Midorima rubbed his face hastily, sighing for the hundreth time this very night and the ten-thousandth time this week. The hard plastic bench underneath him was starting to make his back scream in discomfort. Chemicals and bleach made their way into the man's nose, attacking his sense of smell.

As he watched the nurses flutter in and out of different rooms he wanted to close his eyes and pretend that they aren't there at all. But as soon as he opened his eyes, he could still see the blue edges of their uniforms moving according to their movements. He wanted to scream on the top of his lungs to get rid of the lump of pressure that was stuck in his chest but he could only sigh again and gulp down the now cold coffee an assistant had handed to him earlier.

He stared blankly ahead, not focusing on anything. Looking down he counted the small wrinkles on his hands, he got to twenty-one before he stopped himself. Groaning he ruffled his already messy green hair, making it more tousled then it was before. He hadn't bothered with his appearence these days.

At the back of his head, he counted the times they have been in the hospital this month.

One, two, three, four, five, six, seven…..

Tick, tock. Tick, tock. The white clock moved mecanically on the also white wall. Even though it was New Years, there wan't any decorations strung up on the walls or doors.

"He would want to pile garlands on these walls if he owned the hospital," the man muttered under his breath, eyeing the naked walls. Imagining Takao's bright face as he ran aorund the hallways, dragging his hand along with the decorations.

After that remark, he noticed that the doctor was standing not far from where he was sitting. He tugged his lips in a half-hearted smile, letting her know that he was aware of her presence. Midorima studied her face, it was beautiful for the world's standards, arched cheeckbones, full rosy lips, smooth skin, vibrant red hair and green eyes that held many emotions. But he just didn't find it as attractive as his own lover's face, his soft black hair and the sharp eyes that seem to pierce his soul.

The green-head could see pity in her eyes, bracing himself, he prepared for the worst news he knew he would hear in his life. Resisting the urge to cry, he forced the tears to go back to where they came from.

The doctor's heels clacked on the clean floor, she bit her lips, thinking how to break the news to her patient's husband. Gesturing her hands to the chair beside the man, silently asking if she could sit down. She saw the green-head nod and nodding in thanks she sat down in a flourish.

Her green eyes looked into his similar but different in shade green ones, and at once she knew that she didn't need to explain anything, he already knew what was the final diagnosis he would ever hear. Once realizing that she scrambled to find the words to start a conversation. The first question she blurted out wasn't exactly what she had in mind. And after hearing the answer, her heart squeezed in a painful way.

"How long have you been married to him?" she said.

A brief silence and a sigh.

"Not long enough."