Merry-Go-Round

Yoite hummed contently as he knitted the beginnings of a scarf. Miharu had just left ten minutes ago. Kumohira-san had followed him out the door a little later to run to the store for bean paste. Hanabusa-san could be a very scary woman when she wanted to be, as she had demonstrated when Kumohira-san put up a fight. He supposed only that woman could honestly threaten someone with a frying pan and mean it, though remembering what he had heard of Saraba, that woman might have a chance. Yoite's lips twitched into a fraction of a smile as he stilled his hands and let memories wash over him.

He knew without having to concentrate that most of them had to do with Miharu. Yoite felt the safest with Miharu, though Yukimi was always just behind. 'Miharu…' he mouthed, his eyebrows drawing in a slight blend of sadness and confusion. Something was wrong with Miharu, he knew, and he was trying to hide whatever it was. It saddened Yoite that Miharu felt the need to lie and skirt around the subject. 'We trust each other, don't we, Miharu?' he asked himself, shifting restlessly. It had been on his mind for the past week… when Miharu had shuffled in without a greeting smile and simply sat by Yoite's chair for hours, fiddling with the mint green blanket settled across his lap.

Yoite, feeling the heavy atmosphere even with his deadened senses, felt it best not to say anything and continued to read the book on gardening Hanabusa-san had given to him, glancing insecurely at the silent boy every few minutes. It was an interesting subject, and Yoite wistfully wondered how it felt to have the time to let such beautiful creations form beneath one's hands. He supposed the closest he'd gotten to something like that was with his relationship with Miharu. They had grown on each other more than Yoite would willingly admit, but it was… pleasurable to have such a close friendship. He treasured it, and Miharu, more than anything else.

So when Miharu finally stood from his seat on the ground to return the untouched tray of snacks Hanabusa-san had put together for him, it wasn't much of a surprise when he finally found the words he was willing to shatter the semi-comfortable silence with.

"Miharu… if there's anything you want to say, you know you can tell me."

Miharu nodded, looking at him silently for a few minutes. A minute after he disappeared into the kitchen, Yoite felt something shift within him. 'The way he looked at me just now… that longing… does he feel the same way about our friendship, then? Or is it something else? Something… darker?' Yoite guessed he'd never know if he didn't push the issue. He didn't want to put Miharu into an uncomfortable situation, though; he'd already put his precious friend through so much. Therefore, he let it be. 'If it's something important,' he insisted to himself, 'Really important… he'll tell me sooner or later. I trust Miharu.' Why did he have to try so hard to convince himself? It should have been easy… Yoite felt his chest tighten a little at the thought. A small spasm jolted his left arm and he bit his cheek, trying to think back to the last time he had taken a much-cherished pain pill.

As if to sate his concern, Miharu appeared in front of him with a white pill, a small glass of water and a painfully reassuring smile. Miharu had sat with him for a few more hours, handling a bit of soft yarn as Yoite began knitting the scarf he was currently working on, somehow unable to read more than a few more words from the gardening book. Yoite set aside the materials and rested against the back of the chair, his lips forming a small frown. Miharu never had told him what had happened that day to drive him into such a state, but he acted cheerier. Yes, acted.

Yoite felt a little insulted that Miharu thought he was fooling him; they were of the same mold. He entertained the thought that he perhaps knew Miharu better than he knew himself. Yoite would be an idiot not to notice. 'Tomorrow,' he nodded, decided. 'Tomorrow, I'll ask him what's wrong. He should tell me then… doesn't really beat around the bush, that one.' And just like that, his frown melted into a fond smile. The Kira-user found it difficult to stay angry at the cute younger boy for more than a few minutes.

Just as he moved to grab his knitting supplies, his bad thoughts settled, the door slammed open and he could hear Kumohira-san's panicked voice through the thin walls. There was a gasp; Hanabusa-san. Yoite half-rose from his chair, feeling a chord of worry strike within him. His concern sharpened in intensity when Miharu's teacher stormed through the door carrying a very familiar body in his arms. With a startled gasp, Yoite threw himself out of the chair and across the room, meeting Kumohira halfway. "Miharu!" Yoite cried, panic rattling his nerves and shaking his thin body. "Miharu! What happened? Tell me!" he demanded, taking one of Miharu's hands into his own. They were so cold… but his face, his slender face was flushed with fever?

Kumohira quickly, yet carefully set his precious Miharu onto the couch and took the wet coat off Miharu's unresisting body before firmly tucking in the throw blanket. "What happened?" Yoite asked again, quietly, but in a tone that expected answers. "He was delirious with fever by the time I found him… he was standing at the end of the street, looking lost. He… said some pretty crazy things before he collapsed. I rushed him back here as soon as I could, but even still, his fever looks pretty bad." Yoite nodded, swallowing hard against the sudden lump in his throat. 'Why?' he inevitably asked himself.

'Why didn't I notice he was ill? He's always here to keep me company for a few hours each day… it's kind of him, so I should have seen something like this! Have I become this bad at reading him…?'

The teen fell back into his chair, his hands still grasping Miharu's tightly. Kumohira had stepped out of the room to bring more blankets. Hanabusa-san came in a minute after his silent contemplation with a bowl of water and a few hand towels.

The minute a wet hand towel had touched Miharu's forehead, his eyes fluttered open, expressionless to stare at the ceiling. In that moment, he looked so much, was so still, like death, that Yoite whimpered and frantically laid his head on the boy's chest to listen for his heartbeat, mindful of their still joined hands between them. It was there, of course, lightly beating on. Yoite slowly withdrew to look into Miharu's eyes again.

Hanabusa-san tapped him on the shoulder, and upon a slight nod, gestured toward the wet cloth still resting on Miharu's forehead. "I'm going to search for medicine. If we don't lower this fever… well…" She looked away, unable to speak the words. Goosebumps arose on Yoite's arms and he nodded, moving to soak the cloth again. Hanabusa-san left the room and Miharu's lips parted. "Ne…" he whimpered, pressing his fingers more firmly into Yoite's hands. "Ne… Yoite." Heeding the call, Yoite sat up on his knees and closer to hear Miharu's murmured words. "You should… be resting." Yoite felt a hysterical chuckle burst from his mouth and stared down at the blanket. "You look like you need it more than I." Miharu blinked up at Yoite, seemingly confused.

"No… it doesn't matter to me. I can die here if you'll be okay."

Yoite's eyes widened at the innocent statement, feeling an emotion quite like sadness. "Baka," he chided, shoulders tensing. "Is this what you were so worried about? It's my own decision. I don't want my existence erased if it means forgetting everyone… forgetting you." Miharu shook his head and the wet cloth slid over his right eye. He stared empathically with feverish eyes into Yoite's blue orbits. "Ne, ne… Yoite. That's not it." Miharu looked disappointed. Yoite moved the cloth under Miharu's fringe and felt bad for wanting to take advantage of the situation. But, still… he wanted to know.

"Then what is it?" he gently asked, unsettled. Miharu's gaze was suddenly torn.

[He had gone to great lengths to hide this secret… did he really want to spoil it so soon? It wanted to come out anyway. Maybe it would hurt less if Yoite knew…]

"Ne… Yoite…" Miharu felt distant to Yoite. The older boy leaned in once more to hear every word clearly. [Miharu painstakingly lifted their joined hands to his chest, held them there. Spikes of pain kept them in place.]

"Yoite… I… I don't want to see you die…" Yoite grimaced slightly, sensing that wasn't all. "And… I wish I had… used Fairy-san… to save you." The pain-filled green eyes slowly drifted closed into a restless sleep as Yoite silently drew back to sit on his heels, contemplating the small form before him.

The wind howled and rattled the windows. Time hadn't stopped for them. The world was still in motion. A mint green woolen blanket found its way onto the two heavier blankets, but it was tucked in with more care. A ghost of a kiss was placed over Miharu's warming hand. The cloth was wrung and re-watered.

Miharu's heart still beat. Yoite felt that as long as that were still true, as long as Miharu was alive and with him, Yoite was also alive. A shared existence was formed in an uncaring world, and a shared existence it would remain… in that moment, everything else was of little consequence.

Yoite had a lot of thinking to do.

A/N: Wow, that kinda went off track. *shrugs* Well, it wasn't bad... I don't think... I just finished this series yesterday, so I'm still a little new at drawing their characters up. Feedback would be appreciated.