Okay, honestly, I started writing fanficlike two hours after I finished reading this manga. I have a problem. Please send help.

Disclaimer: I own nothing someone else does. If I did, I would know what to call Hiyono in fics. She needs a name, man. Seriously.

esperance

It took too long for Ayumu to notice her standing in the doorway. By the time he finally did, she was fuming silently, tapping her toes of her not-sensible heels against the tile irritably. He needed to pay better attention to her.

"What are you doing here?"

"Would you rather I leave?" When Ayumu didn't answer, she grit her teeth. "You're cruel, Narumi-san."

"I didn't say anything," he pointed out. He shifted to one side of the bed to make space. "Sit."

Kiyotaka stood before she could move and offered his chair. "Here. I was leaving, anyway. I'll see you tomorrow, Ayumu."

"Whatever."

The door swung shut as Kiyotaka left, and his footsteps faded away. Hiyono had yet to move, and Ayumu raised an eyebrow at her. "Sit," he said again.

Hiyono crossed the room, ignoring the chair, and sat on the bed next to him, curving her body so she could wrap an arm around Ayumu's shoulders. She pulled her legs up onto the bed and bent her head over his so her hair brushed his face. Ayumu batted it away.

"I was in the area," Hiyono told him.

"Meaning where, exactly?"

"…Meaning Brazil." She laughed, poking Ayumu's nose playfully. "Don't pretend you don't appreciate it, Narumi-san."

"Don't call me that."

"What?"

"Narumi-san. Don't call me that."

Hiyono shifted so she could stare down more fully into Ayumu's face. He was propped up against the pillows, a book propped in his lap. His bed was white, his hospital gown was white, his face was white. His eyes and hair stood out starkly. Hiyono ran her fingers through that hair.

"Then what should I call you?"

"Ayumu," he said, closing his eyes. "My name is Ayumu."

"But I like Narumi-san," she told him. "No one else calls you Narumi-san like I do, do they?" Ayumu was silent, and Hiyono's pulse fluttered. Her hands stilled. "Narumi-san?"

His eyes opened sleepily. "Sorry. Aniki talks too much. He woke me up early and hasn't let me go back to sleep. Don't stop," he added, nudging her arm, and she resumed running her fingers through his hair. He closed his eyes again. "No one does anything like you."

"You're different today, Narumi-san," she said. "Did you miss me so much?"

"Not really."

"Narumi-saaan…"

"I have something for you." Ayumu set his book on the stand by his bed and pushed back his covers. Hiyono smiled when she saw the dark pants he was wearing under the hospital gown, but it dropped when she saw the IV in his right arm when he leaned over to rummage in the jacket lying draped over the chair beside him.

"I love presents," she said, holding out her hand. Ayumu turned back to her, eyebrows raised just enough so she knew he was expecting that, and dropped something into her palm.

She knew before she looked that it was the earring they had passed back and forth so many times over the years. The metal was surprisingly warm in her palm.

"I don't need it," Ayumu said. "So you keep it."

Hiyono examined the earring for a moment, then handed it back to Ayumu.

"Put it on me, Narumi-san. Do it right."

He gave her a look she couldn't read, then took her left hand in his. She started, and he swiped a thumb across her knuckles, almost absently. Then he tugged her ring finger toward him.

The ring fit awkwardly. It was too small, and Ayumu had to unclasp it to put it on Hiyono's finger, and even so, it bit into her skin. She couldn't wear it, not like this.

But right then, she didn't care.

"You're being weird, Narumi-san," she whispered. Her throat was tight as she said the words. He would never be so romantic, and especially not with her, not unless—

Not unless something was wrong. Very, very wrong.

"Not as weird as you," he said easily.

She had known this day would come. Had known it for years. She had walked away from him, knowing she may never see him again, on more than one occasion. And yet… a part of her – the silly, naïve, Yuizaki Hiyono part of her – had believed that, somehow, Ayumu – Narumi-san – would be okay. He couldn't die. Not like this.

He took one look at her stricken expression – before she could school it – and sighed, leaning back into his pillows.

"Can you grant me a wish this time?" he asked.

Wordlessly, she nodded.

"Hold my hand."

She slipped her hand into Ayumu's. His palm was warm against hers – just like the ring had been – and she smiled sadly. He didn't notice, staring down thoughtfully at their entwined fingers.

"You could ask me for something more, Narumi-san," she said teasingly, and he glanced up at her.

"Are you trying to seduce me?"

"Is it working?"

Ayumu considered for a moment, then said "No."

And then he kissed her anyway.

It was their first, and it would probably be their last, but that was okay. At least they had made it to this point, after so long.

Hiyono slid her hands into Ayumu's hair, feeling the weight of the ring on her finger, the ache in her heart, and the promise to always remember this man, this perfect, wonderful man that she loved, in her mind, always.

"Your ring's getting caught in my hair," he pulled away to say. When she moved to take it off, he stopped her. "Leave it. It's okay."

"Don't take it off."

So she wouldn't.

--

Three years later, when Ayumu was gone and Hiyono had changed her name again and gone to London, a couple of teenagers approached her outside a cafe.

"I really like your necklace," one said, British accent curving along the words, and sunlight glinting off her bright hair. "Where did you get it?"

Hiyono smiled, touching the earring tied at her neck with a strip of red ribbon. And thought of the boy who had given it to her. He would love this.

"That's a trade secret."

Somewhere up in heaven, she bet Narumi-san was amused. Or shaking his head with exasperation.

Either way, he'd be paying attention.

That was good enough.