Hello. How is everyone doing? Are you all well? I hope you are.

Well... it's been a very long time. And I'm glad to be back, even if it's just a short while. And honestly? I've missed this. I've missed writing. I've missed interacting with my readers, and hearing from them. For a little while, at least, I want to experience that again. Just a moment, to feel like everything was like it was before.

I'm bald now. I'm bald and I'm thin and I look so terrible that I don't look like myself anymore. I won't say that it was easy, because it wasn't. It's been a very trying year for me, my family, and for Rei, who, can you believe it, is still with me right now, holding my hand.

It's been a long fight. I'm so tired. And yet, I'm happy as well, because I had the chance to write again, even if my fingers were shaking and sometimes the pain was so terrible that I couldn't even move, I couldn't think, and could only let my tears flow. But I did it. And I'm content.

This oneshot was inspired from my times in the hospital, during my chemotherapy sessions. This is Rei and I, and me expressing how it was like in those days. So it might not be accurate to their characters, and I'm sorry. But please, give this a chance. That's all I'm asking.

It was raining the day before Yukimura's surgery.

Sanada opened the door just in time for a few kids to dart outside to the corridors, laughing and waving to Yukimura.

"Bye, onii-chan! See you tomorrow!"

"Good luck! We know you can do it!"

Yukimura was smiling, like he always was, as he waved goodbye to the flock of small children that always liked to visit him, for some reason. Yukimura never minded them, they were all a part of the ward he was in, most of them still sick, with some having an illness as serious as his own. It could get terribly lonely, and if those kids got a few smiles from visiting him, even if it meant breaking some hospital rules, then Yukimura wouldn't stop them.

"Yukimura." Sanada greeted with a short nod, closing the door behind him.

"Sanada." Yukimura gestured to the bedside chair before folding his hands in his lap. "How are you? You look terrible." Yukimura asked, glancing at Sanada, whose face he could now observe more closely. His face was pinched with exhaustion, the faint creases on his brow seemingly deeper and more pronounced.

"Last minute practice," Sanada frowned, as if remembering something deeply unpleasant. It was a familiar expression, and Yukimura had to smother the chuckle it inspired, "even if the tournament is tomorrow. Don't worry, I will rest tonight."

"That's not enough time." Yukimura said, his own frown starting to form on his features. "You should be at your house, resting already."

"I'll be fine. I should be the one asking you that." Sanada took the offered invitation, sinking down on the chair and placing his school and tennis bags on the ground beside the chair. His cap and shoulders were damp, while the rain continuously poured outside, rhythmic plip-plops hitting against stone and concrete. "How are you feeling?"

"The same as always." They looked at each other in a way that spanned numerous conversations in just a few seconds, reading all the truths and the lies hidden in the words they've spoken. "You didn't have to come." Yukimura gestured to the windows, where clear-colored beads condensed and ran down the glass in continuing rivulets. "It's a storm outside."

"I had to." There was something in the simple, matter-of-fact way that Sanada said it that made Yukimura pause and look away, lip catching between his teeth. His hands, thin and pale, clutched at the sheets. He didn't like showing weakness, never had, and yet today managed to catch him off-guard.

His surgery was tomorrow, and he only found out about it today. The Kantou Tournament was tomorrow.

And Sanada noticed. Yukimura merely said it in passing this morning, but there must be something in his voice, in the way he said it, for Sanada to visit despite the heavy rain. For all that Sanada managed to be ignorant of, even the most basic of nuances, today he was frighteningly receptive. He was silent, watchful, letting Yukimura pull himself together.

"Well, the sooner the better, I suppose." Yukimura said, once he managed to find his voice. "If the surgery succeeds, I'll be able to train just in time for Nationals."

"Yukimura."

"So keep your promise. Win the Kantou Tournament." Yukimura was continuing before he even thought of it, ignoring the way Sanada said his name. His lips were moving faster, words tumbling out of his mouth as his mind struggled to keep up with it.

"Yukimura."

"When I wake up I want to see the gold medal on my bedside table. We've trained hard for this. Even in my absence Rikkaidai can still win and claim the championship. Sanada, you have to make sure that–"

"Yukimura!"

Yukimura stopped and glanced at Sanada, whose firm voice was reinforced by his stern mouth and fierce gaze. His mouth hung open in complete shock, startled into silence. Then his jaw snapped shut, his gaze sharpening as he gave Sanada a glare. The audacity of him to interrupt–!

"I have no intention of breaking my vow to you." Sanada said, serious and intent, leaning forward in his seat as they sat eye-to-eye with each other. "We will win. And I will bring the medal, and slip it into your hands myself." His hand reached forward, and grasped Yukimura's own, fingers curling around Yukimura's palm and cupping it as if the medal was already there. Sanada paused, and suddenly his voice lost its hardened edge, his eyes mellowing that, for him, would be considered extremely gentle.

"You're trembling."

And he was. Yukimura suddenly realized it now, the way his fingers shook, cradled against Sanada's palm. He closed it immediately, pressing the other against it quickly to make it stop. "… I can't stop it." He whispered.

It started after the call. And it hurt to admit it.

Sanada looked at the white, trembling hands on top of his own steady one, then up Yukimura's face, brown eyes curiously soft and warm. "Then don't." Sanada's other hand was raised, and pressed Yukimura's hands in between his own.

"Let nature run its course." He said quietly.

Of course Sanada would say it that way, and mean another. Despite himself, Yukimura smiled, and waited until hands, his arms, his body stopped shaking. Until his heart stopped beating so fast and so loud he could heard it pulsing through his ears. Until the tears that threatened to spill on his cheeks receded from his eyes, and he could see clearly once more.

The silence between them was full of thought.

His hand, now as steady as oak, slipped from Sanada's grip to touch his cheek, thumb caressing the dark circle under his eye. "Sleep." He said quietly. "I'll still be here when you wake."

There were also secrets that Sanada kept from him. Things about Sanada that Yukimura knew, better than Sanada did himself. Yukimura wasn't blind or a fool.

They stared at each other for one long moment, probing, assessing, searching. Then Sanada gave a sigh, acquiescent, as if he was doing a great sacrifice. Nevertheless, he moved his chair forward and pressed his cheek on the back of his hand, the tension slowly draining from his shoulders. He closed his eyes, and stilled.

Yukimura's fingers threaded through the raven black hair, massaging the scalp with an ease that could only come from years of practice and action.

And his fingers wrapped around Sanada's, holding tight, his arm wrapping around broad shoulders and tucking him close.

They clung to each other, as the day shifted into night, and even then, they didn't let go.

I'm sorry. I won't be able to write 100 complete stories. I can promise all of you this, though, that there's going to be one last story. 60 stories, 60 glimpses, 60 ways on seeing how people love, what it feels to love and be loved, and the promise that, no matter what, no matter when, if two people were meant to be, then they will always find a way to be.

It's been fun. And I am happy. Now, I'm going to live out my life to the fullest, with all that I have. I'm going to tell the people that I care about how I feel. So, to those who have waited, who have cheered me on and who have seen me grow, I say this.

I love you. I love you so much, all of you. And I hope that you live your life the way you want it to, the way to make yourself happy and content. Life is too short to waste, and you never know when you'll breathe your last. It's cliche, but cliches are cliches for a reason.

Don't waste your opportunities. Take the risks you feel are worth it. And love whom your heart decides to love, whether it may be a person or thing.

One last story. Then, I rest.

Soon.

Mitsukai20