Furuichi hated America. Especially the giant fucking sandbox they were currently in. Though the heat was unbearable during the day, night was even worse. The temperature drop was horrible when his body adjusted to the heat all day.

Everyone excluding Furuichi was around the fire, that the driver managed to start. Hilda, Beel and Oga were going to sleep on top of the truck. Hilda couldn't get enough of Beel since her absence, and Oga didn't want to sleep in the dirty truck. The driver was camping out by the fire, for the night. Which left the inside of the truck all for Furuichi. But being inside still didn't block the cold.

He was shivering inside the car, grumbling about stupid bi polar American weather when their driver opened the door. He took one look at him and in a worrying tone began saying something that Furuichi could not understand. Working around the language barrier, the driver grabbed a brown glass bottle from the floor. Twisting the cap off, he offered the bottle to Furuichi, who took it with a confused expression.

It smelled awful, but the driver began gesturing him to drink it, and then rubbed his arms. He did this three times until it finally clicked to Furuichi that the drink would warm him up.

Nodding to show he understood, he waited till the driver left to take the first sip. And he was glad that he hesitated, because his first drink ended back up on the dashboard. The liquid was disgusting! Glancing outside, he saw the driver drink half of his in one go. And he had a smile on his face the entire time.

He shivered again in the cold. He'd rather taste a horrible drink for a bit, than feel the cold all night long. Plugging his nose, he tossed the drink up and drank the disgusting liquid in large gulps. The moment the last drop entered his mouth, he dropped the bottle to the floor.

His body shook with chills, this time from the foreign taste that still resided in his mouth. But he didn't complain, because sure enough a warmth was settling in his stomach. It was slowly spreading to the rest of his body, and it gave a nice feeling that had a smile spreading on his face. He reached for another one of the warming drinks.

With Hilda and Beel already settling for bed, Oga returned to the truck to grab his jacket. Opening the door, he froze when he realized something was off. After standing there for a full minute, finally it hit him that Furuichi was not in the truck. Dropping the item he came for, he stepped onto the road and tried to find the white haired idiot. He squinted his eyes and tried to get them adjusted to the darkness. He looked towards the fire, and back onto the road.

But he didn't see Furuichi. His heart began to beat faster at the thought that Furuichi was taken again. He was about to sprint down the road, when a voice called out to him. Turning towards the sand, he saw a faint shirtless figure waving at him.

"Oga! Oga come here!"

Furuichi sounded unusually happy for someone standing in the cold desert, so Oga had his guard up in case he was pulling a trick on him. When he got his first look at Furuichi he immediately noticed the bottle in his hand and the redness on his face.

He reminded him of Kunieda that time Saotome's lady friend gave her alcohol. Already sure that Furuichi was drunk, he wanted to find out if Furuichi knew what he was drinking. "What is that?"

Furuichi looked behind him, above him, and under before he even glanced at the bottle in his hand. With a wide smirk he told Oga. "I got some juice from the fat American. It's making me feel really warm!"

"Give me that." Sighing at the idiot, he stepped forward and went to grab the alcohol. Furuichi however grabbed the reaching hand and clumsily placed it over the scar that was above his heart. Oga involuntarily flinched when he felt the damaged skin, and tried to wretch his hand away. But Furuichi held his grip and pressed the cold hand even closer to him. Shivering at the touch Furuichi stared at him and whispered loudly. "Do you feel it?"

The only thing Oga felt was the irregular heartbeat that had beating since Furuichi's revival. Before he could question Furuichi's sanity, Furuichi leaned towards him, to where their foreheads bumped in contact. A warm whisper hit his ear, but what Furuichi said next made it feel like someone doused him with a bucket of ice.

"Do you feel the hand?"

Oga ripped his hand away from the chest hard enough, to cause Furuichi to fall on his ass. Confusion was expressed on his face, as if he couldn't remember how he had just went from standing to sitting. But the confused look was soon replaced with fear. Placing his hand over his own heart he looked up at Oga and asked in a pleading tone. "You don't feel it?" He glanced down at the scar and whispered. "I feel it all the time."

Silence lengthened between the two and was only interrupted when a chuckle interrupted from Furuichi. Oga was starting to worry and before Furuichi could take another drink he grabbed the brown bottle. Bringing the bottle close to his face, he took a sniff of the liquid. Some old white American with a white wig was on the front of it, and he could only guess it was America's alcohol.

He threw the glass bottle on the floor and returned his gaze to Furuichi who was still chuckling to himself. Sighing in annoyance, he leaned forward and picked his friend up. Unfortunately Furuichi decided to stop using his legs and slumped all his weight onto Oga.

Face falling into his chest, Oga felt Furuichi's laughter against his chest. And for some reason that made his stomach ache with dread.

His fears were confirmed when Furuichi began speaking into his chest. "Wanna know something funny." Pushing himself away, he stood wobbly on his own two feet and looked at Oga in the eye. Chuckling lightly he confessed. "I would follow you anywhere and would never ask why. I will always want to help you." Spreading his arms he took a sloppy turn and gestured to their foreign surroundings. "That's why I'm here."

His hand returned to the scar, and the chuckling died. His tone darkened and when he stared back at Oga, there was a look of disbelief on his face as he spoke. "But you wanna know something funny? You wouldn't help me. when my life depended on it. You went fishing. FISHING!"

Oga watched as his best friend's face fell and swallowed nervously before saying something he seemed to be dreading. "You're my best friend and I can't trust you. That's so fucked up." Another pause as Furuichi took a moment to release his thoughts. Licking his lips, he asked with uncertainty. "We're still friends, right?"

Oga could only nod as his lips sealed themselves shut. He wanted to grab Furuichi and shake him for even thinking they weren't friends. He fucked up. He knew he fucked up, and he wanted to apologize, he wanted to make sure Furuichi knew that he felt like a total fucking jerk.

His silence had done more damage to his best friend, and it felt like an endless circle of him fucking up and Furuichi taking the hit. As if things couldn't get any worse, Furuichi continued and what he said made fear grip Oga's heart.

"That's good. I really wanna help you finding this So-Salmon- no Solomon company. I actually want to be useful. I don't mind getting kidnapped either. I can show you and Hilda where the hideout is.

"No!" He spat out, just the idea had his stomach churning with disgust. Furuichi wasn't a fucking object they could throw at the enemy, just to find their location. He thought his answer and tone, ended the conversation but Furuichi waved his hands carelessly and in a joking fashion he said. "What's the worst that can happen? I die? That's already happened!"

Oga felt sick but he kept his face expressionless and demanded from Furuichi. "Just stand by my side. That's enough."

"I've been doing that this entire time." Furuichi replied in an exasperated tone. He looked as if he was ready to argue but Oga cut him off. "I know, that's why I'm still standing."

The answer silenced Furuichi and had him staring at Oga. Before the alcohol could make Furuichi say any more, he pushed Furuichi towards the truck. "Come on, we're going to sleep Furuichi."

Sitting up, leaning against the door, he had Furuichi laid out, his head in his lap. The alcohol made him knock out the moment Oga pushed him into the truck. His jacket was over Furuichi's torso, a small defense against the cold.

Eyes looking upwards to the night sky, his hand stayed on his best friend's heart to hear its reassuring beat. Sighing, he mentally noted to himself that he needed to stop being a shitty friend.

Thank you for reading this story! I hope you enjoyed it and please leave any thoughts or criticism in a review. I would really appreciate it!

All right, hope you have a good one!