on Johnny's cheek.

"You look happy," Kenshi said.

"How could I not be?" Johnny replied, motioning to the beautiful beach. "No blood, no bruises, no Haroshi. Just me and you. Feels like heaven."

They sat down together on the sand, their fingers intertwined as they watched the waves crash softly against the shore. Johnny couldn't remember the last time he had felt this at peace.

"You know," Johnny began, "I used to dream about moments like this. Just you, me, and no chaos."

Kenshi smiled faintly. "You've always been a dreamer, Johnny."

They talked for what felt like hours, reminiscing about their happiest moments—laughing, teasing, and basking in each other's presence. But then, a faint beeping sound began to echo in the background. It was faint at first, easy to ignore, but it grew louder with each passing moment.

Johnny frowned, looking around. "Do you hear that?" he asked Kenshi.

Kenshi tilted his head, listening, but shook his head. "No. What do you hear?"

"A beeping sound," Johnny said, his brows furrowing. "It's… annoying."

The beeping grew louder, more insistent, cutting through the peaceful sounds of the waves. Johnny rubbed his temples, trying to focus.

Suddenly, the beach began to change. The warm, golden sands started to darken, turning cold and damp beneath Johnny's hands. The vibrant ocean dimmed, its waters losing their sparkle. The once clear sky was now overcast, the sun obscured by thick gray clouds.

Johnny stood up abruptly, panic creeping into his chest. "What's going on?"

Kenshi stood as well, his expression calm but serious. "You're in between, Johnny," he said quietly.

Johnny turned to him, confusion etched on his face. "In between? What does that mean?"

Kenshi placed a hand on Johnny's shoulder. "Between life and death. You're teetering on the edge."

Johnny frowned, running a hand through his hair. "Teetering? What the hell are you talking about? Am I… dying?"

Kenshi hesitated, then shook his head slowly. "It's not that simple. You're between life and death, stuck in a place where the choice to move forward isn't entirely yours. Your body is fighting, but your mind and soul need to make the decision."

Johnny's heart sank as the words settled in. "So what? If I stay here, I die? And if I go back… I have to deal with all of it? The pain, the injuries, the mess we left behind?"

Kenshi stepped closer, his hand resting on Johnny's shoulder. "It's not about avoiding pain. It's about what you still have to fight for."

Johnny turned away, his hands on his hips as he paced across the sand. "But I don't want to leave you," he muttered, his voice cracking. "This place, you… it's the only peace I've had in so damn long."

Kenshi's hand caught his, pulling him to a stop. "You won't lose me, Johnny. I'm a part of you. I always will be. But the real me, the Kenshi who's out there fighting for you right now, will be devastated if you don't come back. He's out there, calling for you."

Johnny froze. "Calling for me?"

Dream Kenshi placed a hand gently on Johnny's shoulder, his touch grounding. " Yes, listen."

Johnny blinked, confused. "Listen? To what?"

Dream Kenshi nodded toward the horizon. "To him. To the real Kenshi. He's calling for you."

Johnny stilled, his breath catching in his throat. And then, faintly at first, he began to hear it—a voice cutting through the crashing waves and the eerie silence of this dreamlike limbo.

"Johnny," the voice was soft but insistent, filled with raw emotion. "Don't give up on me. Please. I need you."

It was Kenshi. The real Kenshi.

Johnny's eyes widened, his heart twisting painfully at the sound of his husband's voice.

"He's waiting for you," Dream Kenshi said gently, stepping back.

Johnny strained to hear more, and the voice grew clearer. "Johnny, you promised me you'd always come back. You've never broken a promise to me before."

Tears welled up in Johnny's eyes as he clutched his chest. "Kenshi…"

The real Kenshi's voice continued, breaking slightly with emotion. "Do you remember our first real date? You took me to that tiny ramen shop in Tokyo, the one hidden in the alley. You were so nervous you almost knocked over the table."

Johnny let out a choked laugh, the memory flickering to life in his mind. He could almost see Kenshi's teasing smile as he picked up the bowl Johnny had nearly spilled.

"You made me laugh that night," the real Kenshi's voice continued. "You always know how to make me laugh, even when things seem impossible. I need you to come back, Johnny. I need you to make me laugh again."

Johnny's legs felt weak, and he sank to his knees in the shifting sand, tears streaming down his face. "He needs me," he whispered.

Dream Kenshi knelt beside him, his expression soft. "Then go to him. Fight for him, Johnny. Fight like hell."

Johnny's chest heaved as he looked up at Dream Kenshi. "But what if I can't make it? What if I'm too far gone?"

Dream Kenshi shook his head, his gaze firm. "You're not. You've always been a fighter, Johnny. You've faced impossible odds before, and you've won. This time is no different."

The beeping sound in the background grew louder, almost deafening. The cold sand beneath Johnny began to shift, melting away into darkness. The waves disappeared, and the air grew thin and unsteady.

Dream Kenshi placed both hands on Johnny's shoulders, steadying him. "Go back to him. He's waiting for you. And remember, I'll always be with you, no matter where you are."

Johnny swallowed hard, his vision blurring as the world around him began to collapse. "I love you," he said, his voice trembling.

Dream Kenshi smiled softly. "I know. Now go."

The darkness consumed everything, and Johnny felt himself falling, his body heavy and aching. He could no longer feel the warmth of the beach or hear the waves, but Kenshi's voice—the real Kenshi's voice—cut through the void.

"Johnny, come back to me. I love you."

Johnny gasped as he felt his chest lurch. Pain shot through his body, and the faint sound of the hospital monitor beeping reached his ears. With a strained effort, he began clawing his way back, refusing to let go.

For Kenshi, for their love, Johnny fought.