A wave of tension suddenly swept over the room, as if time itself had frozen.
Nagisa gently unwrapped his arms from Nyoko and stood up slowly, then asked.
"What is it? Is something wrong?"
The doctor nodded without speaking and gestured toward the door, signaling that he wanted to speak in private.
Nagisa cast one last glance at Nyoko, as if to say with his eyes, "Don't worry. I'll be back."
Then he followed the doctor quietly, walking behind him through the long, silent hospital corridors.
They reached a brown door bearing the doctor's name. The doctor grabbed the handle, turned it, pushed the door open, and stepped inside. Nagisa followed immediately and gently closed the door behind him.
The doctor was already seated on his leather chair behind a cluttered wooden desk, and behind him stood a large bookshelf filled with files and medical books.
He motioned for Nagisa to sit, and Nagisa took the seat opposite him, his hands starting to sweat from the tension, and the tips of his feet growing cold.
He could read the doctor's expression clearly… Something bad was about to be said.
The doctor took a deep breath, looked straight into Nagisa's eyes, and said in a serious tone.
"I want you to know before anything else… this wasn't in our hands. It's a medical condition—quite a rare one."
The blood froze in Nagisa's veins. It felt like the air had vanished from the room. He swallowed a heavy lump forming in his throat and stammered, his voice trembling with fear.
"What… what are you saying, Doctor? Is Haruki okay? Is he… healthy?"
The doctor let out a long sigh, as if preparing himself for the weight of what he was about to say.
"Haruki is perfectly healthy… this isn't about him."
That sentence hit Nagisa like lightning. His heart trembled in his chest, and a shiver ran from the top of his head to the soles of his feet, paralyzing him with fear.
His shoulders slumped, and his face turned blank—like a stone statue, unable to react.
Then his lips moved slowly, and he asked in a whisper, as if afraid to hear the answer.
"Nyoko…?"
The doctor closed his eyes and nodded slowly, but the meaning behind the gesture was sharp as a blade.
Nagisa's lack of response prompted the doctor to continue speaking—his voice now directed at a man whose heart was breaking in silence.
"Nyoko is suffering from a rare type of multiple sclerosis… it's uncommon, and that's what concerns me."
Nagisa felt like his body was about to collapse—but he resisted. Not now. Not in front of the doctor.
He took a short breath and turned to him, trying to hold himself together. His voice came out choppy, as if something inside was blocking it.
"A-And... what is... this disease?"
His voice was unsteady, trembling—barely escaping his lips.
The doctor noticed his state and understood, then began to explain calmly.
"It's a very rare autoimmune neurological disease, similar to multiple sclerosis—but more dangerous and long-lasting.
It attacks the optic nerve, causing sudden vision loss.
It also affects the spinal cord, which can lead to paralysis or weakness, and in some cases, even reaches the brain…"
Nagisa's face fell. It was as if his world—made of glass—had begun to shatter beneath him.
His entire body went numb, more like a corpse than a living man. Even his lips didn't move.
The doctor felt the weight of the silence, but he had to continue—with what was even worse.
"The monthly treatment cost can range from ¥70,000 to ¥145,000… if you have insurance."
Nagisa felt a crushing weight in his chest that wouldn't lift. He nodded slowly, confirming that he had insurance, though his mind had already stopped functioning.
He stood up from the chair unsteadily and left the office in silence.
He walked through the hallway; nurses passed him and asked where he was going—but he didn't hear a thing.
Everything had turned into a blur.
He entered the restroom and headed straight for a stall with a blue door. He closed it and leaned against it.
His legs gave out, and he slid down onto the cold floor.
Sitting there, he hugged his knees to his chest and buried his head between them.
"Why her?
Why not me?
Why does the world keep taking away those I love—what makes me happy?
I can't... I can't live without her…
Please… don't take her from me…"
Those words repeated in his mind over and over, until he felt the burn of tears welling in his eyes.
He could no longer hold them back.
He began to cry… that strong facade he always wore shattered in silence.
He cried and cried, until his cheeks turned red and long, unerasable trails of tears ran down his face.
His body trembled on the floor, like the last leaf on a tree branch in autumn…
Fragile, hanging by a thin thread—needing only the slightest breeze to fall.
___
Thank you for reading! If this moment touched you even a little , please consider adding it to your library.💐