"You know," Kaname said from his hospital bed, as he stared out the window at a flock of birds flying past. "I'm glad you're here, Bear."

The stuffed toy sat next to him on a chair, a bowl of water and a towel on his lap to cool down his master's forehead. He was silent, as usual, but Kaname knew he was listening.

"I was always, always alone," the blonde said, looking down at his hands. "And I saw the other kids, who got visitors everyday. And they were noisy, but they were happy. And I just thought—I just thought, what about me?"

He looked at Bear. "But then I realized that I don't need them, Bear. Because I have you. And even if you can't talk to me, I know you listen. I know you do." He smiled. "And that will be enough for me."

He stayed silent for a few more minutes, contemplating.

"Bear," he said. "If I die…"

Mister Bear looked up at his master, and silenced him by placing a flower in his hand.

Kaname laughed. "What would I do without you?" he said, patting the stuffed toy on the head gently.

"But…" he said. "If I do leave, someday. Sooner or later I will, Bear, don't look at me like that."

How could a toy he had made with his own sweat and tears look at him with such piercing eyes?

"Bear…"

He was scared. He was scared to die. He didn't want to stop breathing, to feel his body grow weaker—weaker than it already was. He didn't want to move on.

He wanted to stay.

"Bear…"

The poor stuffed toy couldn't understand why his friend was crying. But he knew he was upset, and so he laid his small paw on Kaname's hand and tried to convey to him what he felt. That no matter what, Kaname would be his best friend. No one would replace him. It'll be okay.

Kaname wiped his tears and smiled at him. "Thank you, pal. Thank you for everything."

And he closed his eyes and wasn't so afraid anymore.

He had a friend waiting for him wherever he was headed.