WARNING: Character death. Boy x boy. (Please do not read if you can't stand either of these two things.)

Disclaimer: I do not own Junjou Romantica

Chapter 1: Andante

Butterflies had never looked so fragile before.

That was Usami Akihiko's first thought when he found one lying on his doorstep that grey morning, wings furled up like a forgotten love letter. He picked it up with one hand and felt the tiny thing tremble in his palm, fluttering out its last breaths feebly. He blinked slowly, watching how the wings beat the air in coded Morse: red, black, red, black, shivering and blinking like a motel room sign. It felt like a final, melancholic message somehow but he didn't want to understand it. Life was devastating enough already.

He laid it gently on the soil of a potted plant by the door. Its bright red wings stood out starkly against the brown earth. A memory flashed in his mind. A red scarf fluttering in the wind. Dark brown hair slipping through his fingers. A soft laugh.

Did everything feel like an omen today? Or was he just going crazy?

The air inside the apartment was cold. He hurriedly walked in and shut the door behind him. February was never a good season for the invalid, given how frigid it was, as though winter made a pact to strangle every last bit of warmth out of Japan with its cold fists. He climbed up the stairs two at a time, listening to his heartbeat in the quiet house and hearing the creaks of the steps beneath his weight.

It didn't use to be like this.

There was a time when he would chase his lover around the house, threatening to include him in the next erotic novel if he didn't comply to his wishes. There would be a tussle, a tickling session that promptly ended with the both of them tangled up in each other on the floor, breathless and laughing until their sides ached. He'd press his large hands against the other's chest and feel the relentless thudding of a healthy heart. "Is this beating fast because of me or the run?" Those warm eyes were crinkled up with joy and mischief.

"Act your age, you old man." A teasing poke of a red tongue from that mischievous mouth. How Usami wished to silence that mouth with a long, deep kiss.

"I can't help it if my boyfriend is such a kid. You rub off on me pretty well." And every word of that was true. For someone who didn't have such an excellent childhood, being with his lover felt like another chance, a fresh start to relive all the innocent joys he never experienced before: to laugh, to joke around and to finally realise he didn't always have to be the perfect adult and to finally learn to live a little.

He always felt so alive with Misaki.

"Usagi-san?"

He looked up, startled. His reverie faded away like cool mists on a hot day. Reality was staring him in the face now and he felt something deep inside him clench tightly. The voice that called out his name was softer than it used to be, weaker and tired, as though all the spark had drained out of it. His violet eyes softened and he stepped forward to reach for the shadowy figure framed in the doorway of their bedroom.

"Hey, what's wrong?" he whispered softly.

Misaki stared up at him silently, those wide green eyes looking too big for his sunken, pale face. "I think I'm losing my hair."

Usami paused for a moment and looked over Misaki's shoulder to their messy bedroom. Back in the old days, his bedroom looked like a warzone before Misaki came over to put it straight (and also chew his ear off for being a slob in the process). Now, he could clearly see into the joint bathroom where dark strands of hair were all over the bathroom floor, brown curls against pristine white tiles like an odd mosaic. Usami gazed at Misaki for a moment before gently running a hand through his hair. Sure enough, a fair amount of it came away in his hands until he was cradling a handful of brown fluff, softer than snow. Misaki looked away and Usami gently held him by his shoulders, forcing him to look at him.

"Misaki, we knew this was unavoidable. It's ok." Usami whispered, placing a soothing hand on his cheek..

The young man shook his head and said, "It's just…I can't believe it's getting worst. I thought the therapy…"

Usami simply took his hand and led him back into the bedroom, gently settling him down on the bed, watching as Misaki drew his knees to his chest. It took him a moment to realise that he was wearing one of Usami's old sweaters. The blue fabric complemented his creamy pale skin nicely and the more he stared at the constellations of random freckles dusting the nape of his neck, the more he wanted to kiss it. But the older man shook his head as if to clear such thought and smiled reassuringly at Misaki who had a deep frown on his face.

"Well, that was a lot of radiation you wre subjected to. You didn't expect to just walk out without any effects, right? The doctor said hair loss and some mild nausea was to be expected. We got through the nausea part pretty well, didn't we? I'm just glad you're still here." He rubbed his back soothingly.

Misaki tilted his head to the side and a single tear slipped from his eye, tracing its way down his cheeks.

"Yeah, but for how long?"

A shadow seemed to pass over the room for a second.

Usami wrapped an arm around him and drew the boy closer to his chest. Misaki rested his head directly over Usami's beating heart. Usami wondered if he could hear how loudly it was beating, how frantic the fear in him was. A moment passed with nothing but silence and his brief sniffles.

But suddenly, the boy shook his head and dragged a hand over his eyes, pulling away from the older man. Misaki rolled his eyes and mumbled, "Sorry. I'm just being dramatic. Losing my hair is the least of my problems now, I know…" He pulled himself away and huffed, blowing a stray strand away from his face. He looked apprehensively at Usami and whispered, "You'll probably think I'm vain if I tell you this."

"What?" Usami frowned. Misaki turned bright red and turned away, embarassed.

"I don't want to complain but…this might be a problem."

Trepidation increased in Usami's heart. "What problem?" Was it some new disease? Was Misaki going to throw up all over him again? Usami watched with dread as the brunett took a deep breath, a dead serious look in his eyes.

"Usagi-san, I'm…I'm going to be bald! Can you believe this?! Now you'll probably think I'm ugly and…and you won't love me anymore!" he wailed, covering his face.

The tension broke and finally, Usami broke down in chuckles which escalated into full-blown laughter. Wrapping his arms around Misaki's waist, he pulled him close and kissed his forehead, his nose, cheeks and lips in short erratic pecks as the other groaned and tried to squirm away.

"I'd love you even if you lost all your hair. Misaki, that is seriously the dumbest thing I've ever heard from you and believe me, you've said a lot of dumb things."

"But it's going to be so weird. I'll miss having hair on my head." Misaki said softly but even he found the absurd side of the situation and laughed as well, giggles wracking his skinny frame.

"I don't love you because of your hair. That's idiotic. I don't care if you're bald or if you have acne or if the medication made your legs drop off, multiply your weight and gave you a third eye. I'd still love you forever."

"Umm…let's hope those scenarios wouldn't happen." Misaki made a face at him and Usami felt the thrill in his heart again when he recognised some of Misaki's old fire returning to him.

Sometimes, it was like living with a changeling. There were dark days when they would barely speak to each other, Misaki prefering to close himself off from the world, staring relentlessly out of windows and writing such morbid wills. And then there were days when it seemed like Misaki forgot he was ever ill and laughed with Usagi, teased him and generally annoyed the heck out of him with his sarcastic wit and dry humour. Usami liked the other Misaki better. This was the boy he knew best.

The one he fell in love with.

He stood up and held out a hand to Misaki. "Want to take a walk outside?"

"You know I get tired easily."

"I'll carry you on my back. Come on, you need some fresh air and less time in front of the mirror, lamenting about your hair."

The smile breaking across his face was like the glow of a sunset. Usami just stared at him for a moment, feeling his heart overflow with love and letting those feelings wash over him, dragging the grief and fear back to the far future where they belonged. For now, he had this. He would always have this. And he was determined to hold on to it for as long as he was allowed to.

"Ok. Let's go."

Note: I decided to name all the chapters after musical terms. When I play a melancholy piece on the piano, this story always somehow comes to mind. I adore a grand tragic opera or a soft sad ballad. This story is somehow a mixture of both.

Andante means at a walking pace, moderate speed;

like walking to a destination you do not know yet,

like finding ways to make a walk both longer and slower, to slow time down

because you want to feel the wind on your face,

the warmth of a hand in yours,

because you want to enjoy the view/ because the person next to you is the view.